Chapter Twenty
Remi
Iwas not having fun anymore.
I wasn’t even able to pretend that I was.
Sitting alone in a booth pounding water was a vibe—I was technically good to drive, at this point it wasn’t the alcohol affecting my judgment.
The skin on my chest still tickled where Alicia’s fingers had been.
She was laughing and talking with Emmett and the people he introduced her to.
I was a full head of hare-brained ideas.
She needed to know, right? It wasn’t fair for me to keep her in the dark that I couldn’t be just her friend.
It was unfair to let her believe I was capable of supporting her without the emotional turmoil and angst of wanting to repair our broken bond, of dreaming of a future where I could openly love her.
I would have to tell her, eventually. Not tonight.
There wasn’t much different between my blissful ignorance of that morning when I still believed that our relationship could be casual—as casual as our sexual chemistry would allow—and where I found myself now.
I’d come to my emotional realization, but other than that, everything was the same.
From my booth, I watched her wave goodbye, and I waited for relief to wash over me.
Instead, as she moved toward the door to leave I wrestled with the desire to follow her.
Give her space. Give yourself space.
It was good advice that I ignored. I launched out of my booth forcing myself to maneuver through the crowd at a reasonable pace and not move people out of my way.
Just because I could didn’t mean that I should.
The route gave me time to put together what to say.
There were three basic points: none of this was her fault, I would do a better job giving her distance, but I was still in love with her.
The last sentiment was a bit sticky. I was prepared to read the room, but I didn’t know how I could tell her the other two points without the context of the last point.
Alicia was a few feet from her car with her keys in her hand, when I exited the building.
Jogging, I closed the distance between us and called her name.
She turned, her arms crossed under her breasts, pushing them up against the V-neck of her sweater and all my thoughts burned out of my mind.
Sizzling into nothing as I came to a stop about five feet away from her.
I shoved my hands in my pocket to keep from reaching out, she looked cold and soft and . . . boobs.
Fuck.
She shivered once, her brown eyes silently nudging me.
“Shit, sorry,” I said but I wasn’t sure what I was apologizing for.
“It’s okay, what’s up?” Her body shuddered again.
I gripped the bottom of my thermal shirt and tugged it free from my jeans before even considering my actions.
“What are you doing?” she demanded through chattering teeth.
“Giving you my shirt.”
“No, don’t”—she cut off as I pulled the clothes over my head.
Shaking my hair out of my eyes, I was more aware of the cold now that I was only in a thin, white T-shirt.
I held the thermal toward her overly aware of her parted lips and her gaze moving from my chest, to my shoulders, to my biceps.
With slow distracted movements, she took the garment from me and tugged it over her head.
She had to be freezing still. So, I needed to say what was necessary and put the needed distance between us.
But finalizing my scattered thoughts into a cohesive statement, wasn’t going well.
Helpfully, when my shirt settled on her shoulders there might be an inch or two of her skin below her clavicle showing. Less distractions.
The top of her head broke through the neckline like fire burning through ash.
The tips of her fingers curled over the ends of the shirt sleeves and hugged the fabric against her chest. She brought the collar to her nose and breathed in lowering her eyelids for the barest moment, casting a spell and stealing my breath.
We stood stock still.
I was lost in a slide show of the times she’d bewitched me.
The first moment I’d laid eyes on her as a freshman in undergrad.
Pulling away from her after our first kiss with my heart pounding too loudly in my ears.
Her chin high as she wore her white wedding gown, the distance between us closing step by step and I knew at the soul of my being I’d never stop loving her.
How right that young man had been.
“Remi?” she spoke, her voice a soft mist of steam.
“Yeah,” I managed.
“What do you need?”
You.
I ran a hand down my face, letting it rest over my heart.
What did I need?
I had no idea, anymore.
Clearing my throat, I took a step back. “Uh . . .” Inside my mind, I scavenged through dusty corners to bring forward any thought that might be helpful in that moment. Because even though I’d followed after her hoping to gain distance, it was the last thing I wanted.
“Uh . . .” I said again before snapping my fingers when the idea came to me. “Your petition. I’ll put a copy at the clinic; can’t believe I didn’t think to offer sooner.”
The smile spread across her face looked a little relieved. “Thank you, that’d be a huge help.”
“Sure.” I cleared my throat. “I’ll . . . see you around.”
“I’m sure you will.”
My boot scraped on the worn asphalt putting my back to her.
I took quick steps back to the building, listening as she closed her drivers’ side door behind her and drove away.
Just outside the bar I changed my mind. Turning, I hurried to my vehicle.
Behind the wheel I pushed the button to start it, dialing Owen’s number simultaneously.
The phone rang so many times that I almost gave up on him answering.
“Hey,” he said in his usual relaxed way. In the background, Emmeline was having an argument with a number of other voices that I didn’t recognize.
“Hey, man,” I said, suddenly aware that I, once again, had no idea how to put everything into words. “You sound busy, I’ll let you go.”
“Nah, I’m good. Em’s cousin, and brother, and brother in-law are here but they’re good without me for a while. What’s up?”
