by Portia Moore
“What’s wrong?” she asks me leaning up towards my ear.
“Nothing.” I pull her body close to mine. I can smell the tequila she just drank. That’s gonna make her a lot more fun later on.
“You shock me more and more every day Chris.” She laughs breathily, and I try not to cringe when she calls me Chris.
“I’m full of surprises,” I whisper in her ear, and kiss the skin below her ear. Her eyes glitter with confusion and lust but it passes, and she throws herself back into the music. I think back to the days when I would watch her dance with her friends, she’d ride the beat of the music and I’d take her home and watch her ride me.
“Uhm since when did you become king of the dance floor?” Aidan taps me on the shoulder. I look back at him and fight the urge to tell him to get lost. I’m supposed to be Chris…
“Oh yeah, my girl just brings out the beast.” I laugh, and she blushes.
“Another drink?” Hillary pushes another one into Lauren’s hand. I start to stop her but then realize the more intoxicated she is, the easier it is to keep up playing dull farm boy with a heart of gold. She throws it back quick and I can’t help but think how sexy it is. But that’s drink number two, and I want her tipsy not falling over drunk.
“That a girl,” Hillary eggs her on. She smiles widely, her wavy hair is wild and makes her look like some type of hot Wonder Woman. She jumps back into my arms and kisses me with wet tequila on her lips, and I grip her waist before she pulls away. I feel her heart pounding against me, and this is what Chris and Collin don’t get. I light up a spark inside of her they’ll never be able to, they can’t copy what I make her feel. She pulls back, her face flushed, and she’s eyeing me looking caught between suspicion and lust.
“I’m hungry,” I say wickedly. Chris is always eating something, and it sounds like the right thing for him to say, and it’s not entirely a lie. I’m hungry just not for food. She smiles, a little at ease.
“Come on, Lauren. Let’s show them how we were back in The Vault days.” Hillary takes Lauren’s hands and they dance together—playful and flirty like girls do when they want attention. I head back to the bar and notice Aidan following me. Out of all the people who Chris likes, Aidan gets on my nerves the least. But if he realizes I’m not Chris, this night is not going to end the way I want it to and I look at this as practice for what’s to come.
I look around and see guys staring at our girls, and I laugh because I get to go home with her. They only get her in their dreams.
“Maybe we should break them up?” Aidan says nudging me. That’s the one thing we can agree on. We head towards them. I pull Lauren away from Hillary and into my arms and through the crowd putting some space between them and us. A slow tempo song comes on, and she looks up at me almost shyly, reminding me of when we had our first date. She leans her body weight on me, and she looks at me with a sexy grin on her face. I wrap one arm around her back and hold her close to me. She rests her head on my chest, and I run my hand through her hair and massage her back. I see the change, the alcohol flowing through her system. It has quieted her suspicions of me if there were any to begin with. She’s not a drinker other than the wine she likes, so she’s carefree now which means I can get away with more. I miss her—I’ve missed her being in my arms, moaning my name, saying my name. She sways to the music, and I guide her each step of the way, wishing that it was just us. Her skin is hot against mine, flushed red, and I bite my lip to maintain as Chris-like as I can, but this is hard… literally.
“Are you having fun?” she asks, her voice quieter—sensual. I have to lean in closer to focus so I can hear her.
“The time of my life,” I whisper in her ear and fight the urge to nibble on her earlobe. Instead, I just kiss it and when she shudders, it takes everything in me to stay on this dance floor with her. Chris wouldn’t pull her off and demand we leave to have our own party because Chris is “sweet.” I wrap my fingers around her wrist and lift it to my mouth to kiss the inside of it. Her eyes flit to mine—the almond-shaped orbs I fell in love with search mine—and even in her intoxicated state I wonder if she recognizes me— if she really sees me.
“You,” she says quietly.
“What?” I ask, and she shakes her head.
“You seem different tonight,” she trails her hands up my chest.
