by Karen Booth
Alex had always made Glenn pay for it—she put him through plenty of mental misery. She wasn’t the type to extort jewelry or cars. Emotional torture seemed like a more fitting punishment and she allowed him to endure weeks of the cold shoulder and bitchy asides until she would eventually warm to him again, and almost all would be forgiven. There was always a part of her that could never forgive him for everything. He’d strayed and that hurt in a way he would never understand.
Alex traipsed into her bathroom to pee before she left. When she went to wash her hands, she saw her soap dish was empty and went to Glenn’s vanity instead. There, nestled in white porcelain next to a bar of clear glycerin was a scuffed gold ring—Glenn’s wedding band.
She stared at it, picked it up, and immediately slipped it back into the dish. She rinsed her hands with hot water and looked at herself in the mirror, shaking her head. At least I know that much. She’d stopped wearing her wedding ring only a few days earlier, after Lisa scolded her about it, but she’d been carrying it around in her pocket. Now she knew Lisa had been right. Alex took her ring and placed it with Glenn’s. Without looking back, she returned to the closet, grabbed the dress and her sexiest pair of black heels and raced back to David’s to get ready for dinner.
****
Freshly spritzed with perfume and wearing the highest heels she’d worn in months, Alex heard Tyler from the hallway as she made her way to the living room, pulling her black shawl over her shoulders.
“I hate this stupid shirt.”
“You look great, buddy,” David said. “And it’s just for a few hours. It’ll make your mom happy.”
She turned the corner and was greeted by an unbelievable sight. David, Tyler, and Page, all in black pants and dress shirts. Page was even wearing a tie. “How did you manage this?” she asked.
David beamed, devastating in all black, his thick head of hair combed to the side. “Pretty good, huh? I exercised my powers of persuasion.”
“He told Tyler that he’d take him to the arcade,” Page said, wearing a light gray shirt and black and white striped tie. He smiled, which drove Alex to the brink of tears. Until that moment, she wasn’t sure he still had teeth.
Alex went to him, holding back a sniffle. “You look very handsome. We’re going to have to keep the girls away from you.” Don’t remind me.
“Mom. Please don’t cry.” He gave her a hug that made Alex feel like holding on forever. “It’s just a tie.”
Tyler latched on to her from behind. “I want a hug.”
“Get in line.” David winked at her when she’d turned to pull Tyler into the embrace. He had an impish grin when it was his turn. “You look incredible.”
“You, too.” Now that he was close, she breathed in his heady scent, sandalwood and citrus. She had to stop herself from nuzzling her face into his neck. It was so tempting. The hug lasted a heartbeat longer than she’d expected, and she closed her eyes, relishing his strong arms around her waist.
Dinner was fabulous—fresh mozzarella and tomato salad, wood-fired pizza and spaghetti for the boys, seafood risotto for Alex and a rib eye, rare, with polenta for David. There had been a bottle of Cabernet, although Alex wound up drinking most of it since David was driving. He let the boys get two desserts, and they were so full they complained David was driving too fast on the way home. Alex wondered once or twice if he had bribed Page into his improved mood—he’d even played Rock, Paper, Scissors with Tyler at the dinner table. Whatever the reason, she was grateful for the glimpse of the boy she didn’t have to battle.
Once they were home, Tyler hardly made it into the house before his shirt was unbuttoned and halfway off, but he’d forgotten to unbutton the cuffs and walked in to the kitchen contorting his body and struggling to be rid of the garment.
“Hold the phone, Ty.” David set the doggy bags on the kitchen island. “Let’s get you out of this thing.” He wrestled the shirt from Tyler’s skinny arms. “Be free.”
Tyler tore off down the hall bare-chested.
Alex yelled after him, “Time for PJs, Ty. And brush your teeth.”
David made a poor attempt at folding the shirt. “I hated wearing a shirt with a collar when I was his age. He did pretty well.”
Page fiddled with his phone, yanking at his tie with his other hand. “I’m going to bed. Thanks for dinner.”
