Leave the Night On Pt. 04

Suddenly, Julian grabs me by my elbows and lifts me to my feet. He spins us around so that, once again, I'm a prisoner between the hardness of his body and the wall. His chest is heaving, his breath coming out too fast, too short. He takes my face in both his hands. His touch is rough, fingertips digging into the hollows in my cheeks, pressing against the lumps of teeth that are covered by skin and flesh.

My heart is thundering, rebelling against my ribcage. I wait for him to say something. Anything. I stare into the fathomless blackness of his eyes, feel the warmth of his quick exhales brush my parted mouth.

In his face is lust, raw and unaltered. He looks almost savage, pupils wide and so, so dark. There's a starless night inside his eyes. He searches my face, gaze dancing between my eyes, over my mouth, down my chin. And he stops there.

His eyebrows bunch together, the press of his fingers almost hurt. He tilts my head to the side and licks a line from my chin to my lips, tasting himself on me. I utter a small, tight moan and he does it again. And this time, when he reaches my lips, my mouth is open for him.

He growls into me, kissing me like he's been starving for me. His tongue goes deep, searching, taking, tasting. I can't tell each one of us he can taste better. I can't breathe. I can't think. I can only be the vessel in which he pours a passion bordering on desperation. I hear myself whimpering in protest when he pulls away. It's only a little but it's too much.

"I love your mouth," he breathes, then kisses me again. "You could rule my whole fucking world with this mouth of yours, my Pearl. And I love it. I love it."

His kisses are punctuations.

I love it.

His tongue dances alongside mine.

Your mouth.

And his hands keep me tied to him.

I love...

He sucks on my lip.

I love...your

I start to cling to that word. That one verb. But he's kissing me again, so I can't think of anything but his lips crushing mine, and his body fitting into the soft spots in mine.

I'm feeling the same thing. That same verb. About his mouth, too. About his hands and his lips. About his arms and his face. About his words and his smiles. About his whole body. About his whole self.

I lose my grip on my emotions and I fall.

I'm lost and surrendered

and

I'm completely, thoroughly in love with him.

And I'm terrified of it.

"Julian..."

"Mmm."

I...

"Fuck me."

His teeth on my jaw are the tell of his smile. He loves it when I ask him to fuck me. As if he didn't already know I want him to fuck me all the time. Constantly. Because there's never enough of him for me.

And he knows it.

So he does it.

***

JULIAN

I PARK THE TRUCK in front of the Cohen's house, swallowing down the knot of worry lodged in my throat.

"Okay, Han. Here we are." I catch my daughter's eyes in the rearview mirror. "You ready?"

"Yes," she answers me distractedly, her eyes are out the window, fixed to her friend's front door.

Hannah is having her first sleepover ever. She's been talking about this night this entire week and I've been stressing out about it. Apart from the nights she spends at Umma's and Karen's, Hannah has never spent an entire night in an unknown room. I'm thrilled she's found a friend she likes enough to consider leaving her comfort zone for. And yet, I can't shake off the worry.

"You sure you'll be okay?" I ask her one more time just to be sure.

I catch a glimpse of a small roll of eyes. It is a free sample of all the eye rolling puberty will bring forth. "I will be okay, Daddy," she says, finding my eyes in the mirror. "Olivia is my best friend."

"Okay. Okay," I concede. "Let's go."

We walk up to the door and I make her repeat the rules for tonight.

"If anything happens, or if I feel like going home," Hannah starts slowly, "I can ask Dr. Cohen to call you."

"Right. What else?" I prompt.

"If Dr. Cohen can't reach you, I can ask him to call Mommy."

"And if you can't reach Mommy?"

She lets out a small puff of annoyed air.

"Hannah," I say her name with a flat, low voice. A trick I learned from my own mother.

Hannah's eyes regard me from under her eyelashes. She's still too young to know how to conceal her annoyance. "If I can't talk to Mommy, then I ask Dr. Cohen to call Halmoni."

"Good," I say, crouching down to her level. "Now, give us a hug."

She throws her little arms around my neck, allowing me a brief moment to protect her with my body. If I could, I'd shield her forever. But I know I can 't. I know I shouldn't.

"You smell good, Daddy," she says, pulling away. Her eyes stay on my face, curious and sharp. She looks so much like her grandmother she earns a smile from me.

"I'm glad you like how I smell, Han."

She crosses her arms over her little chest. "Where are you going tonight, Daddy?"

