Plain Gold Ring Pt. 02

Misery loves company, etc., and so does Melissa.

In the few relationships she's been in, June's never felt needy before.

Her boyfriends came and went to her liking. She never had to chase them, nor did she ever feel a particular need to drag them back to her. There were times, of course, she panicked when a text didn't come fast enough, or when a boyfriend didn't want to see her on the weekend. But she took it well. She didn't seek them out, didn't beg.

Five days after having sex with John, June's worried. She hasn't heard from him. He doesn't have her number but she's out with the dog multiple times a day. Plus she's taken to bringing a book outside with her; she sits on the stoop, pretending to read as she sneaks peeks at his house.

John is usually home, but he doesn't leave the house. She's too scared to knock on his door. If he wanted to see her, he'd see her, right?

June feels like an idiot by the fifth afternoon, and she also feels tremendously guilty.

Things have been weird with Maggie since that awful morning. Maggie acts the same as always, but June can feel that it's off. She's smiles a little too wide, or leaves the room sooner when June comes in. Sam studies them from time to time, especially during meals, and she knows soon he will come right out and confront the both of them.

Poor Maggie only ever wanted to help June. Her mother would have egged her on, would have told her to go for it, would have given her the worst advice imaginable.

Her aunt is far smarter than her mother. She knows people and she reads them well. She's typically never wrong in her assessments. She was on target with John, with this whole mess.

June peers into her aunt's room. Maggie is rubbing lotion onto her belly. She hears the floorboards creak and looks up. Then she pulls down her shirt and pastes a smile on her face.

"Do you have a minute?" June asks.

"Sure." Maggie beckons her in with her hand. "Sit on the bed with me. I don't feel like getting up for a bit."

"You're really tired, huh?"

Maggie nods and rubs her forehead. "A little, yeah. Pregnancy sucks."

"I wish you found out the gender. I hate not knowing." June sits, staring at Maggie's stomach rather than meeting her eyes.

"Sam is old school. You know that."

June crosses her arms over her body. It's time. "I'm sorry. For being a bitch to you about the whole John thing."

"I know. It's okay." Maggie reaches over and strokes June's hair.

Just like that, she's forgiven. She was probably forgiven as soon as it happened.

Maggie pushes herself off the bed and June watches her fold some clothes.

"You were right."

Maggie stops folding and looks up. June finally meets her eyes, and when she does she can't fight the glossiness of tears. She doesn't want to cry in front of Maggie, and thankfully the tears don't fall; they just remain trapped in her eyes until she blinks them away.

After a few minutes, Maggie comes over and drops down beside her, hugging her as best as she can. She doesn't ask June questions, doesn't call John a hundred names and she doesn't judge.

She holds June tightly for a long time. Eventually Sam knocks on the door. The women separate and think they're sneaky about wiping away a few tears.

"Time for dinner," he announces. "I got pizza."

"Perfect!" Maggie gestures for him to come over and he wordlessly helps her up. "God, I can't wait another three weeks. I can barely get anywhere without you hoisting me around."

Sam laughs and messes with her hair. "I like hoisting you around. Makes me feel manly."

June watches them with a bizarre mixture of envy and love. If anyone deserves such devotion, it's Maggie.

But, June thinks, it would be nice to have someone looking at her like that, too.

A few hours later she feels restless and irritated. Lisa keeps texting her and she decides it couldn't hurt to get a few drinks.

You better come pick me up, she texts. She doesn't trust Lisa.

Surprisingly Lisa pulls up a half hour later.

When June gets into the car, Lisa turns down the booming stereo. "Sup, girl?"

Lisa is a character. She has platinum blonde hair and pale skin. Her eyes are a cool blue that can be startling when she's pissed off and glaring at you. She's a wild spirit, or at least that's what she calls herself. June considers her to be more of a flake than anything else, but the girls have been friends for years. No one gets her like Lisa, except for Maggie.

"What's going on with Mr. Carver?"

"Stop calling him that! It makes it seem so creepy."

Lisa shrugs and drives off. "Last I heard you had amazing sex against his house. You still haven't heard from him?"

"Nope." June turns up the air conditioner just to have something to do. "I'm surprised. I really am. I know it sounds weird but we really connected. I guess I just thought we did."