“You got it. We have a guitar date tomorrow, right? Just you and me? No moms or little brothers?”
David and Page exchanged a high-five and Alex smiled. So that was the bribe.
Page wandered down the hall toward the other side of the house and his room.
“You up for a bottle of wine after you read to Tyler?” David asked.
“I was thinking about a swim. It’s so warm outside tonight. Can we do both?”
“That can definitely be arranged.”
A half hour later, wrapped in a beach towel, Alex went out to the pool, but there was no sign of David. He’s probably still changing. She flung the towel onto a chair and hopped in. She’d never been much of a swimmer as a kid; it wasn’t like there was a lot of money for activities like going to the pool. In fact, the PE class in high school when she’d first noticed David had been her first lesson.
She remembered sitting on the edge of the pool, her feet dangling in the water, the girls on one side and the boys on the other. The teacher, Ms. Barwell, in her black Speedo racing tank, explained how to do the backstroke, but no one was really listening. Hormones and giggles pinged around the room, exaggerated by humidity, accented by pungent chlorine. Alex knew no one and she had shyly scanned the row of boys, but there was no need to continue once her eyes landed on David—skinny, but with decent arms and a tiny bit of chest hair, in navy swim trunks. His hair was down to his shoulders, lighter and sun-streaked. The first smile she’d seen wasn’t meant for her, but she would never forget it—sweet and electric.
Of course, high school was a lifetime ago. She ducked beneath the surface and skimmed along the bottom of the shallow end, the water smooth against her skin, the underwater lights bright enough to shine through her closed eyelids. When she came up for air, David was waiting.
He offered her a plastic tumbler filled with red wine. “Safety first.”
“Thanks. I always wanted a Big Gulp of Merlot.” She took a sip before setting her cup on the pool deck and pushing off from the side, floating and staring at the sky, clear, black, and limitless.
David dove in—she was sure he was showing off, but she didn’t say anything about it, continuing to float, her ears underwater so all she could hear was the quiet rush of her own breaths. She closed her eyes and tried to let the world fall away—for the moment, things were okay. Just as she approached total relaxation, her feet and hands sinking deeper, there was a hand on her back.
“Ack!” Her head jerked out of the water so fast her hair flipped into her face. “Hey. That’s not very nice.”
“Oh, come on. I’m nice. I brought wine. I’m the ultimate pool boy.”
Alex smirked. “All right. I’m letting it go this once.” She gathered her hair to wring the water from it. “Do me a favor, pool boy, and swim down to the other end and bring back the floaties.”
“Your wish is my command.”
Kicking briskly, David pushed the pool floats back to the side of the pool in the shallow end. Alex hoisted herself onto one and David handed her their cups. Once he was situated on his own, he paddled backward and in a circle until they were facing each other, side by side.
“Here you go, pool boy.” Alex handed him his wine and draped her leg onto David’s float to keep them together. Reclining, she dropped her hand to laze in the water. “This does not suck.”
David coughed. “Uh, no. It does not.”
Alex drank in the quiet, thinking about the evening she’d had with the boys and David. She felt him shift on his float and was now aware of his leg against hers. She knew she needed to do a better job of controlling her thoughts about David, but she didn�
��t really want to. The wine had left her feeling wonderfully loose and tipsy. She liked having him this close to her, especially when he wasn’t wearing a shirt. It gave her an excuse to look at his belly button. He had a mole an inch or so below it and she imagined what it would be like to touch it with the tip of her finger, kiss it. She rolled her head to the side and opened her eyes halfway. David was looking right at her.
He glanced down and away.
Is he blushing? He’s so adorable with that look on his face. She nudged his hip with her foot. “You know what I was thinking about earlier? The very first time I ever saw you.”
“The school cafeteria?”
“No. That was the first time we talked. I saw you during PE the day before that. It’s kind of funny to think about now. I was so nervous.”
“I’m sure it was hard being the new kid. I never had to do that.”
