Chapter 18
A lex
Late November
I’m usually a calculated man. I weigh the pros and cons of a decision before I make it. I look at all angles of a situation before determining the best outcome. All my life, I’ve known what I wanted to achieve, and how I wanted to achieve it. Hell, I knew the moment I laid eyes on Sara that I’d marry her, and had a plan in place after only a few dates on how to make that a reality.
But Natalie? Fucking hell. This woman has me off kilter every moment of the damn day. I’m pissed off, turned on, and aggravated at the same time. I want to take her over my knee for disrupting my life, kiss the hell out of her, and then see if I can fuck my feelings away.
I never know what she’s going to say, how she’s going to act, or what I might do in return. And yet, when I see her in one piece, sitting at her parents’ table, I’m shocked at the thing I feel the most: relief.
She’s alive.
She’s okay.
I spiraled on the drive up to Greeley, thinking about every worst-case scenario I could think of. I studied every set of tire tracks on the road, worried I’d find her Challenger stuck in a ditch. Clearly I have some PTSD about car accidents I need to deal with.
Natalie’s eyes are red-rimmed and puffy, and her brother is glaring at me from the chair beside her, but she’s here. I take a deep exhaling breath, one I didn’t know I’d been holding since she tore out of my house hours ago .
It took me a few minutes to realize I needed to go after Natalie, and I had to get my kids situated before I could head out. By the time I arrived at her apartment, she’d already left. I quickly texted Arianna, who assured me she tracked Natalie’s location as a safety precaution, and told me Natalie was on the interstate heading toward Denver. We accurately assumed she was coming to Greeley to see her parents, although I didn’t expect to find her brother here as well.
“Sorry for interrupting,” I stammer, suddenly aware they’re all staring at me.
Natalie sighs, a sound full of resignation, and she turns away from me as she gestures to her family. “It’s fine. Mom, Dad, this is Alex, the baby daddy. Shawn, you clearly remember him.”
“What’s up, motherfucker,” Shawn says, a glint of evil shining in his eyes. Jesus. They’re the same shade as Natalie’s eyes, and that may take some getting used to.
“Shawn! Ignore my son. I’m Mark Jackson. You’ve met my wife, Judy,” Mr. Jackson says, standing to offer me a handshake. “Please, come sit down.”
“Actually, I was hoping to speak with Natalie, if that’s okay,” I say. I see her spine straighten as she looks to her brother. They appear to have an unspoken conversation, and it reminds me of my twin siblings, Gia and Leo. When I see Shawn nod, Natalie lets out another loud sigh before pushing back from the table.
“Why don’t you take him upstairs to your room, sweetheart?” Mrs. Jackson says cheerfully. She pats me on the shoulder as she scoots past Natalie to sit beside her husband.
“Come on, let’s get this over with,” Natalie mutters sullenly. I smother the chuckle that’s threatening to burst from my mouth as I follow her up the staircase and into her bedroom.
“Holy …” I look around the room as Natalie takes a seat on the bed. A four-poster bed, complete with a lacy canopy. A kaleidoscope of colors covers each wall. A record player sits in the corner, and vintage album sleeves are adhered to the wall in two columns. Looking across her bed, I see a dresser and mirror, with post-its taped to the mirror. Some are inspirational sayings, but others are all about body image an d weight loss. Fuck. I hate that. Fucking hate that even then, Natalie thought of herself as less than.
“What?” she whispers.
“Oh. I don’t think a room could exist that describes you better than this.”
“How?”
I think about how to respond. “Chaotically comfortable.”
She frowns for a split second before a snort escapes. “Chaotic comfort.”
“Yeah. There’s a lot going on in here, but that’s you. I’d never describe you as bland or beige. You’re colorful. Outgoing and full of pizzazz. But you’re empathetic and loving. You wear your heart on your sleeve, even when you know it’s going to hurt you. You’re comfortable in your personality.”
“I don’t know about that,” she mutters. “Say what you want to say, and then you can leave. You could have just called, you know.”
“Oh, sure. Not that you would have answered.”
“I might have.”
“Don’t lie.”
“Well, I would have listened to the voicemail,” she snaps.
“I don’t even believe that.”
“Alex, just get on with it, okay? I don’t see a reason to be in each other’s company any longer than needed. You don’t need to rub it in any further.” I notice the gleam in her eyes even before she realizes she’s crying, and I resist the urge to wipe away her tears.
“Rub what in any further?” I ask.
