by Renee Dyer
“Damn it, Hunter. He could have really hurt you.”
“He was going to hurt you.” The concern in his eyes is too much to think about. I need this night to be over.
“Thank you. Let’s get you home.”
It’s a quiet ride to his house, neither of us wanting to talk about the awkward moment we shared at the bar. His concern seemed to be more than you feel for a friend, but that’s silly. We haven’t seen each other in years, and even then, he never saw me that way. I was one of the guys. We hung out all the time, threw the ball around. He came to me for girl advice. As much as I had a crush on him, he never reciprocated. I had more broken hearts because of his lack of interest than he’ll ever know.
He can’t see me that way now.
It’s not fair.
It’s not even a little okay.
“Pull into the third driveway on the right,” he instructs.
As we get closer, I realize where we are. “You bought your mom’s house?”
“I couldn’t believe she was going to sell it, but she said she wanted a brand new house. Blah! Pre-fab pieces of shit if you ask me. I want a house that tells a story.”
“I love this house. Did she ever paint over our height markers?”
“Nope. Still have them in there, small fry. Wanna come see?”
I know I shouldn’t, but I really want to see this piece of my past. “I do, but I also want to check your pupils. You went down pretty hard from that hit.”
“I’m fine, Bren.”
“Humor me, okay?”
He chuckles, but doesn’t argue as I turn off the car and we head into the house. My childhood rushes back at me as I walk through the door. Hunter and I met when we were in first grade. We became instant friends, my love for football cementing me as the coolest girl ever. I didn’t mind getting dirty, so all the boys would pick me in gym class. Having three older brothers definitely taught me to be tough. It didn’t matter how tiny I was, and the boys in school knew it. Hunter’s mom, Sally, was friends with my mom, so Hunter and I played together often. She started marking our height when we were seven, right up through graduation. Staring at the marks now brings back years of wonderful memories.
I can’t believe we ever lost touch.
“Want me to add a new mark?”
His voice jolts me from a time that was simpler—a time when I was happy more than I was sad. I turn, placing my back to the doorframe. I try to smile at him, but the reality of my life now creeps into those memories. I don’t want those years tainted by my frustration. I just want to hold on to the memories a little longer, box them up in my heart, and have them there for the days that feel too hard to survive.
All I can do is nod, too lost in my emotions to speak. The compassion in his eyes is almost too much to bear. It’s like he’s looking into my soul, like there’s no barrier to protect me from the world. I want to run away, run as fast as I can, and pretend he never saw my pain, but he stands in front of me. Close. The heat from our bodies combining. His hand goes over my head, the pencil skimming my hair. His t-shirt rubs against me and I have to close my eyes, stop myself from getting wrapped up in a moment I shouldn’t.
“Huh. I think you shrunk, small fry.”
“What?” I ask incredulously. As my eyes open, his lopsided grin greets me. “You’re messing with me, you shit,” I laugh.
“Actually, no. The mark is lower. I didn’t think you were old enough to shrink. You look good for an old lady.”
“Har-de-ha-ha. Keep laughing.”
“I like to see you laughing. It lights up your whole face.”
Struck stupid by his words, I simply stare into his eyes, searching for answers I need.
“I hate to see you sad.”
He places his hand on my cheek, the tenderness paralyzing me. I should stop him. What’s happening between us is wrong. But I’m tired of not being seen. I hate that people around me are waiting for me to break again. I’m ready to move on.
“I should have listened to my mom,” he whispers, his forehead pressing to mine.
“About what?”
I shouldn’t have asked. My heart was screaming at me to let it go, but my head was a different story. All the answers, the need to be me and have someone want to be with me took over. I was helpless to myself.
“She said you would wait for me.”
“Wait for you? Hunter, I never had any idea there was something to wait for.”
“I know. I was a coward. Eighteen years old and I thought I had all the answers in life. Going away to college was always my dream, but when I got there, there was no you to share it with. I almost dropped out.”
“How…how did I never know you felt this way?”