A ball of laughter bubbles up to the surface. "I've told you, little thing. I'm having dinner with a friend."

She doesn't know it yet, but her little eyes narrow when she thinks I'm lying to her. "You don't have friends, Daddy," she says.

I draw back.

I open my mouth to contest her, but she's right. She's all there is now. All my time. All my life.

Even in the broad sense of the word, I don't really have friends anymore. I have a good relationship with Karen. She's the person who listens to my dramas when I'm hit with an urge to share them, but I don't have anyone to go out with. Someone to share a beer with. Someone who I can talk to and relax a little, except...for Pearl.

"I have you," I tell my daughter. "You are my best friend."

"Olivia is my best friend now, Daddy," Hannah informs me, as matter-of-factly as someone her age can manage. "You need a new best friend, too."

"Okay," I indulge her. "Can you find me a new best friend?"

She tilts her head to the side, considering. I notice her mouth, a little broader than my own, the lips fuller, the bow deeper. It's her mother's mouth.

"Miss Jones could be your best friend," Hannah declares, eyes growing wide and brighter. "She's nice."

My mouth stretches so widely, my lips hurt "Tell you what. Next time I see Miss Jones, I'll ask her if she wants to be my best friend. What do you think?"

She whips her chin. "Good idea."

I'm still smiling when Dr. Cohen opens the door.

***

PEARL

WHEN THE DOORBELL SOUNDS, Lil and Cami are set into motion. My friends spring to the door almost stumbling on their own feet to receive our dinner guest. As for me, my standard Friday night nervousness sizzles up my legs and arms, pinning down to the ground.

I run clammy hands down the skirt I purposely chose for tonight, arranging the pleated chiffon nice and loose around my hips and thighs. Julian likes me in skirts. It offers few impediments to his roaming hands.

Cami yanks the door open. On the back of her head I picture the brilliant grin I know she's wearing on her front. "Hello, handsome," she greets Julian at the same time Lil says, "We're so glad you came!"

Julian stands before the girls windblown by their reception. His expression sways from sheer stupefaction to delightedly surprised. "I was glad to be invited," he says, breaking into a smile I'm relieved to recognize as genuine.

"I know, right!" Cami exclaims. "Pearl is so rude. She uses you for her pleasure and kicks you out before we're even awake to say good morning."

"I'm not big on sharing," I interfere with their reception party from a few feet away.

Still at the threshold, Julian throws me a smirk over the girls' shoulders. Our eyes linger on each other and a bolt of lightning strikes through me, igniting all that nervous energy coiled in my gut.

"Hey," he says softly.

My chest rises slowly and trembly. "Hey."

"We're so happy to have you here again," Lil says, ushering Julian in.

He steps inside my home as if this is the first time he's really here, now that his presence is not contained to my room. "I hope you girls are thirsty." He holds up a bottle of wine in one hand.

Cami accepts the gift from him as fast as he's offered it. "Oh, you shouldn't have bothered," she sings, trying to sound truthful about her act. She hates an empty-handed guess. "Oh Pearly, look!" She holds the wine bottle high, turning the familiar label so I can read it. "It's Papi's wine!"

"It's Pearl's favorite," Lil remarks proudly.

Cami winks at her. "He knows what she likes."

"Papi's wine?" Julian asks, frowning from the girls to me.

"Pearl's Daddy makes this," Cami clarifies.

Julian's thick eyebrows rise up. He searches my face with open curiosity. "Really?"

"Really," I confess, bashfully.

"It's even named after her!" Cami thrusts the bottle into Julian's face. "See here? It's calledPerla."

I aim a warning glance at Camille. I made her promise to behave tonight and she's breaking her word already.

Julian's frown deepens as he studies the bottle in Cami's hand. The inquisitive shadow taking over him elongates enough that it reaches me and I see myself through his eyes. I imagine he's thinking the same things I'd been wondering just a few days ago; that there are so many layers we're still to peel off each other. We've barely begun to scratch the surface, and yet, I'm already in deep.

"Here, let me take your jacket," Lil offers, bringing Julian's attention to herself. From out of nowhere, Mal materializes zigzagging between her legs. "Hey, Mal. Look who's here."

"How's he doing?" Julian asks, shaking off his jacket.

Lil's face melts, going all soft and stupid at his concern for her cat's well-being. "He's great. Thanks."

"You saved our baby's life, Dr. Dreamy," Cami says.

"You really did help him," Lil agrees.

