by Marni Mann
Smith: You were correct about his condition. He overdosed.
Me: I’m just glad he’s going to be okay.
Smith: I don’t think I ever thanked you for what you did. If you hadn’t come along, I don’t know if Joe would still be alive. He knows that—I’ve told him about you—and he’s grateful as hell.
Me: I’m happy I could help.
I set my phone back on my lap, and as I stared at the TV, I wondered if Smith would look at my pictures. If he’d want to know more about the person who’d assisted him in the alley.
There were only about twenty shots on my page.
They were all of sunny days.
That was the only reason I kept my profile public.
Smith: Joe isn’t in a place where he can thank you appropriately, but I can, and I’d like to. How about dinner? You pick the spot, and I’ll be there.
I finished reading his message and set my cell on the nightstand. I pressed the different buttons on the tablet that would shut the blinds and turn off the TV. Then, I tucked the blanket over my head while I tightened my body into a ball.
Even though it was dark under the covers, I looked across the mattress at the unwrinkled bottom sheet, at the coldness that I would feel if I touched his spot.
What the fuck have I done?
Twelve
Dylan
Three Years and One Month Ago
Alix and I were standing outside Quincy Market, holding our to-go boxes of chocolate cake, opened, with several forkfuls missing from each piece. I’d asked about her shift, which had started at midnight, and she was telling me about one of the calls she had been on. It involved an elderly couple, married for sixty-seven years. The husband had fallen down a short flight of stairs. Alix believed he had fractured his hip.
She stared at the cake as she spoke.
And I gazed at her, checking out the way she speared off another bite.
How she stuck the fork between her lips.
How the utensil came out of her mouth clean.
It was incredibly sexy.
So was she.
She didn’t even have to try. It came natural to her.
As natural as her looks.
A beauty that went so deep, she didn’t need makeup to enhance it.
She didn’t wear much of it anyway. There wasn’t anything on her lips, no color on her lids, just thick lashes and some pink on her cheeks.
She had no idea how gorgeous she was.
If I told her, I was sure she wouldn’t believe me.
Alix’s confidence came when she talked about her job.
I could tell how much she loved it by the passion in her voice, by the way she described how she’d helped the old man.
What she did was something I hadn’t been able to visualize at first. Now that I’d spent more time with her, it was all I could see.
Damn it, I wanted to touch her.
I’d kept my hands off of her while she was eating the gyro and fries.
But I didn’t want to wait any longer.
Once she swallowed the mouthful, I said, “Alix …”
I needed her eyes on me to see the way she would look at me, how she would respond to the sound of my voice.
That would determine if I could reach for her right now or if I’d have to wait.
Her stare slowly lifted and landed on mine.
Shyness was peeking through her expression.
Still, every sign was there—the desire in her glare, the increased breathing, the way her tongue was swiping across her lips. It wasn’t frosting she was licking off because there wasn’t any there.
I dropped the small box of cake on the ground.
She didn’t watch it fall, but when she heard the sound, I saw the hunger in her grow.
I took a step.
She did, too, in the opposite direction at the same time she dropped her cake.
She said nothing as I continued to move toward her, backing her up to the side of the building until her body was pressed against it.
As I stood inches away, I lifted my hands to the top of her head where they pushed into the brick. “You can stop me.”
Her voice was soft, not weak, as she looked up at me and said, “I’m not sure I can.”
She’d responded the same way when I met her at the train station.
I had known what she meant then.
And again here, especially when her fingers went to my sides, holding them, using them to pull me toward her.
My head dipped.
My mouth sought hers.
Our lips touched.
A feeling came across my entire fucking body.
I couldn’t let go of her.
That was why both palms dropped to her face, and I held her cheeks so tightly. Why, with every inhale, I kissed her even deeper. Why my hard-on was throbbing inside these suit pants.
She was the reason for every reaction.
My tongue found hers.
Her back arched, and her body leaned into mine.
My hand dropped to the side of her neck.
I took in her scent. It was a clean smell that had a hint of lemon.
I dragged my lips away but pressed my nose against hers.
I felt myself reaching for air, unable to get enough in.
She was doing the same.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
I hadn’t been prepared for that.
There was no way to summarize how the taste of Alix Rayne running through my body had become the most incredible sensation.
All I knew was that I needed more.
But more just couldn’t happen here.
I pulled my face away, keeping one hand on her cheek, the other on her neck.
Her eyes gradually climbed from my chest until they locked with my stare.
I shouldn’t take her home.
I should wait a few weeks, get to know her better, make sure she was comfortable with me.
I had all the time in the world.
