I don’t think she’s truly that thrilled to see her, especially since my mother’s been incapable of hiding her dislike toward her. But Dawn is determined to shimmy her way into every aspect of my life.
She pulls me to my mom, who’s had more than one glass of red wine and the effects are obvious.
“Boey, sit by me.” My mother’s beaded bracelets clack as she taps the chair next to her.
Before my ass has a chance to make contact with the seat, Dawn has touched down beside me.
“Mrs. Jensen, I’m so happy I could come celebrate with you. Thank you for havin’ me.”
My mother laughs hysterically at that. “Yeah, well,” is all she says, but when her gaze shifts to me, her expression says so much more. “Why’d you bring her?” it’s asking.
My eyes answer, “She invited herself.”
Dawn tugs on my shirt, calling my attention to her. “Bo, are you going to take me home soon?”
“The party’s just started,” I tell her, annoyed.
“Yes, but I was hoping we could spend some time alone before Alan brings the kids home,” she says, referring to her ex-husband. “You knew I couldn’t be here the entire time.”
“Dawn, I told you I wouldn’t be able to leave during the party. That’s why I wanted you to drive yourself.”
“I didn’t want to show up alone.” Her pout is meant to touch me. It does. It touches a raw nerve ending, making me cringe.
I close my eyes, praying for patience like my mother often does. Dawn’s a sweet girl, I remind myself. But she’s not for me. And it really is my fault that she’s here. Though I haven’t encouraged it, I haven’t objected either. She’s here because I’ve allowed her to create a relationship in her mind that doesn’t exist in mine.
Dawn and I met six weeks ago at a bar in Charlotte. It was like at first sight, from my end, at least. I’d have to be dead not to be attracted to her. Blonde with big brown eyes, nice body, bubbly personality. When she took me home that night, I never imagined it would turn into another night and then another.
Next thing I know, I’m meeting her kids and she’s invited herself to lunch with mine. Laura was furious, and so was I. I’d mentioned the location of the lunch and it never crossed my mind that she’d show up. That was the tilting point where she went from a girl I was having a good time with to someone I dread seeing. Maybe those things wouldn’t bother me so much if I felt more than simple attraction. If I felt something even remotely close to what I feel with—
“Cristiana!” My mother’s sudden shout finishes my thought. “I’m so glad you could come! Sit, sit! Where are Owen and the baby?”
My eyes flick up to her momentarily, but I’m quickly distracted when Dawn’s hand reaches for mine. “How about we go in thirty minutes?”
“Dawn, it’s my mother’s birthday party. I’m not leaving. I can call you a cab.” Just as I finish my sentence, I’m distracted yet again.
“Um, no, Owen had to work. Mia’s inside with Jess,” I hear Cris’s reply to my mother’s question clear as day because I’m far more aware of her than I am of this girl I’m supposed to be here with.
“What? I don’t want to…” Dawn’s rambling fades to the background as I listen intently to the conversation between my mother and Cris.
“Ah, okay, I’ll have to go steal her for a few minutes. I have something for her she’s just going to love!” My mother stands, and although she’s a bit wobbly, her drink is completely stable in her shaky hand as she walks away.
Though my head is tilted toward Dawn, I can see Cris out of the corner of my eye. She’s sitting quietly, but I know she’s watching me too.
Damn, I want to talk to her. To sit closer to her.
“Do you want to go for a swim?” Dawn asks.
“Not right now, but you go in.”
“Boey-poo, come with me. If I get cold, I can wrap myself around you for warmth.” She removes her sheer white cover, exposing her barely there bright orange bikini, trying to entice me to go in.
“The pool’s heated. You’ll be fine,” I tell her.
Cris clears her throat and smooths her skirt. She’s pretending to look around, just like I’m pretending to listen to Dawn.
Her husband didn’t come with her. Good. As it is, I feel like an ass for lusting after another man’s wife. Doing it in front of him would make me a straight-up dick. And I do want her. Fuck me, but I do.
