Southern Summer

Apologies

    “Try not to leave these out in the road this time, Cass.” Brooks smirks, and hands her the flowers. He steps in the door and closes it behind him. She would like to toss him and his flowers out right about now.

    “I'm so glad I made it before you changed. That color on your skin is breathtaking,” He moves closer to her, looking her up and down, but she pulls away rolling her eyes. She walks into the kitchen to get another vase from under the kitchen cabinet for the second arrangement. Brooks sits at the small table, in the only chair, watching her.

    She feels his stare as she fills the blue vase she got from an antique store on one of their road trips. She thinks about how much fun they had and stops herself before she gets upset. Again. She sets the flowers next to the ones from this morning and looks him in the eye.

    “So what do you want to talk about,” she says, throwing her hands up. “I need to be going to bed, my flight is leaving very early.” Getting up at 5 a.m. was sounding worse and worse.

    “I just wanted one more night of how it used to be. In our old place, just me and you,” he stands and walks over to Cassandra, leaning against the counter. “I keep thinking about how it's never going to be the same again. It hurts, Cass. Like hell.”

    “Oh? You want to talk about hurt?” She crosses her arms, and looks at him with piercing eyes, her pain now melting into rage. “How about refusing to talk to me, that hurt. Or falling through the door, hammered, at all times of the night – and morning – coming in from God knows where? That s**t hurt. And lastly, how the hell do you think I felt when you chose giving up everything I thought we were, our relationship and our future, not even considering my happiness what so ever, and walking out? Yeah, poor you.” 

    Cassandra fights back the tears that want to flow so badly like they always do when she's angry. 

    Brooks, visibly hurt, grabs her hands and looks up at her longingly.

    “I'm sorry, really. I shouldn't have done this to you. I shouldn't have acted like that. But, uprooting our lives was never something I imagined, or wanted. And it still isn't,” his hands moved to her face and before she could react, they were kissing. 

    Cassandra pulls away, the anger flaring her eyes. She couldn't deny what she was really feeling, though. The feeling of being close to him again was something she had missed too much. It had been so long since they were this close to each other, and she couldn't even remember the last time they had kissed. She knew what her body wanted, and before she knew it, she found his lips again. The kiss was deep, and painful. Not physically, but emotionally. Her mind was telling her to smack the hell out of him, but instead she found her hands unbuttoning his shirt. And his belt. 

    Brook's hands skimmed down along her curves, catching the hem of her dress, and quickly sliding it up and off of her body, it landing on the floor. He moves his hands back down and under her ass, picking her up and sitting her on the counter top. She wrapped her legs around his waist, as he reached around her, unclasping her white lacy bra and letting it fall off of her breasts gracefully. His lips moved down her neck, slowly trailing kisses down to her shoulder as he cupped her left breast with his hand.

    “We shouldn't be doing this,” Cassandra says breathlessly.

    "I know," Brooks looks up at her with hungry eyes. "Do you want to stop?"

    She thinks for a brief second. No. Definitely not. She pulls his face up to hers and kisses him again, deeply, pulling at his bottom lip lightly. Her hands move across his broad shoulders and down his muscular back, then lightly she drags her hands back up, letting her nails graze his skin. Brooks breathes in heavily, his hands, now on her legs, squeezes her bare thighs. The feeling sends a shiver down her spine.

     She runs her hands up his neck and into his soft, brown hair. She catches a whiff of his musky cologne, the one he's worn for years, the one she knows and loves. It's always smelled so nice on him, but tonight, it makes her ache for him. She sighs deeply, gently grinding her hips into him.

    Before she knows it, he picks her up, carrying her. She can feel him between her legs as she holds on tighter. He carries her down the hall and into their old bedroom.