Then…
Then I’d tell her to pull over. We’d climb into the back seat of her SUV, I’d strip her tight yoga pants off those strong legs, press her down against the cool leather, and then sink into her wet, warm heat bare. She’d gasp when she feels herself take every inch of me until I was driving my cock into her on a dark road we can’t name.
And neither of us would think about the consequences of doing it. Neither of us would regret it in the morning.
Fuck.
I shift in my seat and force the image out of my head. I’m delirious. Lack of sleep. Adrenaline. Exhaustion. The soreness that’s dragging at every muscle in my body is messing with my ability to think clearly. It’s impossible to have any of that with Bri and not be conscious of the real consequences. Ones that could be catastrophic to both myself, Bri, and Sawyer.
I probably should’ve grabbed something at the gas station to keep me going, but I need to sleep when we get to the hotel. If I don’t, I’ll be worthless in the morning, and I’m not letting Bri drive us home tomorrow. She’s already done too much tonight.
“You always listen to ’90s rock when you’re driving?” I ask, my voice gruff, cutting through the thick silence.
“Makes me think of happier days.” Her tone is lighter, but there’s an undercurrent of something heavier in her words. “It’s the only thing I’d listen to with my mom when we’d take road trips to the upper peninsula. She was a real big eighties and nineties rock fan.”
“Do you mind if I ask what happened to her?”
Her smile fades, and she looks straight ahead, her hands tightening slightly on the steering wheel. “I don’t mind. She died a little over a year ago,” she says quietly. “Ovarian cancer.”
“Dammit. I’m sorry to hear that.”
She nods, her lips pressing together, but I can see the ache that flickers across her face.
“Thanks. It was… tough.” Her voice wobbles just a bit, but she steadies it. “She was incredible. Such a beacon of light and positivity and my best friend in the whole world.” She pauses. “I miss her every day.”
I know that feeling well. Sawyer was only three when her mom passed away. Too young to really understand what was happening when she got the diagnosis and started slowing down. But she was old enough for the absence to leave a noticeable, gaping hole in her life. I’ve seen it in her eyes; felt it in the way she clings to memories she doesn’t even fully remember when she sees pictures of her mother. I try to keep those memories alive for her as much as I can.
“What about Sawyer’s mom?” Bri asks softly.
I nod, my throat tightening. “Yeah.” I clear it, my voice rough. “When Sawyer was three. Cancer… unexpected.”
“I’m sorry.”
I nod because I am too. It's been almost a decade since we lost her. Long enough that talking about it doesn't wreck me the way it used to. But the sting never fully leaves. It just changes shape and softens so it’s not quite so uncomfortable.
Sawyer's mom and I weren't a great love story. Her pregnancy was unexpected, and we were young, but I stepped up. Made a plan. Built something. I took care of her the best way I knew how, and I meant every bit of it. And then she was gone. And I was alone with a little girl who deserved a mother and got me instead.
I tried to fix that once. Married someone a few years later, too fast, for the wrong reasons. Thought maybe Sawyer needed a woman in the house more than she needed me to be careful. That woman left almost as quickly as she arrived, and the only thing that marriage taught me was that I have terrible judgment when I'm lonely and trying to do right by my daughter at the same time.
So yeah. The ache that’s still there isn’t really for me anymore. It's for Sawyer. For every moment she should've had with hermom and didn't. For the kind of love that she's been missing her whole life without even fully knowing what she lost.
I push the back of my seat a little further, trying to ease the pressure on my lower back and mind filled with all the wrong decisions I’ve made in life. I’m a big guy, and even though her SUV is mid-sized, it’s not built for someone like me. I need a damn truck or a bus to handle my frame.
“What’s the deal with your dad?” I ask, trying to get comfortable as Creed’s raspy voice fills the quiet space. I glance over just in time to catch her lips rolling between her teeth—a dead giveaway that she’s trying to decide how much to tell me about Caleb.
"We've still got two hours," I say, softer than I mean to. "So, you can either tell me the details and we can actually talk, or we sit here in silence while Creed serenades us, and I fall asleep on you."
She chuckles softly, but there’s still hesitation in her expression.
“I’ll tell you,” she says, her voice quieter now. “I’d prefer if you stay awake and talk to me so that I don’t fall asleep. I’m just…” She sighs. Her fingers flex around the steering wheel. “I’m just trying to figure out where to start.”
Chapter 18 – Seth
I stay quiet and wait, watching her pretty profile in the dim glow from the dashboard. It casts soft shadows across her face, and I have to press my fists against my thighs to stop myself from reaching over and taking her hand and saying something likeI could listen to you talk for hours.
I force myself to look out the window, because if I keep staring, I know I’ll start thinking about all the things I like about Bri. And then I’ll end up saying something I know I shouldn’t. Something likewhy can’t I stop thinking about that Halloween night??Do you ever think about it too? When you’re around, you’re all I see. When you’re gone, you’re all I can think about.
I’m a man who’s made a shit ton of bad decisions; would you like to be added to that list... again?
