Love with a Bang

6. Aida

I'm kissing Lachlan. Full frenching him in the Bumble Bee bathroom. Except, I can't find a fuck to give. I can hear the buzz of people in the cafe, but the feeling of Lachlan's body on mine as he pushes his tongue in to explore overwhelms my senses entirely. We're getting alarmingly close to hitting public indecency territory, with my top already off after the coffee incident and Lachlan rolling his hips. My hands wander down from his neck, feeling their way down his chest and toward his crotch, which is straining against the black washed jeans. As I rub my palm against him, he groans and throws his head back, a guttural sound coming from him. I'm so overwhelmed by his punishing lips and the feeling of his dick in his jeans that I jump off the counter when I hear a knock on the door. Lachlan pulls back, rubbing his chin, because in all my gracefulness in jumping off the counter, I managed to clock him in the chin. He's smirking at me like that cat that caught the cream. "Umm.. guys. I'm not sure what you're doing in there, but there's a queue of people who'd really like to pee. So if you could, you know, get out, I might be able to keep my job." I stifle a laugh while Lachlan is still staring at me with a smirk and hunger in his eyes. Reality hits me like a tonne of bricks. This is Lachlan. The guy who ditched me when he found someone cooler. The guy, whose friend, left me one eye short. This childhood crush cannot resurface. Definitely not with adult feelings either. I push him backward, yank the yellow floaty dress Millie sent in over my head and run out of the bathroom. Millie calls after me but I don't bother listening, I run until I'm sure no one will catch up with me, and then I find the nearest fire hydrant to take deep breaths. Once I've finally composed myself after my Usain Bolt impression, I briskly walk home. I take in the autumnal glow of Tara Bay. The leaves started turning a few weeks ago. Pumpkins line people's houses, Halloween decorations on display, each house more decked out than the last. It's taken a long time for me to be able to separate the event from general autumnal glee. Now, I don't mind watching the children play dress up, decorate houses, or even handing out sweets to zombies and witches. I can separate the good from the bad. I still struggle with fireworks. I make sure I'm locked in from 6pm. A shame for any later trick or treaters, but my mental health is more important than giving children their next cavity. One house has fairy lights, shaped like ghosts, the next has a witch, 'flying' on her broom. It's like Christmas but for the macabre.

My keys jingle as I struggle to find the right one. Once I finally wrangle it away from the pack, I open the door and dump my bag just inside and shuffle in. Once the door is closed, I slide down it. I just need a minute. There's a whirlwind of emotions happening right now. Delight at having reconnected with an old friend, well technically old crush, but po-tae-to po-tah-to. Fear, because he was involved in the event that fundamentally changed my life. There's something else there too. I can't quite name it. Once I've managed to compose myself a little, I drag myself into the shower. There's only so much some damp paper towels, blurry vision and terrible lighting can do to clean yourself up. I turn the water on hot, the steam clouding the room. My mirror is fogged up by the time I undress, and open the shower door. I put myself under the stream, trying to dodge my hair. It's not hair wash day, and I'm not messing with the carefully crafted routine. My favourite soap, white peach and vanilla lathers beautifully on my skin, washing off any residual coffee stains. I take care around the crease of my elbow, making sure to avoid the blister. It hurts like a bitch, but I've felt worse. I move my hands down, thoughts moving to Lachlan. His long muscular arms, lifting me up on the counter. My hand inches lower, slowly touching my clit. Picturing the piercing stare just before he came back to my lips, after taking a breath, my speed increases and I start panting. The man had moves, for sure. Far from the boy I grew up with. Far from the boy I secretly loved. My lips still tingles from his punishing kiss. I'm not sure what I expected when I initiated the kiss but I sure as hell didn't think I'd be here now, fingering myself to the memories of a make out session. I'm on the peak, panting, moaning, two fingers deep and rubbing my clit furiously. I think back to the encounter in the library. There was tension there. There always has been. I can feel the knot unfurling in my stomach and it's the image of his forearms, reaching up to grab the book that sends me over the edge. I'm a moaning, soapy mess by the time the orgasm subsides. Except when I turn to grab more soap to start the process again, I see Lachlan, standing in the door of the bathroom, panting, he dick straining against his jeans.