CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Brunch and Burning Thoughts
SERENITY
Lake and I saw a line in the sand and brushed it off, pushing it into waves until the line no longer existed. We got into an argument, and our resolution finished with him in my bed and nothing between us. It’s been replaying in my mind ever since.
We haven’t talked about it. I woke up to an empty house, and before Lake got home from rehab, I was called into the ER early and took the truck. I came back to a fresh meal tucked away in the fridge for me, but no Lake. He had gone to bed.
So I’ve been processing. At least, trying to process. Each time I try to sit with my feelings, my mind wanders to daydreams about Lake’s heavy, muscle-full body on top of me. And now, with little progress made, we’re under one roof. Bound to run into each other.
I don’t know if Lake regrets what happened between us. I don’t even know how I feel about it. Having sex demolishes the line of me being his fake wife.
There’s the whole marriage sham thing, and then there’s me. I’m not the opening-up type. I like when others talk to me, but I suck at talking to other people. My parents crapped on me enough without me ever speaking, and I know Lake isn’t the greatest communicator.
My feelings are cluttered, and I have no idea how to approach him. I don’t know what any of this means or what I want it to mean.
Maybe Lake and I having sex was just a onetime thing, but he did text me that morning. He let me know where he was, and he’s been sending me more texts like that since. As if he’s making a change. An effort. He’s letting me know our fight met more than just spending the night with me.
I take a sip of my coffee, pondering my thoughts, but I flinch when I burn the tip of my tongue.
This morning I came downstairs and didn’t smell coffee wafting through the kitchen. In Lake’s defense, I am downstairs earlier than usual, and I shouldn’t be relying on him to keep me from reaching starvation.
Literally on cue, I hear Lake stomping into the hallway, charging for the stairs, and I burn my tongue again. Panic flutters in my chest, so I spin to the sink and dump my entire coffee down the drain.
“Why in the world?” I shake my head and lower my mug into the sink. No plan and now no coffee. Perfect.
“Serenity?”
I spin back around and hug my body against the sink like I’m trying to hide contraband. Lake raises an eyebrow. He plays with the drawstrings on the front of his pants. My eyes struggle between his face and moving hands.
He says, “sorry I didn’t make breakfast.”
My shoulders soften, and I study his face. His hair is messier than usual and eyes are bagged and dark. They can’t stay focused. And his fidgeting, but he’s not trying to stimulate his brain. The aggressive tugging at his drawstrings is him attempting to calm his head.
His fingers squeeze the white string. “Grab brunch with me?”
Each day, I get better at reading Lake Phoenix, but I don’t want him to realize that. I don’t want him to know I can hear the trace of desperation in his voice.
He can’t understand the ins and outs of himself, but I do, and he’s broken so many walls. He’s a blueprint. I’d hate for him to change the plans without me.
So instead of asking what’s wrong, I smile. “Of course.”
***
Lake sits across from me at Sunnyside diner, a family-owned restaurant with the best spongy pancakes and golden-colored home fries.
When we pulled into the parking lot, he told me this was his favorite diner, and I squealed because this place is my favorite, too. But somehow our paths never crossed during the countless times we ate here.
He sighs, a tiny grin playing on his lips before he leans over the table and sticks his thumb in the center of my cheek. The syrup globs on his skin like blood from a needle prick, and he hooks his thumb between his teeth and sucks the drizzled stickiness.
It takes only a second for heat to rush to my cheeks. Everything he does seems so familiar. As if he’s cleaned syrup from my face thousands of times.
I reach for a napkin to swipe it across my lips, but Lake shakes his head. “Angel, I got it all.”
I take another moment to compose myself. I know my cheeks are boiling to the color of crimson, and Lake won’t stop grinning about it.
He jabs his fork into his eggs and pops a fluffy piece into his mouth. His hand is steady, and his leg is barely tapping against the table. He’s not nervous anymore, because his fidgeting is gentle and purely to occupy his brain—not because something’s bugging him.
I could take the opportunity to figure out where we stand, but I choose to use his calmness to make sure he’s okay. “Was something upsetting you this morning?”
