Chapter Twenty-Five
chapter twenty-five
MAY
I step through the doors to Rosemary Cottage and take a deep breath. A breath full of fresh air. No smoke, no cinders, only fresh cool air floating up from the sea. I’ve missed this place so much.
I grab one of the boxes that Rafael carelessly dumped at the front door and bring it inside, placing it on the new kitchen counter.
The kitchen looks the same, but different. There are new wooden countertops, new duck egg blue cabinets made to look the same as the ones they replaced. You wouldn’t even know they were different with a quick glance, but I notice the scratches and dings that no longer dent the wooden panels.
A new oven—that’s probably the one thing I’m happy about being replaced. And new hooks, just where my old ones were. Marina must have gone to the antique store in town and got some more. It makes my insides melt that she thought of me like that. It was never originally here, just something I added for myself.
I hear the rumbling of a motorbike approaching through the open front door. I walk over to it, leaning my hip against the frame as I look at Marina and Isla approaching on Marina’s bike. I chuckle when I think about the fit Caio would throw if he knew Isla was riding on the back of Marina’s bike .
“How’s the puppy dog feel about you riding that thing?” I ask as they both lay their helmets on the handles of the bike.
“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Isla shrugs.
“Oh, you’re looking for trouble, aren’t you?”
She shakes her head, laughing as they approach me. I smile back at her. I probably look like a maniac based on how big it is, because I know something she doesn't know, and I know it's happening soon.
“How does it feel to be back?” Marina wraps me in a hug.
“I forgot how much I love this place.”
“Were you getting comfortable in Rafael’s cushy mansion?”
“Definitely not,” I say as I follow them inside. “That place is eerie. It’s too quiet. Going to the bathroom at night gave me the heebie-jeebies.”
Marina chuckles. “Yeah, I never quite knew why he made such dramatic changes when he renovated the place. You’d never know it’s the same place he used to live in with his nonna.” That gives me pause.
“Wait, that’s his nonna’s old house?” He never said.
“Mm-hmm. He renovated it when she died. Don’t get me wrong, the place is cool, just very different.”
I feel the puzzle pieces falling together in my mind. No wonder he renovated it so drastically. Between his own house and the restaurant, his entire life was filled with reminders of the past. I can understand wanting to do anything you can to scrub yourself free of the past. I just cut my hair and moved across the world instead of renovating my house.
“How was the fishing trip?” Isla asks.
How was the fishing trip? Good question.
“Well, I didn’t catch any fish.” Both of their eyes settle on me, waiting for any other crumbs I might feed them about what happened over the last two days, but I can’t say it. I can’t watch their faces light up. I can’t tell them how it felt unlike anything I’ve experienced with anyone else, how it felt like more, and how that’s precisely why it can never happen again .
“It was boring. Rafael caught a few fish, but apart from that, there’s nothing to report.” I’m not confident about where those fish wound up. I never saw him do anything with them…
I don’t tell them about the waterfall. About the way his skin singed mine, even in the freezing water. About how he opened up to me, and then opened me up, split me in half before I shut it all down.
“Oh my god!” Isla squeals. “Where did you get this cutie?” She pulls my whale mug from the box I left on the counter.
My heart flips as I think of the night Rafael gave it to me, the night we shared hot chocolates with mini marshmallows. The first night where it felt like things really changed between us. That feels like so long ago now, so far from where we now stand, wherever that is.
“Rafael got it for me.” I don’t know if I should’ve lied and said I got it myself, but it’s too late now.
“Cute,” she responds, and Marina just eyes me.
“So, what are you guys doing here?”
Isla hangs Whaley up on a hook, the start of a new collection. “Well, we thought we’d help you settle back in.”
Marina grabs a book from the same box. “Lord knows you couldn’t get all your books on your shelves without some help.”
I just smile and we settle into a comfortable silence, putting the cottage back together piece by piece, making it mine again.
Marina yawns, plonking herself down on the new couch after a few hours of work. “We should get going. Can’t be delivering the precious cargo too late.” Isla rolls her eyes but doesn’t disagree.
“Thank you guys for coming. I really appreciate it.”
They both give me a hug before they head out. “I’ll see you at the bar tomorrow, yeah?” Marina calls out over her shoulder .
“Aye aye, captain,” I give her a salute before shutting the front door.
I turn back around with a sigh. My place, finally mine again. I smile as I grab my mug off it’s hook and put the kettle on to boil. I’m comfortable doing that now.
I never said anything, but when I woke up that morning after Rafael and I fought in the rain, the last thing I expected was to see him lying there on the ground next to me. He looked so uncomfortable, lying straight on the concrete floor. I’m surprised he didn’t pull a muscle or something. Lord knows I would’ve been complaining for weeks if that had been me. But he didn’t say a word, and neither did I.
I never told him how much it meant to me that he stayed there with me, that he put himself between myself and the flames—whether that was on purpose or not. I never told him that the only reason I was able to put the kettle on that morning was because I knew he was right there. That I was safe because he was with me.
You're safe.
I reach up, opening the top cabinet for the mini marshmallows that aren’t there. In fact, I don’t have any hot chocolate mix. I left it at Rafael’s.
I turn the kettle off and slink over to the couch, snuggling up with my blanket and grabbing a book. I sit and read for less than a minute before I note how quiet it is. It’s too quiet, too empty.
