The Way She Wears My Clothes

I drove, because I couldn’t stand being away from her much longer. As soon as Sierra, Alex and I were safely back at his home, I was saying goodbye, climbing into my car and I drove. I drove from Baltimore, stopping only to fill up my tank before I got on the highway north to Poughkeepsie. It took 4 long painful hours and 26 agonizing minutes to get there, and once I was there, I realized I had no idea where Tay might be.

I pulled into a gas station parking lot right off the Poughkeepsie exit and dialed, staring at the last rays of the sunset over the city.

“Jack?”

“I’m in Poughkeepsie, where are you?”

“Home?” she replied.

“Yeah, well, I have no idea where that is. Give me the address and I’ll be there soon.”

“You mean it? You’re really in New York?”

“I’m really in New York, baby,” I replied. She rattled off her address which I entered into the GPS and waited for it to recalculate my position compared to my destination.

“God, you’re perfect. I’ll see you soon!” she said with a laugh and hung up. I followed the directions until I pulled up out front of an apartment building, my headlights sweeping over Tay Jardine sitting on the stoop waiting, clad in a pair of shorts and an oversized JAGK t-shirt. I parked and shut off my car, breathing out slowly. I could see her shaking from here, physically trying to hold herself still but that all came crashing down when I opened my car door. She jumped up and raced towards me, barely giving me time to close my door before she had me pressed against it, lips crashing together haphazardly.

The weeks that had separated us had not marred my memory of the way she felt against me, her tongue slipping between my lips as she stood on her tiptoes. She tasted the same, of toothpaste and YooHoo, mingled with a faint taste of Jack Daniels and margaritas today.

“We should,” she gasped, pulling away for air. “We should go inside. I need to take off your clothes and I can’t do that in the parking lot.”

I smirked and leaned down, sweeping her legs out from under her and wrapping them around my waist. I carried her from the car, her mouth attacking a wet trail from my ear down my jaw and to my neck, trying to keep us steady enough to make it to the front door. There were four buildings, each marked with the letters to indicate which apartments were housed there. Tay lived in Apartment F, in Building E-H and she lived, thankfully, on the bottom floor.

“Tay, door,” I groaned as she sucked impatiently at the side of my neck.

“Open,” she murmured without taking her mouth away. I liked this side of Tay Jardine, the forward, open girl who pushed me into cars and left marks on my neck. I liked all sides of Tay, in fact. I liked the sleepy, cuddly Tay and I liked happy, excitable Tay. I liked loud, obnoxious Tay, and shy, quiet Tay. I liked her when she was singing on stage, and I liked her when she was murmuring drunkenly into the phone. I loved her, and that was all I could think as I fumbled blindly for the door knob.

“Jesus Christ, where the fuck is it?”

“Language,” Tay grumbled.

“I can’t find the goddamn door handle,” I replied, my hand finally catching on the metal. I pushed open the door and carried her inside, slamming it shut with my foot. It was a small, cozy apartment which felt like a home the moment you stepped inside. A candle was lit on the television stand, the living room smelling of warm vanilla and sugar cookies. Even though she’d been home a few weeks, a few of her suitcases remained packed on the floor, open but full. The couch was littered with crinkled clear plastic packages, a box of oatmeal crème pies on the floor.

“This is homey,” I muttered, depositing Tay unceremoniously on the couch, stepping back to admire the home she’d made for herself.

“Shut up and get down here!” she growled, reaching out and grabbing the belt loops on my jeans, dragging me in close to her.
“Someone is eager.”

“Shut up.” She tugged at my belt until it came loose from itself.

“No, but, I just got in the door and you’re already trying to take my clothes off. Isn’t that a bit backwards? I’m pretty sure I’m the one who is supposed to be too eager to get into your pants.”

“It’s been too long since I’ve kissed you, or even touched you. Now for once in your life, Jack Barakat, stop talking and kiss me.”

“Mmm, I think I can manage that. Just, one more thing, Tay.”

“What?” she snapped.

“I love you,” I said, leaning over and connecting our lips in a heated, frantic kiss.

“I love you too,” she replied, pulling me down and wrapping herself around me, as if she were afraid to let me go. That was alright, I was afraid to let her go. It felt unreal, the way she was there, the way she felt pressed into me, the way her shirt rode up just enough. That shirt, it’s like she wore it on purpose, because I know she knows what it does to me. I chuckled into the kiss. Of course, she wore it. It was unreal and so real at the same time, so real the way she wears my clothes and my heart.