"No, I bet you did but, like, he's getting a divorce. That's probably affecting shit." She makes a few turns and they pull up at the bar. "Doesn't make the silent treatment okay, though. He should be a man and be upfront about it."

June can't swallow and tears embarrassingly come to her eyes. "I'm worried he regrets it."

"From the way you described it, I can't see how."

"You know what I mean."

Lisa lets out a slow, heavy breath and watches people milling about outside for a few minutes. "Men are weird. They get strange ideas. Maybe he got spooked. We have to remember he's just split with his wife. Heavy stuff, right? Then precious little you comes along," Lisa reaches over to tweak June's nose, which annoys her to no end, "and he can't help himself. He throws all his lust and rage and fury into fucking you. Next morning he wakes up and he's back to responsible, honorable Mr. Carver. I bet he's really embarrassed."

June thinks Lisa's words over for a minute. It seems like a reasonable explanation, though it stings a little that she might have only been a vehicle for his feelings. She wants to believe there was a bit more between them that night.

"Think I should approach him?"

Lisa snaps her head to pin her with an outraged glare. "Hell no! Don't you even dare think about it!"

"But he—"

"Junebug, baby, I love you and I'm sorry to have to tell you this but I don't think you and Mr. Carver are gonna work out."

June doesn't like this answer at all.

Lisa pulls her out of the car and into the bar. They see people they know from time to time. Usually they are friends of Lisa's. June feels sad and uncomfortable. Lisa means well, and she clearly wants June to hook up with someone else, but all June wants is a hot bath and a terrible novel.

Some guy chats her up, asks her about what TV shows she likes to watch. She blames the music for not being able to hear him and slinks away when he goes to order a drink.

When Lisa drops June off, June can barely hide her enthusiasm to be back home.

"Junebug?" Lisa calls.

June jogs back. "Yes?"

"Sorry tonight sucked."

"It was okay," June says, but her voice is shaky.

Lisa smiles. "Right. A regular blast." Then she looks in the direction of John's house and turns back to June with a sad frown. "Sorry it didn't work out."

"Maybe it's for the best." June has always liked that statement. It's a cop out, but she likes it all the same. It hides the resignation of a bad situation with hopeful words.

"You can do a lot better," Lisa insists.

Maybe, June thinks, but she would have loved to settle on John.

A few days after seeing Melissa, John goes to his favorite bar. It's a Tuesday night and he hopes there won't be a lot of people around.

When he walks in and sees only two or three other people there, he breathes a sigh of relief. He sidles up to the bar and sits down. The bartender comes over and John orders the usual.

Tonight he's tempted to drink himself to sleep.

Someone taps him on the shoulder. He breathes out, cursing the world, and then looks next to him.

June stands there wearing a white dress with cherries scattered over it. Her hair is up in a twist, and her lips are ruby red. She's retro and innocent and fucking hot all at once. Seeing her has dragged him from depressed to deeply turned on.

Was the universe kidding? Was she fucking kidding? Fuck, what did John do in another life to deserve this?

He realizes he's ogling her and tries to keep himself focused on her hazel eyes. She isn't smiling. As a matter of fact, she looks anything but happy to see him.

"Hi, John. I saw you come in and thought I should say hello." Her voice is calm and pleasant, in spite of her pinched face.

John clears his throat. "Are you here alone?"

"Nah, I'm with my friends." She gestures to the back corner with her thumb. It's a medium-sized group of men and women. One girl is watching us with narrowed slits.

"Your friend over there looks pissed off."

June doesn't bother glancing over. She must have a hunch as to who it is.

She pulls a twenty out and motions for the bartender. "I haven't seen you lately. I suppose you've taken your beer-drinking inside."

John was never great at this kind of thing. The after-hook-up conversations. He doesn't know what he wants from June; this is a big reason why he's stayed away. That, and Melissa's stupid threats. He knows it probably wouldn't be a big deal if Melissa went around and tried to convince people they had an inappropriate relationship because most of them wouldn't believe it, but he thinks he's being noble by keeping June out of it. It's really only leverage for the divorce anyway, but being seen with her would raise eyebrows as he and Mel settled the divorce.