Rafael’s house felt empty because of how big it is, but the cottage feels empty because I know there’s no one else here. There are no deep grunts, or long sighs, no giant grump waiting across the hall. This place feels empty without him.
I throw my book down to the end of the couch, angry at myself. I press the heels of my hands into my eye sockets, willing the tears to stay inside.
I promised myself I’d never do this again. Never let a man dictate my emotions. Sleeping with someone was only ever meant to be just that, and it has been until Rafael.
I should’ve never gone there with him, never even let myself think of him any other way than hating him. But hating him quickly turned into my favorite hobby. It felt like a secret language that he and I shared, that no one else could read. Like the words were all jumbled up, but he and I could decipher it clear as day. And I didn’t even realize it until that fire that burned in his proximity started feeling less like distaste, and more like desire.
I should’ve never pried into him, should’ve never asked so many questions. I should’ve kept things easy, should’ve kept things distant. I should’ve never moved in, should’ve never slept with him. Because now, I don’t know how to go back.
I can’t sleep. My brain won’t stop playing me a highlight reel of last night. I’ve tried imagining Dave in a tutu, a blobfish, my grandma getting hit by a truck. Nothing can take my mind off of the sound of Rafael’s voice in my ear. The slapping of our skin. The feeling of his tongue on my core.
Fuck.
I throw the bedsheets off of me. My body is aching for him, for his rough hands against my skin. For his harsh grip holding me in place.
Double fuck.
I can’t bring myself to regret it, no matter how hard I try. I roll over and grab my phone off my nightstand, and I freeze in place.
Rafael
Hey.
I gave Rafael my number when I first moved into his place, but he’s never used it. My heart beats out of my chest as I wonder why he chose now to text me.
Me
Hey.
The little bubbles appear, indicating that he’s typing. My heart races as I imagine all the shit he could say right now.
Rafael
What are you thinking about?
I can feel myself coming undone at the seams, every stitch of my self-control snapping one by one. My sleep deprived brain takes control, deciding to be bold.
Me
You.
Rafael
Jesus Christ May.
My phone starts buzzing in my hand.
“Hello?”
“What are you doing saying shit like that?” I don’t even know how to answer that, but I don’t get a chance. “You can’t go from acting frosty as Iceland in winter to telling me you’re thinking about me. Make up your mind.”
Straight shooter, alright. The thing is that I can’t. I can’t make up my mind, not about him. “I can’t.”
“Make it simple. Tell me you enjoyed last night as much as I did, or am I some old fucking idiot who’s inanely fixated on you?”
The fact that he’s thinking about our age gap proves how much he’s been turning this over in his head, because it doesn’t even factor in for me.
“You know how I felt last night.”
“I thought I did,” he snaps back. “Until this morning. So I’m going to need you to spell it out for me.”
“I enjoyed it.” His sigh of relief is audible through the phone line. “I can’t get it out of my head, can’t get you out of my head,” I admit.
His voice drops an octave. “What are you thinking about, exactly?”
My eyes flutter closed as I lay here in the dark, imagining he’s right here on top of me, his hard body hovering over mine. “I’m thinking about the way you filled my mouth with your fingers?—”
“Do it.”
“What?” My eyes snap open to the darkness of my room.
“Shove two of those dainty little fingers in your mouth, just like I did.”
I lie still for a moment, processing what’s going on here.
“May, I need you to do what I tell you,” he says, his voice low. “Make your fingers wet and touch yourself for me.”
My horny devil inside of me takes over and I do exactly what Rafael says. I slick my fingers and reach between my legs, letting out a breathy moan.
“That’s it, my girl.”
Another moan slips out of me at his words. I officially can’t concentrate when Rafael talks dirty. I have zero resolve when it comes to him, and I scold myself for it.
“Talk to me May, tell me what you’re doing.”
“I’m touching myself,” I breathe.
He chuffs a laugh, but it sounds strangled. “I’m gonna need more than that, Whitley.” He grinds the words out.
“I’m touching my clit, teasing it.” I can barely get the words out.
“Slip a finger inside yourself.” I moan as I follow his instructions.
“ Brava piccola .”
“Rafael?” I breathe.
“ Si ?”
“What are you doing?”
He lets out a low groan. “What do you think I’m doing, May?”
“I want you to tell me. ”
“I’m fucking my goddam hand, pretending like it’s your sweet little pussy wrapped tight around my cock, but it doesn’t feel quite the same.”
I moan, adding another finger inside of me as I imagine him on the other side of the line.
“Keep talking to me,” I say as I continue working my fingers inside of me. Feeling my muscles beginning to clench as I come closer to my release.
He grunts. “I can’t think of anything when you’re making those fucking sounds, blondie.”
“ Oh ,” I moan as my walls tighten around my fingers and my orgasm rolls through me.
I hear a “fuck” from the other side of the line, and I know Rafael just came with me.
I pant into the open space of my bedroom in the cottage and find myself wishing I was in his king-sized bed instead.
“So much for ‘this can never happen again,’ huh?” He pants a laugh on the other line.
I smack my forehead with my clean hand. Why the fuck did I pick up this damn phone?
“It was a two-time thing, okay?” He laughs like he doesn’t believe me. “Rafael, I just needed to get you out of my system, okay? And now I have, so we can go back to how we used to be.”
“Hating each other, you mean?” he asks. “That’s not gonna work for me. Now that I’ve got a taste of you, I don’t think I can remember how it feels to hate you.”