“Because I was a dumb fuck. Tonight…seeing those guys act that way around you, it made me angry. I have no right to feel that way about you. I understand I missed my chance, but I need you to know I will always protect you.”
I don’t know what to say. Too many years in my life I had wished he’d said these things to me. It’s confusing. My head isn’t in the right place to deal with this. I close my eyes again, needing a second to think, to try not to feel. But the warmth from his fingers, his head against mine, it has my insides swirling. Warning bells ring in my mind. I try to listen to them, but I keep getting brought back to the warmth. To him wanting me. The real me.
Slowly, I open my eyes. It’s a mistake. The intensity in his makes me ache for what I had, wish I could fix, and want in my life. Every possible scenario runs through my mind in seconds. Hunter…Nick…me—there are too many hearts involved. Too much to screw up. I should walk away. Tell him I’m sorry he never told me how he felt. But I can’t. I can’t stop staring into his eyes.
There was a time when this man was my comfort. He wasn’t a man then, not really. He was the boy I adored, who was morphing into something more. I let him go to be the person he needed to be and he never looked back. That’s what I’d thought, anyway. I stayed behind, heartbroken over what would never be.
Now he says it could have always been. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?
“He’s a fool if he can’t see what he’s letting go of.” His other hand finds my cheek, locking me in an embrace far too intimate for friends. I try to shake my head, silently telling him I’m not special, but he holds me in place, his brown orbs bearing down on me. “You could never see the treasure you are. Someone should show you what you’re worth.”
He pulls his head from mine and stares at me. I can see the question he isn’t asking. He wants permission to make the next move. I’m unable to say yes or no, afraid of the hurt I’ll cause. No matter what I do, I’ll be the one causing pain.
Can I let my mind go blank? Not think at all and let whatever happens, happens? Does it make me a bad person if I say nothing? I know the answer, but I hate knowing the outcome.
His face inches toward mine. His eyes start to close. The part of me that needs to be wanted rejoices, but my heart isn’t in this—it’s twenty minutes away, with the man I know is sleeping, waiting for me to come home. We may not be on the same page, but I belong with him, in our bed. Not here with a man I haven’t seen in years. A few minutes of feeling attractive can never replace the years of love I have with Nick.
“I can’t.” The words aren’t said loudly, but Hunter stops. His eyes stay closed and his breath fans across my face. His lips turn down, and I hate that I’ve hurt him. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he replies, opening his eyes. The sadness there guts me. “I shouldn’t have. Shit, Bren. I’m sorry.”
“I should go.”
He nods and drops his hands. When he steps back, I want to tell him to stay, but I won’t lead him on. I have nothing beyond tonight to offer him and I’m not willing to do that to him or myself. He wouldn’t even get all of me because my heart and mind wouldn’t be with him.
Sliding away from the wall, I try to walk away without looking back. I can’t take seeing what I’ve don
e, the hurt I’ve caused. Feeling like I’m taking the walk of shame, I slip past him, grateful he doesn’t stop me. His head droops on his shoulders, making me feel worse. I never should have come in here tonight—not when my emotions are in turmoil. It gave the wrong impression and someone who could have become a big part of my life is now alienated.
Stupid, inconsiderate bitch.
“Hey, Bren.” I stop, but can’t look back. “If he loves you half as much as you love him, it will all work out.”
I peer over my shoulder and his lopsided grin greets me. Before I can stop myself, I run back to him and wrap my arms around his waist. “Thank you, Hunter. For listening. For letting me be who I know I am. For protecting me. Hell, there are so many things I’m not sure I can explain.”
“Don’t go getting sappy on me now, small fry. I might stop thinking of you as one of the guys.”
I peek up at him and he winks. My heart feels lighter as I walk away again. “Hey, Hunter,” I call over my shoulder.
“Yeah.”
“Next time, don’t drink without making sure you have a ride home, okay?”
“I knew you wouldn’t leave me stranded.”
“I won’t be there to save you next time,” I say with a smirk.
