In Our Bones

"I'm Jamison—Jamie."

"I don't take drinks from strangers."

"I just introduced myself," he said, grinning.

"You don't know me," I pointed.

"Of course I do," he contradicted. "You're Juno. Maid of Honor, right? So here, we're not strangers; bottoms up."

I took the glass from him. "I'm not going to sleep with you," I said before downing the drink.

I gave my Maid of Honor speech a little tipsy. I told everyone cute stories about Kansas and cuter stories about Kansas and Booker's love story.

Jamie handed me another drink after I was done with my speech. It was the fourth drink he was handing me that night. If I was in any right state of mind, I would've refused and told him to fuck off, but my brain was buzzing and I was lonely and it felt like a good idea at the time. Another shot of tequila. Fuck it.

"That's enough," said a voice when I approached the bar. I was about to order my fifth shot. I turned around, coming face to face with Booker. He didn't look amused.

"You're not my dad," I said before I could stop myself. That stung, probably for the both of us.

"She'll have water," Booker told the bartender.

"Booker, you can't just barge into my business like this," I complained, slurring my words.

"Listen, you don't want to get involved with Jamie," Booker said. "He's bad news."

"I wasn't planning on getting involved with anyone," I said, feeling insulted and maybe a little too drunk. "Do you think I'm some kind of whore? That the first guy who shows me some kind of attention immediately gets a one-way ticket into my pussy?"

He looked surprised and hurt. "June, you know that's not what I meant..."

"Fuck you, Booker."

I walked away from him and straight to Jamie, who was dancing with some girl, took his face in my hands, pulling it down and kissing him right there in the middle of the dance floor. Jamie put his hands on my waist, forgetting the girl he was dancing with, making her mutter something along the lines of "slut... bastard" and stomping off.

We didn't care.

Jamie kissed me under the twinkling lights, the scent of gardenias heady around us, the air in my chest tight as he stole my breath. He kissed me like he understood just how lonely and fucked-up I was, like he knew that I needed this, like he was volunteering to save me. I opened my mouth, tasting the alcohol, my tongue sliding along his. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he kissed me so enthusiastically that he lifted me right off the floor. I smiled against his lips and he smiled against mine and I knew then that he wasn't bad news at all; he was just news, the next breaking story in my life.

When I pulled back, I looked at Jamie, really looked at him, and found that he was actually really handsome; blond hair, slightly pink cheeks and swollen lips from the kissing, a hella nice straight nose, and sparkling blue eyes. His body was pretty nice too, considering how good he looked in a well-tailored suit. All in all, it made sense that the other girl had thrown a hissy fit when I stole her dance partner to stick my tongue down his throat; he was a fucking catch!

I looked around the room for Kansas, hoping I could locate her so I could tell her about the hot guy I was definitely going to be sleeping with despite my telling him the opposite—when I caught sight of Booker at the bar. He was staring at us, his mouth parted, eyes dark and blazing. He looked almost... angry. What the fuck was his problem?

"Come on," I said, taking Jamie by the tie to lead him away from the dance floor.

"Where are we going?"

"To book a hotel room."

He laughed. "I'm really flattered, but I don't think we should."

That stopped me mid-step. My eyes snapped to his face.

"Why not?" I asked, feeling insulted for the second time that night. What was it with guys? Did they just exist to piss me off?

"Because you're drunk, Juno," Jamie said, and I felt some of my anger deflate. "I won't take advantage of you."

"You're not taking advantage of me," I corrected. "I'm taking advantage of you, okay? So let's go."

Jamie looked impossibly amused. "Alright, whatever you say," and he was patient as I led him around the venue to find Kansas to say goodbye. After ten minutes of looking and no luck, I decided to try the women's restroom.

"Wait here," I said, pressing a kiss to Jamie's lips. "I'll be right back."

I pushed the door open to the restroom and stepped inside. It looked empty, but I could hear some sniffling. I was not ashamed to bend down and look under the stalls. In the last stall, I found silver shoes and the white train of a wedding dress. It was Kansas.

I walked up to the door and rapped my knuckles against it.

"Occupied," Kansas mumbled.

"Kansas, it's me," I said gently. "Open up, babe."

