Unobtainable (16 page)

“What about your sister?” I asked. “Was she sent away too?”

“My sister’s not gay,” he said, rolling onto his side, rubbing his thumb along the back of my hand. “You’ll meet her, she pops in from time to time and brings me food, she runs a little sandwich shop with her best friend Vic and I get a lot of the left overs. You’re going to love her, she’s the best little sister.”

He knew my brothers and had met my parents at the wedding, albeit briefly. There wasn’t much more to know, but I desperately wanted to change the subject. I wouldn’t say Harley was in a blue mood but he wasn’t as happy as he was when I first joined him in bed.

“So, would you ever consider flipping?” I asked, out of the blue with a grin on my face.

“No. I don’t bottom,” he placed his palm against my cheek. “Nice change of subject though, well done. You want to talk sex? It’s nearly midnight but I’m up for it.”

“Too late, but I did want to ask you something about your sexual experience.”

“Uh huh, fire away.”

“Have you ever slept with a woman?” I had to ask.

“Closing your eyes and snoring, yes. Sex? No. I came close at a party one time with this chick, Anna, she had massive tits and kept pressing them against me every chance she got. I told her I wasn’t into women and she asked me how I knew, I had no answer, that’s when she set the challenge,” Harley laughed, pulling my back to his chest. “She got me naked, then worked my dick until she had me hard. I played with her breasts, sucked her nipples for a while, I even fingered her until she was drenched. But when it came to fucking her, I couldn’t do it. She ended up sucking me off while I fingered an orgasm out of her,” he shrugged. “It wasn’t my best moment.”

We laughed while his hand stroked up and down my chest and stomach.

“You?” Harley asked.

“Nope, not even with Becca,” I admitted. “A bit of heavy petting, that was it. I can honestly say a woman has never made me hard.”

“Speaking of hard,” Harley pressed his growing chub against the back of my thigh. “If you want any sleep tonight, you’ll stop talking about sex.”

“Go to sleep, Harley.”

“Goodnight,” Harley said, grasping my chin and kissing his glorious lips to mine. He made it linger, no tongue, no groping, just a heart melting kiss.

He rolled away from me, I grabbed my book and glasses, propping myself with pillows, and read for a while.

“Don’t touch me,” I heard Harley mumble some time later, looking over to where he lay mumbling.

He was asleep, but must have been dreaming. I didn’t think any more of it until he tossed onto his back and groaned, a painfully disturbing groan, like something from a horror movie.

“Get off me!” he screamed, as his body shot upright and he sat shaking.

“Harley?” I asked, placing my hand carefully on his shoulder. “You okay?”

He rubbed his face, taking a deep breath and laid back. “Just a fucked up, lousy dream.”

“You want to talk about it?” I asked, immediately regretting the question as Harley rolled onto his side, facing away from me.

“I said,” he snapped. “It was nothing but a fucking dream…goodnight.”

“Sorry.”

I went back to my book and tried to concentrate, but every sentence seemed to flow into the next and I ended up reading the same page over and over without actually comprehending the words. I closed my book and placed it with my glasses on the bedside table and turned out the light before sliding down under the covers, turning my back towards Harley.

Oscar the grouch has nothing on you
, I thought, closing my eyes.

Harley rolled over and moved his hard chest to my back, he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me tight against his chest, as his lips touched my shoulder, he kissed it gently.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized.

I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms over his, holding him, letting him know I would without question tolerate his behavior because I was a fool like that. He had this way of being nasty and cruel, vicious even, and he also had this way of cooing up to me and making me feel special enough to forgive him.

~Harley~

The one thing I never wanted Dyson to witness was the nightmares and fuck me if that wasn’t the exact thing that happened. It was his fault, I tried to convince myself, if he hadn’t insisted on our sleeping together he would never have known. Though it wasn’t the worst I’d had in a very long time, it was still exhausting. I was so nasty to Dyson, how was it he could forgive me so easily?

There was no other thing to do but avoid spending the entire night. I would go back to waiting for him to fall asleep and then go to my own bed. If it meant so much to him to sleep together, I would have to give in and tell him the truth.

For a simple marriage agreement, it was slowly becoming very complicated.

~Dyson~

Harley’s mood seemed to merger from one day to the next. Each night brought more of those dreams and with those dreams a distance, a wall of layers he was building. Though I offered to listen and tried not to allow his moodiness to affect me, I was growing more frustrated with the man I shared my bed with.

Last night’s dream was a doozy, it had Harley so rattled he ended up sleeping in his own bed. I was tempted to follow after him, climb into his bed and force him to talk to me but I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he’d only end up kicking me out.

A thought flashed in my mind. I had never stepped foot inside Harley’s room. I’d never been invited in, I hadn’t even looked in from the hallway and I couldn’t think why. I found myself standing outside his closed door and as I curled my hand into a fist with my knuckles ready to knock, the door opened and Harley stood in the threshold with a gleaming smile on his face.

“Good morning,” he said, stepping into the hall and closing the door behind him. “I was thinking French toast, do we have powdered sugar by chance?”

