Her comment is hard to hear, but it doesn’t stop me from asking, “Were things really that bad between you two before he passed?”
She peers at me with hurt eyes, upset I’m questioning her integrity. It isn’t that I don’t believe her; I’m just having a hard time picturing Dane in the manner she’s depicted him the past few months. Clearly, his cause of death is proof he was depressed, but for the most part, his life was like mine.
I guess that proves why I shouldn’t be questioning her. Men like us don’t display our pain for the world to see. We hide it away, often fooling everyone around us that we’re fine. Even those closest to me are unaware I’ve been living without my heart the past four months.
I’m drawn from dangerous thoughts when a zesty scent lingers in my nostrils. Kristin has raised her hand to my face to run her fingers through the wiry hair on my chin. This isn’t the first time she’s done this the past four months, but it is the first time the air has held this much sentiment.
“I can still remember the shock of seeing you for the first time with a beard. In all honesty, Ihatedit.” She breathes out heavily before her tongue delves out to replenish her lips with moisture. “It’s grown on me now. It really suits you.”
When she scoots a little closer, my eyes drift to the entrance of the living room. I don’t know who I’m looking for. The girls went to bed hours ago, and Dane is in a place where he can’t reprimand me for getting cozy with his girl.Unfortunately.
Kristin’s recently brushed teeth fan my lips with mint when she murmurs, “It could have been me and you, you know? You did ask me out first.”
Her voice is huskier than I’ve heard before. Deeper—needy.
I remove her hands from my face and place them into her lap. “Then Dane blew in and swept you off your feet.”
My attempt to stop skating on thin ice is short-lived when Kristin replies, “Yeah, he did.” She licks her lips for the second time before asking, “Have you ever wondered what would have happened if he didn’t?”
I shrug, truly unsure. I liked Kristin, but that was because she was hot and available. I never saw it becoming a long-term thing like she had with Dane.
Could have had, I correct myself. Ten years is nowhere near a lifetime.
“I think it could have been something.” She swallows numerous times in a row before murmuring, “Couldbe something.”
For a second, I want to forget that the wavy blonde hair tickling my shoulder belongs to my best friend’s girl, that the lust blazing in her eyes doesn’t match the flame I saw in them when Dane recited his vows, or that my mind hasn’t been clouded with confusion since my run-in with Hayden four weeks ago, but as much as I wish we weren’t two people weighed down with grief, I can’t. This is the fucked-up world I live in.
“Kristin. . .” My murmur is more in warning than hope from her hands returning to my face. This is the closest I’ve been to a woman in months, but it still feels wrong.
The tension in my jaw slackens when Kristin murmurs, “You’ve got cotton candy stuck in your beard.”
I smile, recalling fond memories for once instead of bad. Addison has been nagging me to take her to Disney World for weeks. Although I will take her one day, with my desk salary going toward keeping a roof over her head, I don’t see that being any time in the near future. Instead, we went to a local fair. The kids had a blast. Even Isla giggled a handful of times. That alone was worth the dent to my bank balance.
“Tonight was the first time Addison has had cotton candy. She got a little excited.”
Grinning at the glee in Kristin’s voice, I scrub my hand across my bushy jaw. Even with it being more sweaty than sticky, a sugary scent filters in the air from my hearty scrub. I smile even larger. When Addison offered to share her cotton candy, I never thought I’d wear more of it than I ate.
Once I’ve scrubbed every inch of my beard, I give Kristin a look as if to askis it gone?
She shakes her head, her smile switching from joy to yearning. “May I?”
I should say no. I should shut this down right now. Instead, I nod.
I’m a fucking moron.
The rise and fall of Kristin’s chest doubles as she fills the last bit of air between us. It’s not a long expedition considering she’s practically sitting in my lap.
“Stop grimacing,” she demands a short time later, mistaking my slumped lips as a result of her yanks to my beard. “This can’t be the first time you’ve had sticky stuff in your beard—surely!”
My ego speaks before my head can cite an objection, “It’s not the first time it’s been coated in a sugary substance, and it’s unlikely to be the last.”
Kristin freezes at the same time I stiffen. I’m frozen solid from memories holding my emotions captive. Kristin is stiff because she’s hoping the friskiness in my tone will help her escape her nightmare for just a minute. For an hour, she wants to forget. I understand her plea. The woman I crave more than anything is 1500 miles away; that’s nothing on how far Kristin would have to travel to see her other half again. She’s grieving, but she’s also a woman—a woman with needs.
With flaring eyes and puckered lips, Kristin’s mouth arrows toward mine. Time slows to a snail’s pace as my mind races. There are more reasons this is a good idea than it is a horrible one. We live under the same roof; I take care of her girls as if they are mine, meaning we’re practically a family, but two points—two lousy motherfucking objections—as to why this will never work make me pull back with barely a second to spare.
I love Regan, and Kristin loves Dane. I can’t put it any simpler than that.
“I’m so sorry,” Kristin murmurs while slumping back onto her side of the couch. “I just want to forget, you know?” She locks her eyes with mine; they’re brimming with tears. “He left me, Alex. He chose to leave. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?”
