“Like this?” I ask as I try to gyrate with her on my lap. It’s not easy and the solid ground is unforgiving, but I think she gets the picture.
She looks at me again, but this time it’s different. This time the tension in the air is thicker and everything around us has stilled. Her fingers lock with mine and press against the strings of the guitar. Our chests inhale and exhale in unison as our breathing becomes the focal point around us. And when she licks her lips, I know I’m the one who is going to make the move.
“You’re so beautiful,” I say as I press my lips against the side of her neck. She tenses briefly but doesn’t ask me to stop or push me away, so I keep moving my lips along her skin, placing small kisses up her neck and behind her ear.
My hand pulls the guitar away from her and sets it on the ground. She turns in my lap, letting me capture her lips with mine. This time she doesn’t allow me to tease her lower lip, as her tongue seeks mine out before I’m even ready. Somehow I have stealth-like moves and am able to lay us on the ground with Kimberly cradled in my arms and our legs tangled as our hands hold and caress each other.
I nip at her lip and am rewarded with a hiss. Her sweet sound encourages me, teases me. Kimberly is aggressive with her lips, hungry. She acts like she can’t get enough, and that scares me. I pull away and place openmouthed kisses along her cheek, stopping to nibble on her ear before moving down her neck and back to her mouth, where I take over. I slow things down and kiss her deeply while my hand holds her face.
We adjust so I’m hovering over her. It’d be so easy to just rip our clothes off and pleasure ourselves, but I don’t want to cheapen the way I feel about her.
“You’re so beautiful,” I tell her again in between kisses.
“You are too, with your pouty lips always looking like James Dean and your perfect blue eyes.” She pulls me down for another kiss, not giving me much time to bask in the major compliment she just gave me.
This is how we stay until we hear the call for dinner. And only then do we stop kissing. I can’t remember a time when I made out with a girl without trying to feel her up or have her suck my dick. It’s not that I don’t want to do that with Kim; I do, but not here. There’s a better time and place for us to be alone, and when that happens I won’t be a patient. I’ll be clean and sober, someone she can be proud of.
Chapter 11
Bodhi
I used coke to get high, to feel like I was invincible and could do anything. I snorted because I thought no one, including myself, cared about how I was ruining my life. I wasn’t going to be that person—the one who got addicted. I told myself I could stop at any time, that what I was doing was only for recreational purposes and not a matter of survival. I loved the way I felt when the powder invaded my bloodstream. I basked in the euphoria. Coke was my friend, and friends don’t hurt each other.
I was wrong.
After my first line, I craved more. I loved the high so much that I never wanted to come down. The first time with Aspen was enough to start my downfall. I like to think that if she wasn’t around I would’ve stopped, but the candy was readily available. I didn’t have to ask; she just knew. I don’t want to call her a dealer, but she was. I also don’t like referring to her as someone who fed me the drugs, because I had free will, but if she hadn’t been there, I don’t know if I’d be here now.
But I am, and now I have a new drug, one that goes by the name of Kimberly Gordon.
I can see why addiction is such a strong feeling. When you physically crave or desire an object, there isn’t anything that is going to stand in your way, and that is how I feel about Kimberly. The other night, in the woods, was a turning point. At least for me it was. That night by the pond I put myself out there, only to be told I’m a risk. I know I am. I’m an addict, and there is always the threat of a relapse; in my world, the threat is even greater. Who in their right mind would want to be involved with me?
After each therapy session I question whether I’m good enough for Kim. I’m reminded almost daily of the triggers that exist and how I’m going to cope with them. Deep down I’m aware I can’t use Kim as a coping mechanism, but she can help. Knowing she’s in my corner or that at a certain time I’m going to see her is a relief. It’s the unknown that scares me. What if I leave here and never see her again?
No, that can’t happen. Not after everything we’ve shared. And not after she kissed me again. She didn’t ask me to stop or pull away even though we could’ve been caught by anyone out for a walk. Kimberly let me hold her, caress her. She didn’t tell me I was wrong for feeling this way. I’m going to keep on thinking she feels the same until she tells me otherwise.
I think about how someone like her should be happy, and I wonder if I’m the one to do that for her. On paper it looks like I have my shit together. Yes, Virtuous Paradox is a success, but if I’m not careful, I could lose my spot with the group. I firmly believe that even though I have a trust fund that sets me up for life, she needs something better. Physically the only thing I have going for me is my looks, which won’t get me very far if I’m not careful.
As luck would have it, I see on the chore list that I’m assigned to Kim’s office today. When I arrive, she’s not at her desk. I don’t let that bother me, since it’s happened before, but this is the first time I’ve really had a chance to see her since the other afternoon. I can’t put into words how I felt with her on my lap, teaching me how to play the guitar.
I’m dusting her cabinets when she walks in. I hear her behind me but act like I’m enthralled by the job I’m doing. Not turning around to see her is painful, but I’m thinking that I can play a little hard to get. I have to bite the inside of my cheek when I hear her huff.
“Excuse me, Bodhi. I need help getting a box down.”
I set the feather duster down and turn to see her walking away from me. Okay, maybe ignoring her wasn’t the best idea. I follow her to a closet, which she opens.
“It’s that one,” she says, pointing into the closet.
As I move past her, I see that her eyes are focused on the box. Either she’s pissed or she’s playing coy because she’s at work. I’m going with the coy angle because she has to know I was only teasing; if she doesn’t, I’ll be sure to show her later.
I step into the closet, but suddenly I hear the door click shut behind me and I’m plunged into darkness. Her arms are around my waist before I can even turn around to find out what’s going on. My heart starts to race with anticipation as I slowly turn in her arms. Without any light, I have to let my other senses do the work, with my favorite being touch.
“I shouldn’t be in here with you,” she whispers.
“Why are you, then?” I ask, letting my fingers trail down the side of her face.
“Because I can’t stay away from you. It’s morally wrong and I could lose my job, but you’re not just any patient.”
“You’re right, I’m not,” I say against her neck.