Page 97 of Back for Seconds

Without another thought, I took her face in my hands and slid my fingers into her hair and tilted her face into mine. She responded with a gasp, bringing her hands to my cheeks, then a small whimper—maybe even a cry—in the back of her throat.

I wanted to be tender, to comfort her, but I loved the taste of her mouth. Sweet like black cherries and Chantilly cream. I was sick of feeling far from her, of feeling like we’d gone from having our own secret language and world to being total strangers. I pulled her close, soaking in the heat of her soft body, her arms tangling around my neck.

Eventually, I broke away, keeping my forehead pressed to hers. June.

She shook her head and loose tendrils of hair tickled my nose. “I really thought that was it. That I’d lost you forever.”

“Are you kidding me?” I tightened my grip on her. “You never lost me. Not for a moment.”

She let out a little laugh, shaking her head. Everything about her was pretty and thoughtful and smart. I wanted to kiss her again and again. I wanted to call her Junie and feel her sink into my lap.

I tightened my hold on her hips, bringing my other hand to thumb her chin. “We’ll move at a glacial pace. I don’t care if I have to ask your dad for permission every time I take you out.”

“No, please.” She laughed again. “Do not talk to my dad. I want you to talk to me—like we always have. I want to do exactly what you said—be two friends who decide to put this friendship above other friendships. I want to keep trusting you.” She took my face in her hands. “Please, let me keep trusting you.”

“Forever.” I grabbed her hands and bought them to my chest. “You can trust me forever.”

***

Inside, I dragged June into the kitchen, setting the still-hot tray down on the wooden island. She slowly peeled away the tin foil cover, now dripping with condensation from the feast waiting for her. The eggplant balls were packed one after another in the dish. There was enough for dinner tonight, lunch tomorrow, dinner again. She turned those big eyes up on me. “You made those for me? Right now?”

I nodded. “It’s what I promised, isn’t it?” I grabbed two plates from the only cabinet in the kitchen that was deep enough to store a set of plates—this was something I remembered, even all these years later. One of many quirks of the little blue house on Venus Avenue.

She set out two places, but when I slid into my stool, June wrapped her arms around me and buried her face into my neck. I tightened my hold on her, kissing the soft fullness of her cleavage, feeling the tight nip of her waist.

“We don’t have to eat, you know.” Her voice was a whisper against my temple. “It can wait.”

I pulled back to look at her. “Can it?”

“I think so…if that’s ok?”

I let out an incredulous huff. “You know I don’t touch you because I feel like I have to, right? Loving you is not a duty, June.” I tried to drink in all her features, all the soft happiness unfolding across her face. “It’s not an obligation. It’s an absolute fucking pleasure. And holding you this close? This is me being selfish.”

Chapter 33 June

Broken bones heal funny. They settle, misaligned. Strange angles and stretches bring back deep aches and twinges of pain. Then, of course, there’s all the memories of how the bone broke in the first place. With those memories emerge new fears—new phobias.

I’d forgotten somewhere, along the way, that Joey had broken parts that had healed wonky. I’d taken some of his self-deprecating comments about his intelligence at face value—I’d taken his deeply kind nature for granted. A fluke, pure happenstance.

But Joey’s heart had been broken many times, over many years, by many people. Arguably, the biggest heartbreak of his life had been losing his best friend, his grandmother. It was an impossibly hard lesson to learn—that not even pure, uninterrupted devotion to someone could freeze time and keep them earthside, just a little longer. Not even when you still needed them.

My heart had been broken in different ways. Before Brian, there’d been stupid high school boys and mean middle school girls. Before all of that, since the dawn of my life, there had been my father.

It took two divorces for me to realize that. My mother’s and my own.

The double divorce was worth talking about, then. We all had a lot to learn.

Those heartbreaks hadn’t changed me all at once, at thirty years old. No, it had taken many years for that mountain to crumble. Then came the avalanche. Still, I was here. And I wanted to feel good. To feel beautiful and safe.

I wanted to feast.

I let Joey lead me to my bedroom—a room I’d never shared with anyone else before. I let him slowly undress me and tell me exactly how he wanted me. I let him devour me—with his hands, with his mouth, with his voice—until it was my turn.

I knew it wouldn’t always be like this. I knew that all too well.

Sex couldn’t always play out like a four-course meal where every morsel passing through my lips felt like a brush with heaven. I knew I wouldn’t always want to feel dwarfed by Joey’s powerful body, his pure and raw size being enough to make me delirious with pleasure, his firm grasp on my thighs leaving light prints behind.

But right now, I couldn’t think of anything better.