I’d met Owen in vet school, and he might have a bad response to all things Alicia just like Hazel did.
I considered pretending like I just called to catch up but decided against it.
He knew more about my feelings over the past couple of years, about how I regretted the way my marriage ended and the role I played in it.
I hoped that was enough for him to keep a level head.
After a long pause, I admitted, “I’m messed up right now, man.”
“What about?” he asked even though I was sure he could make an assumption.
“I need you to be cool about it.”
He let out a long slow breath. “Alicia.”
I grunted an affirmation.
“Okay.” He sounded calm.
“I’m still in love with her.” It felt strange to say it out loud, even if it was so obvious. “And I just followed her out of a bar to tell her to stay away from me, I think.”
“You think?”
“I don’t know exactly what I was going to say, but I chickened out. It was something like, ‘I’m in love with you, and I’m gonna stay away from you, and you should stay away from me.’ ”
“Good thing you didn’t.”
“Is it?”
“Rem, that’s not a normal thing to say.”
“I can’t even tell anymore what’s normal and what isn’t.” I groaned sinking down in my seat. “Why’s it so bad?”
“What would be the purpose in telling her that?”
“So she can avoid me.”
“Why?”
“Because she thinks we’re friends.”
He was silent to the point that I wondered if the call had dropped. “What’s wrong with being friends? Being friends with the person you love is . . . There’s nothing better.”
“That’s sweet as hell and fucking annoying right now. And your situation is not the same as mine.”
“It isn’t.”
I stared out of my windshield watching people wander in and out of the bar. On my chest grew the weight of everything I’d lost, my twenty-nine-year-old self shouldn’t have been trusted to make decisions.
There was hesitation in Owen’s words when he spoke again.
“On the off-chance that this is helpful . . . you gave me advice once to swallow my pride. I don’t know if I’m cool with you and Alicia, but I don’t want you to keep regretting never telling her .
. . whatever it is you need to tell her.
Except for, ‘I love you, stay away from me.’ ”
“I don’t think that’s helpful.”
“Okay, pretend I didn’t say anything.”
He said goodbye when his fiancé called for him, and I drove home with my mind too loud to make out any one thought.
Putting my car in park under the carport, I took in the golden light filtering through Alicia’s bedroom curtains.
Just knowing she was in there—possibly naked—was enough to get me hard.
I considered for a moment tossing pebbles at her window but decided it would probably land at creepy and not romantic.
Then there was the issue that I’d become a stammering teenager, instead of the grown ass man I used to embody.
There was a time, not that long ago, I had some fucking game.
Not anymore.
It only took a few minutes for me to get ready for bed, if Bliss hadn’t demanded my attention the whole time it would have gone faster.
But eventually I lay flat on my back, staring at the ceiling with my covers draped across me.
Inhaling deeply, I caught the slightest whiff of a scent.
And just like that the specter of Alicia was lying next to me, her hair a sprawling mess on the pillows.
I was surrounded by her in my thoughts, in my memory, and in the smell of clove lingering in my bed.
Slipping my hand under the waistband of my joggers and pushing them down to my upper thighs, I gripped my hard cock, giving it one firm stroke.
My eyes closed in relief.
I couldn’t satisfy my need for her, but I could quiet it.
Pausing just long enough to pump lotion into my palm I started again.
With each pull up and push down, my breathing grew heavier, my heartbeat pulsed in my grip, and I tried to recall exactly how she tasted.
There was a rhythmic buzzing in my ear that called for my attention, but I stayed focused on the combination of reminiscence and fantasy playing out behind my eyelids.
Until I heard her throaty moan.
I froze mid-stroke.
Had I imagined it? Was I slipping that far into my mind?
All my attention was now outside of myself and focused on the buzzing—coming from the other side of the wall.
Fuck, I mouthed, throwing my covers off of me. Suddenly too hot.
Little creaks from her mattress carried through to my room, as well.
I pictured it. Her rocking her hips into her vibrator.
I saw it in such clear detail it was like I was there standing at the foot of her bed watching.
My cock twitched, and my grip flexed. I slipped my hand all the way off my head to push to my base.
My toes curled. Everything drew tighter within me.
She groaned longer and a little louder. Cum dripped from my tip onto my wrist.
I wondered if she was watching something, or if like me, she just needed to think about us. Was she picturing my hands on her ass? Her tit in my mouth? My tongue on her clit? Was she wearing my shirt? Surrounded in my scent.
Give it back to me with your teeth marks in it.
Her moans and whimpers grew less controlled, her climax nearing.
Cum rushed under my palm as I grew closer too.
She cried out, a sound that rang in my ears before falling silent. I bit my teeth together, stroking hard—my bicep and forearm flexed.
It was silent in her room, until she let out a self-deprecating giggle. “God, I need to be fucked.”
Cum spilled across my stomach in pulses. I sucked in deep breaths. Blood roared in my ears, but I could still hear her say, “That fucking man.”
I needed to be the man she was talking about.