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The Crossroads Duet

Page 8

by Rachel Blaufeld


  As if I could do that . . . after the kiss.

  I rubbed my hand over my face, then slid it down and gave Brooks a scratch on the head as I said, “Yeah, everything is fine. It was just a long day and I was exhausted. All I did was come home and collapse into my bed.”

  “Well, Christ fucking almighty, I was worried. I’m outside. I’ve got your gift, and some coffee,” he said, and I could hear the snow crunching under his boots in the background.

  “Oh. Well, one sec. Let me throw on a sweatshirt and I’ll be right there.”

  I disconnected the call and grabbed a ratty old Pitt hoodie, throwing it on over my tank and my tattoo. After sliding into my boots, I opened the door and shoved my hands in the big front pocket of my sweatshirt as I stepped out onto the porch with Brooks in tow, my pajama pants billowing in the wind.

  My dog abandoned me, running down the hill to a tree to relieve himself at the same time AJ pulled me into his arms and breathed in my scent deeply.

  “I’m sorry, Bess. So sorry, I was hard on you. I pushed too much, too hard. I know. Can you forgive me?” His hand dug into my arm, locking me in his embrace as he continued to inhale me.

  After wrestling loose a bit, I looked up and caught the fever in AJ’s eyes. They were searing with passion and need—for me. A shiver ran right through me. I’d never been so desired as now. And last night.

  By two different men.

  I swallowed my feelings and spoke. “It’s okay, AJ. I’m fine—we’re fine—but I just can’t go as fast as you. I need my space, and I need to work. It calms me.”

  His scruff from the day before grazed my forehead, his nicotine smell tickling my nose as he pulled me close again. “Yeah, I get it, baby. Like I said, I pushed too hard.”

  “And all those texts? You can’t do that, AJ,” I said into his broad chest.

  He stepped back and stared me down. “I know.”

  He turned back to the steps and went to his truck, grabbing two coffees off the hood before saying, “Forgive me?” while looking at me with puppy-dog eyes.

  I nodded and wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stay warm. Done with his business, Brooks stood on the porch next to me, looking up at me with his own big brown eyes, trying to will me to feed him.

  “Come on.” I opened the door and let AJ in, taking one of the coffees from him as we crossed the threshold. Brooks trotted in behind us, his tail wagging.

  I took a long sip before putting some food in Brooks’s bowl. As my dog began to munch away, AJ sidled close again. I was leaning against the counter, drinking my coffee, and he came right up to me and caged me in while setting his cup down behind me. He ran his nose along mine and whispered, “Merry Christmas, Bess,” and then he kissed me. He kissed me hard, his lips closed, as if he was sealing us together.

  It was such a déjà vu feeling, framed the same way I’d been the evening before against the locker room door. But this time I wasn’t falling or floating; this time I simply felt trapped.

  Yanking myself back to reality, I took a deep breath or twenty. I was having trouble filling my lungs with oxygen.

  “I’m sorry, AJ. I’m not myself. It must be the holidays and everything. I had to serve a lot of booze last night at dinner, and I guess it got to me.” There I went again, using my addiction as an excuse.

  Actually, a blue-eyed, dark-haired guy got to me.

  “Oh shit. I should’ve figured or asked.” AJ cradled his head in his palms, looking up at the ceiling as he murmured, “Shit, shit, shit.” Then he turned to face me and said, “We should get you a new sponsor. I’m too close to everything now.”

  “No!” I yelled. I didn’t want anyone else in my life. I had enough issues, and had no desire to get close with another stranger.

  “Shh, calm down,” he said as he leaned in and kissed my cheek. “It’s gonna be okay, sugar baby.”

  What was with the sugar?

  I didn’t have time to dwell on anything because with those words, he dipped his hand in his pocket and came out with a little gift box.

  “Here, open this.” He opened my palm, placing the gift there as he spoke.

  My hand trembled. What was it? Jewelry?