“So do you,” I counter and she grins at me with a lazy smile. “Good or bad?” I ask her. She arches a perfect brow at me.
“I’m not sure.” She giggles, but leans her head against my chest. I can’t fight the smile that stakes claim on my face. I run my hand through her hair and kiss her head.
“I missed you,” I say, but the music’s too loud for her to hear me. I inhale her scent, and my hand goes to the small of her back, almost instinctively I start to trace my name… but that’d give me away, and tonight I don’t want to explain or argue or fight. I just want her like this. I want to talk to her, and an almost desperate need comes over me. I lean down and whisper in her ear.
“Let’s go outside…. can we go outside?” I quickly correct myself. She nods her head and smiles at me, a hidden dimple appearing at the side of her mouth. I take her hand and we make our way through the club and out the entrance. The air is cool, and I take it in to try to get my thoughts together. Looking at her makes me want to tell her everything, but I can’t. Now’s not the right time. There aren’t many people outside as I expected there to be, and I’m glad it’s just us.
“What are we doing?” Her words are a bit sluggish now after her drinks. Her eyes are bright and she looks like she’s on a cloud. I can’t help but grin at her.
“I just wanted to talk to you,” I tell her and she tilts her head at me.
“Are you okay? Maybe you should have had a drink?” she asks, almost pouting.
“Why would I need that?”
She shrugs. “So you can have some fun?” She rests her hands on her hips. I step toward her and lift her up in my arms.
“You’re the only fun I need.” She bites her lip and squints at me, and I think I might have given myself away, but then she smiles brightly.
“Can you sing to me?”
“Sing, babe?” I ask her and she nods enthusiastically.
“Now?” I ask her, cringing. Chris sings, I’m not a singer.
“I love your voice,” she gushes and I laugh. “Later I promise.” I latch my lips onto hers. She moans while pulling me closer, and I’m ten seconds from dragging her away from this place. She lets out a sensual breath and presses her forehead against mine.
“Do you think my gallery is going to do okay?” I can see the worry in her eyes, so I set her back down on the ground. When is her opening? With Collin blocking me I don’t know what’s been happening, and it makes me that much more eager to get things back to how they should be with all of us.
“Why wouldn’t it?” I ask her and she shrugs, but I can see that she’s nervous and I don’t know why. She’s a phenomenal woman, and the gallery is the one thing I will give Collin credit for. Hopefully it will allow her to see how great she is.
“What if I picked the wrong pieces? What if I’m not cut out for this?”
I take her face in my hands. “You can do anything, don’t ever doubt yourself… I’ve never doubted you,” I tell her sternly and she gives me a weak smile, then studies my eyes and when her breath catches, and I let her face go.
“Chris?” she asks—it isn’t accusatory but she’s asking—like she knows it’s me. I know she does, but she’s hesitant, and that’s all I need.
“Who else would I be?” I ask her playfully and she smiles tightly, and flushes with embarrassment. But there’s nothing to be embarrassed about and I want to tell her because it’s me. It’s not the right time, but it will be soon.
“Tell me a secret.” I look at her, and she’s teetering from being tipsy to drunk. I put my arm around her neck and guide her to start walking.
“What type of secret?”
“So
mething that I don’t know—something that you want to tell me.” Is she playing with me? Is she asking me still? Her eyes search mine, and they’re still heart-stopping, turns-a-guy’s-thoughts-upside-down gorgeous. If she wants a secret, I’ll give it to her.
“I’ve been having dreams.” She looks at me giving me one of her flirtatious grins that make me think of things I’m trying not to focus on.
“Wow… I didn’t expect that Chris,” she teases me.
“Not those type… about that night… with my biological mom,” I say trying to think of how Chris would say it. Her expression goes completely serious.
“Are you okay?" She gently touches my chest as if I’ll break. I grip her tight.
“I am. I just… things are different in the dream than what I remembered from that night.”
