From This Moment

by Melanie Harlow

She sniffled. “That sounds like him.”

  “And he told me I better not fuck it up.”

  Her laugh was half snort, half sob. “That sounds like him, too.”

  “He also told me to get the hell out of Mom and Dad’s house.”

  “Also totally him.”

  I kissed the top of her head and held her tight. “And he said life is short.”

  “It is.”

  “So I didn’t want to wait any longer. I felt like I’d been waiting to be with you forever, but Hannah—we can slow down, if you want. We don’t have to go out in public together. I don’t have to be here every night. I know, for you, it’s only been a few weeks.”

  She twined her arms around my waist. “But I want you here every night. Everything is better when you’re here.”

  “Then I’ll be here.”

  “I don’t want to be alone anymore, Wes.”

  I took her head in my hands. “You will never be alone again.”

  “When you say things like that, I get scared.”

  “Don’t. There’s nothing to be scared of, Hannah. I love you. We’re gonna be okay.”

  She rose up on her toes and kissed me. “Stay with me tonight.”

  “Okay,” I said, brushing the hair back from her face. “I’ll stay.”

  Sixteen

  HANNAH

  I won’t be alone tonight.

  The thought filled me with excitement, and I felt joy tingling in my toes. Rising up on them, I pressed my lips to Wes’s, threw my arms around his neck, and jumped up so my legs circled his waist.

  How he managed to get us up to my bedroom like that, I have no idea, but two minutes later we were kneeling on my bed, trying to shed our clothing and kiss each other at the same time.

  “Wait,” I said breathlessly when we were nearly naked and frantic with need. “Wait a second.”

  “What is it?”

  I looked down at my hands and pulled off my ring, leaning over to set it on my nightstand.

  “You don’t have to, not for me,” he said.

  “It’s for me,” I told him, reaching for him again. “I want to be yours completely.”

  “You are.” He turned me beneath him and pulled my underwear off before stretching out over me. “You are mine completely.”

  I looked up at his face in the dark, my heart bursting with everything I felt for him. “I love you,” I said.

  His eyes closed for a moment. “Is this real?”

  “Yes,” I whispered, wrapping my legs around him. Finally we were skin to skin and I couldn’t get enough of the way he felt, of his weight on me, of his hands on me, of his masculine smell and his low murmured sounds and his tongue stroking into my mouth. Every kiss, every touch, every breath seemed to erase one more memory of a lonely night spent in this bed.

  I won’t be alone tonight.

  I ran my hands all over his body, anything I could reach, neck and arms and shoulders and chest and back and ass. I slid my fingers into his hair as he worked his mouth down my body, tasting every inch of my skin, licking and sucking and tantalizing me with long, slow strokes and lush, swirling circles, and quick, hard flicks of his tongue that made me come so hard I saw stars on my bedroom ceiling. I shimmied down beneath him until his knees bracketed my chest, taking his cock in my hand and lifting my head to rub my lips over the tip.

  He groaned, bracing his hands on the headboard. “Go slow,” he said. “I beg you.”

  I went slow at first, stroking the crown with my tongue, working my hand up and down, sucking just an inch or two into my mouth. But before long, I had my hands on the back of his thighs, pulling him into me as he fucked my mouth, feeling his cock hit the back of my throat, listening as he cursed and growled and moaned.

  Finally, he pulled out and opened my nightstand drawer, where we’d stashed some condoms earlier in the week. A minute later, he was sliding into me, and the feeling was so sublime, I could have wept.

  I won’t be alone tonight.

  “Wes,” I whispered as he began to move, working his hips in a slow, steady rhythm that had him plunging inside me with long, deep strokes. “It feels so good. You feel so good.”

  So good that I wondered how I’d ever doubted this was right. So good that I never wanted it to end. So good that I could see a life together stretching out ahead of us—I was walking down the aisle toward him, I was nursing our child, I was putting a pie in the oven, I was sitting across the dinner table from him and we were surrounded by family, surrounded by happiness, surrounded by love.

