If Not for You (Completed)

Chapter 8: Kale

8 Kale

I couldn't eat my cereal. I'd slept the entire night fighting through a raging boner and woke high and dry in the worst sort of way. By attempting breakfast, I thought I'd get my mind off it, and it had worked. Temporarily. But the thought that Kazzi was down the hall now, naked in the shower, did horrible, unfair things to my body that flared it all up again.

After the life I'd lived, sex had become monotonous and unimportant to me. It was a quick, repetitive act between two people in which, in 99.9% of all of my cases, only my partner ever got off. I had to ensure it if I wanted paid. As a result, I'd learned to please a woman and even a man in ways that rivaled most porn videos. But I hated it. I hated sex, and unless there was a guarantee of food or warmth at the end of it, I wanted nothing to do with it.

And then I saw Kazzi again.

From the first moment she held me, crying on the floor, my entire body had roared to life with unabating willpower. I'd clamped it down, hard, but my resolve was becoming weaker and weaker until just the thought of her being naked was enough to bring me undone.

Pushing away from the counter, I left my cereal bowl unattended and started for the front door. I could still hear the shower running down the hall when I opened it and closed it behind me and forced the mental images that followed far out of my mind.

The air outside was miserable. Though less humid than I remembered it being last week, it was still too warm for my taste. I couldn't wait for cooler weather. The lower temps of autumn before the snow came was somewhat pleasant for street living.

I dreaded winter, when food was harder to find and the cold seeped so deeply into my bones I was sure my marrow was made of ice. There were no warm nights in winter, not unless I worked for them. Since I was sick though, and I had Kazzi, I couldn't in a million years imagine going back to that life and regretted every second I'd sold to it thus far.

Inhaling deeply and painfully, I placed a hand over my ribs as I blew out a relaxed sigh. Kazzi lived in a nice neighborhood, I noticed. I hadn't bothered to pay attention the last few times I'd been outside, but looking around now, it seemed peaceful. We were on the lower-left corner of a cul-de-sac, nestled among houses of similar size and design. Though Kazzi's was the only one painted a less-than-desirable color, it seemed to fit right in with the earth-toned styles of the neighbors.

At the end of the street, a group of teens was gathered on the driveway of the corner house, two girls, and twin guys. They lounged casually against the back-end of some late-model minivan, seemingly waiting for the school bus.

Padding down the driveway, I stepped out onto the street, the change of scenery making tremendous progress in shrinking my overactive testosterone tube. The yard next door was littered with toddler toys, and from the enclosed front porch, I could hear the squeals of said toddler as he played. A pair of eyes found me from within, looking like the protective stare of the boy's mom, and I offered a courteous wave before passing her house to walk up the street.

The cul-de-sac spilled out into a four-way intersection. The street across was another cul-de-sac, the ones to the left and right running straight before curving into the unknown. A fine layer of sweat beaded on my brow as I took the street left, and I swiped at it as I walked. My ribs were thundering in pain with every step and breath I took, and I laid a hand gently over them as the street curved and started up another long avenue before exiting the neighborhood.

For a long time, I simply stood at the mouth of the turnoff and let my eyes sweep the surroundings. Even the town Kazzi lived in was nice. Across the street was an open plaza, a grocery store being its center showcase. It was coupled with barbershops and hole-in-the-wall restaurants, a gym at the far end, and a handful of other nondescript stores that didn't seem to get much business by the lack of cars in front of them. I didn't know why I felt sorry for their owners. I just imagined that it had to be horrible to put so much of yourself into something and have it fail. I'd done the same with my life and knew firsthand the heartache.