by Marie James
“Whew! You smell like sex,” he says backing away quickly waving the air in front of him with his hand.
I reach down and smell my shirt. “I took a shower,” I say before I realize the setup.
“I fucking knew it!” He’s bouncing up and down like an idiot, looking more like a toddler than a grown man.
Busted.
“Would you settle down? There’s no sense in spreading your joy all over the office first thing in the morning.” I advise him before sitting down in my office chair.
He’s grinning from ear to ear like he’s just won the damn lottery at my slip up. I may know most of his tricks but every once in a while even I’m outsmarted, and he catches me slipping.
“What?” I ask when he sits down in the chair across from me and doesn’t say a thing.
“Are you going to spill it about London?” He looks hopeful; he shouldn’t.
“Do I look like the type of man that would sit here and give you details about anything that happened between a woman and me?” I raise an eyebrow at him. He doesn’t respond, but his smile falls just a bit. “Just because you want to tell the world every time you dip your stick in someone doesn’t mean I’m up for sharing.”
“But you do admit that you dipped your stick, right?” I glare at him and don’t respond.
Is this normal brother conversation? Kegan was so young when Savannah and I got together, so we never had sex conversations with each other. Well, he’s shared every detail anyone was willing to listen to since he became sexually active, but he knew better than to ask me questions about my wife. Why he feels like I’d share now is beyond me.
The thought strikes me that Kegan has never been serious about a woman before, and maybe my lack of detail sharing is due to the fact that I know I see London as more than a piece of ass which is all Kegan ever sees a woman as. Maybe it’s easier to guy talk about one night stands and quick fucks; my limited experience doesn’t allow for it.
“In no way shape or form am I going to discuss London with you; so you can stop trying to dig for information.” I reach over and hit the power button on my computer and wait for it to boot up.
“You seem happier,” he observes with a more serious tone.
He was the last one to see me before I left for the cabin with no plans to return. Even with our age difference we’ve always been close and leaving my parents a note was an incredibly horrible thing to do, but I couldn’t leave without seeing him. We had spent the day before I left working out in the gym at his apartment complex and the evening was spent in the bar of the hotel next door. He called me an idiot when I hugged him too long before he went home for the night.
That’s another reason I’m glad my plans have been diverted. I know he’d feel guilty and blame himself for not realizing what was going on with me if I’d followed through. It would be misplaced, but it wouldn’t make things any easier. I knew my suicide would hurt people I love and it’s one of the reasons I took so long actually to come to the decision to follow through, but I was more focused on ending my own suffering than being concerned for everyone else. I hoped that eventually they’d understand my actions even if they could never comprehend the level of suffering that comes with losing a spouse; I pray they never did. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
“I’ve gained,” I pause doing my best to think of the best way to put this, “some perspective.”
“Have anything to do with that hot brunette at your condo?” He’s taken a seat in the chair directly across from my desk. He hooks his ankle over the other knee looking like he’s getting comfortable and planning to stay awhile.
“I’m not talking to you about her, Kegan. You might as well leave it alone.”
I turn my attention away from him and enter my password to access my computer. It doesn’t work which isn’t surprising, much of the last year and a half has been spent in a drunken haze. Looks like I’ll have to have IT back up here to sort it out.
I look back at my brother and notice the look of patience on his face, a trait that doesn’t show up often. Just what I need is a nosey brother with time on his hands.
“Don’t you have a job to get to as well, brother?” I lean back in my chair; without access to my computer there’s little else I can do until the issue is corrected.
He looks at his watch and back to me. I can see him evaluating my level of seriousness about sharing the goods on London. I raise my eyebrows in challenge. He folds. “I guess you’re right.” He stands from his seated position and grins at me deviously. “Wanna watch the game tonight?”
I feel like he’s trying to test me once again and I don’t know which way to go with my answer. Deciding just to tell him the truth, “I have plans this evening.” I don’t expound, but I watch his smile grown in understanding.
“London.” It’s not a question; it’s a statement.
He’s right; my plans do include London this evening. I know after spending all day away from her after being with her almost every minute for a week and a half is going to be an adjustment to my system. It is because of this I know I’m going to want to be inside of her the very minute I get back to the condo.
“Have a good one, bro. Talk to you later.” I watch him leave the office and hear him say something flirty to Lisa on his way out, knowing he’s joking. He may be a manwhore, but he’d never cross the line with a woman who is taken.
After speaking to Lisa about getting the IT guy up here to get things set straight with my computer, I call the condo, inexplicably needing to hear her voice. She’s never given me her cell phone number so I can’t reach her that way or I’d text her. I smile as I listen to the phone ringing, wondering if she’d give me her cell phone number so I can text her dirty things throughout the day. The phone call goes unanswered, and I’m sure it’s because she’d feel weird about answering the phone in a place that doesn’t belong to her.
The IT guy enters my office to get my password issue corrected. I can tell by the look on his face that he’s not impressed one bit. I couldn’t even tell you how many times this man has had to come in here and do this very thing. This is the last time, buddy. I promise.