“Yeah, second shelf down in the pantry,” I said, glancing at the bedroom door. “Let me finish dressing and I’ll make it.”

“I didn’t mean you had to make it,” he laughed. “French toast is my specialty, a dash of cinnamon and nutmeg, some vanilla, my secret ingredient and you’ll fall in love. I’ll see you down there.”

I was already in love...with him.

Try as I might I couldn’t fight it anymore, I had to admit, if only to myself, that I was in fact head over heels in love with Harley Cooper. But my lips were sealed, I would never have the guts to tell him and it was most definitely something Harley didn’t want to hear.

I watched him happily trot down the stairs. It was as if he had slept like a baby, refreshed and well rested. If I had not been privy to the nightmare that woke us both, I would never have guessed he had lost a minute of sleep.

What deep dark dreams was my sleeping beauty keeping from me? And what was behind this door, I placed my palm on the cold steel frame and wondered. I may be his husband on a license only, but it didn’t stop me from caring.

The smell of French toast wafted up the stairs as I came from my room. I threw my suit jacket over the back of the sofa and watched as Harley set our plates on the table and poured us each a cup of coffee. I couldn’t get past how handsome he was. He had the tea towel tucked into the front of his pants like an apron with his tie thrown over his shoulder and his shirt sleeves were rolled up his arms, his thick arms made me envision them wrapped around my waist while I licked powdered sugar from his lips.

“Hey,” he jolted me from my thoughts, when he saw me standing staring. “Come eat before it gets cold.”

Sitting without saying anything, because I was playing with so many scenarios in my head, wondering which to use when broaching the bedroom subject, I cut a corner from my French toast and plunked it into my mouth.

“Whoa, this is really good.” I moaned my appreciation. “I taste orange.”

“Yep, orange juice and heavy cream, my secret ingredient,” he said, as he enjoyed his breakfast.

“Your secrets not such a secret anymore,” I laughed, filling my face.

My cell rang, I was quick to answer when I saw Mr. Spiro’s name.

“Hello, Mr. Spiro.”

Harley lifted his chin in interest, I shook my head holding up a finger while I listened. “Okay, well thanks for calling.”

“What’s up?”

“Spiro can’t make our meeting, he had to cancel.”

“Works for me,” Harley said, pretending to wipe sweat from his forehead. “By the way I’m going for a haircut after work, I’ll be late getting home.”

“It’s not like you have to tell me your every move,” I said, a little on the snotty side, acting very much the drama queen.

“No, I don’t have to,” he concurred. “I was simply being gracious, letting you know so you didn’t make dinner and wonder where I was.”

“Thank you for that,” I snorted.

“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” he asked.

“Woke up alone,” I said, with my brow raised and kicked myself immediately. Why did I say that?

“Not that again, I told you I wouldn’t always be there.”

“That you did,” I said, taking my plate to the sink. “At least you told me that much.”

“What the fuck is with you?” Harley asked, scraping his plate off into the garbage and placing it into the sink with mine.

“Why won’t you tell me about your nightmares? You keep me at a constant distance and not once have you asked me into
your
bedroom, why?”

Taking two travel mugs from the cupboard, Harley filled them both and secured their lids. He rubbed his hand over his face and chewed the inside of his cheek as he turned to look at me. He had a discerning look in his eyes for a long moment and then looked away.

“Telling you is not going to change history,” he scowled.

“Living with whatever it is that’s bothering you doesn’t make it history either,” I told him. “And ignoring it won’t make it go away.”

“I have a past,” he said. “A past that I’m not proud of and I choose to keep to myself. And so you know…my bedroom is off limits to everyone, not just you. Don’t make this personal. I keep a distance because I choose to keep a distance. You need to get over this
needy
thing you have going on, I don’t like it.”

“Needy?” I snorted, twisting my jaw and narrowing my eyes. “Well at least I’m not a heartless prick!”

“Yeah,” he said, quietly. “I am a heartless prick. It would make things easier if you remembered that in the future.”

“Indelibly etched!” I pointed to my forehead before turning and walking away.

“Fuck,” Harley said, on a sigh racing after me. “Don’t be like that, I’m sorry!”

Swiftly I turned and held my hand to his chest. “Maybe it would be better if we go back to our original arrangement, you in your room and me in mine. You won’t even know I’m here.  The remainder of our time will go by much faster if we aren’t tripping over each other. Agreed?”

I held out my hand and waited.

“I didn’t hear you, agreed?” I asked, again.

Harley slapped my hand away with a growl. “I’m not playing your stupid fucking games, Dyson…go fuck yourself…do whatever the fuck you please.”

“I’ll start looking for an apartment, how’s that?” I snapped, as Harley grabbed his things and stormed to the door.