  “Yes,” I murmured, holding him tighter, lifting my hips to meet his quickening thrusts. “Oh God, don’t stop.” My mind and body were spiraling out of control together. The closer I got to the summit, the more of the future I could see.

  Forever was right there in front of me, unspooling like a ribbon.

  Every wish would be granted. Every wrong would be righted. Every dream that had died would be fulfilled. As long as I had him, I could have everything.

  I couldn’t lose him.

  But you will. Because you need him now. Because you let him in. Because you gave away your heart when you should have guarded it. Because you refused to see the truth even when it has been right in front of your face the whole time—love isn’t enough to protect you.

  And forever is only a lie.

  “Don’t leave me,” I begged, my body on the verge of climax, my mind on the brink of hysteria.

  “Never,” he said between rasping breaths. “I’ll never leave you.” We reached the apex and hurtled over the edge together, clutching and cursing and straining to get closer as our bodies released the tension in perfect harmony.

  “I love you,” he said as we caught our breath.

  “I love you, too.”

  I was staring at the ceiling in the dark, wondering where all the stars had gone.

  A little later, Wes curled himself around me just like Drew used to do. Knees tucked under mine. An arm around my waist. His chest pressed against my back. It was exactly what I’d wanted. It felt warm and cozy and familiar. I’d missed it desperately.

  It terrified me.

  I wouldn’t be alone tonight, but tomorrow night was a different story. After that, it could be weeks. I’d lie here missing him and wishing we could be together, having no idea when that might actually happen, if it happened at all. I’d be sad. Worried. Lonely.

  Because I’d let myself need him. After everything I’d been through, after everything life had thrown at me, after all I’d done to recover my strength. After all the time I’d spent and tears I’d cried putting the pieces of my broken heart back together again, I’d set it on the edge of the highest shelf.

  Was I insane?

  I chewed on the tip of my thumb, eyes wide open. Behind me, Wes’s breathing was deep and even, as if he were already asleep.

  I’ll never leave you, he’d said, and I wanted to believe him. With every bone in my body, I wanted to. But Drew had said the same thing. Drew had made promises he meant but couldn’t keep. Drew had believed he was invincible, and maybe he’d been punished for it.

  Maybe I’d be punished for falling in love with his brother.

  I slammed my eyes shut.

  Stop it, Hannah. Just stop, before you have a panic attack. You’re being paranoid and crazy and ridiculous. Nothing bad is going to happen.

  But it took me a long time to fall asleep.

  The next morning, I woke up to the sound of rain on the roof even before my alarm went off. Immediately I glanced to my right. Wes had rolled onto his back during the night, and he was sleeping with one arm thrown over his head, the covers down around his waist. I felt a tug of arousal deep inside me as I took in his handsome face and bare chest, the hand resting on the pillow, the scruffy jaw. There was plenty of time. I didn’t have to be at work for two more hours. I could snuggle up to him, slip my hand between his legs, press my lips to his chest while I stroked him beneath the covers. I liked thinking about the surprised smile that
would curve his lips, the way he’d look at me when he’d open those gorgeous green eyes. Well, good morning, I bet he’d say, his low voice a little gravelly. I wanted that. I wanted all of that.

  But instead of touching him, I carefully got out of bed without waking him, made sure my alarm wouldn’t go off, and snuck into the shower.

  I probably didn’t have that much time, anyway, I thought as I rinsed out my shampoo. I’d probably have been late for work. And what was the sense in enjoying a rainy morning in bed together when I didn’t know when we’d ever get another one? An addict knows she can’t just take one hit. Why torture myself with the memory?

  But I was torturing myself with the fantasy when I heard a knock on the bathroom door.

  “Come in,” I said.

  A moment later, Wes peeked around the curtain. “Hi.”

  I had to smile at his hair. “Hi.”

  “Is this a private party?”

  “Not at all.”