I tried calling the condo several times, but each one was left unanswered. For a split second, I hate technology. What I wouldn’t give for a good old-fashioned answering machine that I could scream into and beg her to answer, rather than the digital voicemail that accompanies the phone service at the condo.
I had every intention of asking her what she wanted for dinner. Since she never answered, I grab a couple of subs from the sandwich shop just down the road from my building. It’s the fastest meal to get, and I want to get back to the condo. I have no reason other than unanswered phone calls to be concerned, which isn’t a big deal, but that still isn’t keeping the dread from settling in my gut.
I squeeze my eyes closed at a red light and try to keep the memory of what happened the last time my calls went unanswered as well as calls placed to a cell phone. That night I came home to an empty house, and the worst thought came to mind. Savannah had been spending so much time at the office recently, but she’d always answer when I called, even if the call was answered with mild annoyance at being interrupted.
After driving by her work and seeing that her car, in fact, was not there, I went back home and waited. I’m certain I wore a path on the floor of the condo that night from all of the pacing, my head raging with thoughts of my wife with another man. The anger grew with each step and every unanswered call. All of which was explained shortly after eleven that night with a knock on the door I knew I should never have answered.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Who the fuck would be at my door at this time of night? I quicken my steps when I realize that maybe Savannah lost her purse which always housed her phone and her car keys.
The second I opened the door I knew that was not the answer. I knew what was happening the second I saw the forlorn faces of the two uniformed officers at my door.
I crumpled
to the floor, my body wracked with sobs before they could even confirm they were at the right place.
The blare of the horn behind me snaps me out of the horrendous memory I’ve lived through a million times since it happened in real time, adding to my guilt the fact that I let the idea of her cheating on me snake its way into my thoughts when in fact her lifeless body was being cut out of a twist of metal by the jaws of life. Ironic name for the equipment considering there was no life left in the car by the time first responders made it down the ravine to the wreckage.
I shake my head in an attempt to rid it of the thoughts that have become second nature almost, trying to keep the demons from sneaking up on me once again. I let my mind wander to London and how I hope I find her on the couch reading a book on her electronic book device. I smile knowing I’ll find her in tight-as-fuck yoga pants and a tank top.
I valet my truck when I get to the building because I just don’t want to have to waste any more time getting upstairs; they’ll park it right where I would’ve anyways. I drum my fingers on the top of the sandwich container as the elevator makes it slow climb to the condo. I make quick work of the lock and toss my keys down right beside an unopened bottle of Jack Daniels. My heart drops into my stomach because I know exactly what that bottle means. I thought I’d have more time before I had to deal with her.
I place the food on the breakfast bar in the kitchen on my way to search for London. The condo is cast in an eerie silence as I walk down the hall toward her room with dread in the pit of my stomach, afraid I’m going to find that she’s left. That the calls all day went unanswered because the delivery of the bottle on the front table came with a gamut of information she wasn’t prepared for and would refuse to deal with.
The gentle tap on her door remains as unanswered as the dozen calls I made early. I take a deep breath and slowly twist her door knob. Relief rushes through me as I see the lump in the middle of the bed. This may not be the best scenario to walk into, but, at least, she’s here and I can explain the mess I’ve made. On better thought, I need to dig a little and find out what she knows first. Not trying to be an asshole but the situation I had created before I met her is not something I feel the need to go into explicit detail over.
“Hey,” I say placing a hand on the back that’s facing me.
She turns her head slightly in acknowledgment but doesn’t fully turn over or even attempt to look at me. “You had a visitor today.” The rough gravel in her voice tells me she’s upset and has been for a while. When I don’t add anything she continues. “Beautiful, blonde. Ring any bells?”
My pulse begins to thump heavier at the sound of jealousy in her voice. I don’t even want to visit with the knowledge that I like it.
“Yes. Her name is Sierra. She didn’t tell you who she was?”
“Nope,” she answers. “She practically shoved her way in and tried grilling me about who I was and refused to tell me who she was.”
“She’s Savannah’s twin,” I explain, hoping she doesn’t try to dig deeper.
“Is that all she is, Kadin?”
So much for hoping.
“Sierra’s,” I sigh, “complicated.”
“She brought you a bottle of whiskey,” she says quietly.
“She likes me drunk,” I mutter shifting my weight on the bed so I can kick my shoes off.
I wait for another line of questions, but they don’t come. “I’ll talk to her,” I say softly running my hand up her back and freeing the hair that is partially blocking her face.
“I’m not here to interfere with your life, Kadin.” She sounds resigned as if she still feels like the situation we had back at the cabin has remained the same since we came here.
She won’t know things are different for you unless you tell her where you’re at with it. What if she doesn’t want things to be different with me?
Unable to fight the battle in my head right at this moment I turn my body so I can lie behind her on the bed.
“Please don’t,” she begs weakly.
Shame hits me over the situation with Sierra and how it’s affecting London, and she doesn’t even know part of the clusterfuck it is.