In classic Lake style, he avoids my question. “Eager to change the topic, Mrs. Scarlet?”
My lips twitch, but I slump and I glance at the people scattered around the diner, lost in their own conversations, stuffing their faces with fresh batches of pancakes and springy eggs.
The easy flirting puts me in a mind of peace.
I like when my husband flirts with me; I like my husband, but I’m not supposed to, and that’s troubling my head. The deeper we stroll into whatever this is, the scarier it’ll be to find my way out if he isn’t by my side.
“Look at me, Angel.”
I smile, because I can’t look at him, and he knows why. He knew swiping that syrup off of my face would throw me into a spicy descent. One where I recall him towering over my body, and echoing rooted confessions.
“Serenity.” He shifts his leg forward until his foot is resting on mine.
Oh Gosh. Pull it together.
I stare at an elderly couple to muster an ounce of composure. I rest my head on my locked hands and snap my eyes back to Lake. “Aren’t you the one trying to change topics?”
His eyes widen, and his little smile turns into a toothful-smirk. He leans back into the booth and puts more of his weight into the foot resting on mine.
“Just fine now, Angel.”
I narrow my eyes, and he copies me, but once I stay silent and don’t lift my fork—when I refuse to break away, a sigh leaves Lake’s lungs, and he caves. “Brooks offered me a job at his company. I’m planning to try out a shift. Already plotting to take it on permanently, though.”
I lower my forearms until they’re resting on the table. “Really? That’s amazing, Lake. I’m so proud of you.”
It’s crazy to believe he’s the same man from a month ago. Then, he had no intention of getting sober, let alone living much longer.
He hums. “So, got a job. On a date, and now you can’t complain when I pay for it.”
“Date?” I choke.
“What else would this be, Angel?” He tilts his head.
“I don’t know, I was wondering—” I stumble. “The other night—”
I go quiet as Lake glances out the diner window, smiling in the sunlight. His rolled-up sleeves allow his scars to breathe. I’ve never seen him openly show his arms in public. Not since he left Boston Hope, but here he sits, in all his handsome glory.
I open my mouth to speak, but his attention slips elsewhere, and he springs up from our booth. “Be right back.”
“What? Where are you going?”
I stay in my seat and watch him push open the door to the diner, the tiny bell ringing above his head. Once the last of him is out of sight, I spin my awareness to the window.
Lake jogs across the empty street, and my heart flutters around in my chest as he lands himself at a tiny flower stand, right across from the diner.
I scoot closer to the window and press my nose against the glass. The world slows its pace. He looks at the assortment of fresh flowers, and his firm forearms tense and flex as he points at different ones. His chestnut hair glows in the sunlight, reflecting each strand as a unique shade of brown. Then he squats down and hands the stand owner three fresh daffodils.
The stand owner has a massive grin on his face. He wraps up the flowers in brown paper, thanking Lake as he pulls out a bundle of bills to pay for the pretty flowers.
Lake looks both ways before he dashes back to the diner. Still j-walking, but another sign he’s taking his life more seriously, and maybe enjoying it, too.
My heart goes from fluttering to booming against my ribs when the bell dings from behind me.
“Here, Angel.” He hands me the flowers. “I told you it was a date.”
“Thank you.” My cheeks flush, and I try to hide it by bringing the flowers to my nose and sniffing. “I haven’t gotten flowers in ages. I think since my highschool prom.”
He goes back to his side of the booth. “You gotta be lying.”
“No.” I shake my head. “But thank you. First date flowers.”
There’s the three daffodils, yellow ones, like the bouquet I put in Lake’s room. Two pink tulips, a lily flower, baby’s breath, of course, peonies and daisies.
“That’s not the reason, Serenity.” His foot goes back to mine. “I got them because I’m proud of you, too.”
I peer up from the flowers at him. There are no butterflies in my stomach. Just a calmness, and a bright yellow happiness mixed between. This is a new feeling for me. I can say that with certainty. It scares me, but I like who I am with Lake, and I like how he is with me.