There was a moment of hesitation, as if she wasn't sure if she wanted to see me at all. It was another few seconds before she unlatched the door and stepped out.

"I can't let anybody see me like this," she said, walking up to the mirror. Mascara had streaked down her cheeks and her lipstick was smeared. I walked back to the entrance of the restroom and turned the lock. No one was getting into this restroom. Too bad for the ladies that would be drinking too much tonight. They'd have to use the men's restroom if they were really desperate.

I went and hugged Kansas. "Now tell me what's wrong," I murmured into her hair.

"During our first dance, he said something about marrying his first kiss, so obviously I had to one-up him and say that I was marrying my only kiss."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"He tensed up when I said that, Juno. I knew it right then that there was something he wasn't telling me. That's when he admitted that he'd kissed another girl when we'd broken up for like a day back in high school."

Adrenaline coursed through my veins. It was fear that struck me like lightning at that moment.

"That-That doesn't mean anything, right?" I asked shakily.

"No, I don't care about some kiss from when we were teenagers. What I cared about was that when he said he'd had feelings for this other girl at the time, I asked if he still had feelings for her and he just tensed up again. He didn't answer me, Juno."

"That still doesn't mean anything. He never said that he—"

"God, I know! I'm just so stressed from the wedding and just the thought that he might have feelings for anyone else just kills me!" she sobbed.

How could Booker have told her about the kiss? Had he lost his fucking mind?

"Go back in the stall. I'll take care of this," I said, and before Kansas could even ask what I was doing, I unlocked the bathroom door and strode right past a confused-looking Jamie. I put up a hand to silence him and went stalking through the venue.

Booker was still at the bar, nursing a glass of amber liquid, probably whiskey. I walked up to him and tapped his shoulder. When he turned around, I punched him square in the jaw.

The room became eerily quiet. The music stopped. Everything just... halted.

"Juno," said a soft voice after a minute. I felt an arm come around my shoulder and lead me away. It was my sister. She wasn't angry; she wasn't even confused. My sister knew me well. I wouldn't do something like this without a good reason.

"Wait," Booker said, taking a step toward us.

"Don't," Aspen said sharply. She'd never used that tone with Booker before. It was enough to stop him in his tracks.

"Go find your wife," was all I said before Aspen whisked me away, taking me straight out of the venue and to the parking lot. Our breaths came out in mists. It was sudden, this kind of cold, but what could you expect at this elevation? We were at Big Bear Mountain for the wedding.

Aspen dug around in her purse and produced a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

"You smoke?" I asked, shocked.

Aspen shrugged. "Sometimes. When I'm stressed."

What did a world-renown classical pianist have to worry about? Everyone practically worshipped her. She was as perfect as a person could get.

"Bum me one," I said, and Aspen passed me a cigarette and the lighter. I lit up and took in a disgusting drag. I hated it, hated how it tasted, but the nicotine hit my senses like a truck, immediately calming me. I sighed.

"Feeling okay?" Aspen asked.

It was my turn to shrug.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really." But that wasn't true. How could I keep this secret bottled up inside of me?

"Juno..." Aspen said, reading the hesitation in my expression.

"Okay, fine. I do want to talk about it."

And I spilled the beans. I told her every last thing, from the kiss in the college parking lot to the events of the wedding night in the ladies restroom.

"Well, I can't say I'm surprised," Aspen said, sighing.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you dense? Booker's been in love with you since you were in a training bra! Have you seen the way that he looks at you?"

I felt extremely uncomfortable. "He doesn't—"

"I'm sorry," said a masculine voice from behind us. I whipped my head around and found Booker standing there with his hands in his pockets. He looked lost, like he'd taken a wrong turn in his life somewhere miles ago, and now he didn't know how to make his way back home. I could see the glistening wetness of tears in his honeyed eyes; still golden like a tiger's even in the night, glowing like two miniature suns.

"You should be apologizing to your wife," Aspen said coldly.

"I tried. She won't talk to me. I came to see if June would help me. I can't do this alone—I can't do any of this alone. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know the first thing about being a husband."

"And I do?" I scoffed.

"No, but you do know Kansas. You're the best expert on Kansas in this entire universe. You understand her on a level I could never hope to. I need your help, June. I'm sorry for everything. I never meant for her to find out. I want our marriage to work. I won't throw that away for..."

