Chapter 15
Scottie
I spreadmy new puzzle onto my table and sort out the edges—one thousand pieces to distract me from thinking about Koen and Price spending the evening together.
I brush my teeth a little after ten, feeling disappointed that Koen didn’t stop by after his workout. He left so early this morning we didn’t get a chance to talk.
As if he knows I’m sulking, I get a call from him, so I quickly spit the toothpaste into the sink. “Hey!”
“I’m texting you my address if you want to see my Scrotum.”
“You could get arrested for that kind of proposition.”
He laughs.
“But yeah, I’d love to see your dog, and I wouldn’t mind taking a gander at your scrotum. It was dark last night. I didn’t get to inspect much.”
“I’ll unlock the front door. I’m going to jump in the shower. Come on in when you get here.”
“Okay. See ya soon.” I end the call before squealing like a little girl. Then, I shave everything but my head before applying lotion and my Foreplay essential oil blend.
To my surprise, Koen lives less than fifteen minutes from my place. He has a sprawling lot covered in trees, and his house isn’t just any house. It looks like one shipping container stacked onto another with massive windows and a detached garage.
“Hello?” I call, cracking open the door.
Scrot barks and greets me the second I step inside.
“Hey, buddy. Oh, you’re such a good boy.” I squat and give him the attention he’s craving. “Where’s your daddy? Is he still in the shower? Should I get naked and join him?”
“Fuck. Hold that thought. I’ll head back to the bathroom,” Koen says, descending the last few steps, wearing jogging shorts and nothing else. A few drops of water still cling to his torso and damp hair.
I grin. “You live in shipping containers. This is very cool.” I glance around the open space with only a few walled-off rooms. A wide steel split staircase leads to the upper level.
“I think your friend is loaded,” Koen says.
I give Scrot one more scratch behind his ears and stand. “Price?”
Koen leans against the railing. “Yeah.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because he spent the entire time giving me tips on investing. He knows his stuff. When someone knows that much, they’ve used that knowledge to their benefit. So I have to wonder why he’s living where he lives, driving a Honda, and working at the general store.”
“Did you ask him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I just met the guy. I didn’t want to pry or sound like a dick putting down his lifestyle. I think being rich but living a modest life is pretty admirable.”
“Is that why he was giving you advice? So you could be rich and live a modest life?” I pad my way to him.
“No. He wants to ensure I can care for my wife and kids.”
My eyebrows shoot up my head as I wrap my arms around his neck. “You have a wife and kids? Do they know where you were last night? When will they be back? How much time do we have?”
Koen ducks, kissing my neck. “He loves you. It’s painfully obvious.” He kisses my jaw before finding my mouth.
I don’t want to talk about Price. It’s too heartbreaking. And a little heart-confusing. So I press my hands to Koen’s face, kissing him deeper until I need a breath. “Did you clean off your bed for me?”
He grins. “Clean sheets, too.”
“Why? We’re just going to get them dirty.”
“Careful.” He pulls off my sweater, eyebrows peaking in approval when he discovers I’m not wearing a bra. Again, he kisses me.
So, this is what addiction feels like. My head swims from his touch.
“I will not give you back to him if you keep saying things like that,” he whispers, one hand cupping my breast, the other sliding down the back of my linen lounge pants. He moans when he’s greeted with flesh, no underwear.
I packed light.
Koen squeezes my butt, claiming it, and I gasp. If I could catch my breath, I’d tell him I’m not Price’s, but even as I think the words, my heart feels a slight objection.
“We’re not going to make it to the bedroom this time. Sorry,” he mumbles between kisses, walking backward to the sofa. The second he unties my pants, they fall to the floor, where he quickly adds his shorts and briefs.
As soon as my ass contacts the cool, soft leather, he’s inside of me. It’s slow and hard, with an occasional kiss, but mostly, we look into each other’s eyes. I feel like he’s making a statement that I’m his.
I wouldn’t be here with him like this if I didn’t feel the same way.
“I takeit you don’t eat meat,” Koen says as I politely decline the leftover rotisserie chicken and stick to the mango and trail mix as we refuel in his kitchen just after midnight.