Without breaking eye contact, he asks, “are you done eating?”
I drop my gaze to his plate. “Lake, you’ve only had half of yours. Are you full?”
His tiny waves sway to each side.
I frown, because I thought he liked this place. It bothers me he’s sat here for over an hour, watching me groan in delight over my meal. “Do you not like it?”
He shakes his head again. “It’s good. I want something else.”
He fixates his warm gaze on my mouth, and the longer he stares, the more I melt into liquid. I part those same lips to insist he eats, and to likely fail at getting him to listen, but Lake flags down a waiter before I speak.
The waiter half-forces a grin. “Yes, sir?”
I suck in an unhealthy amount of air when Lake’s eyes don’t leave me. “Two containers, and our bill, please.”
The waiter reaches down and picks up our plates. “Alright, I’ll have these packed, and I’ll be back with the bill.”
We should talk about how we’re feeling. We should at least attempt to draw a new line, but… I want him to kiss me again.
“Oh, wait.” I hold up two fingers, “can we split—”
Lake’s foot drives up my leg, pressing firm against my kneecaps. “One bill,” he says sternly. “I’m paying. No complaining.”
“Phoenix.” I struggle.
“I asked you to breakfast, Serenity.” He drops his foot, and my core turns into a billion little knots. “Even if I didn’t, I’d be paying.”
I want his foot back. I need him closer. Screw talking. I don’t want to talk about my crush on him. I want to act on it.
“What are you doing to me, Phoenix?”
He leans over the table. “You started this, so get used to the spoiling.”
***
Lake’s knuckles glow white as his hand grips the steering wheel.
Somehow we escaped the diner, which was challenging enough, but now we’re stuck at another red light. If we keep pausing at every light, waiting to make it home might just kill me.
Every time the truck slows, I feel myself slipping away. We had one night together. One. A night we have yet to talk about, but I’m watching him lose his patience next to me, and all I want is to end his suffering by kissing him.
I can’t believe Lake Phoenix is exhibiting more self-control than me right now. He’s trying his best to keep it together so he can get us home, but home is too far away. I sit up in my seat and click my seatbelt, swinging it off of my body.
Lake’s eyes flick to me, then his rear-view mirror, and back to the road. “What are you doing?”
I stay quiet. My thumb and pointer finger find the zipper on my sweater, and I reef it down. I pull it off and chuck it into the backseat. Then I kick off my muddy boots and sit up higher on my knees.
“Serenity.” He bites on the inside of his cheek and squirms in his seat.
“Thank you for paying for my breakfast, Lake.” Flowers and meals. He says he wants to spoil me, and his actions are following his words, so why not return the favor? I rub my palms against my stomach under my long-sleeve shirt. “I want you closer now, but you’re busy driving.” The clasp on my bra opens, and I unclip the straps, sneaking it out from under my shirt.
Lake anxiously hovers his eyes between the same three spots. Me, the mirror, and the road. “You can’t wait?” he asks.
The truck rolls to a stop at another red light, and I squint my eyes before shifting my attention back to him. “I can’t, Phoenix.”
I pinch my shirt between my fingers and drag it upward. Keeping him on his toes is the only thing giving me sanity right now. He does one last mirror check and then holds his eyes on me, but before I can show him anything, he jerks the truck to the right and keeps me against the seat with a hand so I won’t tumble.
“I don’t want anyone to see you,” he admits.
My heart thuds, and the chemicals in my brain urge me to settle in on his mouth. He needs to be closer to me, and I need his touch.
Lake makes a few more aggressive turns before reaching a vast parking lot, and he parks the truck in the far back. The parking lot is one of three, all of them are connected. The hardware store is under renovation, so most of the parking lot is empty. Particularly in this area, where the road’s view is blocked by overgrown trees.
He falls back into his seat as he cuts the engine. Then his eyes take their time to travel to me, but the moment our gazes connect, he’s driving himself over the console and I’m pushing closer to meet him there.
Lake’s hand grabs my hair, and he makes me to look right at him. I cannot take it anymore, so I clash our mouths together, and my body ignites like a firecracker. I moan into his mouth, shoving my knees into the console to get just a fragment closer to him.