He wants to say something clever or important or wise. It's been about twelve days since they were together, but it feels like longer. Maybe he should talk about that, talk about what happened. None of his thoughts will settle down long enough for him to speak, however. It's just that she looks so delectable like that. He wants to taste her. This weird fantasy of dropping vanilla ice cream on different parts of her body comes to mind.

"You look really pretty," he manages. It's not adequate or even appropriate considering the circumstances, but she blushes all the same. He forgot about that, though he doesn't know how.

She steals a look at her friends and then locks her eyes with his. "Thank you."

The bartender comes up and June orders two beers. When she has them and her change, she turns to go.

"Do you want to sit down with me?"

June looks confused and irritated. "What?"

"Do you want to talk for a few minutes? I'll buy you a beer."

"I just bought a beer, John."

He rubs his face. Stupid. "Right. Sorry. Well, just to talk, then."

"Talk?" She snorts. "What would we talk about?"

It occurs to him she's swaying a bit. He didn't realize before, but now he knows she's a bit drunk. "June, I know everything's been confusing and I've been shitty about it. Melissa has me by the... She's just making this really hard."

She looks up at the TV. "More than anything I wanna punch her in the face. It would be worth getting sued."

He breathes a laugh. June Silva. What a woman. Under his nose the whole time and he didn't see her. Not really, not the way she was. Just like he missed what Melissa was up to. He'd been blind long enough. He decides it's time to start looking around with clear eyes.

"Sit with me," he almost begs.

June eyes scorch his own. "No."

"I wasn't sure what to do with you. I was confused and not in my right mind. And I felt guilty. You are so young. I'm sorry."

June inhales deeply, then releases it in a drawn-out sigh. "Thank you. I've been wondering what happened."

John takes her hand. She doesn't pull away, which is a good sign. "I'm sorry."

She closes her eyes. "The disappearing act wasn't cool."

"I know. I wish I could do it over."

June bites her lip, attempting to hide a smile. Then her eyes flutter open. "You'd do it the same way."

"What makes you say that?" he asks, extremely curious.

Her hand lifts, then hesitates. She battles over something for a minute, and then her hand runs through his hair and down the side of his face. It lingers near his jaw, but then it's gone and placed back at her side.

She purses her lips and looks around at anything and anyone except him. "We shouldn't have had sex."

John wasn't expecting her to say that. His mouth is probably hanging open. "What?"

"It made things even more confusing than they already are. Don't you think?"

"You regret it?" The idea she might depresses him.

She presses her lips into a line and looks down. "No. It was amazing. But I'm not the one running away from it. It would seem you regret it."

"I don't. Not at all." But truthfully he does. To an extent.

June's eyes roam over his face and read his thoughts. "I should head back to my friends."

"Come over tomorrow."

She shifts on her heels. She wants to; he can see it in her eyes. But she tells him, "No."

"Why not?"

"Things are too fucked up, and it wouldn't look good for you if we're seen together."

"Who cares? No one will be watching." Words, words, words. He wants to kiss her. He's not concerned by rumors, or her friends possibly watching from the corner.

June pops over to give him a quick peck on the lips. "Someone is always watching. See you around, Mr. Carver."

She walks away.

"June," he calls.

She hears him but she doesn't come back. He watches her sit and hand a beer to the friend who still glares at him. She whispers something in the friend's ear, and her friend laughs and laughs.

After a bit John decides it's creepy of him to stare at a group of strangers and settles his tab. It's then that he feels her eyes on him. He wishes she would follow him home, let him inside her. If only he hadn't fucked up. He doesn't know how bad the damage is. She didn't spit or throw her drink at him. She was very mature about the whole thing, actually. His actions might have left a permanent impression, and he hates that. He doesn't know what he wants from her in the future, but he's fairly sure there is something there.

It's really very unfair of him. He doesn't know what he can offer her tomorrow. Tonight he's only able to offer her his body. He knows that wouldn't be enough.

He leaves without looking at her again.

He's just about to put the car in gear when he hears a knock on the passenger door window. June is on the other side, miming for him to unlock the door. Taken aback, he doesn't act right away. When she knocks again, this time impatiently, he unlocks the door and she comes right in.

She tosses him a grin. "Thanks."

