Naked Love

by Ann, Jewel

  “You …” Her head falls to the side, fingers in my hair, voice strained with emotion. “I just want you …”

  * * *

  Four in the morning.

  My phone rings. Avery jumps. I kiss her head and reach for my phone.

  “Hey, Meg.”

  “Hey, Jake.” She doesn’t need to say another word. The tone of her voice says it all. “Swarley passed away. We did everything we could to revive him. I’m so sorry.”

  I sit up with my legs dangling off the bed, my back to Avery. “Okay.” It’s hard to speak. My throat feels so fucking tight with the words I’m not sure I can relay to Avery and Sydney.

  “There’s no need to come now, unless they feel the need to be here. Either way, I’ll be here when they’re ready to come for him.”

  “No …” Avery chokes on a sob before I disconnect.

  Bad news is a feeling that arrives like an executioner in your chest before the words are ever spoken. It’s a look. A sad smile. It’s an invisible poison. And no words can soften the blow after that first wordless hit.

  “Thanks, Meg.” I set my phone down.

  “No …” Avery’s forehead and palms press to my back. “Don’t say it … please don’t say it.” Another sob breaks from her chest.

  I twist my torso, and she falls into my lap with her hands covering her face.

  “I’m sorry, Ave.”

  “No, no, no …” Her body shakes as I pull her closer, a ball of brokenness on my lap.

  The door to the room creaks. I glance up. The dim light from the hall behind Sydney makes it hard to see her face, but I don’t miss her hand covering her mouth. No words are needed.

  Unlike Avery, Sydney breaks slowly … silently … until she’s hunched down like she might vomit.

  I remember this moment with my mom. It’s when this space in your heart feels most raw, hollowed, yet heavy—like grief rushes in to fill the void. And there is a void, no matter what anyone says. We don’t remember them in our heart, we remember them in our mind. All the heart can do is feel, and when someone dies, the only thing left to feel is pain.

  “I’m sorry …” It’s all I can say. It’s all that anyone can say.

  When Avery realizes my words are not just meant for her, she glances up and flies off my lap. “Syd …” Avery envelopes her sister, and they collapse the rest of the way to the floor.

  An audible cry escapes from Sydney.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose, resisting the urge to fix the unfixable.

  Avery has my shirt on, but I’m naked beneath the sheet, so I wrap it around my waist and grab my shorts, slipping into them. Squatting next to them, I rest my hand on Avery’s back. “I’ll be in the living room. Take the bed. Let me know what you need from me.”

  She doesn’t respond. They cling to each other—sobbing and shaking.

  “He-he’s gone …”

  I cringe, rubbing the back of my neck as Sydney’s words bleed behind me.

  Easing onto the sofa, I bring up Deedy’s number and hit the green button.

  “Jake?” Deedy answers on the first ring. She’s in a different time zone and an early riser. “Oh my gosh, I forgot to call you back. Was it important? It’s early there—what’s wrong? Something must be wrong. Please tell me nothing has happened to Avery.”

  “Swarley died.”

  A few seconds of silence steal the line.

  “What?” It’s barely a whisper.

  “It’s …” I blow out a long breath, running a frustrated hand over my face. “It’s messed-up. I don’t understand how this happened so quickly. And I have no fucking clue what I should do about it. Sydney and Ave are on the floor in the hall, crying. I don’t know what to do or what to say. I don’t know Sydney’s husband’s number, or if it’s even my place to call him. I just …”

  “Jake, just take a breath.”

  I do. I take a breath.

  “Just be patient. Be there for them when they need you. I’ll wake Tommy and we’ll deal with the rest. Okay?”

  I hum my acknowledgement.

  “I’m sure this is nobody’s fault. It’s life. You know about life. So just know that you’ve done your part—more than your part. I can’t tell you how much Tommy and I appreciate all you’ve done for his family.”

  Yeah, I tortured his daughter, stripped her down to tears, then fell in love with her. Oh … and his grand-dog died on my watch. I’m sure Tom Montgomery will be so grateful.

  “Thanks, Deedy.”

  I end the call and toss my phone onto the sofa next to me.

