The Space in Between
Page 8

“Pretty Woman rules?”
I smirked at his sarcastic tone and took off my sunglasses. “I’m serious, Cooper. Listen, I’m messed up. I really am. And you’re…” I stopped, not wanting to offend him. He sipped at his coffee and kept his eyes on me. “You’re going through some stuff, too.”
“This is true.”
“But for the first time in a long time…last night...for a small bit of a moment, I didn’t feel like constantly dying.” I rubbed my eyes, and cussed under my breath, realizing there was eyeliner on my fingers, which meant it was smeared all across my face. Without hesitation, Coop took a napkin and wiped the hot mess that had attacked me and turned me into raccoon eyes. A rush of heat ran through my body from his touch, a feeling I would beat myself up for later on.
He sat the napkin down and held up his index finger on his left hand. “Andrea. Over here is Chaos. Which we both know pretty well. And over here…” The right hand index finger flew up. “Over here is Order. I’m gonna assume both of us are pretty damn far from Order, yet we’ve already hit rock bottom Chaos. So how about we just explore the space in between the two?”
The space in between. The place where we wouldn’t have to talk about the past or worry about the future. The place where we didn’t get personal or talk about our dreams and fears. The place where any level of affection and tenderness was simply a way to forget about past hurts. A type of drug that drowned out the rest of the world. I could do the space in between.
“We can have a code word so we don’t have to call or text each other asking for…”
“Sex?” He smiled as he raised an eyebrow. I could feel my cheeks redden as I nodded.
His eyes shifted towards the table next to us, where a woman was holding her drink. “Soda pop.”
“Soda pop?”
As he lowered his voice, his eyes narrowed and zoned in on me. “Soda pop has a way of always being wet and with the right amount of pressure…with the right amount of constant shaking, it will suddenly…”
“—Explode…” I softly sighed. He was being overtly sexual. He sat back in his chair and sipped at his coffee. Crap, now I knew my whole face was the color of a freaking tomato. Back to the topic at hand and not how I was suddenly in need of a Coca-Cola.
“And when one wants out?” I asked.
“One walks away. It’s that simple. No strings. No commitment. No sitting by the telephone waiting for a call. If person A finds Order in their life first, then person B must respect that and move on.” He leaned across the table closer to me and his sexy southern sounds made my insides twist. “We need another safe word. If it gets too serious.”
“Panda,” I said.
With one eyebrow raised, he questioned my word choice. “Panda?”
“It’s my favorite animal.” I leaned closer to him as he moved a piece of my hair from my face.
“That sounds personal.”
Crap. He is right. Before I could respond, his lips were traveling over mine and I let him explore my palate awhile before pulling back. Somehow overnight I had grown quite addicted to his kisses. Perhaps it was his kisses alone that dragged me back into the café. He picked up a toothpick from the table as he stood up and placed it between his lips.
“Panda works for me.” He winked at me and walked out of the café leaving me sitting there, biting my bottom lip. I wanted to chase after him, push him up against a wall, and slide my tongue against his neck. I wanted to moan his name softly as his hands traveled to my butt and lightly squeezed it. I wanted him to lift me up. I wanted to wrap myself around him as I whispered the words soda pop into his ear over and over again.
But I figured I should play it cool. I didn’t want to seem needy. I’d wait for him to text me. There was no way I’d text him.
Crap, crap, crap. Panda, panda, panda.
Chapter Eight
THEY WERE PLAYING reruns of our reality show that night. I couldn’t help but watch. How did my life get like this? Shutting off the television, I sat in the dark hotel room and stared at my hand that had driven through a portrait a few months ago. The f**ked up truth was I appeared a lot more like my father than I ever wanted to. That thought was messing with my brain. Reaching into my wallet, I pulled out my wedding band and ran it through my fingers. I kept thinking about what Jesus had told me in the clinic about Iris. “What your wife did had nothing to do with you.” But was that true?
I wondered if I had been there for Iris after the two miscarriages, instead of at the bar drinking, how different things might have been.
My mom was an artist. Growing up in a house with an artist and an alcoholic, was quite interesting. I remember one night my father wanted her to stop painting her ‘fucking pieces of shit’ and cook him dinner. It was three in the morning, which was when mom said she found her inspiration. Looking back, I realized she was really up at three a.m. to make sure the as**ole came home from the bars and didn’t end up in a ditch somewhere. I’d sat and watched him yell at her, spit at her, and belittle her from the top of the stairs.
“You stupid bitch. Stop wasting our money on this garbage.” He yanked her from the canvas and started saying things that could f**k up anyone’s mind. He threw her painting and raised his hand as if he were going to slap her across the face.
My stomach twisted as I watched my mom cry and beg him to stop drinking. When I saw that hand of his hovering over her, I leaped up and screamed, shoving him away from her. The taste of the blood dripping from my upper lip was a surprise to me when he shoved me across the living room floor. The way my father’s eyes shifted to a person I’d never known terrified the living hell out of me. “Stop it!” I heard Mom cry as she raced over to me and stroked my hair. “Are you all right, Cooper?” Tears were streaming down my face and I shook my head. That night and many other drunken nights, were forever captured in my brain. A memory photograph book I wished would vanish.