“We’ll always save each other. When it matters.”
I smile and nod, glad I didn’t cause permanent damage.
“Show him you love him, Bren. Maybe that’s all he needs. Words aren’t always enough.”
“I will,” I choke out, emotions strangling me. I keep walking, and this time, he doesn’t stop me.
In the car, I spend my time thinking of Hunter’s parting words and how I can show Nick I love him. What happened, or almost happened, with Hunter, made me that much more aware of how much I love Nick. Guilt eats away at me and I wonder if Nick will be able to see what I’ve done? Should I tell him? If I do, will it decimate the little we have left? Can our relationship survive another hurdle?
I want to cry, anger at myself bubbling over. But I’m done crying. Tired of being weak. I’m going home and I will make Nick see how I feel about him. He’ll need to decide if he wants there to be an us. I pray that he does.
As much as I want to run straight to Nick, I take the time to shower off the smoke smell from the bar. The hot water eases some of the tension in my muscles and gives me time to build up courage. It’s late and we have to wake up with Brady in the morning, but I can’t wait any longer to have this talk with him.
Towel wrapped around me, I walk into our bedroom. The moonlight shines, allowing me to see the side of Nick’s face. His arms are under his pillow, leaving his chest exposed. He looks so peaceful. All the thoughts I had, the words I’d planned to say, escape me. I stand, frozen at the foot of our bed, staring at the man who makes my heart skip beats. My eyes travel over his lips and cheek, taking in the handsome face I fell in love with.
My towel drops to the floor and I climb into bed, pressing myself to his back and sliding my arm around his stomach. It feels so good to feel him against me, his smooth skin heating mine. “I’ve missed you, Nick,” I whisper, not wanting to wake him. Lightly, I place a kiss to his shoulder and pull away, hating the space between us instantly.
“Bren,” his tired voice reaches out to me and I stop moving, “are you alright?”
His body shifts to face me, and I throw myself into him. “I miss you.”
His arms wrap around me, squeezing me to him. He inhales, taking in my scent, awakening something between us that’s been missing for too long. My arms go around him and I hold on, needing him to know he’s my choice. Always.
“I miss you, too, Bren.”
“I’m so sorry. I haven’t been th—”
“Shh. No apologies tonight.”
His lips touch mine, hesitant, but when I push my body harder against his, he lets his passion break free. Months of holding back stops and we fully entwine. Flesh against flesh, lips to lips—we can’t get close enough. All the pain we’ve felt melts away as we reconnect on a level we thought we lost. His hands slip into my hair, his teeth nipping down my neck. Every ounce of his affection is let loose on my body. My mind shuts off and I finally allow myself to just feel.
The moon shines with our love and I wonder how I ever thought it was gone. Making love to Nick, I realize we weren’t lost.
I was.
Chapter Seventeen
Nick
Brenna and I spent hours talking, hashing out everything that has been wrong in our relationship. I explained to her that losing our physical connection was worse than being kicked in the nuts—repeatedly. It wasn’t just about the sex. I missed the kisses, running my hands over her back, hugs for no reason. Sex—not having it for months—was a problem too, but this was harder to explain to her. I wasn’t sure I knew the words to say, but I managed to tell her being with her isn’t only about the physical. It’s an added bonus. Hell, being inside her is pure heaven, but nothing compares to the way my heart races when she opens her arms to me. The gleam she gets in her eyes just for me. It’s an invitation to show her how much I love her.
Holding her in my arms is the reason I draw a breath each morning.
And I needed her to understand that.
When she looked at me like I hit her, pain drawing her features, my gut clenched.
“Bren, are we alright?” I ask, afraid of the answer. She can’t look at me and I worry I’ve missed my chance to make things right between us. For months, we’ve slipped away from each other and my way to fix it was notions of romance. Why did I never ask her what she needed? Tell her what I needed?
“I almost kissed someone.” Her admission comes out as a whisper, but the words crash through my heart. “I’m so sorry.”
“Do I know him?” I’m not sure why the question is important, but I need to know.
