by Lisa Eugene
He wore a shirt and tie, his briefcase at his feet. The bank was usually busy this time of year and sometimes my dad worked weekends.
“Did you walk from the train?” he asked, approaching me.
I nodded, reaching into the fridge to pull out a bottle of water.
“You should’ve called. I would’ve picked you up. You didn’t have to walk.”
Shrugging, I looked at his concerned gaze. “I don’t mind.”
“How was your anatomy lab practicum?”
I hesitated, taking my time twisting the cap off the water bottle. “I didn’t get back my results yet,” I lied. I didn’t feel like getting into it with him. He wouldn’t be thrilled about my second-place achievement.
He regarded me, brown eyes assessing. I looked away.
“I’m sure you did well.”
Nodding, I took a sip. He gripped my chin, turning my gaze back to his, then stared for a moment before smiling. “We’re proud of you, Alexa. You mean everything to us, and you’ve come a long way. As long as you stay focused, you’ll achieve your goals.”
I returned his smile, noting that he seemed more relaxed today. His words meant a lot to me, always have. “Thanks, Dad.”
“I’m off to work!” he said, picking up his briefcase.
I waved as he headed through the door.
Just then, Mom came into the kitchen carrying a pile of books.
She greeted me and I took half the stack, following her into the garage.
“Dad’s in a good mood,” I commented.
“He got back the Mercedes last week,” she stated, placing her books on a shelf. I moved next to her, adding mine.
“That’s great.”
“And, because of some strange clause in his insurance policy, his deductible was covered.”
My hand stalled. I felt a spurt of happiness and relief. “Wow. That’s wonderful news.”
“Yup. He didn’t have to shell out a penny. You know how hard he’s worked to be able to afford that car. We wouldn’t have had the money to fix it, especially with having to make payments for medical school.”
I knew Mom wasn’t trying to make me feel bad. She was simply stating a fact. The medical school loans I’d taken unfortunately didn’t cover everything and my parents helped me financially. I couldn’t avoid the splash of guilt that hit me.
“How did things go with your lab practicum?” she asked.
“I got the second-highest grade in the class,” I confessed.
Mom’s delicate brows drew together and she covered my palm with hers. “Don’t worry, you’ll do better next time.”
“Can you not bring it up with Dad?” I asked. “I told him I didn’t get it back yet. You know how he can be.”
Mom sighed, shaking her head. “I don’t like keeping things from him.”
“I know, but I’ll tell him after the holiday.”
She nodded, wiping her hands on a nearby rag. I gave her a thankful smile and followed her back into the house.
Later, I was moving boxes off a shelf in the garage when I spotted my parents’ wedding album. Surprised to find it there, I pulled it off the top shelf and flipped it open. Mom entered the garage, stopping when she saw what I was doing.
“What are these pictures doing out here?” I questioned, looking up at her.
She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “There wasn’t any room in the cabinet.”
I sank my teeth into my bottom lip and studied her as she hoisted a box from one shelf to the other. I didn’t know how she could do this physical work in a turtleneck. I was sweating in just a button-down.
“Mom, is everything okay with you and Dad?”
She turned and gave me her patient motherly smile. “Of course, dear.”
I sighed, dropping my gaze when our eyes met. There was so much that we never discussed, so much history that we’d both rewritten or erased altogether from the pages of our lives.
“I needed some extra space and had to rearrange things a bit,” she explained. “We hardly ever look at these old pictures.” She was beside me now, tucking the photos back into their pockets and closing the album. I caught another glance at the picture before it was put away. Mom was in her wedding dress, smiling brightly, a light of hope in her eyes. I couldn’t remember ever seeing her look like that.
“Did you vote last week?” she asked and I nodded. “The polls were crowded. In some parts of Manhattan they turned people away.”
“Really?” I asked robotically, although I’d heard.
“Imagine that, showing up to exercise your right to vote, and being turned away?” She tsked several times, replacing the album back on the top shelf.
“Mom?”
She turned to me, eyebrows raised high over her blue eyes.
I took a step to her and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. Her arms slipped around my waist and we hugged for a long time. It was what we did best.
Dex’s flight was due to land at 11:30 p.m. I figured by the time he cleared customs and got out of the airport, it would be well past midnight, but I told him to text me anyway to let me know he’d arrived safely. I got a text at 12:15 a.m., and relieved, I was finally able to roll over and fall asleep. I had lecture early in the morning, but with an extra cup of coffee, I’d be fine. I just needed to know he was okay.
The next morning we tried to find time to get together, but between both our schedules, it seemed impossible. He had a client visiting from out of town and was swamped with work since he’d been away for two weeks. I had lectures all day and was scheduled to volunteer on the rehab unit.
We agreed to meet up on Saturday for the engagement party.
I was shocked when he unexpectedly showed up at my door two days later. It was almost midnight when I pulled open my door and upon seeing them, threw myself into his arms, uncaring that I might be freaking him out with such a blatant display of affection. Happy to see him, to have him flesh and bones in front of me, I let myself sink into his body. His strong arms slid around my waist. I felt his nose push into my hair.
God! He felt good.