“That I’m not … her. That I’m not up to par. I get it, okay? Nothing will ever match up with what you had. Just say whatever it is that had you thinking it was worth it to drive all the way up here.” Crossing her arms, Natalie looks miserable. Her full lower lip, a lip that I’ve thought about too much, sticks out in an adorable pout. She’s still wearing my shirt.
She’s still wearing my shirt.
“Alex? Are you okay?”
I shake my head as I stare at her. She’s wearing a bra now, which means she consciously chose to put my shirt back on. What the hell does that mean?
“You’re kinda freaking me out here,” she whispers. Dammit. I’m losing my mind.
“You’re the opposite of her. Sara, I mean. You’re the exact opposite,” I blurt out.
Natalie frowns. “Duh.”
“Shit. I didn’t mean that as a bad thing. It’s just —” I stop, ripping a hand through my hair in frustration. I don’t know how to explain a goddamned thing. “Sara was quiet. Peaceful. Easy. We vibed immediately. We never fought.”
“I’m aware of all of this, Alex. Really. You didn’t need to drive up here to tell me I don’t measure up.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, dropping to my knees at her feet. “It was easy with her, Nat. And yeah, you aren’t easy. You challenge me. You make me question things. One second I think you need to be tied to a damn chair so that you’ll listen, and the next moment, I want to tie you to my fucking bed so I can have my way with you. And I don’t know how to deal with that difference. I spent a decade loving a woman who was simple, quiet, and kind. I don’t know how to categorize how I feel about you.”
Eyes wide as she stares at me incredulously, Natalie doesn’t make a sound, so I continue. “This morning? I knew it was you. I did. Not only because of how you felt in my arms, but your hair smells like vanilla, and I think about that all the damn time. Sara used grapefruit shampoo. Or maybe it wasn’t grapefruit. Maybe it was just citrus. I never thought about her shampoo, but I sure as fuck think about yours. The sounds you make are different too. When you came, I was thinking how right it felt, having you in my arms, and how different it was from Sara. Somehow my dumbass brain spouted out her name. But I swear, Natalie, I knew it was you. I’ll apologize over and over again until you believe me.”
“That’s not at all what I thought you were going to say,” she finally responds, her voice so quiet I almost don’t hear her. I smile softly as I place my hands next to hers on the bed, still unsure of things. I feel like I want to touch her, to kiss her, but I’m incredibly confused.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I confess, closing my eyes as my head falls until my chin touches my chest. “When Sara died, I thought my life was over. I knew I’d never want to be with anyone else. No one would compare, right? But then you basically came into my life like a wrecking ball, and you don’t compare. It’s like bananas and onions. Completely different categories. And I’m having difficulty coming to terms with that.”
I don’t realize Natalie has leaned forward until her forehead rests against me. “I believe you. And I’m sorry for what I said about competing with a ghost. That was completely out of line. I was hurt and I lashed out.”
Her hair is like a blanket around us, the very vanilla scent I love giving me a feeling of peace. “Did you think you were competing? I didn’t understand that.”
“I don’t want to compete with her, Alex. She’s your wife. I get that she’s in a league of her own. But I feel like when we take one step forward, whether that be as friends, co-parents, or … more, then we take five steps back. It’s exhausting not knowing where you’re at, and I’m so anxious about upsetting you that I don’t know how to act anymore. Can I ask about Sara? Do you expect me to raise our child the same way you raised yours with her? Should I have any relationship with Abbie and Ben outside of school, or is our child completely separate? Do you want to have specific parameters for our interactions? What if I want more with you? When the baby comes, how are we handling this? So many unknowns, and sometimes it’s too much.”
“Do you — do you want more with me?” I ask, my heart beating so wildly I wonder if Natalie can hear it. I realize, right at this moment, that I want her to say yes, and that scares the shit out of me.
“I think I do, but I don’t think you’re ready for that,” she says, and my bubble bursts.
“Oh,” I respond, oddly hurt.
“I want us to be friends. No matter what may happen, we’re in each other’s lives for the next eighteen plus years. I want to know I can count on you, and that we’ll support one another through everything. I’d like to get to know you better.”
“Why are you still wearing my shirt?” I blurt out.
Natalie’s gaze looks slightly terrorized before she schools her expression. “I didn’t change before I came up here.”
“You’re wearing a bra,” I point out.
Pink creeps up her face, and I can’t resist reaching out to trace a finger down her jawline. Natalie involuntarily shivers, but she doesn’t make a move. I’m spellbound, powerless to move, taking in the facets of her face as my hand slides back into her hair. Gripping it tightly, Natalie gasps as I tilt her head to expose the length of her neck. “I think you chose to put my shirt back on because you wanted me wrapped around you.”