"For some cheap kiss six years ago," I finished for him. He flinched.

"June," Aspen said, gently putting a hand on my arm. "Give him a chance. Don't be so harsh."

Aspen was right, of course, but it was hard to swallow down the anger I felt towards Booker. We could have all had a beautiful friendship, but he just had to fuck it up. I knew what I had to do.

I was shaking when I opened the door to the women's restroom. It was mostly empty, save for a pair of silver shoes and the train of a wedding dress in the last stall.

Kansas.

"It's me," I said, and a moment later the lock was unlatched and Kansas was throwing her arms around me, flying into my arms like a bird of prey in the night. I felt like a little field mouse, ten seconds from being devoured. I had to tell her the truth.

"I was the person he kissed," I admitted. "Six years ago, it was me. I should have told you."

Kansas pulled back from our embrace, immediately putting distance between us, stumbling back. I tried to steady her by reaching for her hand, but she jerked it back, her eyes wide, brimming with tears.

"Don't touch me," she whispered.

"Kansas, please..."

"How could you keep that from me?" she asked sharply. "I thought... I thought you were my friend, Juno. I treated you like my sister."

My eyes brimmed with tears. "I'm sorry. I knew you loved him, and I didn't want to get between you two. I-I thought—"

"Well, you thought wrong."

"I'm sorry," I sobbed. "Kansas, please forgive me."

Her eyes softened. "I'm not going to forgive you. I don't need to. There's nothing to forgive. It wasn't your fault that he kissed you, and it's not your fault that he had or has feelings for you—"

"He doesn't, Kansas—"

"Shut up, Juno. I... I always knew he liked you. I was selfish, okay? I wanted him for myself because I loved him."

"He's yours," I said. "I never wanted him, Kansas. He's always been yours."

She wiped her tears, sniffling. "We don't know that."

"He married you. He loves you."

Kansas grabbed my arm, tugging me into her arms. She cried into my shoulder.

"What do I do, Juno?" she asked as she wept.

"Go back out there and get your man."

She pulled back. "You think I should?"

"I know you should."

When Kansas and I stepped out of the restroom, we found two men standing there waiting for us. One was Jamie, standing a little in the shadows, waiting patiently even though I'd probably ruined the mood for any sex tonight, and the other was Booker, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he stood there, looking hopeful when he saw Kansas exit the restroom. It was tense for a moment, and then Kansas ran into his arms. He hugged her tight, burrowing his face into the crook of her neck.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he was whispering.

"Shh," Kansas said. "We'll be late."

"For what?"

"Our honeymoon."

Many of the wedding guests had left, save for some family. We all saw Booker and Kansas off as they got into their limo and drove off for the airport.

"I love you guys," I whispered into the night air long after they'd gone.

I walked back into the venue and found Jamie by the bar, chatting up the bartender, making him laugh hard enough that he made Jamie drinks even though it was well after closing.

"Here," Jamie said, passing me a glass of what looked to be Jack and Coke. I sipped it slowly, enjoying the slight burn of the alcohol, something I'd hated when I'd first started drinking back at high school parties.

"What do you say we get out of here?" he asked after I'd finished my drink.

I needed something to squash out the stress, and meaningless sex seemed like a good contender. I took Jamie's hand and he led me away from the bar, out of the venue, and to his car out in the parking lot. It was a black Jeep Wrangler with the soft top on. Jamie helped me climb into the passenger seat and then rounded the car to get into the driver's seat. The car started up with a rumble and a roar. We buckled in, and just like that, we drove away, as if nothing substantial had happened there in those mountains.

But everything had changed.

—

I woke to the feeling of a hand in my panties. I moaned, stretching out like a cat, and opened my eyes to find a sleepy-eyed Jamie smiling down at me. He had one arm wrapped around me, and the other hand was being used to gently finger me, playing with my little nub to get me wet.

"You're insatiable," I mumbled. Even now, after six months of dating, he was still very handsy and a total horndog. Not that I was complaining.