  “Fuck …” I lean my head back and close my eyes.

  * * *

  Avery

  “I need to c-call h-home.” Sydney wipes her nose with her arm as we lean against the wall, still on the floor after what feels like an eternity of crying.

  The pain has settled into a miserable numbness.

  “How do I tell my kids?”

  Swarley owned my niece’s heart, possibly more than her parents did. She dressed him up like a unicorn and he let her. He’s been there for every step of her life. He’s been her best friend and loyal protector.

  “It’s going to feel like he’s dying all over again when I get home.”

  I nod. “I know. Ocean will be …” My words crack under the gravity of what’s happened and what will happen when Sydney arrives home with Swarley. “Crushed beyond words.”

  “Yes,” Sydney whispers, hiccupping on another sob.

  I squeeze her hand as we stare at our outstretched legs.

  “Oh my god … I haven’t seen you without toenail polish since you were … six months old.”

  I wipe a few stray tears and laugh. “My fingers are naked too.” I hold out my hands.

  “What happened to you?”

  I welcome the new topic, even if it’s about the demise of my appearance, knowing the second we leave here to get Swarley, the emotions will return. “Jake happened.”

  “Is that like shit happens?” She sniffles and I sense she, too, needs a new topic.

  “He’s awful. Just … the worst. He’s crude, and he calls me names. He doesn’t understand my need to have nice things and look pretty. And he’s a vegan. Gah! How does one eat a keto diet and be a vegan? I can’t do it. He likes tents. I like hotel suites. He has tattoos, and I don’t like tattoos. And he likes just … staring at the sky like the stars are the most fascinating thing he has ever seen. I honestly think he was deprived of fireworks as a child.”

  “You’re sleeping with him.”

  I shrug. “He knows his way around … things.”

  Sydney chuckles, but it’s not her jovial cackle. It’s tarnished with grief because not even our self-made bubble can shelter us from reality.

  “You’re in deep, huh?” Her hand finds mine, and now she’s the one giving me a squeeze of understanding.

  Drawing in a shaky breath, I nod. “So deep it hurts. So deep it scares me. So deep I’m certain I won’t survive whatever this is if he changes his mind. And he’s going to change his mind. They always do.”

  “I married the man who looked at me the way Jake looks at you.”

  “I’m not you. Had Jake met single Sydney, he would have chosen you without a second thought. I fear we’ve been out of touch with reality—out in the woods—for so long, he thinks he has feelings for me. What if we get to L.A., and I’m no longer the best choice?”

  “What if you are?” His voice sounds.

  We jump as Jake steps around the corner, pinning me with a look that makes me squirm. He looks offended. Maybe even angry? I can’t tell.

  Sydney stands, wiping her eyes. “Hey, I’m going to take a shower before we go. And I need to call home.” Reality seeps back into the moment.

  Jake nods and shares a sympathetic smile with her. When she squeezes past him, he returns his attention to me and holds out his hand.

  I take it, and he pulls me to my feet, peering down at me like he can reduce me to ashes with his evil stare.r />
  He wins. My gaze slips to his bare chest.

  “I’m going to pretend that this lack of confidence you have this morning is just a side effect of grief.”

  I shake my head. “It’s just the side effect of being human. Sorry to disappoint you.”

  Jake lifts my chin with his finger. I wait for the lecture. I wait for that look that says I’ve let him down. I wait for the flinch of regret.

  Nothing.

  Instead, he lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me. It’s soft and patient. It’s a reminder of the words that were exchanged last night. Tears find their way down my face.

  He pulls away and wipes them with his thumbs. “Swarley?”

  I shake my head. “Jake.”

  He smiles and it’s real. It’s … real.

  “You going to shower?”

  I shake my head again. “Showers are overrated. Besides, I like how you smell on me.”

  Jake brushes his lips along my cheek, stopping at my ear, eliciting visible chills along my skin. “Me too,” he whispers.

  I hug him. He lifts me up and carries me to the bed. Jake’s physical strength is quite possibly the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced with a man. I’ve felt financial security, a strong social standing, showered in gifts, but never just raw, strong, all-man sex appeal. Jake is just …

  Sigh …

  He sits on the end of the bed. “Are you going to drive back home with your sister? I think you should.”

