6
SANDY
“The room’s ready,” Tyler says, his eyes scanning my face. It’s sweet that he’s checking that I’m okay after being left in a room with five of his friends.
Despite appearances, they all actually seem like good guys. Really good guys built like houses with enough tattoos to open an art gallery. It’s hard to know where to look when confronted by so much man.
I guess this is something that Connie has to deal with every day. And Natalie. And Melanie, who got with the cousins that Connie intended for me.
She actually thought I’d be able to handle five ranchers.
I think Connie has a much-inflated opinion of my capabilities.
The feel of Andrew’s arm around my shoulder and his soft whispered words of sympathy flash through my memory, and I flush. He’s the first man to touch me that way for a very long time. Maybe that’s the reason that such a simple touch stirred something inside me.
That and he looks like Paul Walker’s younger brother.
“Okay. Shall I come up?” I ask.
“Sure. I’ll get you settled in.”
“Yeah, he will,” Arden says with a wink.
“Are you starting again?” Andrew says in a warning tone that only amuses his brother even more.
“Come on.” Tyler leads me out of the room, and I follow him up the stairs, which curve around, ending in a wide and open hallway. Seven doors are arranged around, but only one is open. “Here, let me show you,” Tyler says, holding out his arm to steer me into what I guess is his bedroom.
There is something so personal about being in this space. The air holds Tyler’s scent, and all around are the things that he uses every day. I used to know all of his clothes. I used to know what shower products he used and what toothpaste. Now, everything is unfamiliar.
Except…
“You still have the bear?” It was stupid of me to buy him a teddy bear, but we were young, and I loved him, and somehow, at the time, it seemed right. I flush with embarrassment, and he stuffs his hands into his pockets as though he feels the same.
“Yeah.”
The room is tidy, although I’m pretty sure that if I threw open the doors to the closet, I’d get smothered in his hastily stored clothes. The bed is big, dressed in fresh white linens and draped with a large gray blanket. “It sometimes gets cold at night,” he says, noticing where I’m looking.
“Okay, thanks…” I scan the walls, and there are plenty of photographs but just of Tyler and the men downstairs. None of his family. That tells me a lot. “You know, I really don’t mind taking the sofa. You should stay here, and I’ll take a sheet and comforter…I just hate to put you out.”
“Honestly. It’s no trouble.”
We stand awkwardly for a moment while all of the unsaid questions spin through my mind like a hamster on a wheel. In the end, I remember Andrew’s words and stuff everything back down where it will have to remain.
My sister always says that it’s best to leave the past in the past. When I bring up my mom and dad’s selfishness, she tells me that it’s pointless dwelling on it because they’re never going to change. Holding onto past hurt only hurts me more. I was doing okay at trying to forget, but now, being surrounded by everything Tyler, it’s all come flooding back.
But I can squash it down again for a night or two. I can be this version of myself that puts Tyler first because that’s what he needs. Lashing out won’t make me feel better, and it won’t undo what happened to me either. Best to just get on with it.
“Thanks,” I say softly.
Tyler smiles then grabs a pile of clothes from the dresser. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.” Nodding, he leaves, and I take a deep breath before closing the door. I slowly lower myself onto the bed, feeling weary. The buckles on my shoes are tight, but I manage to unhook them, relishing my feet being freed onto the cool wood floor. The zip at the back of my dress is awkward, but I succeed in lowering it and end up standing in Tyler’s room in just my panties and a strapless bra.
So many times, Tyler undressed me after we’d been to a party, unwrapping me until I was left just like this. He loved to drop to his knees in front of me and kiss the soft line of skin above the fabric of my panties. He’d tongue my clit through the lace before baring me to his eyes and mouth. His mouth on my nipples was so hot and wet, teeth nipping, hands gripping, everything so frantic.
I cup my own pussy as the intense feelings spill through me all over again. The ache of the absence of his touch is just as painful now as it has ever been. It’s like a part of me was hacked away, but the memory of it is still fresh, maybe something like the way the body remembers an amputated limb.
Biting my lip, I close my eyes and try to focus on the here and now and what I need to do to get through; find my nightwear, clean my teeth, and wash my face. Get into bed and sleep. Wake up tomorrow and put one step in front of the other. Once I’ve listed it out, I start to tick off each task until I’m sliding into Tyler’s bed and inhaling the fresh lavender scent of his sheets. Staring up at the ceiling in the darkness, my mind wanders again. How many times has he lain here thinking about me? How many times has he touched himself in this bed, stroking the cock that used to be mine?
Has he had other women in this bed? Did he like them better than me?
Those last thoughts make me feel sick to my stomach.
Rolling onto my side, I pull out my cellphone and text Suzanne. I’m sure she’ll be asleep, but I know my sister will worry if she doesn’t hear from me after a long journey.
Wedding was good. All fine. Staying away for a couple of nights. Be back Tuesday. Kiss Sophie for me.
Then I set my phone to play the meditation music that soothes my mind into sleep on nights when I’m thinking too much.
It’s silent in the house when I wake and still very dark. Reaching for my phone, I see that the time reads 2:30 am. There’s a distant thud, and I wonder if that’s what woke me. My mouth is dry, and I have the beginnings of a headache coming, which is dangerous. The prospect of experiencing a full-blown migraine while I’m staying here isn’t a pleasant one.
I should get some water and take my pills. It’s the only way I have a chance of being okay in the morning.
Sliding out of Tyler’s bed feels strange. Opening the door into the corridor feels even stranger. There are six men sleeping in this house, and here I am, tiptoeing around like a thief in the night.
At the bottom of the stairs, I hear another thud and a low deep growl that quickly switches to something high-pitched and frantic. My feet carry me toward the sound that’s coming from the kitchen. Even in the dark, I see Tyler’s limbs writhing. His blanket is tangled around his legs and arms, and he seems to be struggling.
“NO,” he groans. “NO…JAKE.”
His face contorts, his eyes still tightly closed. It’s a nightmare…the kind that tortures from the inside out. I stand paralyzed, watching him fight, but the sounds he makes become pitiful, and I can’t take it anymore.
I drop to my knees beside him and rest my hand on his face. “Tyler,” I say firmly. “Tyler. It’s okay. It’s just a dream.”
His hand grabs my arm in the fastest reflex I’ve ever seen, and his eyes bolt open, flashing the color of a green tree snake in the darkness.