“You remembered that night?” she asks solemnly, and then I remember I’m Chris… he probably doesn’t remember anything.
“I mean started to remember—it’s complicated but—there’s someone else there in my dream,” I tell her and she looks bewildered.
“I mean my mom was there, and I think there was another kid and someone else but I don’t know who, but…” I rest my head on hers, my pulse speeding up just thinking about it and she hugs me tightly.
“Have you talked to Helen about it?” she asks, and I feel the calmness between us shifting and I don’t want it to shift. I don’t know why I even said anything.
“I’ll figure it out.” I try to change the subject and add on a smile for good measure. She looks confused, but I give her a quick kiss on the lips, and it’s meant to be quick but it turns into something else. I forgot how much I miss tasting her, how when I kiss her everything seems better.
“I think I’m ready to go home,” she tells me and I can see the desire in her eyes, lust clouding her thoughts. I smirk, and we head back in the club to find Hillary and Aidan, who are at the bar and look to be on their fourth drink. They’re the typical drunk people—too touchy-feely and laughing their heads off. I manage to corral all of them out of the club and into the car without having to kick anyone’s ass.
“We’re going back to my place,” Hillary announces drunkenly in between slobbering all over Aidan. Ugh when the hell did they happen?
“Where do you live?” I ask trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.
“Lincoln Park,” she announces and I look back at her as if she’s lost her mind.
“What?!” I don’t give a damn if they see I’m mad at this point.
“I’m not driving you guys all the way to Lincoln Park—it’s almost 30 minutes from here.”
“It is not. It’s about twenty-five minutes, but in this car, you could be there in fifteen minutes,” she argues back. “And since when did you get so familiar with the city?” she asks, and I put my eyes back on the road. I glance over at Lauren whose eyes are closed with a smile on her face.
“Fine,” I grumble.
“But I’ll need someone to drop off my car tomorrow,” she adds and I grip the steering wheel. That’ll be Chris’s issue not mine. I’m pissed to be missing any time with Lauren that I have right now even if it’s a minute.
“Can’t you just stay at our place?” I ask frustrated.
“I guess so,” she responds disappointed and somewhat irritated.
“Don’t worry, we’ll make the best of it,” Aidan tells her before bringing her attention back to him, and I change my mind.
“No, you know what I’ll take you to her house.” I don’t want to hear or see anything they’ve got going on. The highway is clear and in less than fifteen minutes after prying Hillary’s address from her drunk memory, I drop them off at her door. I watch as they both stumble in and then I peel out of the driveway. I’m finally pulling into our garage less than ten minutes later. I unlock the door and go over to Lauren’s side. I can’t help but look at her as she sleeps. She looks so peaceful and so happy—way different from the last time we were here. Then I was the broken doll she held together, and she was the only thing holding me together. She is probably the only thing holding us together now. The woman owned my thoughts, and with one look could make me make the right or wrong decision. I unbuckle her seat belt and lift her into my arms. Instinctively she wraps her arm around my neck. She’s still as light as the day I met her. I feel it all and wonder what they felt—Chris and that asshole Collin. To me Lauren isn’t just a woman who had my child, or a ticket to what some call sanity. She’s my everything. My love for her is still as raw as the day I admitted to myself that she was the one. At the time, I didn’t even know what that meant—what was the one? Then I met her and I realized the one was the person I’d fight for, the one I’d give myself up for just so she could have peace. I carry her to the elevator and each flight we go up a memory passes through my mind— of her and me—our memories, not theirs. Our first date, when we got engaged, when she said I do to me. I remember her desperate pleas for me to stay with her the day I left, when I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought the right thing was sacrifice but her pleas were torture because I couldn’t say yes. I couldn’t do the thing I wanted to do most in the world, which was to stay with her. The memories of that day still haunt me, but I’d go through it every day if it meant her being happy. Now she seems happy, at peace—but is she really happy?