  I mumbled, “You didn’t have to,” and pulled the ribbon off in a swoop. It went fluttering to the floor like my heart had done less than twenty-four hours ago.

  Carefully, I opened the box to find a silver key ring inside. It was a large circle with a few charms hanging off of it—a Labrador, a B, a snowflake—and an unknown key.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said with a lump in my throat.

  I leaned against the counter and AJ moved in again, but this time he didn’t cage me in. He stood in front of me, keeping his arms at his sides, and leaned in so he could speak in a hushed tone by my ear.

  “I got it at the mall,” he said. “Picked the charms by myself. That’s the key for my place, so you can come by anytime you want. Morning, noon, or night, because you never have to ask. I always want to see you.”

  The breath whooshed out from my lungs. It was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to me, and I felt slightly tingly, but more prickly from guilt than happiness—guilt over feeling more tingly last night with Lane.

  And not melting at the words just spoken to me.

  I told myself I had to do something sweet in return, so I grabbed AJ and pulled him in for a hug, sealing my lips with his. Asking for open passage with my tongue, I swept it through his mouth and hoped to feel those melty feelings I thought I should be feeling.

  Then my doorbell rang, and Brooks immediately went nuts. My quiet corner of the country had never been so busy.

  I yelled, “Who is it?”

  From the other side of the door, I heard, “It’s Oscar from the resort, Bess. I have a delivery.”

  “What?” I mumbled to myself, and then called Brooks away from the door.

  When I pulled the door open, Oscar from shipping and receiving stood out in the cold with a medium-sized box in his hands.

  “Hey, Oscar. What’s this?” I asked while beckoning him to come in from the cold.

  “I don’t know,” he said as he stepped inside. “Management asked me to run it over.” With a shrug, he handed the box to me.

  Taking the package, I noticed the red ribbon dusted with silver sparkles and the small gift card on top. As I turned it over in my hands, assessing its weight and trying desperately not to shake it, I said, “Oh. This is strange, but thanks.”

  Oscar stepped back, opened the door, and crossed the threshold as he called out, “’Bye,” but I didn’t really notice or care.

  Because I was pretty certain I knew who the box was from, and I was equal parts scared to death . . . and dying to open it.

  Bess

  Later that evening as dusk fell, I sat at my kitchen table. A candle burning in front of me created the only light in the room as I twisted the tiny piece of paper in front of me, catching random letters and numbers in the flickers of candlelight. Afraid to stand and see my reflection, I stayed in my seat.

  I was a horrible person.

  After the package arrived, I dropped it onto the counter and asked AJ if he wanted to walk Brooks with me. We’d strolled down the hill, holding hands. With my right hand nestled inside his big left one, I’d carried the leash in my left.

  We made it all the way down to the frozen stream, where AJ grabbed me with a sudden fierceness and pulled me into his arms for a kiss. I refused to let go of his lips, deepening the kiss until we were ready to strip naked in the freezing temperature.

  It was greedy on my part; I know. But I’d been shaken by the gift box and the waves of emotion still swimming in my stomach from the night before, and I needed to feel content—fulfilled and comforted. Because there was no way Lane could want any of that with me. I was a phase to him; he was slumming it or something.

  So I used AJ.

  This was exactly why people in recovery didn’t get involved with their sponsors, or often—with any
one. There were too many lines to cross, and I crossed them all when I dragged AJ back up the hill and into my bed.

  My panties had been soaking wet and my heart racing. Neither response was for him, but that didn’t stop me from ripping his clothes off before pushing him back onto the mattress and straddling his muscular body. As I’d leaned in to kiss him, his hand wound its way down to my core and his fingers slipped easily inside me.

  “You’re so wet,” he’d said before finger-fucking me—it was nothing more than that.

  “Oh.” I gasped, throwing my head back in ecstasy, my eyes glued shut, my core tightening for someone who was not even close to being in the room.

  Sex and lust swirled in the air as AJ removed his hand and curved it around my back, pulling me in again.

  “Sweet baby, I love seeing you let go like that,” he whispered before tucking my hair behind my ear.