  Biting my lips together, I nod several times. “You’re probably right. She’s going to have Swarley. I don’t want her making the drive alone.”

  “I’ll follow you.”

  “Yeah?” I can’t hide my spark of excitement.

  “Ave …” He shakes his head like my questioning him is somehow ridiculous.

  I can’t help it. Wanting something this much is not just scary, it’s impossible to breathe when you’re so close to having everything. Jake’s a world I never knew existed. He’s my favorite surprise. My guiltiest pleasure. The dream that finds a place in reality.

  Just as I open my mouth to ask Jake for some reassurance that we will find a way to really be together, a photo on the far wall of Megan’s bedroom catches my attention. “What’s that?” I climb off his lap and take slow steps to the gray-framed photo.

  “It’s Ranger. Megan’s husky. She and her ex-husband rescued him from an abusive home. Ranger died a week after their divorce.” Jake presses his chest to my back and wraps his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder.

  My dad was wrong. Sometimes God does give you more than you can handle.

  “What happened to his eye?” It’s hard to speak without the ability to breathe, but I manage to get five words past my airless lungs.

  “Previous owner shot him with a BB gun.”

  My hand moves to my mouth.

  “Unimaginable, huh?”

  I nod. It’s all unimaginable. But nothing is quite as unimaginable as the expensive gold engraved tag hanging from the dog’s collar that I gave him.

  “You said Meg’s husband cheated on her?”

  “Yep.”

  No air. Where’s the air? Why can’t I breathe?

  “Did she catch him?” I whisper, gaze affixed to the photo.

  “No, Steve confessed at the worst possible time.”

  Steve.

  His mom had cancer.

  I close my eyes.

  “Megan was pregnant, and she…” Jake clears his throat like he’s choking on some residual emotion “…miscarried the day after he told her about the affair.”

  My eyes snap open. “W-what?”

  He wasn’t married. No, no, no … He didn’t have a pregnant wife.

  “Fucking asshole cheated on her when she was pregnant. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to kill him and his home-wrecking whore.”

  I blink, releasing big, heartbreaking, regretful, angry, God-hates-me tears.

  “Anyway … Ranger was a good dog.” Jake gives me a squeeze and kisses my wet cheek. “Ave?” He turns me toward him.

  This time I don’t hide from him. My teary gaze stays on his contorted face.

  “I’m sorry. I said too much. Swarley was a good dog too.”

  If I lie, we will never be real. And I don’t want the lies. I want love. Real. Honest. Soul-consuming. Naked love.

  “His mom had cancer. Cancer.” I shake my head and back away.

  Jake’s brows pull together as he cocks his head. “Who? What are you talking about?”

  “He had to move away to take care of his mother. He told me not to wait. He said sometimes life just happens.”

  “Ave … I’m not following. Who said that?”

  The tears won’t stop, but I don’t look away. God … maybe he’ll see how blindsided I was by this. He’ll see the truth.

  “Ranger was a stray dog he found at the park. Ranger lived with Steve’s mom most of the time. A therapy dog.” I continue to shake my head as I repeat the lies I was told. “He wasn’t married. He had never been married.”

  Realization softens Jake’s brow as disbelief—shock—ghosts along his face, dulling the life in his eyes.

  Home-wrecking whore.

  “Avery …” His tone loses all kindness, all the love. It’s cold. The kind of cold that feels like a knife against my skin.

  “He said he loved me. He said one day he wanted to marry me.” I continue to shake my head, pressing my hand against my chest.

  “He wanted in your fucking pants! That’s why he said that to you!”

  I choke on a sob as I gasp at his words.

  Jake clenches his teeth, a hint of regret flashes in his eyes, but it fades in seconds, squashed by his anger.

  “I’m not a whore.” I shove as much confidence as I can into that statement.

  Jake grunts. “Tell that to Megan.”

  Megan. Megan who lost her baby and her dog. Megan who was cheated on by her lying husband. Megan who tried to save Swarley. Megan who welcomed us into her home. Megan—Jake’s friend.

