Or could she feel me as much as I felt her on every inch of my skin? Had I been in her head at all over the past week? Because she was constantly in mine.
I saw her pick something out of the console and glanced over to see her open my wallet.
“You’re right,” she said, pulling out a picture of my son. “He’s about the same age as mine.” And then she put the snapshot back and set my wallet back down. “Someday . . . they’ll be all grown up, with their own problems, and all of this will be over.” She leaned her head back, musing. “Sometimes I just pray for time to go quicker, ya know? Like I just want to fast-forward to forty, and hopefully the hard part will be done.”
I nodded. “Like this is all just a shit preamble to something better.”
“Yeah.” Her voice was gentle and soft. “We’ll have it together, we won’t be confused anymore, we’ll be excited about tomorrow . . .”
I kept driving, letting her words linger in the air.
She knew. She knew exactly what I was feeling, because we weren’t so different.
I turned into town, heading for her house, and she didn’t seem to notice that it was odd I knew where she lived without her telling me. Sprinkles of rain started hitting the windshield, and I turned on the wipers, slowing my speed.
“Why did you marry him?” I asked her.
I heard her take in a deep breath, but she didn’t seem angry I’d asked.
“I thought he would change,” she answered. “In his rare, genuine moments, he convinced me he loved me. But if I were listening more closely, I would’ve realized that he just wanted to bleed me dry. Cooking, cleaning, my paychecks from the garage, sex . . .” She drifted off and then continued. “He barely even remembers I exist anymore, except when he needs money. He hasn’t touched me since I was five months pregnant. He didn’t like the way my body looked anymore.”
I couldn’t help myself. I looked over at her, gazing at the smoothness and glow of her bare skin where the shirt fell off her shoulder, and the rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed. She had a beautiful figure, and he was a fucking idiot.
“Why did you marry her?” she asked me in return.
I turned my eyes back out to the road as I wound my way through her neighborhood.
Because I didn’t see you first.
“Because I love her.” I told her the truth. “I grew up with her, she comes from a good family, my father thought it would be—”
“Yeah, I get it,” she cut me off.
But I wasn’t sure she did get it. I loved my son’s mother, but my love for Maddie was like everything else that never changed in my life. It was constant and routine. It never challenged me or hurt me.
Or excited me.
I was never hungry or wild for it. I never longed to feel her.
It was just there. Like my house, my job, my car . . .
I pulled up to the front of her house, a small light shining through the living room window, but the rest of the street was dark. Rain poured down heavily now, blanketing my windshield in sheets of water.
We sat there silent for a moment, and I turned to look at her, knowing she wanted to say something.
She stared out the window, making no move to get out. “What do you want with me?” she asked quietly.
I almost laughed. Not because I found the question amusing, but because I found it far too tempting. What did I want? Nothing. Everything.
“When I know, so will you,” I told her.
She smiled to herself and looked over at me, holding my eyes.
“What?” I asked.
But she just shook her head. “It’s weird. For a single moment . . . I didn’t want to fast-forward.”
And my stomach flipped as she held my eyes, everything in them telling me she felt what I was feeling.
I could touch her. I could reach over and take her, and guide her into my lap and touch her if I wanted to.
“You’d better get out of this car,” I warned.
She tried to hide her smile, but I still saw it. And I watched her finally climb out of the car and into the pouring rain.
I didn’t want to fast-forward, either. In fact, I wanted time to slow as much as possible.
She rounded the front of the car, her hair turning black as it got wet, and came to stand at my window. I watched as the rain drenched her clothes, the shirt molding to her breasts and running down the olive-toned skin of her chest. I tightened my fist around the steering wheel again.
And then slowly, she leaned down and placed her lips against my window, closing her eyes and kissing it.
I watched as she backed away, holding my eyes, and then spun around and ran to her house, disappearing into the warm glow.
Now I knew.
I put the car in first gear and drove off, knowing exactly what I wanted from her.
Chapter 4
“Damn.” Dylan glances at me, and I know we’re both thinking the same thing.
“Don’t worry,” I tease. “Someone is going to want you like that, so badly Jared will go crazy. Be careful what you wish for.”
She scoffs and turns the page to the next chapter. Dylan really has no clue.
All she sees is what’s right in front of her. Guys are drawn to her, because of her spirit and smiles. She’s a happy person, and she makes people feel good when they’re around her.
I’m not like that. I’m just kind of there. Like empty space.
And my mind circles back to Dylan’s question. What if Jase was Lucas? Would he see me as anything other than his friends’ kid sister? Would he feel that kind of physical pull to me?