“What can I say?” He shrugs. “I like things that are colorful.”
“Me too.”
“I know.”
I look over at him sharply, and a coy grin spreads across his face.
“You always talked about rainbows all of the time. You never stopped looking for them. Anytime it rained, you’d manage to find one.”
“They’re my favorite,” I whisper. We used to talk about getting rainbow tattoos one day, and all through college, I had rainbow-colored hair. I stopped dying it a long time ago. Now my hair is plain and red and simple, but somehow, it means a lot to me that he didn’t forget.
We may have had a horrible breakup, but apparently, I inspired his guest room décor. That has to count for something, right? Maybe it counts for something.
“I missed you,” he says, looking over at me. He’s still naked. He’s still wonderfully naked and he doesn’t seem to care or mind at all.
“I missed you, too,” I whisper.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen between us, Felicity, but I never stopped missing you,” he says. Then he shrugs and shakes his head. He moves toward the door again and he stops in the entrance. “The bathroom is next door and I’m down the hall. If you need anything, my door will be unlocked. You can just come in, okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“I mean it. If you feel scared or something happens where you need assistance…just come get me.”
“I will.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise,” I whisper.
Satisfied, he turns to leave. I leave the door open, but I flip off the light. I drop my little blanket to the floor and crawl naked under the covers on the big bed. Somehow, it’s enough. It has to be enough. I close my eyes, and I wish that our story was different. I can’t believe I was tricked into giving up my mate.
In the darkness of the night, I start to cry, but I bury my face in a pillow and hope he doesn’t hear.
Chapter 6
Brendan
The next morning, Felicity comes downstairs and sits down at the counter. Without batting an eye, I take in her disheveled appearance. She’s wrapped in a blanket, and her hair is messy. Her eyes are swollen and she has dark circles under them. Felicity is no less beautiful like this, but she looks like she didn’t sleep at all. Perhaps I’m to blame for that, but I think the stress of her failed date coupled with the revelation about my mother probably got to her just a little bit.
“Good morning,” I greet her, turning around from my cooking. I’m scrambling eggs, frying bacon, and making toast. I
step aside from the stove to pour her a cup of coffee, taking care to fix it the way she likes it.
“Thanks,” she says. She takes a sip and looks up at me. “You remembered.” She seems a little bit surprised about this.
“Almond milk and a dash of sugar,” I roll my eyes. “Nobody else in the world likes that, Foxy. It’s not a hard order to remember.”
“Hey,” she protests. “That’s not really fair.”
“I think it’s more than fair.” I look at her carefully. She looks soft and sweet and a little bit wild. She looks like she’s been well-fucked even though she hasn’t. Part of me regrets not taking her up on her offer last night, but the rest of me knows just how wrong it would have been. My goal is to take care of Foxy: not take advantage of her.
“Well, thank you,” she says, sipping the coffee. I let her sit there and drink it silently as I finish preparing our breakfast. It doesn’t take long to finish the eggs and bacon. I plate the food, add the toast with a smidge of butter on each slice, and set the food on the counter. She looks at it eagerly, hungrily, like she hasn’t eaten in weeks. Maybe longer.
Who has been taking care of her all this time?
I know that she’s close with her mom and her little brother, Max. He was just a baby when we broke up. Now he’s a big kid with big kid needs and I know that out of all of the potential big sisters in the world, Felicity is probably the best he’s ever going to have.
“We need to talk,” I tell her with a sigh. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to have this conversation. What I want is to forget the last five years ever happened. What I want is to head back to five years ago when we were making love in our favorite cave, and I want to pretend like it didn’t end utterly horribly.