Always the One (Always and Forever 1)

“Shay! I knew you would man up and take the jump! Welcome to the club! Oh my God. How was it? Did it hurt? I mean was he big? Small? Details, woman!”

My God, this woman has no filter. Literally none.

“My God, L! Do you have to be so graphic with your questions? What does that matter anyway? Doesn’t every girl hurt after the first couple of times?”

She snorts, and her eyes are wide like saucers.

“I knew our boy wouldn’t disappoint, and did I catch ‘first couple of times’ in there?” she says, quoting my previous statement. Unscrewing th

e cap from my water bottle I take a sip, watching her stare at me over the edge of the tilted bottle.

I swallow past the thick lump in my throat. Why am I so nervous? “Yeah, so. That’s normal, right?” I instantly feel insecurity hit me. Am I not normal? Should it feel less painful or not painful at all?

“When I was with Joel.” She pauses, and I see her shoulders tense. She looks around the room, as if he is going to pop out. “Sorry. When I was with Joel, I wasn’t experienced so I thought he was big. But it never hurt. So I told him it didn’t, and he just blamed me being loose whore. So, I always assumed I was the problem. But I was so far from the problem. When I slept with Kings the first time.” She stops, her cheeks flush as she rolls her eyes to the back of her head before bringing them back to mine. “He was so big and it hurt like hell. I still have to adjust to him whenever we sleep together. You would think after a few times I would be used to it, but nope.” I cringe when she says this, I love my brother, but I really could have gone my entire life without knowing that.

There is a soft rap on the door and we both answer, “Yes” in harmony. The receptionist opens the door and signals for us to follow her toward the massage room. I lie on the table and it’s silent for a minute after the receptionist leaves. So I voice my thoughts before the massage therapists can interrupt us.

“He’s pretty big. I mean he’s actually huge.” She chokes on a laugh; I join her in unison, laughing at my confession.

“I knew it! Well then, how do you feel? You can obviously walk so he didn’t break you too much.” I reach my hand out and slap her arm.

I wait a few seconds, trying to find the words to describe what it was like. Simple words won’t be able to do the experience justice. “He was so passionate and loving. I don’t know…he was…possessive.” My head is resting on my crossed arms so I can gauge her reactions. She’s lying similar to the way I am, so we can see each other perfectly.

“Possessive, like in a bad way?” She looks concerned and it’s only because she remembers that word in relation to the negativity it held in her past relationship.

I lift and shake my head slightly, my eyes glued to the floor, searching for a better word.

“Possessive, in a good way. The same way that I am.” Her smile is soft, and I’m glad she gets it.

“The way he touched me, L, he was so in control. It was like art the way we moved together. Our bodies knew each other, like they were working on their own accord. Hmmm. I can’t even describe it, but it was better than anything I could have ever expected.” Just talking about the way I felt makes my stomach flutter. My core is clenching, missing the feel of him filling me.

“I mean, do you think this honeymoon phase will ever end? It’s like we can’t keep our hands to ourselves now that we’ve had sex.”

“No, not if it’s real love,” she says with finality. She sounds like she’s speaking from experience.

“Speaking of sex, um, how long have you and my brother been hooking up? Are you guys a thing?” I ask her, hopeful that she’ll say yes. She hasn’t loved anyone since Joel, so her finding love is well deserved. She needs to be happy again. I need to remind myself to say a silent prayer for her to find love again.

“No.” She doesn’t explain further.

“Why not, L? You deserve happiness.” I want her to let go of Joel completely, I want her to feel what real love is, knowing with every fiber of my being that my brother can give that to her.

“Because. He is so…uh. I can’t even explain it to you,” she says, exasperated, and I can tell she’s even more conflicted with what to do. “He is so infuriating sometimes, and my God he is so cocky. Like, who does he think he is?”

I smile. That’s my brother for you.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve been his sister for twenty-one years. I know how he can be. But I know he is also the greatest man in my life. Besides my dad and Trey, Kings is by far the best man I know.” Kings would lay down his life to protect me without so much as a thought.

“He’s sweet, but he has those tendencies still. The ones that scare me.” Her eyes are distant, I can see her pupils dilating at whatever thought she’s thinking.

“Lana?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. It’s this thing he does where he tells me I’m his and no one else’s, or he will never let anyone have me. Joel did that shit and it wasn’t good. I’m not going down that rabbit hole with Kings.”

Okay, that’s fair to fear it, and I’m not mad. But honestly, my brother may be possessive and caveman-like, but he would never lay a hand of violence on her.

“Lana, he’s not Joel. Trust me. I get that you’re scared. I can’t imagine what you went through. But that’s not my brother.” I ensure a tad defensively in his case; he would never hurt her in a million years. We both fall silent. Hopefully, she can absorb what I just told her, she needs to take in what I just said and let it stew during our massages. The heavens must have heard my thoughts, because the two massage therapists walk in and get to work. The massages are silent, and then we are taken to separate rooms for waxing and hot baths, giving us both time to think about the men in our lives. One I can’t live without and one she isn’t sure how to live with.

I change back into my dark skinny jeans that I paired with an olive sweater and leather jacket. My face is fresh from the facial and makeup free. I pull my hair into a tight ponytail and make my way out to the lobby to meet back up with Lana. We’re supposed to meet the boys and family at the hotel bar for a late lunch. After spending an hour apart, I already feel guilty for leaving the conversation where I did. I need to be sensitive to Lana’s feelings and the turmoil she once went through. When I see her face as I hit the lobby, the guilt magnifies. She looks haunted, and I know she wants to be with Kingston but her inner demons are screaming at her to run the other way. Just like Trey’s do every so often.