“No. I haven’t seen him in thirteen years.”
“H-how did you end up kissing someone you haven’t seen in thirteen years?” I shake my head, trying to erase the thought of my wife with another man, their bodies close enough for a kiss to almost happen. “What the fuck, Bren?” The words pour out of me, anger following them. “How could you do this to us? To me?”
“I couldn’t,” she answers, her voice shaking.
“But you wanted to?” I feel like I’m going to be sick. This is not how things were supposed to go. We made love, couldn’t leave each other’s arms. I thought our talk was going well. What the fuck?
“It crossed my mind.” She still can’t look at me, causing me to wonder what I’m missing. Did something else happen?
“Why, Bren? Why? You hate cheating. I accused you of it and you were ready to leave. Why would you do this?”
“He saw me, the old me. I wasn’t broken. Not to him. I was just the Brenna he always knew.”
“I see you.”
“Not like you used to.”
Like God himself took the time to place his hand on my shoulder, realization dawns. I take a step back, needing to see the whole situation. My wife almost kissed an old friend. In my need to fix things with her, I almost allow myself to blame it all on him, but I know it takes two to tango. Brenna was as much a part of this as he was. My mind swirls with questions. Was she giving off signals? Did she tell him we were having problems? Could she go to him when she couldn’t come to me?
I’m suddenly aware of how separate Brenna and I have become.
We haven’t tangoed in a long time.
What happened with her and this guy, whose name I refuse to ask, is a direct outcome of the lack of interest we’ve shown each other. I let her pull away, thinking if I sent flowers and chocolate we would magically fuse back together. It was a cover up for my feelings. Problem is, we both needed to feel. I understand that now. But, how do I get past this? How do we move forward with no animosity between us?
“You were on my mind the whole time, Nick.”
I want to believe her, but the Brenna I know would have never considered this. She’s al
ways said cheating is something you can’t come back from. Is she right?
“No matter how much I needed to feel like myself, be in control for a little bit, I couldn’t go through with it. You…you invaded my thoughts. I realized I haven’t been in control for a long time because you own my heart. Without you, it would cease to beat.”
“How did it go that far if you love me that much?”
Before my eyes, she transforms from the timid woman afraid to look me in the eye, to the one I’ve always known. She straightens, stretching onto her knees to get closer to me, and determination flares. I hate thinking it, but it turns me on. No matter how pissed I am, I’m weak to this woman. I want to shut her up with my kisses, lay her back on the bed, and make love to her again. She licks her lips, forcing me to hold back a groan. Damn it! I don’t want to talk anymore, but I know we need to. I would rather rush into her and get lost in each other, but there’s this mountain looming over us and mountains don’t bend. I have to man up, keep my dick in check, and hear her out.
We deserve my full attention.
“I lost faith in us. In you. I thought you didn’t want me, didn’t love me anymore. I was convinced you were figuring out how to leave me. It was stupid. I should have talked to you. Told you how I was feeling, but I was afraid. I didn’t think I could survive if you verified my thoughts. So, I pushed you away. I needed to protect myself. I’m so sorry.”
“Bren, I—”
“No, you didn’t do this. I did. If you’ll give me the chance, I’ll spend the rest of our lives showing you I was wrong. I will make this up to you, Nick.”
I can’t stop myself from pulling her into my arms. Her arms go around my waist and we simply sit there, our emotions and truths hanging in the air around us. I have a choice to make. I can break her down, or I can forgive her.
We’ve been angry for months. Too much time has been spent with us living apart. That we were in the same house doesn’t matter. We’ve just been existing. I’m tired of that. I want us back.
Sitting here, with Brenna in my arms, I know I can’t live without her. She’s my other half. And I’m hers. This—what we’re doing right now—is the beginning of us melding our halves. They were ripped apart, but we have a chance to be one again. My heart still hurts, but my head screams at me, telling me she didn’t actually cheat. Yes, she thought about it, but she couldn’t betray me. Not like that. Her heart remained with me.