His American Fling (23 page)

Yes, I know I shouldn’t have read them, but I’m only human and I wanted to see if they were discussing me. They were in
chronological order from the oldest to present.  I read the one that was marked just after I went into the hospital.

Thursday:

Maggie will be fine, you don’t have to worry. I’ll see to it that she finds lodgings and gets well. Are you coming up next weekend? Cam

Friday

I know you will do right by Mags. She’s still very fond of you. No, I won’t be coming up next weekend. I am going to the bachelor party for Trevor next Friday, the wedding on Saturday and then to Wembley to watch Manchester United. I have a ticket for you. You will be down, right?  Henry

Friday

Yes, Gemma and I are coming for the wedding. I’m sure Gemma would love to spend Sunday with the other hens, so count me in for Sunday. Do you want us to give Maggie a ride with us when we come down? Cam

Monday

I thought I would let Maggie rest and get better. You know how busy it is going to be that weekend.  Henry

Wednesday

You don’t have to make up lies, Henry.  I heard that Sophia was in London. But, I can’t believe that you would leave Maggie alone after what she’s been through. In my professional opinion, I think she is healthy enough to make the trip to London this weekend for the wedding. Cam

Wednesday

Campbell, I do not need any lectures about Maggie. We’re fine, I just talked to her and she sounded tired. It will be best if she uses this weekend to catch up on her rest.  And yes, Sophia is in town. I had dinner with her last night. She will be coming to the wedding, and to the football game, as my guest. She’s an old friend and I haven’t seen her for a while. Henry

My heart sagged and I started to tear up. It made me realize that I did have feelings for Henry. My feelings weren’t as strong as what I had felt for Campbell during the summer, but still what I felt for Henry was firmly rooted, starting to bud. I wanted to believe him, that he just wanted me to get well, but Campbell seemed apprehensive about this Sophia. I knew that I shouldn’t continue to read, but I was like a drunk, promising myself that I’d give up booze tomorrow. I clicked on the next email.

Thursday

Sophia, just your friend? Who are you fooling Henry? If that were true, you would invite Maggie to show her off. Maggie would certainly make Sophia jealous, look how jealous Gemma is. 

It is not too late to invite her. Gemma and I can give her a ride down with us tomorrow. Cam

Friday

I am not going to get into this over the internet. I will make it up to Maggie when I get back. I will see you this afternoon. Henry

I sat staring at the screen, still wondering what the words
really meant or whether I was reading more into it than there was. I hated email, you couldn’t hear the inflection in the words, see the body language.  You could interpret each post a little differently, except for one thing. I could tell Campbell felt sorry for me. The last thing I wanted from Campbell was his pity. So that’s what all this hair play and flowers was about? He seems worried for me. But why?  Because I was ill?  Because Henry wasn’t going to invite me to London?  It didn’t matter, all this proved was that I had allowed myself to care about two men and gotten my face pushed into the mud both times. What was the saying, “Once burned, shame on you; twice burned, shame on me”?

Well there was another saying I tried to live by—“The best revenge is living well.”  And the only way I could live well in England was to do well in school. I turned my attention back to my studies and stayed up all night organizing notes and writing papers. At 2:00
a.m. looked up at the mantel clock in the library and ran my hand through my hair. I felt both invigorated and exhausted. The work I had done in the last seven hours was tremendous, exhilarating, and enthralling, but now I needed sleep. I logged off the computer, grabbed my things and climbed the stairs to bed.

I had decided to use my Saturday off to just vegetate.  I woke up at ten, grabbed a text book and went down to do my laundry. I put a load in, grabbed a bowl of cereal and went up to the living room. I was happy to be doing my laundry because I was quickly running out of
underwear and clothes. 

I took a long bike ride on Campbell’s new bike and then watched a DVD while I folded my clothes, leaving them on the chair until I went upstairs. I was laying on my tummy reading my International Law book and listening to my IPOD when I felt someone standing over me.  I screamed bloody murder, turning and putting my arms and hands up defensively. Campbell started laughing as I ripped the earplugs out of my ears.

“
Jesus Christ, Campbell!” 
I ran over to the chair where my clean laundry was piled.  I put on a T-shirt over my underwear and then looked through my pile of laundry for my sweat pants. I realized they were still in the dryer. I found a denim skirt and began to put it on.

“Maggie, you don’t have to, it’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”

“Yeah, but that was B.P. Your “get to see Maggie undressed” card was revoked A.P.”

“What are
BP and AP?”

“Before Pearls and After Pearls.

He rolled his eyes and snickered.

I continued to put my skirt on and zip it up, “Why are you home and why are you sneaking up on me?”

“I didn’t sneak up on you. I called out your name when I was coming up the stairs from the kitchen.”  He reached over and pulled on my earplugs which dangled around my neck, to emphasize that I probably had my music too loud. Then he stopped and looked down, away from my eyes, “I came home because I had a …” He paused as if he was trying to get his story right. “I came home because I had a message that they needed my opinion on some of the microbial readings in the dorm.” It might be true, but I doubted it. He looked like he was lying. He continued, “I stopped by the hospital and then came home. No sense going back to London tonight.”

My heart was just starting to slow down.  I sighed, sounding a bit exasperated with him.  But, I couldn’t be too miffed, he was standing there, looking so handsome in a deep royal blue sweater and gorgeous dark, gray slacks. I was pretty sure his monogram was on the wrist of the Bond Street shirt that peaked out at the top and sleeves. All in all, the guy looked like an ad in GQ.  I felt all
squishy inside.

“I need a drink?  Mags?”