  He stepped into the tub, and I looked his perfect body over, head to foot. It felt strange to be naked in bright light with him. I was immediately conscious of all my flaws—the breasts that were no longer perky and full, the stretch marks on my stomach, the mummy tummy. I tried to hide behind my arms somehow, but he knew what I was doing.

  “Stop it. You’re beautiful.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m old and my body isn’t like what it used to be.”

  “Well, guess what? I never knew your body then, so I’m not comparing, and I think it’s perfect. I’m older than you are, anyway.”

  “That’s different.” I stepped aside so he could get wet. “Men aren’t judged as harshly as women are. You don’t have to deal with pregnancy and childbirth and all that.” I thought about the images I’d seen behind closed eyes last night, and my heart beat faster.

  “Good thing there are no judges here.” He grabbed me and pulled me close, so the hot water streamed over both our bodies.

  I rested my cheek on his chest as his arms came around me, wishing that pit in my stomach would just go away. This felt so good.

  “Mmmm.” He sniffed my wet hair. “I love that smell.”

  “You can use my shampoo if you want.”

  “I don’t think it will have the same effect on me.”

  I smiled. “You never know. Want me to wash your hair?”

  “Definitely.”

  I washed his hair, laughing when he kept grabbing my sudsy hands to smell them, and soaped him up with my body wash. He inhaled deeply. “Oh my God, I’m going to smell like one of your desserts. What is this stuff?” He grabbed the tube from my hand. “Marshmallow Pumpkin Latte? Are you kidding me?”

  “I thought you liked it.” I smiled as I lathered up his pecs and abs and—

  “Hold on a minute.” He circled my wrists with his fingers. “I’m not sure my dick is supposed to smell like a marshmallow. Marshmallows are soft and small.”

  “But you’re not,” I said, wriggling free and taking his cock in my hands. Forgetting all about why I didn’t want to have sex this morning, I let his hardening flesh slip through my fist.

  He groaned. “Don’t you have anything more manly? Like Hot Steely Wood or something?”

  I burst out laughing. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t.”

  He squirted some body wash into his hands. “I get to do you now.”

  “But I’m not done,” I said coquettishly, batting my lashes at him as I worked my hands up and down his thickening shaft.

  “Take a break.” He switched places with me. “Or there’s going to be a marshmallow pumpkin explosion in here.”

  “I don’t mind.” But I let him lather me up, enjoying the sensual, slippery feel of his hands on my skin and the scent of the steam clouding around us as we rinsed off. Another little world all to ourselves. If only we never had to leave.

  Maybe I could lose this anxious feeling by distracting myself from it. “So I have a few minutes before I have to get dressed.”

  “Oh yeah?” His eyes darkened a little as he watched me rinse off.

  Five minutes later, I was braced against the wall as Wes drove into me from behind, my legs still weak from the orgasm he’d just given me with his fingertips, my gasps echoing off the tiles. His hands gripped my hips, his fingers digging into my skin. He was rougher with me than Drew, and I liked it. It made me feel strong and sexy that I could take it. Yes, yes, this is what I needed.

  He pulled out before he came, and I turned around to watch him finish himself off. It was so fucking hot, watching him come all over his hand, his abs flexing, the muscles in his arms taut. I could barely breathe.

  But as the glow faded, the unease crept back in. I tried to brush it off. It’s the weather. It’s the worry that Lenore will catch him coming in. It’s the decision we made to leave separately. But as I watched him run out to the garage through the rain, I could not shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. That I’d made a mistake somewhere along the way. That we were on borrowed time.

  What I really needed was a sign, I decided on the way to work. I needed some indication from the universe that I was doing things right. That I wasn’t fucking up my life, or more importantly, the life of my daughter. If I could just see a sign or two, I’d feel better. Nothing big, nothing drastic, just something to let me know everything was going to be okay.

  Or that it wasn’t, and I needed to retreat before I got hurt.

  Suddenly the rain started pounding my windshield, coming down so hard and fast I couldn’t see. “I said nothing drastic,” I complained, turning up my wiper speed.