I watch as a silent war rages in her gaze. She wants me, but also doesn’t want to admit it. God, I really admire her spirit and tenacity, even when it’s mostly directed at me.
“It’s not you,” she finally says, lying straight through her teeth. A grin spreads across my face as she continues. “Do you have any idea what these fucking hormones are doing to me? I’m finally not puking all the time, and all I want is sex. All the damn time. It’s not fair, you know? My toys don’t seem to work for me like they used to. Plus the stupid apartment walls are crazy thin, and my neighbor commented on hearing me only talking a couple days ago, so now I feel like I’m this building pariah that everyone hates. I know I get loud when I come, so I should try to dial it down now, and it’s nowhere near as good as it could be, and especially not as good as it was with you — you’re really good at sex, by the way — but what am I supposed to do? It’s like a nonstop itch on the middle of my back that I can’t reach, except it’s my vagina and I just need to get off all the fucking time .”
“Woah,” I breathe, throwing my head back into raucous laughter. “That’s definitely not what I thought you’d say, either.”
“This is all your fault, you know.” Natalie crosses her arms in her lap, bottom lip sticking out again in a perfect pout, and I resist the urge to lean forward and bite it .
“I know.”
“How the hell did this even happen? I was on the pill, and you used a condom.”
Oh shit. “About that. I forgot to tell you that the condom ripped.”
“Seriously?” she shouts, grabbing a pillow and hitting me on the head. It’s such an unexpected move that I lose my balance, toppling over onto the floor. “You’re telling me this now? Three months after the fact? Don’t you think you should have told me immediately, or maybe the next day?”
“In my defense, I didn’t realize it until I got home, and then I honestly forgot about it. Since I hadn’t heard from you, I figured we were in the clear.”
“Obviously not,” Natalie growls, picking up another pillow and chucking it at me. “Stupid men and their stupid choices. What the fuck, Alex?”
Another pillow whooshes past my head. “How many pillows do you have up there? That one almost hit me — damn, are there bricks in this one? That fucking hurt, Sunflower.”
“I swear to God, you better tell me why you call me that, or I’m gonna …”
I grab her wrist before she pelts me again. Raising an eyebrow, I ask, “Or what?”
Natalie’s eyes narrow, her lips purse into a straight line, and one hell of a growl emanates from her body as she launches at me. Not expecting such a sudden movement, she catches me completely off guard, and I go down hard, slamming my elbow and head onto the floor. I can’t even react to the pain searing up my arm, because Natalie sticks her hand between my thighs and digs her fingers into the spot about three inches above my knee. That spot just so happens to be the most ticklish spot on my body, and only a few people know about it. “I’m going to kill my sister!”
“Not if you can’t get up,” Natalie says cheerfully, swiveling to get the other thigh. Two can play at this game. I dig my thumbs into her waist, and she immediately shrieks, stiffens, and falls to the side. I push out an arm to cushion her fall, ensuring her stomach doesn’t hit, and then silence. At the same time, our heads turn toward each other, and we burst into laughter. It’s the kind of laughter that wracks my entire body, and I can’t remember the last time I laughed this hard. As our laughter trails off, Natalie winces as she grabs at her foot. “Somehow my shoe came off and my foot hit the bed frame. Ow.”
“Here.” I motion for her to give me her foot, and when I dig my fingers into the arch, Natalie lets out a loud moan. Reaching over, I slap a hand over her mouth. “Maybe dial down the porn moans, babe. I’d rather your parents not think I’m fucking the anger out of you in your childhood bedroom.”
“Don’t promise something you can’t deliver on, Alessio.” The wicked glint is back in her eyes as she gazes at me. This Natalie I know. The one who takes it as well as she dishes it out. The broken and crushed Natalie from before is thankfully long gone. I don’t think she’s called me Alessio since our night together, which makes my dick take notice. Before I can process that, Natalie jumps to her feet. “Come on. I bet you haven’t had breakfast yet, and my mom’s quiche is definitely worth the drive.”
“I may not be able to enjoy it if your brother kills me first,” I mutter as I rise to stand next to her. Damn, my elbow is throbbing where I hit the floor.
“Eh. He’s all bark. My mother will chop off your balls and feed them to the chickens next door if you hurt me, though.”
I stiffen as I study Natalie, trying to gauge how serious she is. When she smiles sweetly at me, I chuckle. “Apple doesn’t fall far from that violent tree, huh.”
“Nope.”