“Lake.” I exhale. “Lake, I need you.”
He forces me even closer until he can reach well enough around my back, then he pulls me with both his hands into his lap. “There you go, Angel.” He pushes at my waist to urge me further down, and I settle into his lap.
I’ve never encountered this much passion, and it only multiplies as our lips knit back together. Nobody has ever desired me the way he does. He makes it obvious that he wants me, but the way he goes about showing it is deeper. Stronger.
“You’re gonna stay here in my lap, baby,” he tells me. “You’re gonna let me keep kissing you.” He digs his fingers into my skin and urges my head closer. “And You’re gonna take this like the woman you are, and let me kiss you until we can get home, because I am not fucking you in this truck where someone might see you.”
I almost combust and return to the earth right then and there. Deeper. Stronger. And a lot more sweet. He’s that adamant about keeping me protected, that he won’t take me here. Just in case.
There is a loud hunger in his eyes and his erection isn’t helping either of us keep control, but here he is, keeping us both steady, because I am worth more than car sex to him.
He glides his thumb over my cheek. “I should’ve taken my time with you the other night, Angel.”
My head sways. “The other night—”
“I could’ve been more patient,” he says. “Now these stupid streetlights wanna drive me crazy, so I’m gonna kiss you till I get enough composure to not smash every damn light in the city, then I’ll take care of you at home.”
I tuck in my bottom lip, but a giggle still escapes me. “Okay, Phoenix.”
He cuts off my laughter by slamming our mouths together another time, and my hands fly to his shoulders to balance out the weight of staying steady. He pumps his tongue into my mouth like he owns it, and honestly, right now, he does.
“There you go, Angel,” he rasps. “Don’t squirm. Let me show you the woman you are.”
“What—” I kiss him again. “What kind of woman am I?”
“One that I’m proud of. One you should be proud of.”
I can’t respond to that or register how happy it makes me before he grabs my hair again, pulls back my head, and sinks his teeth into my neck. I detonate from the aggressive sensation and claw into his flesh.
“Lake,” I whimper.
“You are gorgeous, Serenity.” His voice is vibrating against my skin. All his kisses are darting around every inch of my neck and collarbone. His touch is making all the knots throughout me sever, and my body melts right into him. So I almost miss the last word he says, but I somehow still catch it. “Addicting.”
That word, and that word alone, gives me the courage to charge my hand to the side of his seat, and I force it to recline, dropping us both further back. I crawl over him. He goes to speak, but I dab my finger over his lips and silence him. He lets me return all the kisses he pressed into my flesh.
The bouquet right next to our heads fills the car with fresh scents and the glow of something new. I could pull back now and ask him a billion more questions about what we’re doing. I could dwell on the lingering worry that I feel myself falling and the word ‘like’ is too weak of a word, but I don’t. Instead, I stay present with him.
I glide my tongue along his jawline and sink myself closer to his body. His hands loosen on my hips, like he’s losing the ability to control the situation and getting lost in me the same way I just was in him.
This is what I needed. He can insist on paying for my meals and cleaning my house all he wants. I’m only letting it happen if I’m allowed to make him feel like this. Peaceful and cared for.
He rolls his palms up around my ribs, and he grumbles. “Too much."
I plant more kisses down his neck. “What’s too much Lake?”
He wails my name, sending banging chills down my spine. “I kiss you, not the other way around.” Then his eyes flutter shut as I land a peck over the middle of his chest.
“No, Phoenix.” I shake my head and shift over to his left ear. “I can kiss you, too.”
Somehow, with some sort of inner strength, he claps his hands onto my hips and flips us around before I can do so much as blink. He breathes every bit of peace back into my lungs, and I try to moan parts of it back into him.
He smiles against my lips. “Good girl, Serenity.”
I fasten my legs around his waist, and we stay there, fully clothed, yet somehow still entirely intertwined together. His rapid heartbeat thuds against my chest, and I grab onto his head to kiss him even harder, just to keep that life flowing through him.