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So, no, Aiden doesn’t feel like a stranger. I said as much to him earlier, in a lot of ways he feels more real to me than my family does.
I could be myself with him. I laughed and was vulnerable. We were honest with one another. And with him, I was a braver, stronger version of myself.
A version I wish I were more often.
And I like that a strong man like him made me feel safe enough to shed the skin I usually wear.
I haven’t even stepped in the shower--I’ve only been inside the cabin for about twelve seconds––when my mom is already knocking on the door.
“Alice, let me in. I have a few things I need to say to you. You didn’t answer your phone all day and we were worried sick.”
I pull open the door. “Mom, I get it. We fought. I left. But I’m back now. Okay? And right now, I’m tired. I had a long day and really don’t need your flak right now.”
Mom scoffs. “You don’t have time for my flak? Who do you think you are?”
I rest a hand on the doorframe, suddenly completely spent. “I think I’m a woman who is finally figuring out what it means to stick up for herself. So, excuse me, but I’m done with this conversation. I’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast.”
With that, I shut the door not waiting for her response.
Then I take that shower I was dreaming about. I run soap over my body, washing my skin, and luxuriate in the thought of my lips touching Aiden’s.
My mind’s a roller coaster of emotion... already second guessing my choice to walk away even though I know I had to.
When I crawl into bed all I can think about is the way his body felt against mine. The way his cock felt inside my pussy. The way his tongue rolled over –
Oh, boy. I need to stop this line of thinking because it’s only going to get me horny.
And this cruise ship is leaving the port. Within the hour Aiden and his fishing boat will be far, far away.
Despite my attempt to resist, my hand travels past my belly button and moves between my thighs.
I may not have Aiden with me, but I certainly have my memories of him.A week later my family is back home. We’re sitting on the back deck and enjoying a BBQ dinner, my sister in full-on wedding mode. The big day is only two weeks away and now that the family vacation is behind us, it’s time to focus on centerpieces, dresses, and the list just goes on and on.
But I can’t seem to focus on her pending nuptials.
I’ve been thinking about Aiden constantly. I know he said he was leaving on a ten-day fishing expedition, and wouldn’t have any cell service while he was gone, but he’ll be home tomorrow.
And I plan on calling him.
He’s really all I’ve been thinking about this week. That, and of course I’ve been practicing my cello religiously, and for the first time in ages, my music feels inspired. Ever since my night with Aiden, my music has held a new kind of excitement.
When I play, I find myself filled with sensual emotions and it’s forcing me to put a new spin on my piece. It’s like giving myself to Aiden has opened me up.
My parents have noticed. Dad constantly tells me how amazed he is with my sudden turn-around. He mentions that on the cruise he wondered if I was a quitter for the first time in his life.
Everyone is sure my audition next week is going to be a roaring success--but of course, I’m not that confident. I’ve failed to secure a spot in this symphony twice already.
To say I believe in my ability to nail it on the third try, would be more than a stretch.
But since meeting Aiden, I’m not as anxious over the whole thing. I’ve been picking up my cello every day, not because it’s on my schedule--but because when I play, my heart expands. I’m able to get lost in the music and the memory of my time with Aiden.
So, as we sit at the BBQ, I eat my grilled chicken in silence not wanting to bring attention to myself. Of course, that is when all eyes seem to land on me.
“Are you and Dad ready to play at the ceremony?” Anna asks.
Dad smiles tightly. The truth is I haven’t given much attention to the request my sister made that Dad and I play a duet at the wedding. Dad picked out the piece a few months ago, and we’ve run through it a few times, but there’s been so much tension brewing between us that we have avoided talking about our performance.
“It will be perfect, Anna,” Dad says, patting his eldest daughter’s hand with a sure smile. “Alice and I will not disappoint you.”