  “You.” He shakes his head like he can wake himself up, like it’s not real. “You. Jesus … it was you? This can’t be happening.” He continues to shake his head. “He told her the other woman—you—meant nothing. Do you like that, Ave? Have you just never cared whether or not you truly mean something to a man? As long as they buy you things, then you carelessly turn a blind eye to minor details like wives? Do you know what that makes you?”

  “Is everything okay?” Sydney peeks into the room, her dark, wet hair tied back into a ponytail.

  She eyes me with concern. Then she shoots Jake a questioning look, but he keeps his back to her.

  I wipe away my tears, no longer able to tolerate the disdain on Jake’s face. “It’s fine. Are you ready?”

  Sydney nods slowly, concern still marring her face.

  “Give me five minutes to get dressed.” I bend down and riffle through my bag for clothes.

  “I’ll be in the kitchen,” Sydney says.

  “Okay.” I keep my head down, my complete devastation hidden from my grieving sister and the man who clearly hates me. The man who wanted me dead when I was an unknown whore to him.

  This defensive little voice in my head wants to jump out and spew off all the reasons Jake has no right to be upset with me. It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t know. Steve lied and he was good at it. I didn’t ruin Megan’s marriage. Steve did. But I can’t say any of these words because Swarley died, and Megan doesn’t need her past dug up and hashed out all over again.

  “This isn’t the time or place to discuss this.” I stand, braving a glance up at Jake.

  His shoulders are slumped, his jaw still cemented into a disapproving scowl. He looks angry and disappointed and … hurt. He shakes his head. “There’s nothing to discuss. I think you filled in the missing pieces.”

  I step into my shorts and slip off Jake’s shirt. He turns away from me.

  This … this hurts. Last night I was the woman he lov
ed. This morning I’m the whore not worthy of his eyes on my bared flesh. I turn my back to him too as I put on my bra.

  Tears burn.

  Pride suffocates.

  Hearts break.

  Words fail.

  And I … well, I focus on Sydney and her family who will be devastated when we bring Swarley home in a body bag. As for Jake, I regret nothing. He taught me a lot about myself.

  Attagirl, Ave.

  Stand the fuck up for yourself.

  Show me whatcha got.

  He tore me down and made me put myself back together. I’m so much stronger than I was when I left L.A. But this is still going to destroy my heart—a heart that’s been jerked around, kicked, punched, and dismissed so many times, I’m not sure it even remembers how to beat.

  I close my bag and hike my purse onto my shoulder. Jake turns. My entire body tingles with pain. He reaches for my bag, but I pull it just out of his reach.

  “Don’t …” My throat constricts, strangling my words. Maybe it’s my body’s way of saving face, if that’s even still possible. Maybe we’ve come full circle. He hated me when we left Milwaukee. I’ve gone from a bitch to a whore.

  Funny, I just wanted to be the smile on his face. The object of his affection. I wanted to be the part of his life that felt utterly undefinable yet completely impossible to live without.

  We don’t always get what we want.

  “Avery?” Sydney’s voice from the other room brings me out of this suspended moment.

  I angle my body to squeeze by Jake without touching him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “Ave—” Sydney gives me a tiny frown.

  I stop her with a sharp headshake. We can’t talk about Jake just like we can’t talk about Swarley or all the other painful moments we’ve survived.

  Her frown deepens. It’s been her job to put her little sister back together. That’s the motherly role she took on after our mom died. I don’t want her to feel bad for me. I don’t want her to fix me when she’s broken.

  I just … I just want to go home.

  I take three slow breaths, and I follow her out the door, into her vehicle, and we make our way to the clinic under a cloud of unspoken words.

  “Tell me.” Sydney puts the vehicle into park and shuts off the engine in the clinic parking lot. “When I get home, my kids are going to need me. And you’re hurting right now, and I know it’s more than Swarley. I don’t want you to feel alone when I’m pulled in another direction. So … before I do one of the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, just tell me. Let me be here for you even if it’s just for the next few minutes until we walk into the clinic.”