But that wasn’t me.
When I wanted something, I wanted it now.
“Do you want to get out of here?” I asked.
She nodded.
“I’m going to take you to my place.”
She nodded again, and her hand tightened on my waist as though she were reminding me it was there.
I hadn’t forgotten.
Thirteen
Alix
Present Day
“Sorry,” I said to Rose as I approached the small table she was sitting at, the restaurant she’d chosen for our happy hour. “I know I should have been here fifteen minutes ago.”
It had taken some time to unravel from the ball of blanket I had tucked myself into. More time to get into the shower and find an outfit.
That was because Smith’s last message wouldn’t leave my mind.
It made me move slower.
And it ate at me until I replied.
While standing in my kitchen, just seconds after I slung my purse over my shoulder, I messaged Smith that I’d meet him for dinner. He answered with the restaurant he’d chosen, which was within walking distance to my place, and that he would make the reservation for eight o’clock.
Then, I headed over here, to the restaurant where Rose was waiting for me.
I had known responding to Smith would make me late.
I’d also known Rose wouldn’t mind.
“Is everything okay?” she asked the second my ass hit the seat.
She was concerned.
I heard it.
I saw it.
She probably had reason to be.
I lifted the glass of wine she’d ordered for me and held it out toward her. She did the same with hers, meeting me in the middle of the table.
“We have a moment we need to toast to,” I said.
“Oh, yeah?”
I clinked my glass against hers and took a sip, setting it down to loosen the lightweight scarf from my neck. “I’m going out on a date tomorrow night. Well, I shoul
dn’t really call it a date. I’m just going out to dinner, so whatever that is, is what I’m doing.”
She did an awful job at hiding her excitement as she leaned in to get closer, practically wiggling in her seat. “Tell me everything.”
“He’s the guy I helped in the alley. The best friend, not the patient.”
She shook her head like she was trying to piece it together. “You guys swapped numbers?”
I wished I hadn’t loosened the scarf so much because I wanted to hide my face beneath it. “I looked him up online and messaged him.”
“Who are you? And what have you done with my best friend?”
I laughed because she was right.
Because the changes I was making felt good.
But then my voice turned serious when I said, “I just wanted to know if Joe was okay. That’d been weighing on me since it happened.”
Her expression told me she wasn’t surprised to hear this.
“I’m really proud of you for reaching out to him.” When I didn’t respond, she added, “But, like we did with Peter, let’s not think too deep into what’s happening. It’s just dinner. If something goes down between you two, we’ll celebrate another moment. If it doesn’t, at least you took a chance.” She wrapped her hand around her glass and brought it up to her lips. Once she set it down, the look on her face told me something big was coming. “Alix, we need to talk about Dylan.”
And there it was.
I should have suspected this conversation was coming.
It had been a few weeks since she mentioned him.
She was overdue.
“No, we don’t,” I replied, trying to stop her before she took this any further.
“We can’t keep avoiding this subject.”
We had to—until I was able to tell her about Dylan coming home.
Until I could explain where things stood.
But I wasn’t ready for that conversation yet.
“I just don’t want to discuss him tonight.”
She nodded, telling me she understood and that she wouldn’t push me to chat about him tonight. Then, she glanced down at her menu. When she finally looked back up, there was a huge smile on her face. “Want to skip dinner and go straight to dessert?”
“More than anything.”
She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “That means we’re going to need another bottle of wine.”
“Yesss,” I agreed.
She laughed.
I did, too.
This time felt even better.
When I saw the brick row of townhouses, mine being on the very end, I hurried down the rest of the sidewalk and up the front steps.
I unlocked the door.
Once I was inside, my keys were placed in the bowl in the entryway, and I set my bag on the closest barstool in the kitchen.
From there, I poured myself a glass of red and carried it into my bedroom.
I dropped my jewelry in a drawer on the right side of the closet, my clothes in the hamper, and my shoes on the floor by the rack of jeans.
There was a note from Dylan taped to the wall, next to his rack of belts.
I’ll try not to be late.
I love you.
I didn’t stop in the bathroom to brush my teeth or wash off my makeup. Instead, I brought the wine over to the bed, and I slid underneath the comforter. Once I was settled, I touched the screen of the tablet, hitting the buttons that flipped off the lights and turned on the TV.
HGTV.
Dream beach houses.
Perfect.
Still sitting up, I took several sips from the glass and eventually let my body sink into the mattress.
I was completely relaxed.
So much so that I set the glass by the tablet and adjusted my head over the pillow.
I brought the blanket up to my neck, and my body began to warm.