The girls are crowding Julian already. He's casting pleading, bashful looks in my direction. Even though I should go save him from them I stay still, set in place, watching his cheeks tint red under the overwhelming weight of my roommate's attention.

"Come have a seat!" Lil invites him to step further into our home and Cami remembers she's supposed to be good tonight. "What's your poison? We have it all."

They start my way, my friends going past me straight into the kitchen area. Julian stalks right for me as he answers, "Whatever you girls are having."

"That would be the same Merlot you brought," I say, finding my voice scratchy. "We've already dried one." I bounce on my heels, clasping my fidgety fingers behind my back. "How are you?" I say, stiffly and stupidly.

Julian's lips twitch. My nervous energy is nothing new to him, by this point. "Now I'm good. You?"

"Good, too."

His mouth curves into the bright crooked thing that uncoils the tense strings in my belly. I can already tell he plans to have fun with this dinner. "Hello, My Pearl." He stops so near me that I'm able to soak up on his crisp, clean smell.

"Hello, Mr. Song," I murmur and I want to kiss him.

I think I'm going to, even as I'm worrying this might come off as too intimate, like this is more serious than a fling, because we're in my house about to have dinner with my best friends in the world.

Julian's gaze wandering over my lips dismantles the threads of my overthinking. My anxiousness fades away when his fingers brush my jaw and tilt my chin up. He presses a tender kiss to my cheek and it propels me to stand on my tiptoes. My arms curl around his neck, my chest pressing warm and soft against the hardness of his body.

It's so natural to sink into his embrace. My body seeks his warmth and goes pliant, luxuriating on the security of his arms around my waist. "Relax," he whispers into my ear. "I promise to be a good boy tonight."

"It's not you I'm worried about," I say against his neck.

His soft chuckle tickles me just a throat clears behind us. "You kids don't have to rub the love under our noses, you know?"

The soles of my feet hit the warm hardwood floor again and I come back down to earth. "Shut up, Camille," I say to my friend, not daring to remove my eyes from Julian's smirking face.

Good host that she is, Lil urges us all to take a seat at the table. I do the honors and uncork open the wine with a pop. I let it breathe for a moment before serving everyone a glass. Aware of Julian's gaze on the side of my face, I swirl the burgundy liquid in my glass and inhale the aromas that transport me home.

The fermentation and tangy, nose pickling alcohol combine to create a nostalgia that burns my eyes. To evade it, I lift my glass and clank a fork against it. "A toast!" I announce. "To you, lovely people I adore."

"To finally having our Pearly home on a Friday night again!" Cami jokes. "Salut!"

"Salut!" We all chant. Our glasses meet and tinkling echoes around the loft. I take a sip of my wine and a tang of longing pulls at my ribs. A yearning for home, for family.

I startle when Julian's warm lips touch my temple. I regard him with big, incredulous eyes. We've never been together together around other people. Contrastingly, it surprises me, at the same time it doesn't, that he should be so affectionate when we are not alone. Particularly considering this thing we have is...I don't know. Undefined? Casual suddenly doesn't seem like the right word anymore. This easiness isn't concordant with the word casual. Casual implies there are no feelings involved.

"Is this really made by your family?" Julian asks, indicating his wine glass.

"Yeah," I say, revealing a little more of my life outside our private world. "My Dad. Stepdad, actually," I correct myself even as it feels wrong to do it. "He's an enologist."

"Papi," Cami offers intrusively with hearts in her eyes.

"That's...interesting." Julian takes another sip of his drink, smacking his lips in appreciation. He takes the bottle to read the label closer. "Argentina?"

I nod. "It's where I spent my pre-teens and suffering adolescent years."

"Wow." His eyes fill up with wonder. He seems understandably surprised, but also a little...thrown.

"She's mysterious, our Pearl," Cami says.

"She knows all about wine," Lil tells Julian. "Just ask her anything and she'll start you on the different types of grapes and fermentation methods until you feel uncultured."

He glances at me, his expression both unreadable and questioning. "You're always a surprise."

From my peripheral vision, I can sense the girls can't wipe the smugness off their faces. Seated next to each other, across from Julian and me, Cami and Lil have the perfect view of my obvious smitten and blushing face.

"I'm starving,' I blurt, averting my eyes to face my roommates. "Let's eat this food we didn't cook."

"It looks amazing," Julian says politely.

"We cooked nothing," I say, "None of us know the first thing about cooking."

