Page 20

RYAN

Halfway through the first episode, Marlow kicks her feet up onto the coffee table.

It’s not the first time she’s ever done it, but it is the first time I’ve seen her do it while wearing a dress.

The fabric of her skirt bunches slightly around her mid-thigh and I can’t stop myself from stealing a glance at her soft, pale skin.

Then there’s the matter of that damn strap that won’t stop falling down off her shoulder, reminding me again and again that she doesn’t seem to be wearing a bra under her dress.

When it happens again, I glance over and our eyes catch on each other for a few seconds.

I turn back toward the television, determined to stare straight ahead, but I can’t seem to stop the words from falling out of my mouth. “You’re killing me tonight in that dress.”

Marlow is silent and still beside me. The words just hang there in the air between us.

I don’t look over at her. There are only two things that could happen if I do: she’ll look at me in a way that gives me a flicker of hope, or she’ll look at me in a way that silently dismisses what I’ve just said.

And I’m not letting her off that easy. If she doesn’t want more, I need to hear her say it.

Over and over again until we’re both convinced.

“Ryan…”

There it is – the sympathetic yet dismissive tone. Her answer to my unasked question. It’s what I needed, but not quite enough of what I needed.

I pause the show and look over at her. “Tell me your worst sex story,” I say, trying to change the tone of this conversation.

“What?” she laughs.

“Your worst sex story. A time when you did something so horrible or embarrassing that the guy stopped banging you right then and there.”

Something I can add to the ever-diminishing con side of my Marlow list.

Marlow chews on her lip while she thinks of an answer. Or maybe while she considers if she’s going to answer at all.

“Well, um, there was this guy who I had been dating for a couple months. Everything was going fine, but the sex was sort of…lacking…for both of us. I finally brought it up and asked if there was something he was into that maybe we could try. I sort of hoped he would reciprocate, but he didn’t.

Instead, he was pretty eager to spill his guts about wanting to be dominated in bed.

I said I’d give it a shot, but it wasn’t something I’d ever done before.

It wasn’t even something I’d ever considered, honestly.

So, I got all dressed up in my best attempt at a dominatrix outfit one night – fishnet stockings and this leather corset thing I ordered online, no panties… ”

“You’re aware that I’m asking you to turn me off, right?” I interrupt.

She rolls her eyes. “Do you want to hear this or not?”

“No…maybe…ugh, just keep going.”

“I tied his arms and legs up to the bed like he asked, but I had no idea what to do next. Spanking was all that came to mind, but he was lying on his back, so that wouldn’t work.

He asked me to slap him around a little bit, but not too hard.

I tried my best to oblige. I got a couple decent slaps in, but then I was lost again.

So, I pinched his nose…and the next thing you know, I’m doing the full-on ‘got your nose’ routine, like he’s a toddler.

I didn’t even know penises could go limp so quickly. ”

Lucky bastard. I’ve never had even an inkling of desire to be dominated, but the idea of a panty-less Marlow straddling me…well, it’s not making me any limper. She can have my nose.

“You wouldn’t have to worry about that with me,” I finally manage to say.

“Not into being dominated?”

“No, the opposite, actually.”

Marlow’s eyes flare but she’s quick to disguise whatever fleeting feeling she had about my brazen comment.

“Okay, now you,” she says.

“Me what?”

“Your most embarrassing sex story. Go.”

I laugh and shake my head. “I’m not giving you any more reasons not to have sex with me. You seem to have enough already.”

“I never said I didn’t want to have sex with you. I said I can’t. Tell me some off-putting story to remind me why. You must have plenty of them.”

Well, now I definitely don’t want to.

“Come on, it’s only fair.”

“Fine,” I relent.

But all I can think of is that tiny ray of hope that Marlow just gave me. That tiny possibility that she might want something more from me. I hold onto it tightly, committing the words and the face she made while saying them to memory.

But she’s staring at me now, expecting a story.

There must be some story where I’m being an amazing sex god and then do something mildly embarrassing. Some moment when I was just too damn good at sex. Something like people say in job interviews when asked about their biggest weakness. Something like Marlow’s story.

But nothing comes to mind. That’s the thing about most of the sex I’ve had: it’s forgettable.

Marlow is staring up at me now like she’s wondering if I’ve ever actually had sex before. So much time has passed since I last spoke. A laugh is sitting just behind her lips, swelling up behind her smile.

Then it hits me.

“My first time was sort of embarrassing.” I cringe as the words leave my mouth. This is not something I usually share, particularly with women that I’d like to sleep with.

“Did you have an American Pie moment and finish before you even touched the poor girl?” she laughs.

“No, I had that covered. The embarrassing part is that I was twenty-two.”

