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When the crowd thinned, I could see clearly who my real friends were, and they’r
e pretty amazing. So, yes, I don’t have Stone. But I have my brothers, and Dina and Confidence and Kal. And Hayes, kind of.
He’s made attempts to talk about what happened. I went to visit after Phoenix, their beautiful baby boy, was born. He didn’t miss the chance to remind me of what Stone stood to lose if his identity was revealed. I know Hayes means well and that he’s just trying to protect his brother, but I wish he’d see that I am, too. Even when it’s killing me too. And I know I can’t avoid him forever. I’ll have to see him at some point.
My heart and thighs clench, simultaneously, as joy and desire swirl inside me, and for a moment, I’m lightheaded with giddiness.
I have to shake myself free of it. This is how I got into this mess in the first place.
As a reminder of that, I read Tyson’s text again and memorize that picture and all the places he’s touching that girl.
“Here we are,” Charlie drawls, as we pull to a stop in front of my house. I glance up and see the dark row of windows that line the second floor. My mother has them tonight. The week that Marcel kept them from me was the longest of my life. But I wasn’t the only one he kept them from. When she asked for them to spend the night, I said yes. Now, I wish they were here. I need their warm little snuggles and unrestrained affection.
“I’m sorry to be a pain. But at least you’re spared an evening of being seen with the notorious Regan Wilde.” I reach across the center console and press a quick kiss to Charlie’s scruffy cheek, at the same time that I pull the lever to open the door.
He puts a hand on my arm to stop me. “Fuck anyone treating you like shit. Marcel is well-liked, but so are you. And you’re family. I’m here for you. I wish I could do more than lend a friendly ear.”
I only nod, because I can’t speak around the throb in my throat. I press a grateful kiss to his cheek and slide out of the car.
I stand on the sidewalk in front of my house and wave goodbye, until he turns right onto Wildewood Parkway and disappears from sight. I trudge up my driveway, tired and feeling sorry for myself.
“Venus.”
For a second, I think my mind is playing tricks on me.
I stop in my tracks halfway up to my garage.
My heart kicks into high gear, and the next breath, I attempt to take, doesn’t come as easily as the one before it. By the time I’ve managed to turn around and face him, I’m nearly panting from the onslaught of emotions running riot through me.
He steps into the flood of light from the security lamp that hangs right above my garage.
He looks… like the answer to every single one of my problems. His hair is shorter than I’ve ever seen it. In his gray suit, white dress shirt, and a dark blue tie is draped over his neck, he looks more like Mr. Grey than Dr. McDreamy. “Stone, what are you doing here?”
“You’ve been ignoring my calls. So, here I am.” His voice is ragged with frustration.
He stops short of being an arm’s length away. I want him closer. I cross my arms to stop myself from reaching for him. “I’ve had a lot going on with my kids.”
He crosses his arms, too, but from his furrowed brow and deep frown, he’s restraining something very different than desire. “Regan, cut the shit. Let’s just get this over with,” he snaps.
I flinch at the bite of steel in his voice and bristle at the accusation in his eyes. “You knew what this would be, Stone. I was very clear in my letter.”
“I was very clear in the one I wrote you back. Or did you get it mixed up with your… how did Ty put it?” He snaps his fingers in rapid succession and then dons a eureka expression. “Random stranger,” he spits the word like a curse.
My face flames, but I dig my heels in. “What did you want me to do? Announce it? It’s not as if anything can come of… us.”
His eyes narrow, and his expression grows even harder. “The only way that’s true is if everything that happened in Mexico was a lie.”
I suck in a breath and look down at the ground. He’s, unwittingly, given me the key to lock the door behind me when I walk away from him. If that’s the only way, then that’s what it will be.
“Well, then, maybe it was. I mean maybe it was nostalgia and pent up lust and a little too much sun.”
“Really?” His voice is low and dark and the hair on the back of my neck stands up. I can’t look at him and tell such a lie. I keep my eyes cast downward and nod.
I brace myself, waiting for him to say something. I should turn on my heel and run instead. His arm moves, fast as a whip, and wraps around my waist, as he drags me until our bodies are flush. He's rigid with anger, and yet, it’s the most comforting thing I’ve felt in months. I drop my head onto his chest.
He grips my chin and forces my face up. I close my eyes. “Fucking look at me, Regan.” His voice is a rasp of frustration.
I open my eyes, and my heart throbs with regret. I hate the shadows under his eyes, almost as much as I hate the naked pain in them.