"What are you doing?"

"I need a ride home."

He sits there deliberating for a few. "I'm confused."

"Good."

He pulls back to get a good look at her. "Are you fucking with me?"

"Take me home." Her voice is thick and low. He doesn't know if she means to her house or his.

He almost wants to say Your place or mine? as a joke. The last time they met in a bar they used a few pickup lines on each other. He wonders if she would make the connection and appreciate the joke, but perhaps not. Things are fresh between them.

As John drives, he occasionally glances at his passenger. Sometimes she's texting and her face is illuminated by the phone's glow. Other times she watches him. He feels self-conscious, but there is also a weight in her stare that turns him on. He's pretty sure she's watching him, watching his body.

When they pull onto their block, he is a good boy and stops in front of her house.

Then she does something he really isn't expecting. She reaches over to kiss him and grips his cock in her hand.

He wants to push her off—this is very wrong, she's tipsy, he's messed with her emotions enough, people could be watching, this is too risky, dear God it feels good—but his arousal is unbearable and he might cry if the delightful pressure and squeezing of her hand is removed.

He can't even fight her when she unzips his fly and digs into his boxers. She moans under her breath when her bare palm runs over the head of his cock.

"What are you doing?" he gasps.

"Probably making a huge mistake."

"June." His breath twists when she pulls his cock out.

"I want you," she breathes against his cheek. Her breath is hot and damp; his whole body shudders.

She grips him, twisting her hand and milking him with her tight fist. Her palm and fingers are so smooth.

"Someone might see," he whispers. Her motions speed up and he rests his head back with a grunt. "June, I don't want to get you in trouble."

"Me in trouble?"

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. "I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore."

"Good, so stop talking." June leans over his lap before he even knows what's happening and swallows him down in one smooth, wet motion. He can't fight the bellowing shout that erupts from his chest.

She's a bit awkward at first, but then she gets in the groove and there's no stopping her. Her hot, wet mouth is clamped on his cock. He watches her, wishing he could really see her. Her blonde hair occasionally catches the dashboard's light. When she pulls off his dick now and then to catch her breath, he can just make out the shine of her shiny, swollen lips.

He should be doing something for her—rubbing her nipples, her ass, her clit. He wants to make her hot, too. Their positions suck, though, and don't allow it. He knows the gear shift is sticking into her ribs and it must be bordering on painful by now, but she won't be pulled away from her meal.

John's selfish enough to rest back and enjoy it. Her wide tongue licks him up and down and all around, making him slippery and harder than ever. She clutches his balls when she sucks him deeper. She tries bringing him back into her throat but gags.

He puts his hand on her hair to stroke it and she tries again. This time she swallows him deeper. She gags again, but only a little, which serves to bring him that much closer to the edge. The hand on her hair turns into a fist, which has a nice amount of her hair inside it. He pulls her hair a little and she lets out a pleased moan.

Finally June works intently and quickly, dragging him up and down her tongue with more desperation. The head of his cock pushes against her throat and he curses.

She reaches up to take his hand as her other prods below his balls. She moans into his cock and it's over. He crumbles into a jerky release, watching her swallow everything he gives her.

June Silva, the girl next door, just gave him an amazing blowjob. June Silva, with her blonde hair and her freckled shoulder.

June pushes up and rearranges her dress. She yanks down the visor and looks at her self in the mirror. He sees her red lipstick smeared all over her face and his cock jumps once more. She tries to rub it away and then sighs when she still looks like a mess. She moves onto her hair, but he grabs her and pulls her to him.

"That was amazing. Thank you." He puts a hand on each side of her face and kisses her, not minding the faint taste of himself on her tongue. It's a passionate kiss and she's blushing beneath his fingers. When they pull away, she's gasping. He still can't make out much of her face in the light from the dashboard. "Come upstairs with me."

She laughs through her nose. "No."

"Why not?"

"I did what I wanted to."

"You wanted to give me a blowjob?"

"That was part of it."

She straightens out her dress and gathers up her purse and phone.

"What was the other part of it?"

June looks at him and he can make out her big grin. "I like seeing you lose control."

She opens the car door but he holds onto her shoulder. "Don't you want me to... take care of you?"