Marlow studies my face as if she’s a trained CIA agent trying to decipher a lie. She’s sitting up ramrod straight beside me now, her legs no longer stretched out in front of her.

“You’re so full of it,” she finally laughs. “There’s no way that Ryan Ehler, Sex King of Eastern Tennessee, has only been practicing his craft for the lesser part of a decade.”

I shrug. “I wasn’t the high school football star you think I was. In fact, I was about as unpopular as they come. Shy, too. The closest thing to sports that I ever did was Boy Scouts…and I did that until I was eighteen.”

Marlow gasps. “No way. I didn’t even know it went up to that age.”

“Technically, it’s Eagle Scouts by then, but yeah. That was my thing, I guess. I liked being outdoors, learning to tie knots and start fires and all that. It definitely didn’t make me very popular with the ladies back then.”

“Was there a uniform?”

“Oh yeah.”

“And where exactly is the photographic evidence of that stored?”

“Somewhere you’ll never, ever see it,” I say with a wink. I’m so tired that I’m not sure if I pull it off.

“So when did things change? After Blair?”

“The Forest Service had a lot to do with it. When I started working there, I gained a lot of confidence. I knew exactly what I was talking about, more so than a lot of the other people who come through here do. I liked teaching them what I know, hence the volunteer coordinator position. And once I broke out of my shell at work, it helped me to be more social in other parts of my life. When Blair and I broke up, that translated into talking to more girls at the bar.”

Marlow chews her lip again. “Can I ask you something else?”

“What happened with Blair?” I guess.

She nods.

“Yeah, I was sort of surprised that you didn’t ask before the wedding.”

“I felt like I had already made things awkward enough,” she admits with a grimace.

“Can’t argue with that. As far as Blair goes, we had been growing apart for a while. Then my dad met Cheryl, and Blair met Kevin, and that was it.”

“Did she cheat on you?”

“The timeline’s murky…but probably. The fact that I didn’t really care was a big eye-opener for me.

We were both staying in a shitty relationship just because everyone else we knew was pretty much doing the same thing at that age.

I decided then and there that I would never be with someone just for the sake of being with someone again. And I’m a lot happier now.”

“Now that you’re free to sleep with anyone you want?”

“ Almost anyone,” I wink again, more successfully this time. Marlow blushes. I love making her do that. “And yeah, I guess so. Just generally happier with the situation.”

Sadness flashes across Marlow’s face. She probably doesn’t understand how someone could be happier this way.

She’s a relationship girl, she said so herself.

We’re fundamentally different in the way we approach these things.

I won’t get into another relationship until I’m absolutely certain that it’s right.

Marlow won’t get into bed with someone until she’s absolutely certain that it’s a fully-formed relationship.

It feels like not one – but two – giant walls that we’ll need to scale in order to make this work.

Until tonight, I felt like that second wall was at least in view, but I can tell by the way she danced around the subject of Kayla that she doesn’t fully trust me yet.

This will all blow up in my face if we rush things.

And maybe we’ll never get there, but at least we’ll be friends.

At least that’s what I keep telling myself.

___

Consciousness seeps in slowly. The muffled buzz of something on the television. The soft scratch of the sofa fabric under one palm. The stiffness in my neck from falling asleep with my head cocked to one side.

Just as I’m opening my eyes, Marlow’s voice registers in my ears.

“Hey, let’s go to bed.” It’s barely a whisper and obviously a waking dream. It has to be.

A gentle tug on my hand draws my eyes open. Marlow is looking at me. Her eyelids are heavy, too. My exhaustion is reflected in her glassy blue eyes.

“Come on,” she coaxes.

I’m still not sure if I understand her meaning. Even as I stand up and let her lead me into the adjoining bedroom, I’m searching my pocket for my car keys and vaguely considering the distance from Marlow’s apartment to the bar, the bar to the station, where my truck is parked.

“Here,” Marlow says as she hands me a standard-issue Forest Service t-shirt. It’s the one we all get once a year. They’re all a men’s size large unless we bother to special order some, which we don’t.

“Are you sure?” I’m not asking about the shirt and Marlow knows it.

“Yes.”

In a matter of minutes, I’m in a fresh t-shirt and my boxers in Marlow’s bed drifting off to sleep again. She’s beside me, but there’s that ever-present sliver of space between us.

The next time I wake up, my arm is draped around something…

someone…Marlow. My chest is pressed against her back.

She moves in a way that tells me that she just woke up as well.

I mumble the word ‘sorry’ next to her ear as I start to roll away.

But Marlow’s hand finds my wrist and urges me back into the warm spot next to her, pulling me even closer than before.

I will myself to stay awake and enjoy the feeling of her, but it isn’t long before I drift off to sleep again.