“I was so excited when you talked to me the next day.” She felt a rush of heat in her cheeks; a smile she was unable to fight bloomed on her face.
“You were? You hardly said anything to me.”
“I was in shock. You were so cute that I couldn’t think of anything to say. I was really hoping you were going to ask me out. Like that was ever going to happen.” She shook her head. “God, I had such a monster crush on you.”
Chapter Twelve
Images came flashing back at full-tilt, a dizzying mental slide show of Alex and David and Glenn. Alex in the cafeteria—the day she wore the pink sweater and laughed at one of his jokes. Hanging out at Glenn’s house—David had to leave because he couldn’t stand to watch Glenn flirt with her. Senior prom—Glenn and Alex slow danced, even to the fast songs, and left early to hook up in the hotel room Glenn had saved up for. Double Damage’s first club show—David watched her from the stage as she stared adoringly at Glenn.
He had withstood years of mental anguish over having a close friendship with the woman he loved, the wife of his best friend. The revelation that he’d once had a sliver of a chance hit him like a ton of bricks. He sat immobilized, watching her, digging for words, but there were none. It felt impossible to catch up with the implications of what she’d said. I had my chance. I had my chance once and I didn’t even know it. I blew it.
It suddenly dawned on him he still hadn’t said anything in response to Alex’s admission. Before he knew what was happening, she eased off her pool float and dove under, headed for the deep end. He hopped in after her and his float tipped over, spilling his cup and what was left of his wine into the pool. Fuck. He spotted her near the bottom and dove for her, grabbing her arm and urging her to the surface. When they came up for air, Alex wouldn’t even look at him. She twisted her arm and he let go.
“I’m sorry,” she sputtered as she swam for the ladder near the diving board.
“Don’t be.” He swam after her, reaching the ladder at nearly the same time. He grabbed her arm again as she stepped on the first rung. “Alex, stop.”
She turned, but clamped her eyes shut the instant she saw him. “Really, David, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
“It just surprised me, that’s all.”
“I’ve had too much to drink. I should go to bed before I say something else stupid.”
“It wasn’t stupid.”
Alex tried to take the second rung, but her foot slipped. “Shit.” She put her hand on her forehead, hanging off the ladder.
“Okay, you. This is how people drown. We need to get you out of this pool.”
He placed her hand on the other handle of the ladder and held his arm out behind her in case she slipped again. She climbed out slowly, her hip grazing his chest on the way up, and he was happy for the slight chill of the water. He followed and grabbed his towel. Alex stood shivering, not having the sense to do anything more than clutch her towel to her chest. He took it and wrapped it around her before walking her inside.
They stopped outside her bedroom door, where she turned and finally faced him. He fought the urge to kiss her, just get it over with, but this wasn’t right. She was drunk and confused. Things weren’t supposed to happen like that. The towel slid off her shoulder and the sight of her neck and chest left his stomach burning.
“Can we forget this ever happened?” Alex blinked as if it was work to focus.
“Are you going to be okay?” Another wave of urgency hit, a deep need to abandon all sense of decorum and take her into his arms. He remained frozen, afraid to move, but that only made the boil inside him more difficult to tame.
She grimaced and shook her head. “I’m pathetic, but I’m sure I can manage to take off my clothes and climb into bed.”
David stood in the hall and watched her close her bedroom door. The click of the latch sounded so final, like a hammer striking stone. And that’s the end of that.
He meandered down to the end of the hall and his own room. The fluffy Hungarian goose down comforter on his bed mocked him. He’d read about it in GQ, it was supposed to be something women liked. Not that it matters tonight.
He hung up his towel in the bathroom and stepped to the long, white marble-topped vanity. He leaned toward the mirror, rubbing the dark stubble on his chin, and blowing out an exhalation. The evening had started perfectly. Alex was radiant at dinner, the candle glow shimmering on her cheeks, the smile she had for her boys lighting her from within. David had almost forgotten to look at the menu as Alex demonstrated her intoxicating habit of running her fingers across her collarbone while reading. On the way home, she’d touched his arm and leaned in to him when she turned to talk to the boys in the backseat. The simple pleasures ate at him.