After about five minutes of torture, Cris stands and leaves us.
“Jeez, finally. Didn’t she get the hint that she was in the way?” Dawn asks, rolling her eyes.
Little arms wrap around my neck from behind me, and I turn to see my daughter, Sammy. Her eyes are blue, much like mine, and almost glow in the sunlight. She’s donned a two-piece bathing suit with a pineapple and banana print. “Daddy, can I get in the pool? JB’s in there.”
“Of course, ma petite. But only while I’m here watching. If I move away, I’ll ask you to step out.”
“But JB can watch me!”
“He’s ten, chère. He can’t even watch himself yet.”
A slight pout tugs at her lower lip, but she accepts what I say. She makes to go, but before she can, Dawn reaches out and grabs her by the arm.
“Here, baby. Let’s get a family photo,” Dawn tells her. There’s already a phone in her hand and she’s settling herself in what I assume she thinks is her best angle.
Sammy glances at me warily. Dawn may be nice, but she’s not the motherly type. Kids can sense this. I nod because while I don’t want to be with her, I also don’t want to be a complete asshole.
“JB!” Dawn calls to my son when he swims close to the edge. “Come get in the picture.”
He climbs out of the pool and grumbles something at me as he passes, but I make it a point not to listen. As she takes them in her arms and snaps photo after photo, I shake my head, realizing this can’t go on beyond today. It’s not fair to her.
After losing sight of Cris, I decide to mingle with the guests and enjoy some of the savory meats and even better moonshine someone snuck in. We listen to the zydeco band Dan hired and even dance to a few of the tunes, then we jump in the pool to wash off the sweat.
It’s getting late by the time we finally make our way inside. My parents have gone missing and most of the guests have left or are saying their goodbyes. I begin to wonder if Cris has left too.
That is, until we turn to go into the living room and spot them there. My mother is wine-drunk, my stepfather’s completely out on the couch, and to my relief, Cristiana’s sitting on the floor with her daughter, playing dominos.
For a split second, I consider staying like this, enjoying the sight of her as she plays. The angle of her face, which is tilted slightly away, and the way her long hair, wild and free, frames her features. A faint smile on her lips tells me she’s in her element right now.
But a split second is all I have before she notices Dawn and I have just walked in.
Cris’s head turns to us, and even through the deep tan of her skin, I can see the red that crawls up her neck and into her cheeks. I should feel awful about making someone nervous. But when I see how it looks on Cris, it only makes her more appealing to me.
I slap Dan’s knee, “Hey there, Dan. Gonna join us at some point?”
He dazedly smiles up at me. “Yeah, I’m here.”
Dawn picks up Puggy as we sit in the only space available, which, to my misfortune, is behind Cris. I hate that I can’t see her. That I can’t try to read her thoughts. Still, I can tell they’re about me from her body language. The way her head moves just enough so that her ear is pointing my way. The fidgety way she plays with the hem of her skirt.
Smiling, my mother reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Thank you for such a wonderful party, Boey!”
“You like it, Momma?”
“Oh, yes, and your stew was to die for!”
“Wasn’t it though?” Dawn asks.
My mother’s lips straighten, but she
stops herself from replying. “Bo, baby, you gonna be able to watch Puggy for me next weekend?”
“Yes, just remember I have the kids, so I’ll have to bring her here.”
“I can watch her!” Dawn interjects.
“Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to bother you,” my mother says, shaking her head vehemently, and reaches over to reclaim her mutt.
“It’s no bother at all! I’d love to help. Besides, we’re family!”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at my mom’s expression of horror.
Suddenly, I hear, “So you two are siblings?” coming from the floor.
We all turn to Cris as she appears to be comparing Dawn and me, searching for similarities.
Her assumption has me outright laughing. Dawn’s audible intake of breath has me laughing harder.
“We’re dating,” Dawn snarls at Cris.
Cris shrinks a little when she realizes her mistake. That, coupled with the disappointment I see in her eyes, stops my laughter. I don’t find it funny in the least. If anything, I want to get down on the floor with her and smooth away the lines that have formed between her brows.
