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“Weagreethen?”Kas asks, looking around at all of us.
As soon as we returned from Coen’s parents’ house, we started making plans for tomorrow. Getting Neil out of here will be a relief. Knowing that someone is watching and potentially knowing that Neil didn’t just disappear is driving me crazy.
It’s not me I’m scared for, far from it. It’s my men. I can’t stomach thinking about what would happen if they get caught. I know I would probably never see them again, and that is wholly unacceptable to me.
“Yeah,” I agree when no one else says something. “I need to go see Lila. Do you want to come with me, Kas?” Since I’m the one being stalked, hopefully, that would mean no one is watching the house if I’m not here. It’s a good plan Alec came up with. Even though I don’t want us to split up, I can’t fault the logic.
“Okay, well, I’m off to bed,” Coen unceremoniously announces, kissing me before he walks away.
Following his lead, Kas does the same. “Goodnight, sweets.”
Alec and I sit alone for a few moments. I’m trying to work up my courage to ask questions about his mom, something I know he won’t want to talk about. However, I need to make sure he’s okay with us getting rid of Neil, his only potential lead to gaining knowledge about the woman he claims not to care about.
As much as I loathe to think about it, Mark’s dead. Nothing we do or say can ever change that fact, but maybe Alec’s mom isn’t dead. I know precisely how naïve that sounds. It’s almost equivalent to wishing for a genie… I want it for Alec though, at least if that’s what he wants.
Before I can muster up enough courage to say anything, Alec stretches and yawns. “I’m going to take a shower before turning in.”
“Do you want company?” I blurt out. Not waiting for him to answer, I hold my hand out to him and pull him upstairs with me.
“So Neil really hasn't told you anything about your mom?” I ask Alec as soon as my bedroom door is closed.
His Adam’s apple bobs, and his eyes stray from mine when I pull my dress over my head. “No, Baby.” Alec’s nostrils flare, and his tone is scathing.
Where the hell is this hostility coming from?
Lifting my chin, I kick off my pantyhose. “And are you absolutely certain you don’t want to ask him again?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Why did you bring me up here? Is there something you need? Otherwise, I need my shower.” Even though Alec isn’t shouting, the indifferent tone renders me speechless.
I don’t even get to form a reply before Alec leaves, which takes me by surprise. “Al—” That’s all I manage to say before the door slams behind him, and I hear him stomping to his room.
Undressing, minus my thong, I walk into the shower. While the hot water cocoons me, I think about Alec. I know there’s no best-girlfriend-of-the-year awards in my future, but have I really been behaving so badly that he can’t talk with me?
I close my eyes as I try to think back on everything that’s happened since Mark died, even before that. I know I cut Alec deeply when I broke up with him and went back to Serendipity, which we haven’t really talked about. Not since New Year’s Eve. That one night didn’t even scratch the surface, which means the last deep talk Alec and I had was at his treehouse.
Shit, has it really been that long?
Kas and I have an easier time opening up to each other. A few ill-timed jokes and we’re both ready to spill our innermost secrets. Okay, it’s not about the jokes, those just help make it less suffocating when we talk about our way too heavy baggage.
With Coen, it’s entirely different. He fights me every step of the way. Always pushing my buttons until I feel I’m going to break, and then he puts me back together with his amazing ability to know exactly what I need.
Even though I know I shouldn’t compare the guys, I can’t not do it. I need them all for different reasons, just as I’m something different to each of them. I love them equally. There are no favorites or front-runners, this I know for certain. So why does it feel like I keep letting Alec down? Things are amazing when we spend time together, at least, I think they are, and I don’t think Alec would fake it. No, the answer has to be something else I’m overlooking… And then it hits me with as much force as a thunderclap on a calm summer day; it’s because he internalizes as much as I do.
Neither of us is great at opening up and sharing, that’s nothing new. But where Alec always makes sure I’m okay, I can’t claim the same the other way around. In some ways—though I hate to admit it—I forget about him, and that’s not okay by any means.
I tilt my head up so the water cascades down my face and mixes with my tears. As I remember the way Alec looked at me before storming out, my heart feels like it’s being stabbed with a white-hot poker. Although he had every right to leave my room, it doesn’t make it any easier. Fuck, I need to get my shit together before he leaves more than the room we’re both in.
Standing under the warm spray, I let my hands trail down my stomach, forcing myself not to stop until I’m cupping my pussy. Even though my breath speeds up and comes out in small gasps, I force my fingers beneath the soaked material of my underwear.
The two fingers touching my labia shake almost uncontrollably, and I have to swallow down a broken cry. Touching myself there feels wrong, as if my very touch is tainted. To ease matters, I try to think back on sexy times with my guys, not for pleasure, only for comfort. It works a little. As times with Coen, Kas, and Alec play in my mind’s eye, I’m able to relax enough to get my breathing under control.
I take a deep breath before I look down at myself. Obviously, the angle obscures almost everything, but it’s still further than I’ve been able to push myself before. Tempting fate, I circle my clit, and I feel like whooping when I feel a spark of lust zing through my body. I’m so high on the feeling that it possesses me to push my boundaries even more.
After removing my underwear, I push the shower curtain aside, reaching for my phone on the sink. Before I can talk myself out of it, I place it between my thighs and take a picture. Although my breathing becomes ragged, I don’t allow myself to look away as I lift the phone so I can see the picture.
Truthfully, I don’t think I’ve ever seen myself down there. It’s never been out of shyness or revulsion. I guess I’ve just never had the need or been that curious. I’ve always had a healthy sex drive and gotten myself off more times than I can count, so it’s not like I had an aversion to my pussy. But now… Now, I’m forcing myself to study the picture until I’ve memorized every crevice—and the longer I look, the easier it becomes.
For the first time in what feels like forever, I feel proud of myself. Who knew watching your pussy would make you feel like you’re walking on cloud nine?