"You're so sexy," he whispered in my ear, two fingers dipping into my pussy. The heat enveloped his fingers, and pink clouds seemed to bloom on his skin as his cheeks reddened, rendering him defenseless. I kissed his cheeks, kissed along the light stubble of his jaw, and kissed him on the mouth, tasting the whiskey on his tongue. He was always drinking, and since meeting him, so was I. It turned out that Booker had been right: Jamie was bad news, but I didn't mind as much as I should've; after all the loneliness, I'd settle for any news.

It had all started when Dad had died, and as Kansas and Booker had grown closer and closer, I'd felt the distance rise as vast as an ocean, as if I was the only one left in the friendship. Now they were married, living together somewhere downtown, and I was still here, living in a run-down apartment in the suburbs working my job at the hospital as a psychiatric technician, I felt even lonelier. I had no one but Jamie, and I wasn't sure how good of a thing that was yet.

"Shh," Jamie whispered when he heard me sniffle. "Don't tell me I'm that bad at making you come."

I laughed, wiping my eyes. "You're an idiot, Jamison Don Bentley."

"Hey, only my mother calls me that," he said, grinning. "And only when she's mad. Are you my mother? And are you mad?"

"I'm not your mother, but I am pretty crazy."

"That wasn't the kind of mad I was talking about," he said, amused.

"I know," I said, giggling.

"Minx," he murmured, curving his fingers inside of me. I let out a little gasp as he began to fuck me with his fingers, slow and sweet at first, letting me slowly rise to an orgasm in a sluggish crawl, and then he was whispering dirty things into my ear as he quickened the pace. I felt dizzy with desire, my hips rising off the bed as I got closer and closer, color bursting in my eyes, sparks igniting, and then he found the place that made me squirt. I cried out as he prolonged it, not stopping even when I begged him to.

And then I was coming.

"God, Jamie," I gasped when I'd come down from the high. "You're going to kill me."

"I'm not done with you yet," he said, untangling himself from me. He was already naked, the sheet falling off of his hard, muscular body. I stared shamelessly as he grabbed my hips and flipped me around.

"Plank," he ordered, and I did, dropping down in prone position. It was a favorite for the both of us; a tight squeeze for him, and an instant thrust to the g-spot for me.

I felt the heat coiling in my belly before he even entered me. "Jamie," I moaned when I felt the thick tip of his cock slide against my sticky fluids, lubing up before penetrating my—oh god...

I couldn't think; I couldn't breathe.

All I could do was feel. I felt the tenderness in his movements at first, the affection almost sympathetic, like he felt sorry for me because of how broken and fucked-up I was, but then he seemed to change his mind, wrapped an arm around me to help me lift my ass at just the right angle.

"Oh," I managed to say right before he began to pound into me. "Oh, fuck!"

Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes; the pleasure was almost implausible, like there was no way feelings like these could be allowed to exist. I gripped the sheets, screaming as he fucked me raw, his cock rutting into my poor tiny little pussy which was, by now, flooding with my slick juices.

I was squirting; I was coming undone; I was on cloud nine; I was destroyed; I was everything; I was nothing.

Golden eyes flashed in my mind, the eyes of a tiger, making my insides twist as I began to come. It was earth-shattering, taking me completely by surprise, making me sob as Jamie fucked me through my orgasm. He grunted a moment later, his cock jerking inside of me as he came, his cum pouring into the tight, hot walls of my pussy.

He fell onto the bed beside me, and I turned immediately to look into his eyes.

They were blue.

—

"The communists are holding me here against my will!"

"Oh, jeez, Barbara," I grumbled, sprinting down the hall, scanning my badge to get back into the psychiatric ward. The doors opened, and I dashed past the nurse's station.

"I was just about to page you!" said Elspeth, a nurse.

"The communists are holding me here against my will!" Barbara was shouting at the top of her lungs. Two other technicians were already walking her into a corner so they could subdue her. She was always like this when she had one of her episodes. A nurse was walking over with a syringe, flicking the needle to keep from causing an air embolic stroke, filled with Haloperidol, and met my eye as I joined the other two technicians.

I signaled them all back and approached Barbara cautiously. "Barbara, honey? What's the matter?"

"The communists are holding me here against my will," she said, but she wasn't shouting anymore. Barbara and I had an understanding: screaming means no extra pudding cups for Movie Monday. Now that I was here, she had to watch her behavior.

"It's just us here, Barbara," I said softly. "And we're going to go outside, okay? Let's go take a walk."