I want her to be happy, but I never wanted her to be happy like this. I saw her happy with both Chris and Collin, but it wasn’t real happiness—was it? It’s complacency. I open our door and take a moment to look around my house. My home—the one I made and worked so hard for—not theirs. They’re coattail riders. I try to push my anger aside, so I look at her in my arms and that anger dissipates. We make it upstairs, and I lay her in the bed. She curls into a ball and I put a throw over her. I head down the hall and peek into the next room. My daughter’s room.
It’s pink and a night-light is on. It’s a room for a princess—my princess. I sit beside her on the bed and pick her up. She’s asleep, but it doesn’t matter. It’s been so long since I’ve held her in my arms. My blood boils at the thought that they’ve had time with her, that it’s them she knows when they had no part in creating her. She’s my spitting image, the best part of me and her mom combined. I kiss her cheek softly.
If it weren’t for her I would have made the biggest mistake of my life—I would have let Lauren go. I’ll never make that mistake again. No matter how hard I have to fight. If I have to die trying. I lay Caylen back down and put her little pink blanket over her. I grab the teddy bear that fell on the floor and put it underneath her arm, and run my hand across the bracelet I bought her for her first birthday. It seems like it was only yesterday. I head back to our bedroom and close the door behind me when I go in. I lean back against it and let out my world of troubles in a breath. She’s still asleep, but the blanket is off of her and she looks like an angel draped in sin. All I could think of earlier was getting her alone, making her remember that she might have given them a small place in her heart, but that I owned her body. But seeing her now, I don’t want to disturb her. I take off my clothes and lay beside her and pull her body against mine. I know I don’t have much longer. Keeping them both at bay at once is getting easier but still monumentally difficult. It’s worth it to have this time with just us and no them. She stirs next to me and a smile designed by God himself makes me lose my train of thought.
Her eyes are still closed but she brings her lips to mine, her fingers trail over the prickly hairs on my scalp, and she presses her body against me. I drink her in, her lips make way for my tongue, and soon her body is pressed under mine. I feel her melt into me.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispers, and I pull back examining her face, her eyes only half-open and a seductive grin on her face.
“You missed who?" She doesn’t answer but pulls me into a kiss that almost makes me forget the question. I pull away from her again and pin her arms above her head, our bodies pressed against each other.
“
Who do you miss,” I ask her, my voice almost desperate.
“You…” she says but her voice is wobbly and I know she’s tired and sleepy. It’s moments like these when you get the truth, the honesty without any secrets, and that’s what I need to hear from her—what she really feels, who she really wants—even if it kills me.
“Say my name,” I try to keep my voice gentle, but the urgency is there and if she was sober enough she’d hear it. Her hazel eyes flirt with mine and she leans up to kiss my lips but stops right before our lips meet.
“Cal,” and when she says that, the idea of just holding her tonight is ripped to shreds faster than I can rip off her dress. She doesn’t know the power she has over me, that I’d do anything she asks. I can’t get our clothes off fast enough. She wraps her body around me as if she’ll never let me go and I never want her to. Our kisses start manic, almost panicked before they morph into something else entirely—slow and deliberate—she’s kissing me like she misses me and my pace changes completely. I want to savor every moment—but I don’t want to be sweet and timid like Chris or clinical and strategic like Collin. I want her to know it was me she was with, and that I can give her whatever she wants. Her eyes are closed as I slide into her, but the whimper she gives me is a sound I’ll never forget. Inch by inch her sighs get longer, and it’s hard to concentrate as I get lost in her. She’s an ocean that a man can get lost in, make him lose sight of things he thought were important, Collin showed that, she made him lose his fuckin’ mind.
“Cal,” she says again, and I lose myself in her, my hands dig into her skin, and she clenches around me. I pin her hands down, and look into her eyes—they were once so full of innocence and wonder and it’s still there, but clouded by lust and desire—I can’t help but smirk and I know I did that.