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CHAPTER ELEVEN
Dear Candy Cade,
How am I supposed to do this?
I’m parked outside the liquor store. Only this island would have one that looks like a five-star restaurant.
I want to go in and drink myself into oblivion, but I grabbed my journal from my backpack instead.
Because I feel like I’m sailing into a storm with you.
I can see its danger on the horizon, and part of me wants the wrecking.
So bad.
I watched you with your friend at the pool today, and I had to bend my knees up on the chair to hide my hard-on.
My nephew wanted to play, but I had to refuse because my fucking dick wouldn’t stand down at seeing you in a bikini.
So many times, I pulled your bikini bottoms aside and slid inside you. Fuck, you were so tight and wet for me, and I wanted that so bad today.
I saw what you did—how you spread your legs for me again. You arched your back like you wanted me to pull your top up and take your gorgeous tits in my mouth.
Shit. I’m getting hard just thinking about you again.
I always do.
What I found inside you, Cade, years ago. It’s better than what I found inside any bottle. And trust me, from an alcoholic, that’s the highest compliment.
I was going to come over and talk with you today. I felt happy just planning it, shooting the shit like we always used to.
Do you remember that? How we’d stay up until dawn on the beach over the weekends. I told you everything back then. And I was your only secret.
You were my best friend, Cade. Like my job was to make you happy, and yours was to take care of us. We could’ve lived to infinity like that together.
But TJ appeared—then and today—and I fucking saw red. Truly, I almost lost my mind.
The only thing that kept me sane was my nephew worshipping every move I make. He means so much to me, so I fought it.
I felt sick, Cade.
What TJ and Gentry Evans did to us, how can you smile back at him? The sight of you letting him look at you like that?
The Candy Cade I love would have gouged his eyes out. I know you can. Mama G told me about all the training you’ve done, all the belts you have now. Like you’re preparing for war or something.
Fine by me. Kill him. Not me.
And I know you know that it kills me—you with TJ.
God, are you that hurt by me?
You must be with everything you said about every drunken fuck up I’ve made along the way.
It’s not all true what I said.
I do remember some of it.
The woman I fucked in the club parking lot? She was wearing your perfume. Our perfume. BOUND. I was drunk, but I remember smelling her and closing my eyes and only fucking you.