“Have a nice fucking day,” he added, as the door raced along its track slamming into place, causing the floor to rumble and the pictures on the wall to clatter.

~~~

Almost a week had passed and Harley and I had yet to speak. Even at work we avoided each other like the plague and each apartment viewing Tag and I went on, turned out to be either too big or too small, an unkempt hovel or so sterile with rules that we considered them uninhabitable.

After viewing a nice apartment on the upper eastside of town near the business district on my lunch hour, I came back to the office to find out that Clair had gone home sick. Our staff had been reduced to fuck all because of an idiotic flu bug going around. It wasn’t only inconveniencing things around the office it was making them problematic, in that the paychecks needed to be handed out therefore I was elected by process of elimination. I peered about and yep, not a soul but me.

Handing out the paychecks was made easier since only a handful of staff were in. Boom, boom, boom, I was just about finished. I closed my eyes and groaned when I read the name on the final envelope. It was Harley’s.

As I crept along the corridor, I noted that Harley’s office door was open. I bit the bullet and quickly walked to the doorway steadying myself for a confrontation and let out the breath I was holding, when I glanced into his office and it was empty.

I tossed his envelope onto the surface of his desk and turned to leave, slamming face first into a solid wall of muscle. God he smelled so good, a combination of spicy cologne, mint chewing gum and cigarette smoke.

“Dyson, I’m glad you’re here I need to apologize for the other morning, I was totally out of order, I,”

“You’ve been smoking,” I barked, before he could finish his sentence, which would cause me to roll over and forgive his sorry ass. “You stink.”

“I’m trying to say I’m sorry here,” he said, indignantly.

“And I don’t give a fuck,” I spit out, as I pushed around him. “You told me to go fuck myself…I have a ton of work to do and we’re short staffed.”

“Come on,” he yelled to me, as I stormed along the hall every bit like a raging bull. “Don’t be like that!”

If he dared speak that sentence one more time, I was going to back track my ass along that hall and slap the shit out of the man. Lucky for him, he went into his office and slammed the door.

At four o’clock on the dot I received a text message.

~Harley~

It was time to put an end to this bullshit. I had a tendency to strike without thinking, my mouth raged masses of verbal diarrhea without considering whom it was directed at. It was a form of self-defense built into me. Kill before being killed. Thanks to mommy dearest.

Dyson snuck around the apartment, tip toed up and down the stairs, he came in late at night and when he was home he spent all his time in his room hiding from me. Talking through bedroom and bathroom doors was tiring, especially when the conversation was all one sided. I’d watch him walk into a room yet my questions would go unanswered as if it were empty. He was acting like a big baby and there was no blaming him after the horrible things I said. I told the guy to go fuck himself, who says that to someone you care for?

I would give messaging him one last try, then I was going to burst his fucking office door down and pin him to the floor until he heard what I had to say.

Harley: I owe you an explanation please give me that much.

Me: Why should I?

Harley: Because I’m asking. Can I buy you a drink?

Me: One and not Chivas.

Harley: 5:30pm at Chances?

Me: 6pm

Finally I was making headway, he had agreed to meet me. Dyson thought he had the upper hand by telling me six, I would let him have that.

Sleep deprivation was killing me. Not only did the nightmares steal away my slumber, the thoughts and dreams of Dyson stole what was left. My moods were swinging out of control. I was biting heads off, chewing them up and spitting them out.

The last straw was Chelsea’s call, when she hung up on me after I snapped at her over the stain finish for the baby’s cradle. When I called her back to apologize, she had been crying. Chelsea didn’t deserve to cry. I loved her dearly and it broke my heart. She wisely told me after confiding in her, that I needed to get a grip and treat Dyson properly before I lost him. She was right, this was all my doing. I had made my bed by agreeing to marry Dyson and I had to either let him in or let him walk away. I didn’t want him walking away.

I headed to
Chances
early.

~Dyson~

There was no way I was going to be prompt, no way I was going to give him the satisfaction of snapping his fingers and I’d jump. So I sat in my office staring defiantly at the clock while it ticked away the minutes, proving I had the upper hand by being fifteen minutes late. Yup, I would show him.

Funny, I knew exactly where he’d be sitting, the corner booth near the washrooms, the most private booth in the place mainly because of its less than favorable local. And there he was. He was staring into an empty glass with a perplexed look on his face. I could tell he was lost in thought and wondered for a moment if I was a trace of what had him so engrossed. Like he had felt my presence, he looked up and our eyes locked. He picked up his glass and tipped it as an invitation to join him. I hesitated for only a moment before meandering over while he watched me.

“I’m glad you came, thank you.”

He sounded so sincere, like he couldn’t believe I showed up at all. Had I been that unreasonable? Was I acting every bit the monster that I imagined I was being? Well too bad, I lifted my head defiantly and sat.

“Would you like a beer? Or something a little stronger?” he asked, waving Sam over.

“Just a beer, whatever’s on tap will do,” I said, slipping off my jacket and setting it on the seat beside me.

“Gentlemen, what will it be today?” Sam asked, wiping the table with a wet rag and setting down two cardboard coasters with the Budweiser logo on them.

“Two drafts in clean glasses please, Sam,” Harley joked, but I could see his eyes weren’t laughing.

“Clean glasses?” Sam smirked. “This ain’t no classy joint, gentlemen. But I’ll make sure those glasses are clean because you’re my two favorite customers…today anyway,” he laughed, as he turned to walk away. “You want eats?”