  But I ended up pulling over and waiting it out, worrying about everything and playing with the fourth finger of my left hand, where my ring used to be.

  Seventeen

  WES

  It had been a long time since I’d tried to sneak into my parents’ house. Back in the day, Drew and I used to climb this one tree to get onto the roof, and from there we’d just go through his bedroom window. As I pulled up, I so dreaded the inquisition I was sure to get from my mother that I actually considered giving it a try.

  But I didn’t. I wasn’t that nervous teenager any more. I was a full-grown man, and I had the right to come and go as I pleased. If she wanted me in her house for the time being, she’d have to deal with that.

  Still, I sort of hoped no one would be in the kitchen to witness my walk of shame.

  No such luck.

  “Well, my goodness!” said my mother, seated at the kitchen table with Abby and my dad. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

  I probably did look like something the cat dragged in, wearing yesterday’s clothes, wrinkled from a night on Hannah’s floor and rained-drenched from this morning. I ran a hand through my damp hair. “Morning.”

  “Morning,” said my dad.

  “We’re having waffles,” Abby announced. “I made some, just like Mommy makes.”

  “But even better,” added my mom, “because they’re Nana’s secret recipe.”

  I rolled my eyes and headed for the stairs.

  “And where were you?”

  None of your business, I wanted to say. But I’d promised my dad I’d tolerate her better, and I didn’t want to be an asshole in front of Abby. “I slept at Pete’s.”

  “At Pete’s?”

  “Yeah, fell asleep on his couch. I’m gonna change real quick.”

  Upstairs in my room, I traded my wet clothes for dry ones, and sent a quick text to Pete. Hey. Give me a call later.

  On the off chance that my mother ran into him somewhere, I didn’t want him to be blindsided by her questions about how we’d been spending so much time together recently.

  I’d have liked to hide out in my room for a while, but those waffles had smelled pretty good, and my stomach was growling. I went back to the kitchen, poured a cup of coffee and brought a plate to the table, where a big platter held waffles, scrambled eggs, and bacon. My dad had taken his coffee cup into the great room, where he always spent a couple
hours in his chair, reading the Sunday paper. I took his seat and piled my plate with food.

  “This looks delicious.” Always good to open with a compliment.

  I could feel my mother’s eyes on me as I ate.

  “Any plans today?” she asked.

  “Not really.”

  “How about this week?”

  “Not sure.”

  “Uncle Wes is going to be my special person at school,” said Abby, smiling proudly. “He said he would.”

  “Oh?” My mom looked from Abby to me. “What’s a special person?”

  “It’s someone in the family who visits their classroom, reads a story, that kind of thing,” I said. “Right, Abs?”

  “Right. It’s for when I’m student of the week. A lot of kids bring their dads, but I asked if I could bring an uncle, and my teacher said it was fine.”

  “How nice.” My mother sipped her coffee.

  “Because I asked Uncle Wes the night before if he could be my dad, and he said he couldn’t.”

  My mother’s cup clattered onto the table. “What?”

  “Mom. Don’t worry about it.”

  “He said I already had a dad,” Abby went on, “and no one can take his place.”

  “That’s right.” My mother reached out and touched Abby’s arm. “Your daddy was Drew, remember? We looked at all the pictures together?”

  “Yes, but that daddy isn’t here anymore, and my mom and I are sad about it. And it’s okay to be sad,” she said, probably echoing Hannah or maybe her therapist, “but it’s better when you’re happy. Mommy is happy when uncle Wes comes over.”

  “Is she?” My mother pinned me with a stare.

  “Yes. She doesn’t cry as much during the night anymore. That’s why I thought he could move in with us. But Mommy said he can’t, because he just bought his own house.”

  “That’s right, I did.” Maybe I could get the train back on the tracks before it completely derailed. “Remember that orange and purple bedroom?”

  “I said he could sell that house.” Abby looked at me pleadingly. “So can you? Sell that house?”