If things had only been different—tonight or seventeen years ago, take your pick—he might be in her room right now, she might be in his. Images of Alex stretching to hang her towel on the hook, untying her bikini top and dropping it to the floor, allowing him to do the rest and pull on the ties at her hips, materialized before him. He’d imagined these scenarios hundreds of times; it was as if he had a private library of Alex movies tucked away in his head. This one, however, felt the most real any of them had ever felt. He could close his eyes and feel her presence… He had been this close.
Wide-awake, frustrated, and aroused, David turned on the shower and stepped out of his swim trunks, freeing his rock-hard erection. He stepped onto the slate gray tile, into the hot and steady spray, coming at him from every imaginable direction thanks to the dozen or more showerheads. He rolled his neck to the side and forward, feeling the tension ebb under the pressure of the warm water against his back and legs.
He reached for the soap and worked the lather in his hands as he closed his eyes and imagined Alex there with him, washing her long hair, eyes closed and back arched as the water beaded on her breasts and trickled down her stomach. She would catch him watching her and smile, turn away before she backed up into him, rubbing her luscious ass against him as he cupped her breasts and kissed her neck and she hummed in ecstasy.
David spread the soft lather across his chest and down his stomach, his breath catching in anticipation of the feeling of skin against skin. He widened his stance and wrapped his hand around his length, exhaling in relief as he tightened his grip. The soap was slippery and slick against his skin and he took the strokes long and slow, just as he imagined Alex would take her time with him, wanting him to savor every exquisite touch. He thought of her, being inside her, the warmth, the closeness, becoming enveloped by her velvety, tender skin. His breaths grew shorter as he hurried the strokes and his chest and stomach rumbled with the approaching release. He pumped harder and faster and his skin grew even tighter as the pressure bubbled in his groin. It raged inside him, an untamed surge of electricity and then pulsed out of him, every pleasurable wave a further dose of relief. His knees buckled for an instant with the final ripple and his shoulders dropped as he caught his breath.
He turned and stuck his face in the spray, allowing the water to rinse away the suds. He felt relaxed enough to sleep, as long as he could
dream of her.
Chapter Thirteen
I hope to hell that was a bad dream. Alex curled up under the comforter and rolled on to her side, peeking at the alarm clock. Six forty-three Sunday morning. There was probably another hour or so before Tyler would be awake and wanting breakfast. Page would sleep until noon if she let him.
Alex replayed the events of last night in her head, at least the parts she remembered, and groaned when she thought of the words that had decided to spew forth from her mouth. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if those feelings weren’t there any more. It would have been a drunken stumble down memory lane. No harm, no foul.
At least she’d cut her confession short. She hadn’t told David everything she once felt for him had come back in the last month. She’d stopped short of admitting her affection and attraction—the intangibles she’d once thought were reserved for Glenn—had merely been packed away and set aside years ago. She knew now she had been tuning out her deepest wants and desires, dismissing them as an irrational distraction from what she was convinced was good for her—Glenn. If there was one thing she’d learned, it was denial.
She dozed until Tyler noisily crept into her room. He jostled the bed as he climbed in with her.
“Mommy, it’s time to get up.”
Her eyes remained closed and she pretended to snore, stifling a smile. Tyler’s hot breath warmed her face in quick bursts. She tried not to giggle, but he set his finger on her eyelid and she laughed, tugging him close and tickling him without mercy as he squirmed and squealed.
“Tyler, you weren’t supposed to wake her up yet.” David stood in the doorway, grinning, gorgeous in light blue striped pajama pants and a white T-shirt. “Sorry about that. Breakfast isn’t ready.”
Alex let go of Tyler and swatted him on the butt as he rolled to the end of the bed. She sat up and pulled the covers to her chest, smoothing her hair. “Breakfast? You guys are spoiling me.”