My eyes closed.
I was just turning to my side when I heard my bedroom door open.
I stayed where I was, frozen, and gasped, “You came?”
It didn’t matter what the note had said.
I never assumed he would come.
I always just hoped.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” I added.
I heard, “Me, too,” as he climbed into bed behind me.
That voice.
It was a sound I loved.
And with it came his touch, sending a fiery sensation down my back, covering my shoulders with the softest kisses.
He didn’t have to question me.
He knew what I wanted.
He knew how to give it to me.
And, just like that, there was pressure around my nipple. A tugging, followed by a sharp pinch.
“My God,” I groaned, my legs immediately spreading.
A finger went to my clit, running the length, turning in a circle when it reached the top.
“I want you,” I breathed.
I barely had the last word out before he was plunging inside me.
The thrusts were deep and hard.
The movements so fast.
Every drive was emphasized when I felt the slap against the inside of my thighs.
My pussy contracted in response.
“Dylan,” I gasped, the intensity building within me.
Fingertips traced my whole body. Breath was exhaled over my back.
“Fuuuck,” was groaned near the side of my face.
His admission made me smile.
It lasted only a second before my lips puckered, and a moan poured out of them.
I was there.
It never took long with Dylan.
Just as I was about to tell him, “I know,” was moaned in my ear.
The speed increased, my entire body tightened, and the first wave came over me.
My stomach shuddered.
A second wave pumped through me, and my sounds began to match his, telling me we were in the same place.
Both feeling the same things.
We were in this together because it was impossible for us to be apart.
I stilled when he pulled out.
I caught my breath.
I moved one arm underneath my pillow, and the other went closer to my face.
I didn’t shift my body.
He was here.
We fit together.
This was the spot I’d fall asleep in.
I kept my eyes closed when I said, “Don’t go. Please stay the night with me.”
I waited for him to get off the bed.
For the loneliness to close in on me.
But what I felt in its place was the warmth from his arms as they circled around me, and then I heard the sound of, “Good night, Alix,” floating in the air.
I was sleeping within a second.
Maybe two.
I woke to the sun touching my face.
Without my eyes opening, I quickly went to reach behind me, my hand moving out from under the pillow.
Before I even had my elbow bent, I heard, “I’m here.”
Dylan had stayed the whole night.
My muscles relaxed.
My heart rate slowed.
I should have known the sunlight wasn’t the only heat in this room.
It wasn’t the only comfort either.
But, as I took it all in, as I thought about how perfectly this sunny day was starting, a feeling of dread dropped into my stomach.
It was hard to say.
Still, I had to get it out.
He had to hear it.
From me.
“I’m having dinner with another man tonight,” I admitted. I ground my teeth together as I took several deep breaths. “Dylan, I want you to tell me not to go out with him.”
My eyes squinted.
My chest pounded.
“Please,” I begged. “Just say the words, and I’ll stay home tonight.”
I clung my hand around the blanket, the other twisting the edge of the fluffy pillow. “Dylan …” I s
aid so softly.
There was movement on the bed.
The air behind me suddenly turned to ice.
“Dylan, no.”
He couldn’t leave.
At least not without saying something.
But I heard his feet on the floor, and I knew that was exactly what he was doing.
“Please, Dylan. Don’t go yet.”
My body began to tense into a ball.
“Come back,” I called.
The bedroom door opened.
Why did I tell him?
Why was I so honest?
Why didn’t I just keep my mouth shut?
There was no reason I’d needed to tell him what I was doing with Smith.
I could have kept it in.
Lied.
I wasn’t sure it would have even mattered.
“Dylan—” I cried out, cutting myself off when the bedroom door closed behind him.
He was gone.
He hadn’t told me not to go.
He wouldn’t.
I hated that more than anything.
I hated this feeling.
I hated what we had become.
To clear my head, I should climb out of bed, put some clothes on, walk down the five front steps, and spend the day outside. I should get coffee on Newbury Street and eat lunch in the Public Garden and shop for some new spring clothes at the Prudential Center.
But I didn’t do any of that.
I reached for the tablet and pressed the button that closed the blinds, and I buried myself under the blanket.
I sucked in until my lungs felt like they were going to explode.
I opened my mouth.
And I screamed.
No sound came out.
It was a silent one.
But, in my head, it was the loudest noise I’d ever heard.
Fourteen
Dylan
Three Years and One Month Ago
I was lying on my left side, Alix was on her right, and we were facing each other, naked, in my bed. With my hand on her neck, I could feel the heat on her skin, the sweatiness. Her pulse hammering away under my fingers.