Chapter 19
— Scout —
Fuck me to tears, I’d never choked on my damn tongue like I had the moment I’d crashed into her spare room, discovering that sex machine with a dildo girthy enough to make a grown man’s eyes water.
Not only was I offended on behalf of my manhood, but I also struggled to put two-and-two together once noticing the chair and the filming equipment, the lubed appendage, and a recently used towel strewn on the floor.
And I was pissed. Fuming. Shaking with both shock and disbelief as I threw myself behind the wheel of my car and took off, hell for leather down the street.
Each block passed in a blind blur of reeling thoughts. Of squeezing fingers and clenched jaw. Betrayal rose up my throat, making my foot push harder on the gas. Familiar urges clawed within. Starting in the pit of my stomach and rising to be slick bitterness on the back of my tongue.
It was all I could control in moments the world spun out of control. Control, then release. Ironic really, since that was the last thing I wanted to do to Remmy: Control her. I’d judged her in the heat of the moment, and while I would work it through in my mind, all I could think about—all I could crave—was the bittersweet relief that came with finally getting to my apartment, rushing upstairs, and throwing myself to my knees before the toilet.
I gripped the icy porcelain with one hand, bracing myself against each heave. It barely took effort to coax my stomach into purging. And with the burn came equal measures of salvation and shame. My closest friend and foe. Both coated in the addiction that had its claws hooked deep within me ever since the accident many years ago.
Panting to catch my breath, I wiped my mouth on some toilet paper, then, elbow balanced on the cool porcelain rim, I held my head up with one hand.
I cursed under my breath as dejection took hold. I’d not only failed myself, but I’d failed Remmy by storming out. Even though she wanted me gone, I should have had more patience. Given her more time and less pressure to explain.
A heavy sigh loosened my chest as I rose to my feet. I welcomed the splash of cold water on my heated skin, then pressed the towel to my face for a good minute while I internally berated myself.
I brushed my teeth without meeting my own eyes in the mirror, then clomped downstairs for a drink. While I drank cold water from the bottle, I thought, really thought about what I’d literally stumbled upon.
Did it really matter? I tilted my head to both sides in answer to my silent question. Yes and no. No, because it wasn’t any of my damn business. But yes, because I hated to admit that it bruised my ego more than expected.
After countless minutes of deliberation while I mindlessly chewed down a protein bar, I kept coming back to the same conclusion: There was only one way to get answers. And that was to return to Remmy's.
~
By the time I arrived at her apartment for the second time that afternoon, my mouth was dry, and my pulse set a punishing rhythm in my veins, but my head was calm. Now at ease with what I’d learned, I was ready—if not curious—for more information.
I knocked again when my first set went unanswered, and I was thumbing my phone to call her when the lock snicked from the inside.
I held my breath. Anticipation squeezed my lungs when all I wanted to do was inhale deeply.
Remmy took the longest time opening the door, but I didn’t rush her. If she even let me back into her apartment, it had to be done at her pace and at her own will.
One beautiful, large green eye appeared in the narrow crack of the barely opened door. It immediately narrowed on me.
“You’re back.” Not a question, but a bland statement.
I fought the urge to fidget but rocked back onto my heels and faked a smile. “Missed me?”
An impatient snort left her mouth. “No. I didn’t.”
Rubbing the back of my neck failed to ease the pinched tension there. I kept my hand clamped as I looked up at her from under my brows. “Can I come in? Please?”
Again, her eye narrowed. “Why?”
“Because we, uh, have… unfinished business.” I internally cringed at how lame it sounded even to my own ears.
The door closed a fraction, and I could feel myself losing her. I set a hand on the painted door—not hard enough to push it inward, but in the hopes to prove that I wasn’t playing around.
“I want to talk, Remmy. Properly. I want to understand…” I trailed off and swallowed thickly. “Please.”
Much to my relief, the door opened a fraction wider. However, that relief was short-lived.
“I don’t want to talk. I want you to forget about what you saw, and about me,” she added as a barely there whisper. One that sent a shot of ice into the pit of my stomach.
“Not happening.” I held up two fingers. “Twice I thought I’d never see you again. I’m not willing to make it a third.”
Remmy blinked quickly a few times as if she were fighting back emotion. If she felt anything like I did inside, she was torn. So fucking torn.
“Sometimes you don’t get to choose,” she whispered.
I gulped and shook my head slightly. Don’t do it I silently willed her. Don’t say it .
My hand pressed a fraction harder on the door. My tone lowered as I leaned forward, oozing desperation without a care.
“Please, babe. I don’t want to judge. I just want to understand.”
“The disgust in your eyes before you left told me otherwise.”
I cringed. But she mistook my reaction when in fact it was, “Shock,” I whispered. “Not disgust. Complete and utter shock.”
I could almost see Remmy’s shoulders sag as she exhaled a heavy sigh. Mercifully, the door slowly shifted open, taking my hand with it.
“Can I come in?” I double-checked before taking a single step forward.
Remmy’s sweeping gesture was silent but an invitation nonetheless.
Awkward tension enveloped us as the door clicked closed. “I—”
She cut me off with a quick lift of her hand. It hovered between us as she shook her head. “Not yet.”
I nodded in understanding. We needed a little time to adjust. To re-calibrate to one another.
Opening my arms, I motioned her forward with a flick of my fingers, then wrapped her tight when she stepped into me.
Relief expelled from my chest as a long hum. “I’m sorry,” I murmured into her hair. “For reacting the way I did.”
Subtle movement—a head shake—against my shoulder accompanied her reply. “It’s not you who needs to be sorry. I wanted to keep that part of me hidden from you for so much longer. And I hate the way you found out…”
I pulled away just enough to focus on her at close range. Her long lashes swept up as she shifted her gaze to meet mine. Pretty green irises flecked with a hint of hazel stole my breath and stilled my heart. So sad. Brimming with worry. Perhaps fear. But still holding immeasurable strength.
“You look like you’re about to bust my balls,” I drawled quietly, unable to stop the joke from escaping off the tip of my tongue.
“I wanted to earlier. I’ve calmed down now.”
She tucked back into the hollow of my neck and smoothed her hands up and down my back.
“I’m glad,” I murmured. “I’m rather fond of my balls.”
Remmy snorted, and I felt the vibrations of her amusement. “All guys are.”
“Hey.” I waited until she looked up at me again, then ran my thumb over her high cheekbone. “Thank you for letting me back in.”
A flicker of something unreadable flashed through her eyes before she blinked it away. “Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t told you exactly what I do.”
Pure, crippling dread clamped in my belly. I shoved it away, forcing my focus to remain steady on Remmy. I ducked my head, our lips now so close we shared a breath. When she didn’t shy away, I erased the final space between us and claimed her mouth with mine.
Slow. Gentle. I angled her head further to the side and groaned as she opened for me, tongue meeting mine without hesitation.
And for just a moment, I pushed all the unknowns and unanswered questions to the side while silently begging for her forgiveness.