As we move away from an image responsible for both the highest and lowest day of my life, the firmer Alex’s grip on my shoulder becomes. His manly clutch intermingles our scents as well as our roll in the grassy field did. It is an addictive smell—potent enough to bring my thoughts back into positive territory.
I thought the crazy chemistry brewing between Alex and me like a potion in a witch’s cauldron would have disappeared the instant we fucked. I was so wrong. It’s made it more crazy—slightly unhinged.
I guess I shouldn’t be shocked. I came twice—twice!That has never happened before. And excluding Alex’s scrumptious V muscle I’ve sketched into my memory for eternity, it was done without additional stimulation.
That’s unheard of.
I’m not joking. I don’t have a lot of female friends, but the ones I do have wouldn’t hesitate to call it as they see it. No mention of back to back climaxes has ever been discussed at any time during our girly get-togethers. Vibrators. Clit stimulators. Strap-ons to take their husbands for a ride were discussed without a single qualm. A stranger giving you the best fuck you’ve ever had in the most unlikely location on the most unlikely date—nope. Not once.
If I had the means, I would have recorded our romp, as I’m reasonably sure that is the only way my girlfriends will believe me. It was so out-of-this-world fantastic, even I’m having a hard time separating fact from fantasy.
“We did just fuck, right?”
Alex lowers his eyes to mine. Confusion is slashed all over his face. “I guess that’s what two people having unexpected sex is called.”
“Are you regretting it?” I ask, surprised by the unease in his tone.
“No,” he answers without delay.
“Then what’s the deal with the dipping tone and sweaty brow?” I run my finger along his brow to emphasize my question. “I’m shocked you have any liquid left after your effort.”
My underhanded compliment wipes some of the hesitation from his eyes, but it doesn’t wholly erase it. After licking his parched mouth, Alex vows, “I’ll never have any hesitation about you, Rae.Ever.”He waits for me to nod before adding on, “I’m just trying to figure out how we’re going to explain that. . .” He drops his eyes to the wet patch in my crotch. “And this,” I follow his gaze to the big muddy rings circling his knees, “to him.”
His last head nudge launches my stomach into my throat. My dad’s truck is making its way down the track Alex and I traveled nearly an hour ago. The look in his eyes is murderous, and they’re locked on Alex.
“Accidents happen, right?” When Alex halfheartedly nods, I say, “Then that’s what we’ll go with.”
I break away from his side, stealing his chance to reply. I’m not saying our romp was a mistake; I’m merely giving him an out. If he accepts it, I’ll cherish the memories and pray they’re strong enough to bring my self-pleasing mojo back. If he ignores my suggestion, I’m open to extending an olive branch I don’t usually offer. I’ll look at a second, possibly even a third round of action.
I scan the horizon when Alex nips at my heels. For how quickly he closed the distance between us, my need for an olive branch may be required earlier than predicted.
* * *
Have you ever tried to fool a man who knows you better than yourself?
I bet it didn’t end well.
Although Alex and I didn’t get busted doing the deed, in my dad’s eyes, we may as well have. Our cattle farm borders a parcel of land stolen from my family decades before I was born. My dad has been in negotiations with the local parish for years to have the title put back in our family’s name. Today his surveyor had an important meeting with the opposing land owners. Even though Alex and I were a good distance from the fences bordering our property, allegedly my pasty skin illuminates in the sunlight—as does Alex’s glowingly white backside.
My father was glad I wasn’t injured in our crash. He didn’t hold the same esteem for Alex. I’ll be eternally grateful my mom came along for the ride when my father caught wind of our adventurous morning, or Luca’s memorial wouldn’t be the only one held on this day every year.
It was interesting watching Alex go toe-to-toe with my father. I knew a man as assertive as Alex wouldn’t back down without a fight, but I never anticipated his protectiveness either. He didn’t just go to bat for himself; he defended me as well. Nothing he said to my father was different than things I’ve expressed numerous times the past thirteen plus years, but hearing them conveyed by a man who took me to the brink of insanity was a mind-blowing experience. He wasn’t just respecting my integrity; he was honoring our relationship—a relationship I didn’t know existed until he expressed it.
I’m honestly a little lost on how to handle Alex’s confession. My first response was joy—which is utterly ridiculous since I haven’t dated since high school, and even then, I was never interested in a second date. Then I grew worried Alex is keeping something from me. Although I’m fairly certain his dishonesty is more a requirement of his position than his inability to tell the truth, I have enough secrets weighing me down. I can’t handle more baggage.
After gliding my hands down the fan of my black skirt, I turn to face the mirror. I look the same as I did when I attended Luca’s funeral eight years ago, just older and wiser now.
Luca and I shouldn’t have argued. We were adults who should have discussed our concerns in a respectful manner, but as Alex said, accidents do happen. I didn’t set out to hurt Luca the night he was killed. If I knew the consequences of my actions, I would have never gone into our argument so headstrong, but I was young and heartbroken. He was my light—the man I looked up to as much as my father, so seeing him as I did didn’t just break my heart, it shattered my faith in him.
I didn’t care that Luca was gay. I loved him no matter what. But his inability to see the worth in both himself and me fills me with anger. He wanted it all, and when he thought he couldn’t have it, he found the closest exit and opted for it. I’m not angry he killed himself. I’m devastated he didn’t think he could overcome his depression, and that he couldn’t see the impact his life had on many.
Even now, years after his death, church bells ring in the distance in memory of him. You can’t love somebody that much and not accept them for who they are.
Luca should have come clean—just as I am going to.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Awkward. It is only one word but extremely impacting. It is also the perfect word to describe the twenty-mile trip to Regan’s hometown. Regan’s mother is glaring at her father, who is glaring at me, and Regan is utterly oblivious to the tension surrounding us. She hasn’t spoken a word since she climbed into the back of her dad’s truck. She didn’t even flinch when her father growled upon spotting my hand curled over hers in comfort. She is once again locked down, trapped by her memories, and I fucking hate it.