I’m ready for this day to be over.
“Momma, I gotta take Dawn home. She has to get her kids from their dad’s. But I’ll see you in a bit. I love you.” I go to her, leaning down to give her a kiss. Puggy growls at me, and I back away. “Whoa, dog. What happened to us being friends?”
“All right, Boey. Be careful.”
Cris looks up as I push Dawn out, but we say nothing.
“That was a nice party,” Dawn says when we step into the truck. “Bo, didn’t you want to pack some clothes?”
“For what?”
“For tomorrow, silly.” She laughs. “Unless you plan on wearing the same thing.”
“Dawn, I’m not staying the night. My parents will be sleeping at my house, and I’d like to spend more time with them.”
“Oh. Then should I bring back some clothes?”
“Aren’t you expecting your kids?”
“I can always ask their father to keep them the rest of the weekend.” She waves it away as if it’s nothing. Dear Lord, Laura has never given up her time with the kids.
As I gaze through the window, I see very few cars still here, one of them being Cris’s Civic. Something inside me tells me that this will be the last time I ever see her. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t like it.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Dawn.
Her face lights up. “You getting clothes?”
“No, chère. I need to take care of somethin’. Then you and I need to talk.”
I race inside. When I open the door that leads from the garage into the house, she’s the first thing I see. She smiles at me, and when she tries to move away, I automatically reach out.
“Cristiana.”
“Yes?”
She turns to me, her honeyed eyes locking with mine for the first time all day. In those eyes, I read everything she’s feeling. She’s as intensely attracted to me as I am to her. It’s the sort of pull that makes you ache to touch and miserable because you can’t. Or, at least, you shouldn’t.
“Thanks for coming. It meant a lot to my mom to have her girls here.” And to me.
“Yes, of course. We love your mom.”
I nod. My eyes never leave hers. I’m searching for something to say, something that will keep this from being the last time we speak. But nothing comes to mind. Instead, all I say is, “Okay, I have to go. Thanks again.”
Of its own accord, probably because it senses my brain isn’t going to get it done, my body leans in and pulls her to me. I hug her tightly as, for the first time, I feel her against me. Her arms circle my shoulders, and she trembles slightly while she squeezes.
My face is in her neck, and I make it my mission to take in everything that I can about her so that tonight, I can replay it in my mind, again and again. The way she smells, the way her soft hair tickles my nose. The way her frame fits so perfectly in my arms. It’s better than the dream. So much better.
She was made for me, and I don’t want to let her go.
But I have to. Because she’s not mine and this is fucking hell.
The battle between my brain and my body ends when I push her away. I burst through the door, leaving without another word.
6
The aluminum bleachers might as well be ice against my ass it’s so damned cold. Laura and Sammy are pressed tightly against me, and their foggy breath mingles with mine as we exhale the slight warmth we possess. My balls have disappeared somewhere inside my body, and good for them. Otherwise, Sammy would definitely be my last kid.
We put up with this because JB likes soccer. It’s his thing. That’s all Laura and I want for him. To have a passion for something.
“Here, baby,” I say to Sammy, lifting her small body and sitting her on my lap. “You’ll be able to see better this way.” And you’ll keep my legs warm.
“Go, JB!” Laura points at our son, who’s goalkeeper, as she watches him through the binoculars I gave her last Christmas.
I look out onto the field proudly when he stops a goal. He’s breathing hard, wiping his brow. Unlike us, he’s able to maintain blood flow on this unseasonably cold forty-eight degree day.
The game is paused, the players huddle with their coach, and substitutions are made.
“Aww, I want to see JB again,” Sammy whines.
“Don’t worry, love. He’ll be back after a few plays. They all need a chance to get practice,” Laura reassures her.
From somewhere in my jacket, my phone vibrates, alerting me to a Facebook message. I pull it out and read.