“Dex! I can’t believe you’re here! What a great surprise.”
I pulled back and connected our gazes. The look on his face arrested me. He was smiling, but there was no joy in it. The gray of his irises was dull and uncharacteristically bleak. His hair curled onto his forehead and a carpet of dark stubble covered his jaw. I now noticed the faint scent of alcohol and smoke clinging to him like a companion. I’d first thought he’d come from work. He’d said he’d be working late every night this week, but he’d most likely just come from a bar.
“Sorry for just stopping by.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking sheepish. “I just…don’t want to be alone tonight.”
My heart wrenched at the despondency I heard in his voice, the way it reached out as if trying to grab hold of something. He took my hand, lead me to the couch. I wondered what was going on, but followed without question, settled next to him as he leaned back against the cushions. He twirled a finger through a lock of my ponytail, silently studying it like it was a great puzzle.
His lips tilted slightly. “I missed you, Stats. Really, really missed you.”
I smiled, watching him melt into the couch. His thighs hung off the edge, knees bumping the coffee table. He didn’t seem drunk, but he’d definitely been drinking.
“I missed you too.” The words were heartfelt. “I was so scared when I heard about the crash.”
He sighed heavily, wistfully. “Funny thing, death. You never know when it’s gonna happen. One minute you’re rolling along thinking everything is fine, and then—bam, it’s over.”
I listened, wondering if he was feeling fatalistic after his experience. Certainly an event like that would be cause for introspection. I remembered what he’d said about his childhood. It had crushed me to hear what had happened to him. At the same time, I was more in awe of his success, of his person. He was a survivor. I’d really wanted to know more about his
childhood, but had sensed it wasn’t a subject he readily talked about. I hadn’t pressed. I was one who understood keeping secrets.
“I often wonder if my mother is alive or dead. I’ll never know,” he said, as if reading my mind. “I have a picture of her in my head, but over the years I’m not sure it’s a real memory, or just one of the head shots the cops showed me.”
I swallowed slowly, facing him. “Childhood memories can be like that.”
“A blend of fact and fiction.”
“Although I think sometimes the mind will try to protect us by altering memories. Especially the painful ones.”
He nodded. “I was so scared on those church steps. I kept thinking there was a mistake, that maybe she just forgot me. I wanted to go back to the church. I thought that’s where she’d be looking for me to take me home. I was angry when they wouldn’t take me back.”
“I would think that, too. Children are very concrete. I’d want to go back.”
“I did,” he confessed softly, his voice filled with gravel. “When I was older. I went back every year on my birthday—because if there was any day she’d come, it would be that day. I sat on the church steps and waited.”
My heart broke for that lonely little boy. I felt honored that he chose to share this with me.
“What about your father?”
His eyes darkened. “He took off even before my mother did. I think that’s what pushed her over the edge. She couldn’t cope alone, with a kid. Him, I don’t recall at all—just all the bad stuff my mother used to say about him. The cops couldn’t find him, either.”
“Who knows why people do what they do?” I murmured, knowing there was no answer to that question. “What happened after…after you were left?”
His hand fell out of my hair and landed on my thigh. He drew tight circles with a finger, sending a line of sparks down my leg. “I was adopted by a couple who couldn’t have children. They were great.”
“Were?” I frowned.
He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. His gaze swung away. “They lost their lives in a boating accident when I was in college.” He seemed far away, even his voice sounded displaced. “I was nineteen, getting ready to go home for the holiday. The dean came to my room. I can still remember the sound of the knock on my door. I knew something was wrong. He wanted me to go with him, but I insisted he tell me right there and then. Henry was there—packing. He was my dorm mate.”
“God, I’m so sorry,” I whispered. I wanted to wrap my arms around him. I wanted to swirl him in comfort, but even though he was sitting on my couch, he was mentally somewhere in the past, nineteen and all alone again. Hurting. I couldn’t imagine the things this man had gone through. How did one recover from so many losses?
The blows fate had dealt him had been harsh. It seemed, though, that he’d been spared this time around. He’d missed the plane. Who knew why things happened?
“Henry didn’t go home for the holiday. He cancelled his trip, stayed with me the whole time, went to the funerals. He drove me nuts!” He laughed lightly.
“Henry’s a good friend.”
His gaze slammed into mine, the impact making its way to my toes. “So are you.”
The air barely moved. Some undefined emotion filled our space, surrounded us. He drew me in like a strong ocean current, but afraid of drowning, I looked away. He squeezed my knee and pushed upright on the couch. “I’m sorry I’m laying this all on you. You’re probably tired. I know you have early mornings this week.”
I shook my head. Honestly, I said, “No, I don’t mind, really. I’m glad to see you.”
He stood, a little unsteady. “It’s late.”
I stood up, too. “Why don’t you stay the night?”
He swiveled and we were face to face, so close that I felt his warm breath brush against my forehead. If I rose on tiptoe and tilted my chin, our lips would connect. If I swayed forward, our bodies would brush. If things were different… If I were different…
Heavy-lidded gray eyes darkened and he gave me a look that sent tingles racing over my skin. My nipples hardened instantly, and my belly tightened as a whisper of awareness skated down my spine and curled into my sex. God, this man was gorgeous. Intoxicating. Some emotion filled me to the edges, so deep and intense that my heart hurt.