I nodded. “Sure, whatever you’re having.”

He snickered.
“I was thinking some Talisker.”

“Talisker?”

“Single malt whiskey.”

“Oh, then make mine a vodka tonic, if that’s not too much trouble.”

“Fine.”  He went downstairs and appeared a few minutes later with the drinks. I had taken my clothes upstairs and put my books away. Sitting down on the sofa, he pulled his sweater off and folded it like a good little boy.  He sat on the opposite end of the sofa. “What are we watching?”

I always loved the British use of the royal “we.”

“We’re watching,
Jeeves and Wooster.
After this is,
Monty Python and the Holy Grail.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but haven’t you seen that a dozen times or more?”

I pretended to be coy. “Hmmm.  Uh, maybe a few times.”

“No, I remember that when we watched it before that you could say all of the lines.”

“Oh, hardly
all
of the lines.”

He turned grinning. “Well then,
most
of the lines.”

“It’s a good movie.”

He leaned back with his drink and put his legs up. “Yes, it is, but let’s see what else is on.” He grabbed the remote and started surfing channels.

“No you don’t!  Not until Jeeves and
Wooster is over. They remind me of you and your friends.” I turned it back to the DVD.

He put a hand to his heart in mock protest. “Surely you jest.”

I laughed. “Don’t call me Shirley!”

Turning with his finger pointing at me, Campbell cried out, “
Airplane! That’s from Airplane!
” He put his finger down. “I love that movie.”

“I do too!”

His grin disappeared as he turned back towards the television. “Gemma hates it. She thinks it’s moronic and silly
.”

“And Monty Python isn’t?”

“I guess because they bring up the Spanish Inquisition, she thinks it shows some savoir fare.”

We both laughed. I mimicked him by leaning my head back on the couch and putting my feet up on the coffee table. Both turning our heads at the same time to look at each other, we connected like we used to connect. It was that look that we gave each other at the end of a long day that said we were happy to be with each other. I know he felt it because he quickly looked back at his glass to avoid me.

“Campbell?”

He didn’t look at me, but answered with a, “Hmmm?”

“Why are you really here?”

He snorted. “I told you, I was called back to check something about the dorms.”

“Campbell, I can tell when you’re lying--well, most of the time—and you’re lying.”

He didn’t say anything, making the giant pause between us even more embarrassing.  Finally, he looked over and said, “Maggie, I was worried about you being alone. You were all alone when we found you. No one had bothered to check on you, and I kept worrying that you might have an allergic reaction to the medication.”

I had a strong feeling that this was only part of it, that there was more to his reason for being home, but for some reason, he was protecting me.

“I’m fine.  I wish you hadn’t given up going to your friend’s wedding just to be my nurse.”

He jerked his head around and narrowed his eyes. “How did you know that I was going to a wedding?  All we said was that we were going to London.”

I blushed, “I think Henry mentioned it.”

“
Henry told you about the wedding
?”

“He mentioned
a while back that one of his friends was getting married this weekend.  I just assumed that you’d both be attending since you run in the same circles.” I was praying that I made a better liar than him.

He relaxed—
clearly glad that I knew about the wedding.  I have to admit, I didn’t really want to go. I hate the jackass. He’s more Gemma’s childhood friend than mine.”

I giggled and he started to laugh with me.  Turning our attention to
Jeeves and Wooster
, we saw that it was just finishing. Campbell threw me the remote and went downstairs, bringing up an ice bucket, the Grey Goose, Tonic and a bottle of Talisker.

We watched Monty Python, drinking our drinks and laughing at the bits I started to recite. When it got to my favorite pa
rt, “It’s only a flesh wound,” I chirped and then got the giggles and couldn’t stop. I’d had three rather strong drinks and was feeling no pain.  I could tell from his laughter that Campbell was tipsy too. 

Picking up the remote, he stabbed me playfully in the stomach. “Only a flesh wound?  Well, how about this
?” He kept poking me as I tried to poke him back. I leaned over him to tickle him and found myself just inches from his face. We were both laughing. The laughter died and I was still staring at his lips, my breathing picking up.

He hesitated for a brief moment, then
leaned in and kissed me, his hand tickling my knee and then his soft fingertips slowly edging up my inner thigh. I met his lips, letting my tongue find his. The sound of our mouths and tongues touching and sucking combined with the taste of the Talisker made me wet.  I could smell his soap and shampoo as he kissed my neck and sucked slowly on my ear lobes. Those long arms of his wrapped around and pulled me over into his lap where he bent me down and continued to play with my tongue. That finger continued to climb ever so gently up my thigh.  He stopped kissing and looked down at my skirt, pushing it up a little so he could study my thighs, his fingertips lightly grazing across them.

I watched him as he did this. It was as if he was an artist painting. The swirling on the inner part of my thigh was so delicate and so hot, I could feel my groin aching.  He brushed his fingertips lightly across the lace of my panties above my folds, causing me to take in a sharp breath. That caught his attention, because he turned and leaned back to kiss me.

“Take your top off,” he ordered me, his voice husky, breath full of whiskey.

I sat partially up and took off the T-shirt.   He took his hand from my thighs and rubbed his fingertips across the tops of my breast just
before he started to systematically unbutton each pearl button down the camisole I was wearing. When the camisole opened, revealing my breasts, he gave a little moan. Bending down to lick and fondle them, he finally looked up. “Mags, they are so beautiful. Your pink, taut, nipples are perfect.” As he said it, he took one of them in his mouth and began to suck, hard and fast. I felt a congestion building in my groin, an aching to feel him inside.