Cris (Garcia) Roberts: Hi. I don’t know if you remember me. I’m your mom’s neighbor, Cristiana.
My breathing stops as I read the name. It’s been weeks since I last saw her. Or heard from her. My mother refuses to even utter her name. I’d finally given into the idea that perhaps I’d never see her again. Until now.
Me: Of course I remember you. Cristiana Roberts. With the little blue-eyed girl.
The one I can’t get out of my mind.
Her: Yes, that’s me.
Me: What can I do for you? Is everything okay with my parents?
Though I’d hope she’s reaching out to me because of me, I can’t forget the fact that my folks are older. The most reasonable explanation is that she’s contacting me because of a problem.
Her: Yes, everything’s okay. Hope I didn’t worry you.
Me: Good. Is there something I can help you with?
There’s a short pause before she replies.
Her: Due to somewhat recent events in my marriage, I have acquired a ticket. I want to use it with you.
Me: A ticket?
Her: A ticket. For one night in bed with another man. I want to redeem it with you.
Her words hit me like a fucking mallet. The world suddenly disappears and every ounce of my blood heats to near boiling point. I stand, dumping Sammy onto the man in front of me, and Laura, who was leaning against my side, falls to the bench.
“What the hell!” Laura exclaims, grabbing Sammy from the man’s shoulders. “Sorry, sir.”
The man, a father who’s probably used to having kids jump on him all day long, laughs it off, waving the offense away.
“Sorry, chérie. You all right?” I search Sammy for injuries.
She pouts, and I can tell her feelings are hurt when she makes no attempt to return to me. It’s probably for the best. After reading what Cris just sent me, I don’t want my daughter on my lap.
“Are you okay?” Laura asks.
“Yeah, I just got a charley horse.”
“Ooh. Sorry.”
“It’s better now.”
Laura keeps her distance too, probably afraid I’ll do it again. I take advantage of the personal space to re-read the message. To make sure I didn’t misunderstand. Put meaning to words that I’ve wanted to see. But no, it’s not a mistake. Cris is, in
fact, propositioning me.
I take my jacket off, the cool weather suddenly not cold enough. My ex-wife and child gladly take it from me.
“You sure you’re okay?” Laura asks, a slight frown between her brows.
“Yeah. Just… I need to get some fresh air.”
“Fresh air?” she asks, confused.
“I’ll be right back.”
I make my way off the bleachers, ignoring the complaints from the parents whose feet I step on. By the time I sneak under the metal frame, sweat’s dripping down my back. But it’s not from the effort it took to push past everyone. It’s from the images that flood my mind, dreams of Cris I’ve stored as memories, even though they weren’t real.
Her beneath me, naked, writhing. Me buried inside her, seeking release for the ache that’s plagued me since the day I first saw her.
And now she’s offering me exactly that. The real deal, not something made up in my mind.
My hands shake as I pull up the message again. I’m desperate to reply, to tell her, “Fuck yes! When? Now?” But the moment my fingers make contact with the screen, someone touches me from behind.
“Bo, JB’s up again. I gotta take Sammy to the bathroom.” Laura’s holding our daughter’s hand in hers.
“Okay. I’ll head right up.” I doubt that JB will spare a second to see if we’re watching, but we’ve made it a point to make sure at least one of us is cheering him on from the stands at all times. Putting my phone away, I go back to my seat, pausing the game Cris and I are about to play.
7
I take too long. Damn me. It’s not indecision that makes me hesitate every time I write a response to Cris’s offer. It’s that I don’t know how to word it. Somehow, “When? Right now? I’m ready if you are!” sounds a little too desperate. While, “Sure, whatever,” is too aloof.
That night, I dream of her. Soft naked skin on my tongue as I run it up her leg, over her thigh, and farther still to her belly and breasts. She moans my name, digs her fingers through my hair, and tugs me to her. Our lips clash, and time and again, I taste her. Even when I realize it’s a dream, I know she’ll taste just like that. Only better.
The Other Side: The Affair, Companion Book 3 Page 3