Free Tension by R. L. Griffin

worry. What was your dream about?”
    “Getting killed.”
    “Love…” His thumb traced her jaw line and he kissed her gently. “I’m so sorry.”
    “Why are you sorry? You didn’t shoot me.” Stella would never admit that to the general public; but that’s how she felt. The only person who should apologize to her is the motherfucker who shot her. “I don’t understand why people keep apologizing to me. Apologizing means that you’re admitting to an error and expressing regret. Why do people apologize for shit they didn’t do?”
    “That’s where you’re wrong. People aren’t apologizing to you; they’re saying they are sorry. They’re sad for you. I’m sad for you.”
    Stella looked at him for several long minutes. That does kind of make sense. “Okay, genius...You’re right this time, but don’t get used to it.”
    His fingers traced one of the many scars on her chest; she was wearing a tank top and several scars protruded from the low neckline. She was still disturbed by all the scars. Stella was trying to get back to normal, but she couldn’t make herself sleep naked like she did before the attack. Her body was so ugly now.
    “I’m sorry, George,” she finally said.
    “Sorry for what, El? You didn’t do anything.”
    “I’m sad for you,” she clarified.
    “For me?” He cocked his head to the side.
    “Yep. Not only did you fall in love with someone that’s emotionally broken; now I’m physically broken, too.”
    “El, you’re amazing just the way you are.”

    Stella pulled on a black string bikini and hate bounced off the walls as she seethed, taking in all the scars on her skin. Her once-flawless skin was now raised, puckered, and angry crimson. She put on a cover-up and walked into the den, Cooper following behind her.
    “Hey, babe!” Stella called to George, who was typing on his laptop in one of the leather armchairs. “You working?” she asked.
    “Just need to follow up on a few things,” he replied. George was already in his swim trunks and no shirt, his lean torso exposed.
    Stella walked determinedly over to where he was sitting and took the laptop off his lap, putting it on the side table. She leaned down and kissed his neck, moving slowly up his throat until she captured his lips with hers. George grabbed her ass and lifted her on to his lap. He kissed her jaw line, then her neck, soft and teasing, and then moved to her chest. She tensed as his lips moved over her scars, hate tingling through her body before she pushed it out of her mind. George sensed her tension and pulled back, looking into her eyes.
    “You okay?” His voice was filled with concern.
    Instead of answering, Stella lifted herself up and easily pulled his swim trunks down his hips. She took her bikini bottoms off and sat back on his lap. They kissed slowly at first, taking time to explore each other. The deeper the kisses got, the more fevered their touches became, her need for him consuming her. She let her body take over and the building sensation in her gut made all her worries fall away.

    Later, Cooper ran up and down the beach as Stella lay on a lounge chair, letting her broken body soak up the sun. George bobbed up and down in the surf with a beer. Cooper ran to Stella, kicked sand on her legs and jumped up on the chair, causing the part with Stella’s head to lift off the ground.
    “Coop!” Stella yelled, swatting at him. Then she saw what was in his mouth. “Shit,” she moaned.
    Cooper jabbed his mouth at Stella’s hand and then ran back.
    “Give it!” Stella demanded.
    Cooper was playing keep away.
    She hung her head. “Damn it.” Stella sat up and put her feet in the sand. “Drop it,” she demanded again, exasperated. She wasn’t sure she had the energy to chase the ball away from him. Then she laughed. This is why she never gave Cooper tennis balls. He couldn’t grasp the concept of fetch. She and Jamie used to call it “bring it back,” because Cooper didn’t get it.