"Hey! I can make pretty decent pancakes!" Lil protests. "And boil an egg."

"I actually washed the salad," I say in self-defense.

"I ordered the food from the best restaurant in town," Cami interjects.

"I set the table," Lil offers.

Julian chuckles a sound that only I identify as embarrassed. He's not embarrassed because of us, but because we went to the trouble for him. It's a rare modesty I've never seen him display when it's only the two of us. "Everything looks really good. Thank you for all your individual efforts."

"Awn!" Cami beams at him. "Aren't you sweet."

Dinner is simple. Salad. Bread. Rosemary and olive oil roasted chicken with russet potatoes. However, it is an expensive chicken from Camille's favorite restaurant where we eat once a year. I could buy myself a whole coop full of hens with the money she spent on this roast. And I'm silently and profoundly grateful she went through the trouble for Julian. All because she knows how much he means to me.

Cami, Lil and me all hold out breaths in anticipation of Julian's first bite. We follow his fork as it disappears inside his mouth. My stomach clenches, waiting for the delectable humming he releases. He closes his eyes for the briefest second then lets out a long, low sound that translates into pleasure. He hums that sound when he tastes me, too.

I lay an intimate hand on his arm. "Good, uh?"

"Good," he slurs.

Lil catches my eyes, mouth shaping an Oh My God. I read her meaning, and understanding her approval unknots some of the tension I didn't know I was tangled in. I desperately want these people to like each other.

We have barely settled into eating when the girls strike again. "So, Julian," Cami starts. "I don't know if she's told you, but Pearl's ours next Friday."

"She mentioned you girls having a special annual dinner," Julian tells her.

"I spent the American holiday in France with my French-American parents."

"She's such a bourgeois princess," Lil says.

"Isn't she indeed," I agree.

Cami points her fork at us. "No Chanel for you two this year," she threatens. "Anyway, Dr. Dreamy. I'm torn between two nations"

"I can relate to that," Julian says. "We always spent New Year's Eve in Korea with my twin brother."

I perk up at that. "Really?"

He glances to his side, smiling down at me. "Yeah. In Seoul. We usually go right after Christmas and stay a whole week."

"That must be something," I say. In truth, I'm imagining a whole week without seeing him and I find nothing good about it.

"Wait a minute." Lil dramatically throws her napkin on the table. "You're a twin?"

Julian breaks into a small, sly grin. "17 minutes younger."

"Oh, My God! There are two of you in the world?!" Cami shrieks.

"I said the same exact thing!" I say, bouncing out of my chair to meet Cami's hand for a high give across the dining table.

Lil shakes her disbelieving head of glossy red hair. "Oh My God. What's his name? Is he single?"

I give my first roll of eyes tonight. "Seriously, Liliane."

Julian chuckles shyly. "His name is Henry. And he's married."

"Aw! Bummer."

"Anyway," I begin, conspicuously sliding the Merlot bottle closer to me and farther away from Lil. "New Year in Korea must be amazing!"

"It is," Julian continues. "Hannah loves it and it is a time I can be sure to see my brother."

"Oh, Hannah!" Cami perks up. "She's a little bad ass, isn't she? Kicking bully's' asses."

"How's she?" Lil asks, sipping water for a change.

At the mention of his daughter, Julian's face suddenly reflects all the light in the room. "She's great. She's really good. She's having her first sleepover tonight."

"Oh right! That's tonight?!" I remember Hannah mentioning it and Julian worrying about it this past week. "How was she when you dropped her off? Was she nervous?"

He doesn't have time to answer me because Lil hits him with another question. "Do you think of having more kids?"

My eyes bug out and almost fall into my plate. She seems to realize she's said something stupid because her freckled face slowly reddens to a pepper.

Shut up, I mouth to her.

"Uh." Julian fumbles, moving a bit of chicken around in his plate. The high planes of his cheeks pink slightly. "No, I don't." His answer comes out accompanied by a hint of awkwardness. "I'm too busy with Hannah as it is."

Cricket silence saturates the room, I search around in my brain, looking for a new subject to deviate from the having more children topic, and come up with nothing. My panic must be showing because Cami, of all people, comes to my rescue.

"You know, Julian," she blurts, out of the blue. In an immediate reflex, my mouth curls up. I glance up from my plate conveying to Cami a look that communicates Please, don't embarrass me! She tries to school her face into a serious mother hen expression before focusing on Julian again. "You are monopolizing our goddess," she says, matter-of-factly. "We've been missing her."