My breath hitched as sudden panic reared up in my chest. The feelings kindling to life were as frightening as they were profound. My body flooded with heat. With fear.
What the hell was wrong with me? Taking a step back, I turned away, breathing rapidly.
“You’re a little big for the couch, but if you don’t mind it, it’s yours.”
“Sounds good to me,” I heard him say as I went to fetch some blankets.
Chapter Twelve
Dex
The engagement party was in full swing when we got there. I was surprised by the crowd. Tables sat on one side of the room and on the far end was a dance floor and DJ. A large chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling, dazzling the crowd, touching on smiling faces and bodies moving around the room. There was one particular face that seemed to absorb the radiance, whose smile outshone the hanging crystals.
Alexa was having a conversation with her friend, wishing her well I imagined. I was at the bar, getting a drink, but mostly watching her. After dinner she’d grabbed her pocketbook and disappeared. I’d done a quick search, and not finding her, I’d headed to the bar. I’d grown a little frustrated. It seemed she was always disappearing.
Now, my gaze followed her across the room, and I couldn’t pull my eyes away. She was beautiful. Fucking stunning. The most attractive thing about Alexa was the fact that she had no idea how breathtaking she was. I’d already intercepted the gaze of a few men I’d wanted to strangle, warning them off with a proprietary look. I wanted to growl, beat my chest, mark her so other men would know she wasn’t up for grabs.
It was selfish. She wasn’t mine. But damn, it was hard watching men gobble her up with their eyes. And I, too, had to stop staring.
The whole plane thing was still freaking me out. Death meant nothing to me. Death and sorrow were old friends. But the thought of being without Alexa scared the shit out of me. That had been my first thought when I’d heard that the plane went down. If I’d been on that flight, I’d never see Alexa again. That near-death experience had put things in perspective. It had put my heart in perspective.
Who knew why things happened? Why had I been spared? Why had I been granted another chance? After everything that had happened in my life.
Our friendship meant everything to me and I couldn’t risk it. I had to force my feet to turn around, force my body to stop wanting her, and force my heart to stop longing for something that couldn’t be.
Before I could move, she looked up and our eyes locked. She smiled and something twisted tight inside my chest. I raised my drink and shot her a wink. Even from here I could see the pretty pink spread across her cheeks before her attention was usurped by her friend.
A few minutes later, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned and Alexa stood in front of me, a bright smile on her face. She was radiant, her hair down tonight. What surprised me was the dress. I didn’t even think she owned one. It was a far cry from her prolific wardrobe of sweats and sweaters. She wore her glasses, but her eyes seemed brighter somehow. Maybe it was the excitement of tonight. I’d like to believe it was because I was here, because we were together. I wanted her so badly it was killing me. She had a wine glass in her hand she’d been nursing all night.
“Are you having fun, Stats?”
She nodded and grinned. “Way better than the last one, but I have you to thank for that.” Her head swiveled back to our table.
We’d been seated with three other couples and as soon as we’d sat down, they’d pounced on us, asking nosy questions about our relationship. They’d wanted to know how long we’d been dating, where we met, and did we live together. After deflecting the inquiries, I’d told them we were brother and sister. Alexa had
almost choked on her wine, but played along.
All through dinner, I’d put my arm around her, at times drawing her close and whispering intimately into her ear. I’d told the flabbergasted couples stories about us growing up together, about how close we were, and how we used to sneak into each other’s room at night so we could sleep together. One of the women almost gagged when I told her my sister and I took baths together until we went off to college, and how Mom and Dad always cautioned us about saving water.
The looks we got had been priceless. It was all Alexa could do to keep a straight face. I’d held her hand and trailed a finger up her arm and along her neck, biting back a laugh when she shot me warning glances. Then she turned the tables on me, and well…it hadn’t been so funny anymore. I was rock hard and in need of something stronger than table wine.
“They think we’re screwing siblings.” She laughed.
“Or maybe just crazy best friends playing a joke on them.”
She chewed her lip and eyed the table again. “You think they’re on to us?”
I shrugged, sliding a hand in the pocket of my suit pants to keep from touching her.
“Maybe.” I motioned to her glass. “Want something different?”
“No, I’m good.” She smiled, tapping her foot to the music,
The music was good. A popular song was playing that I liked. The rhythm started moving through me, the beats making me restless. I stole her glass and set it on the bar along with my beer bottle, then I grabbed her hands and dragged her toward the dance floor. Her eyes widened in sudden alarm.
“Dance off!” I chuckled as color washed over her face.
“No way!” She gasped, her feet slowing like they were moving through quicksand.
If there was any chance of being seen on the dance floor, I wouldn’t be anywhere near it. But this side of the room was dark, and the dance floor was crowded with gyrating bodies.
“No one will see us, I promise.”
She bit her lip and frowned, her gaze surveying the crowd.
“What are you, chicken?” I asked. I couldn’t help it, and I laughed when she shot me the evil eye.