  I wanted my hair back. It was my shield. I couldn’t look into his eyes without seeing the absolute horrid truth of the scenario, so I didn’t. Squeezing my eyes tighter, I reached across the bed, grabbed a condom, and after slipping it on him, rode AJ like a stallion, leaving nothing behind.

  He held my hips in place, giving himself purchase to push up and deep inside me, and I clenched my legs around his massive thighs, picking up speed with every thrust. Sweat beaded on his chest and I slowed for moment, leaning over and licking the tiny salty trail before making my way to his nipple.

  As I swirled my tongue around the sensitive nub, I picked up speed again with my hips until I finally had to sit up. Placing my hands on his chest, I went buck wild, chasing another orgasm, or some kind of relief from the heat I was feeling.

  All the while, my stomach dropped like I was on a carnival ride. Regret threatened to rise up in my throat as I treated AJ like my own stud dog. I shoved the emotion back every time I slammed my pelvis down on his, until we both were satiated physically.

  But only one of us was fulfilled emotionally. And it wasn’t me.

  Now as I stared into the open flame in front of me, scanning the piece of paper in my hand, determined to find some reason to let it drop into the fire and watch it burn—I couldn’t.

  The paper had been sealed in an envelope in the bottom of the box, covered by a bag of lemons, a fancy beach towel, and a dog collar to match my recently acquired leash.

  Feigning tiredness, I’d let AJ down easy. I’d been nice enough to wait for him to pull his pants back up, head out to his car and light a cigarette, then drive down the road before I ran to the box.

  As soon as he was out of sight, I grabbed the package, set it on the table, and ripped it open. When I saw the towel, I’d scratched my head in confusion . . . until I opened the long envelope.

  I stood stock-still, staring in shock at the single piece of paper until it fluttered to the floor—the way my body felt like it wanted to.

  Overwhelmed and unsure about what any of it meant, I decided I should at least open the card still taped to the outside of the box. Inside was a piece of WildFlower stationery with the name and address of the hotel crossed out in dark blue ink.

  Dear Bess –

  I wish I could say I’m sorry for my behavior in the hallway last night, but I can’t. I have some inexplicable draw to you, Bess Williams, and it doesn’t seem to be going away. After our last meeting, I tried to let it be and get back to life, but there was always a nagging desire to see you again.

  I promise you this last meet-up was somewhat coincidental. My original intentions were to see my brother, since I hadn’t seen him in a while, but when he said he was going to the WildFlower for the holidays . . . well, I couldn’t resist the temptation of going too.

  I have to head back to Florida to work, but want to see you again soon.

  Please don’t presume the gifts inside are too much. They’re not. I hope the towel lures you out of the cold temperatures to come and see me where there is sun year round.

  I’ve taken the chance you will say yes and included a ticket with no date restrictions. Use it whenever you can escape work.

  We also have plenty of water and lemons in Florida, but this will keep you until then. I also included something for your pup. I don’t want him to feel left out.

  I’m leaving my number at the bottom of this note. Please call me when you get this, and any other time you wish.

  And to let me know when you can come and visit.

  ~ Lane

  P.S. If you have trouble with management taking off work, I’m sure I could pull a few strings.

  This time the card flitted to the floor, joining the ticket, and I slumped down next to both of them. I wasn’t really sure how much time I wasted there, but it was dark when I finally got up, and that was mostly due to Brooks pacing by the door, needing to go to the bathroom.

  Standing on the dark porch as I waited for Brooks, I watched the stars and dreamed of Florida, tanned skin, and ocean air. And in my daydream, there wasn’t the faintest whiff of evergreen or nicotine anywhere.

  AJ

  Six weeks later

  Something was up with Bess, and it wasn’t just recovery bullshit. It was more, and I knew it since the day after Christmas when she fucked me like I was nothing but a hard cock, then pretended to be exhausted afterward, putting off spending time together.