“I want you here, London. Don’t ever question that,” I whisper in her ear and leave her room, closing the door quietly behind me.
Even though Kadin left me in my bed alone yesterday evening, I still felt his body heat join mine late in the night. I welcomed the warmth and wanted to turn in his arms and hold him, but I didn’t. I couldn’t get a read on his emotions where Sierra is concerned, and it’s not something I wanted to hash out in the middle of the night, knowing he had to get up early for work the next morning. He was gone when I woke up, and the spot behind me was cold as if he was never there.
I stay in bed until I hear the apartment go quiet and then go in search of coffee and something to eat. I couldn’t even stomach the idea of food after the impromptu visit with Kadin’s friend yesterday. I know it has to be more than that. The way Sierra acted was so much more than a woman upset that her twin’s widower had another woman in his house. Her demeanor was territorial like she felt she had some sort of hold on him.
I round the corner into the kitchen and simultaneously gasp and clutch at my heart in surprise when I see Kadin standing in the kitchen eating a bagel. “I thought you’d be gone.” Well, that came out exactly how I felt it.
He gives me a knowing smirk and instead of just letting it pass he says, “You mean you waited for me to leave and I shocked you by still being here?”
He places his bagel on a napkin on the counter and reaches out his hand tugging me to his chest. I go willingly because honestly it’s exactly where I want to be. I rest my head on his chest and let the sound of his strong heart calm my racing one.
After a few moments of leaning into him and his hand stroking up and down my back, I feel his voice rattle in his chest against my cheek. “I was serious last night when I said I want you here, London.” He gently grasps my shoulders and shifts my weight back a few inches so he can look in my eyes. “I need you here,” he whispers.
His kiss is soft and gentle and if I’m reading it right, filled with more emotion than a man who just wants a fuck buddy. His hands don’t roam over my body; they clutch me to his chest. His hips don’t rotate against mine. This kiss is his way of affirming to me that I’m more valuable to him than I’d realized last night when he struggled to talk about Sierra.
“I want to spend the weekend with you,” he whispers after reluctantly pulling his mouth away from mine. “I want to lock out the whole world and spend every second wrapped around you.”
I swallow roughly, his words confirming my thoughts from just a minute go. “I’d love that,” I answer with a smile.
Over the next four days, without thought or plan, we’d ended up with a routine; one should any other person see from the outside spoke of domestication. Mornings began with amazing sex, not the shower quickies I’d grown used to with Trent but passionate and sometimes borderline crazy sex. Our nights ended much the same way.
After showers, I’d make coffee and breakfast; see him off to work, just to have dinner waiting for him when he got home. We’ve talked about everything under the sun. The one subject he’s brought up more than once is my employment. I finally had to tell him I had no intentions of working for him, which he said was fine, but I could tell he wasn’t happy about. Savannah is a subject he always steers away from. I mentioned her once, and I regretted it I think just as much as he hated me asking. After seeing his eyes darken and his demeanor change I knew I’d never bring up the subject again.
I spend the middle of my days running on the treadmill in the apartment gym downstairs and searching the help wanted ads looking for a job. I’ve tabled the idea of searching for another place to live even though he still keeps the door to his bedroom closed. My concern over this is squelched knowing he only goes in there to change now since he’s been showering in the bathroom in my room. I rarely see him going in there
and when he does it’s usually a quick in and out.
I think it was Wednesday evening while making out on the couch after ignoring the hockey game that I realized I was falling in love with him. He’d looked at me, for the first time since I crashed into his life two weeks earlier, like I was the only thing in his world that he could see. He’d stroked my cheek, and I got lost in eyes that said a slew of things that had never crossed his lips. That night we made love for hours not once feeling the need to rush to completion. I was certain things were progressing in our relationship even though we weren’t giving a voice to it. I could feel it, and I was certain he could too.
“London.” His voice holds something it never has before. He’s cupping my cheeks and his eyes enrapturing me to him. I couldn’t look away if I wanted to. I see pain, acceptance, and possibly even love in them.
Say it, I want to whisper. Say it and I’ll say it back.
He doesn’t; he’s not ready yet. I bite my tongue to keep myself from blurting it out. The demons he’s fighting are much stronger than mine. I can’t open my heart to him completely until I know he feels the same way. I can’t handle being the only one in love again. If I could, I would’ve stayed with Trent.
The feeling didn’t last long when he woke up in my arms screaming for Savannah. I know there’s no timetable for grief. I also know there is no way I can ever expect him to forget her. I’d never even ask. He loves her; he’d spent seventeen years of his life dedicated to her, but it didn’t lessen the sting I felt when he left my bed that night and didn’t return. The hurt was amplified when I woke up the next day, and he was already gone to work.
It’s now Saturday morning, and since he got home from work Thursday evening, we’ve ignored the subject, acting like it didn’t happen, and went right back into the routine we’d established. I’m not certain if that is the best thing or the worst thing that we can do, but apparently it’s not something either one of us going to bring up.