That was the first summer I went to stay in Wisconsin. My mom had packed me up and sent me on an airplane by myself. Ever since she’d met my as**ole of a dad her connections to her family faded. He moved her away from everything she knew and kept her to himself in his home state of South Carolina. Mom didn’t think much of it—she was in love. But on the day she called my uncle for help, he was more than willing to allow me to spend the summers at their home. Before she sent me off the first year, she handed me a Polaroid camera—that camera changed my life.
My father was the alcoholic, yet it appeared my mother was the one with the illness. Dad was her sculpture and she was trying to shape him into something he wasn’t. I wondered, if she would have gotten on the plane with me, how different things might have been.
I slid the wedding band back into my wallet; I wasn’t ready to part with it yet. Shit. I was going to let her be the first to text, but sitting in the dark hotel room with nothing left but memories was too much. I was in need of some forgetting.
Fuckin’ A.
Soda pop.
Chapter Nine
HE LIGHTLY STROKED the side of my face with his hand, my arms and legs intertwined with his. His body heat against mine made it easy for me to not want to move from that hotel bed ever again. This time it was different. He kissed me harder, deeper. His arms forcefully flipped me over as his mouth covered every inch of my body. He was trying to forget a lot that evening. I didn’t mind. It made it easier for me to forget, too.
“I should get going…” My mind started racing trying to figure out how I would exactly get home. Ladasha and I had just paid rent, and I only had a few dollar bills left after the taxi ride over here. I didn’t know it would cost that dang much and now I was completely…
Oh my….One moan and my worries about money disappeared. Cooper started to touch me in ways that made everything better. The way he massaged every single inch of my body with only his thumbs made me want to scream his name for the rest of my life. His hands traveled to my stomach, sending shivers throughout me.
“Coop…” I whimpered as I closed my eyes. I heard a muffled growl on my neck as he continued to kiss me lower and lower…Down, down, down...
My back was ready to arch at his command as he climbed on top of me. My h*ps thrust towards him, begging for more attention. I didn’t want to stop him. I ran my fingertips across his back, pulling him closer to my body. His lips glazed over mine as he lifted my thighs.
His sweet whispers turned me on more and more each time. “I want you so bad,” he hissed as his tongue explored my breasts. My lips parted in time for him to slide his tongue inside. He lifted my hands and held them tightly against the mattress.
My quiet moans grew louder as the two of us grew closer to one another. His eyes locked with mine for a moment’s time before we both shut them and let our heat fuel our connection. The world became a blur. There was nothing wrong on this earth within that moment and time. For the feeling of seclusion alone, I could see myself never leaving Cooper’s side.
For the next two rounds of Cooper Davidson that occurred after the passionate kiss, I forgot all about my money worries. And I forgot about all my demons that were trying to eat at me each and every day. Soon all that was heard was our light breaths of exhaustion.
Best freaking soda pop of my life.
But it was time to go home. Before he could try to get me to stay a few rounds longer, I stood up and started to step back into my clothing.
“Let’s get breakfast tomorrow,” he proposed. I rolled my eyes to the ceiling and continued to get dressed. “Come on, you need to eat.”
“Not with you.” I laughed.
“Come on, doesn’t that sound good?” He stood up and wrapped his arms around me, nibbling on my ear as my eyes closed. That felt good. “Eggs, bacon, muffins…Come on, Andie.”
My mind filled with the image of Derrick calling my name for the last time ever. I had shivers running through me—unnerving memories taking over my brain. My eyes opened and a wave of coldness washed over me as I whispered, “Panda.” Cooper stepped back, unsure how he had offended me. I smiled and shrugged my shoulders as I put on my jacket. “It’s nothing personal.”
“It’s definitely personal.” He could see the hurt in my eyes, but I ignored his expression and walked towards the door. Crap. How was I getting home? All I knew was I couldn’t stay here any longer. Not with the way my emotions were lighting up. I stepped into the hallway and started walking down towards the elevator, but froze when my arm was grabbed.
“Here, take a taxi home,” Cooper said, handing me cash. I felt ashamed and shook my head.
“You don’t have to pay for what we did.”
Cooper narrowed his eyes and looked at me as if I were crazy. “I’m not. I’m paying to get you home safe.” He wrapped my head in his hands and kissed my forehead. I tried to hold the tears back. But I didn’t take his money; it felt way too soon to be taking anything from him.
I pushed it back to him and smiled. “Thank you, but I’m good.” My voice cracked as I said it and continued walking. A guy held the elevator for me and I got the feeling I would be taking that elevator ride and walk of shame quite often.
A SIGH OF relief filled my body as I stepped out of the hotel building and saw a taxi waiting a little ways down the street. Walking over to it, I had to tap on the window. It appeared the driver had snoozed off, and he was startled when he opened his eyes to see me.
“Hey, sorry. Are you running? I could use a ride.”
He sat up in his seat and smiled a warm grin to me. He was an older man, probably in his fifties or sixties. He nodded at me and told me to hop in. Sliding into the back of the taxi, I gave him directions and allowed my body to sink into the hard cushions as I closed my eyes.
“What’s wrong?”