11. Remi
eleven
Remi
Lucy’s car pulled up to the curb, and I climbed out still wearing the dark green slip dress and black heels from last night. My hair was a mess, and makeup had mostly survived but there were smudges under my eyes that told the whole story if anyone cared to look.
“Text me later, I love you!” Lucy called through the open window.
“I will, I love you too.”
She drove off and I walked up to the front door, fishing my keys out of my bag. The house was quiet when I stepped inside, but I could hear voices coming from the kitchen. I set my heels by the door and padded down the hall in bare feet.
Richard and my mother were sitting at the kitchen table with coffee mugs in front of them, both looking up when I walked in.
“Morning,” I said, trying to sound normal.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” Vivienne, my mother, said with a warm smile. “Did you have fun last night?”
“Yeah, it was good.”
Richard set his mug down and leaned back in his chair. “Remi, I wanted to let you know that Rio is coming to dinner tonight.”
I blinked. “Rio?”
“My son,” he said, his voice was quiet like he’d been carrying weight for a long time. “He’s been staying with a friend for a while, but we’ve been talking and he’s ready to come home. He’ll be staying in the guest suite tonight, and then tomorrow we’ll help him move his things in.”
Richard looked hopeful, almost nervous, and I understood immediately how much this meant to him and long he’d been waiting for this.
“That’s really great, Richard,” I said. “I’m happy for you.”
His face softened. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
My mother reached over and squeezed his hand. “It’ll be nice to have everyone together.”
“What time is he coming?” I asked.
“Around six. We’re doing dinner at seven.”
“Okay. I’ll be ready.”
I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and headed upstairs. My legs felt heavy but it was a good heavy. Last night written all over my body and I couldn’t even be mad about it.
I locked my bedroom door behind me and dropped my bag on the floor.
The dress came off first, then the bra, and I stood there for a second in just my underwear, staring at myself in the mirror.
There were faint marks on my hips where his hands had gripped me and a bruise forming on my collarbone that I hadn’t noticed last night.
I touched it and felt the memory of his mouth there.
The shower was hot enough to sting, and I stood under the spray with my eyes closed, letting the water run over my face and down my body. My muscles ached in places I hadn’t used in a while like my thighs, my lower back and between my legs, where I was still sore from how hard he’d fucked me.
I pressed my forehead against the tile and replayed it.
His hands on my throat, his mouth between my legs, and his tongue working me over until I came so hard, I couldn’t breathe.
The weight of him on top of me, inside me, filling me so completely I thought I might break.
The sound of his voice in my ear telling me I was perfect, telling me to take it, and telling me he wasn’t done with me yet.
I’d never felt anything like that before. I’ve never wanted someone that much or let someone have me like that.
And now I couldn’t stop thinking about when I’d see him again.
I washed my hair and scrubbed my body until my skin was pink, then stood under the water for another ten minutes just to relax. When I finally got out, I wrapped myself in a towel and wiped the steam off the mirror.
My phone was on the counter, and I was honestly sad to see that I had no new messages.
Fine.
He was probably busy and I’m sure I’d hear from him later.
I spent the next few hours in my room, half-watching a show on my laptop and half-thinking about Ryan and the other half about the dinner tonight with Richard’s son.
I wonder how strange it was going to be to sit at a table with someone who’d been a ghost in this house for as long as I’d lived here.
At five-thirty, I started getting ready.
I picked a black long-sleeve top that sat off one shoulder and a pair of high-waisted jeans. I did my makeup with more care than usual, lining my eyes in dark kohl and adding a deep red to my lips. My hair was still damp, so I let it air-dry into loose waves.
By the time I came downstairs at six, I looked put together.
Vivienne was in the kitchen finishing up dinner and Richard was setting the table. He looked up when I walked in and smiled.
“You look lovely,” he said.
“Thanks.”
“Rio should be here any minute.”
I nodded and leaned against the counter, watching Vivienne stir something on the stove.
The doorbell rang and Richard set down the last fork and headed for the front door. I stayed where I was, listening to the sound of the door opening and the low murmur of voices.
“Remi,” Richard called. “Come meet Rio.”
I walked down the hall and into the entryway.
And there he was.
Ryan.
Standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets.
Richard was smiling, oblivious. “Rio, this is Remi. Remi, this is my son, Rio.”
Rio’s mouth curved into a smirk, just for a second, just so only I could see.
“Hey,” he said.
Ryan was Rio. Rio was Ryan. The guy I’d spent last night with, the guy whose bed I’d woken up in this morning, the guy who’d fucked me so hard I could still feel it, was Richard’s son… My stepbrother.
I couldn’t breathe.
“Hi,” I managed.
Richard clapped Rio on the shoulder. “Come on in. Dinner’s almost ready.”
Rio stepped inside, and as he passed me his eyes locked on mine for just a beat too long. He knew. He’d known what we were before he came here tonight.
Dinner was going to be a nightmare.
We sat around the table with plates of food in front of us, and I couldn’t taste any of it. Vivienne was doing her best to make conversation, asking Rio about where he’d been staying, what he’d been doing, and if he was working.
“I’ve been crashing with a friend,” Rio said. “Cole. We’ve known each other for a few years.”
“That’s nice,” Vivienne said. “It’s good to have people you can rely on.”
“Yeah, he’s solid.”
Richard was watching Rio like he was afraid he might disappear if he looked away. “I’m really glad you’re here, son.”
“Me too,” Rio said, and I couldn’t tell if he meant it.
I sat there and said pretty much nothing. Every time Rio spoke, I felt my chest tighten. Every time he looked at me, I wanted to scream.
Vivienne turned her attention to me. “Remi, you’re quiet tonight. Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I said quickly. “Just tired.”
“Late night?” Rio asked, and there was the faintest fucking edge to his voice.
I looked at him and he was watching me like he had nothing to hide and everything to prove.
“Something like that,” I said.
Richard laughed. “College life. I remember those days.”
Vivienne smiled. “Well, it’s nice to have everyone together. This is what family dinners should be.”
I wanted to throw my plate across the fucking room.
Rio leaned back in his chair, completely at ease. “So, Remi, what do you do? Richard mentioned you’re in school.”
“Yeah. I’m taking a break for the year.”
“Smart. No point rushing into something you’re not sure about.”
“Right.”
“What do you do for fun?”
I stared at him. “I stream sometimes. Play games.”
“Yeah? What kind of games?”
“Dead by Daylight, mostly.”
His mouth twitched. “I’ve heard of that one.”
I’ll bet you fucking have.
The rest of dinner dragged on forever. Vivienne kept trying to draw Rio out, asking about his plans, his interests, and whether he’d thought about going back to school.
Richard chimed in here and there, clearly just happy to have his son at the table.
Rio answered everything with an ease, never giving too much and never seeming uncomfortable.
And there I sat there, barely holding it together.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Vivienne stood and started clearing plates.
“Why don’t you two go relax on the patio?” I said to her. “I’ll handle the dishes.”
“You sure?” Richard asked.
“Positive. Go enjoy your wine.”
Richard kissed her cheek and grabbed the bottle of red from the counter. “Come on, honey. Let’s give these two a chance to get to know each other.”
They walked out to the patio, and the door slid shut behind them.