“Is that a blowjob reference? Because you haven’t?—”
“No.” He grins before licking his fingers, legs dangling from his perched position on his concrete counter. Tempting me in nothing but his boxer briefs.
I lean against the opposite counter, swimming in his tee. “My mother’s a cardiologist. My father’s a horticulturist. I was raised on veggies. Please don’t ask me where I get my protein.”
He slowly chews and inspects me with a hint of mischief tugging his lips. “I won’t ask you where you get your protein if you don’t ask me where I get my veggies.”
I slide a chunk of mango into my mouth. “Deal.”
“Has that question ended a lot of relationships for you?”
“All of them.” I smirk.
“What about Price?”
I stare at the bowl of trail mix, sifting through the raisins and sunflower seeds to retrieve a cashew. “Price was the exception to everything.”
“That’s not very comforting.”
I try to reassure him with a slow headshake and a soft smile. “You shouldn’t feel threatened by him.”
“When you’re wearing nothing but my shirt and standing in my kitchen, I don’t feel threatened by him. But I can’t say the same when I’m out of town, or you’re hanging out at his place.”
I absentmindedly tug at my bottom lip and stare at the floor. “How honest do you want me to be?”
Koen’s gaze lifts to the ceiling, and he shakes his head with a shrug. “Rip off the bandage.”
“We were opposites in every way. In a good way. And he would tell you that I broke it off. I did, but only because I felt intimidated by his big dreams. I was younger, with no direction. Still, it was a perfect summer that didn’t feel real. He didn’t feel real. I was the girl in Birkenstocks and braids. He was the guy in a suit and tie. He taught me how to taste wine before I was old enough to drink it. I taught him how to lie in the grass and stare at the clouds.”
When I glance up, Koen gives nothing away.
“At the end of summer, I told him to go conquer the world, and if we were meant to be, we would be.” I grunt a laugh. “I told him so many things that made no sense, but I did it with such fake confidence and conviction that he bought it. He trusted me. Who trusts a nineteen-year-old girl working in a store filled with stones and essential oils? A girl who walked away from the chance to go to college with her parents footing the bill. A girl who lived in a dinky studio apartment rather than at home to save money for something better.”
Koen covers the rest of the chicken and rests his hands on the counter”s edge. “It would seem he conquered the world, and now he’s here for you.”
I shake my head. “I thought he’d call me out on my bullshit. I thought he’d tell me how ridiculous I was being. When you find that kind of love, you don’t walk away. You don’t treat that kind of love like an option. It’s everything, and all the other stuff takes a back seat.” I run my hands through my hair. “He returned to school, but I knew he’d call. Or he’d come back for Christmas and tell me what an awful mistake he made letting me walk away. But he didn’t.”
Life happened instead.
“Why didn’t you go after him?”
I don’t want to lie. I’m not that good at it, but some lies are easy if the truth feels like torture. So I shrug and give him what I can without the pain making a jagged incision on my fragile scars.
“Because,” I say, “although I’m still single, I’m a sucker for romance. And when he walked into the store a few weeks ago, I felt all the things I felt that summer, including the heartbreak. He broke my heart. I wanted him to need me more than anything, but he didn’t. And that feeling doesn’t go away. All I can say for sure is I’m happy he’s back in my life, but I don’t think he can ever be my life.”
“Because he didn’t fight for you?”
I meet Koen’s gaze, heart heavy with melancholy. “Yeah,” I whisper. “And now I’ve met this guy. And I like him so much I can’t think straight.”
This elicits a tiny smile from him. “Don’t ask you where you get your protein. And fight for you. Got it.”
“Are you taking notes?”
He hops off the counter. “Diligently.”
I step into his embrace. “You need to get some sleep. You get up way earlier than I do. I should go.” I kiss the middle of his chest.
His lips press to the top of my head. “You should stay. And help yourself to breakfast in the morning. Stay as long as you want. But just … stay.”
I tip my head back, and he slides his fingers into my hair. “Koen, if you don’t stop touching me like this, we won’t sleep tonight.”
He grins, lowering his lips to mine. “Fuck sleep.”