  Since then, she’d asked me to “slow things down.” She rattled off some bullshit like, “I care about you, AJ, but I don’t want to take advantage of you. We’re better off as friends, I think. Either way, we need to slow things down. Think about what we want. Blah, blah, blah.”

  What the fuck? Slow what down?

  She’d never used the key I’d given her to my place, she picked up all kinds of extra shifts at work, including dinner, and she’d started going to the morning meeting on her day off. She knew damn well I couldn’t go to morning meetings. That was when I checked on my crew, and if I didn’t show up, they goofed off.

  Fuck! I punched the air as I paced my large wraparound deck. It was nearly Valentine’s Day, and this had been going on for too fucking long.

  I’d just come home from a meeting, one that Bess said she would try to attend. But she texted and said she took someone’s dinner shift and added, I don’t think we should go to the same meetings. Too much hidden baggage and not good for the group.

  Why not? We weren’t together anymore. We’d done nothing but hug since the day she used me and tossed me out. I’d made a proclamation, given her a key, and apologized. She’d been dismissive of everything—except the thorough fucking. And now she was worried about the group.

  Fuck the rest of everyone else.

  And I still loved her. I’d been infatuated with the dumb girl since she stepped foot out of the treatment facility and opened the passenger door to my car. I’d be damned if I didn’t make this work. She needed me.

  I decided to do something about it and stomped down off the deck, heading straight for my truck. I threw the door open so hard, it almost fell off the hinges, then I climbed in and sped off.

  As I entered the bottom of the very long and pretentious driveway leading to the WildFlower, I experienced a single moment of regret. Perhaps I was acting irrational? But then I tossed that thought aside and climbed the steep drive up to the main hotel in my four-by-four, pulling right up to the valet circle.

  “Hey, man, I’m just stopping in to see someone who works here. Want to leave it out front?” I asked the young dude.

  “We’re not supposed to do that, but as long as you’re quick, no problem, sir,” he answered, all professional in his little valet vest.

  I tossed him the keys and walked toward the entrance.

  “Who’re you visiting?” he called after me.

  I hesitated, not wanting to answer, but felt like the asshole was doing me a favor.

  “Bess Williams,” I called behind me.

  “Sorry, man, but I think she just headed out. She needed another one of the staff to do a favor for her, and they left about five minutes a
go. I was on break, so I saw them leaving out the rear entrance.”

  He tossed my keys back, dismissing me.

  “What favor?” I demanded to know.

  He shrugged. “Don’t know, buddy.”

  I wasn’t his buddy, but I let it go.

  “Do you know which direction they were heading?”

  “Listen, I shouldn’t have even got involved. I’m not supposed to discuss staff comings and goings.”

  “Yeah, I got you,” I bit out, before jumping back in the cab of my truck.

  My tires crunched along the wet gravel as I pulled up in front of Bess’s place. The porch was backlit from the house, and I could make out Bess leashing Brooks and handing him off to another woman.

  What the hell?

  Brooks never went on a leash. Who was the other woman? What was Bess doing with her precious dog? So many questions ran through my mind as I jumped out of my truck and stomped toward the two women. They both were staring at me like two does caught in the headlights and it was hunting season.

  Actually, they were, but I didn’t have a gun. Just lethal anger pumping through my veins.

  “AJ, what are you doing here?” Bess called from the porch.

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe looking for you? After all, we were dating, getting to know each other real well, and then you dropped me like a hot potato. Kind of like it looks you’re about to do with your dog.”

  My words dripped with venom, and my muscles were tense from anger. A thick cloud of negative energy circled me that even I could sense.

  “Um, I don’t know what you mean. I’m not dropping Brooks and I didn’t drop you. And I have company, so I don’t feel comfortable discussing this right now,” she answered back.

  I’d made it up the front steps by now, and I didn’t care that she had company.

  “Hey, I’m AJ.” I stuck my hand out to the other woman, who was much older than Bess. Probably mid-fifties, and wearing a WildFlower housekeeping uniform.

  “May,” she said quietly, holding Brooks on his leash.

 

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