“Am I missing something here?” he asked as he jerkily pulled his boxers up his thick thighs. “’Cause I was pretty sure you were on board with all that.”
I didn’t answer. I had absolutely no clue what to say.
“Morgan,” he said again sharply, making my head lurch up in surprise. “Please tell me that I didn’t get my signals crossed here.”
The look on his face and the way he held his body made my stomach twist in remorse.
“You didn’t,” I said scratchily, shaking my head. “I told you yes.” I cleared my throat. “More than once.”
“Then what the fuck, baby?” he asked softly, taking a step forward.
“We shouldn’t have done this,” I said, retreating back a few steps. “This was such a bad idea.”
His head flew back like I’d slapped him.
“I disagree.”
“I’m sorry,” I replied, wrapping my arms around my waist. I really wished I was wearing more clothes. I’d have done damn near anything for a freaking robe.
“Yeah.” He made a sound in his throat and looked at the floor, rubbing a hand down his face. “Me too.”
We were silent as he put his clothes back on. I tried to keep my eyes averted to give him some privacy, but couldn’t help but glance over a few times, marveling at the way his muscles flexed as he moved. I knew it was a bad idea, and I was nauseous with guilt, but I still wanted him so badly that my heart was racing.
“Bye,” he said awkwardly, giving me a shallow nod before walking calmly out the front door and closing it quietly behind him.
“Oh shit,” I said, once he was gone. “Oh, God. Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
I stood there in the entryway, replaying every single moment since he’d come to the door, with the heels of my hands pressed against my stinging eyes, until I heard Etta calling for me.
Chapter 11
Trevor
I’d done a lot of stupid things in my life. I’d let my cousin Kate cut my hair into a Mohawk. I’d raced my car when I was sixteen to earn extra cash. I’d sold the only thing I had left from my birth parents, a watch I’d been told was my grandfather’s, because I was angry. But I’d never, in my entire life, done something as stupid as bending Morgan over her kitchen table and fucking her like I hadn’t had a woman in years.
I was shaking as I drove back to my hotel.
I’d really messed up this time.
As soon as I threw my parents’ SUV into park, I quickly dragged my phone out of the pocket of my shorts.
Within seconds, I was blurting, “I need to talk to you.”
My cousin Ani didn’t miss a beat. “Hit me,” she shot back.
“I need you to listen and I need you to keep your mouth shut and then I need you to tell me what the fuck to do.”
“Oh, shit, Trev,” she said, clearly understanding the gravity of my words. “Give me a sec.”
She put me on hold while I fidgeted and slammed my head back against the headrest, then came back on the line.
“Tell me what happened.”
“I like her. I’m fucking crazy about her,” I said quickly. “I’ve been thinking about her since the minute we met. It’s not getting any better. If anything, it’s getting worse. The more I see her, the more I want to see her.”
“We’re talking about Morgan?” she asked.
“I told you not to speak.”
“Sorry. Continue,” she said, clearly amused.
“So, we’ve been talking. Flirting, kind of. She’s into me, I know that much. The chemistry is through the roof. I swear to God, it’s enough to burn a fucking house down.” I rubbed at the headache growing right above my eyes. “I’m never wrong about this shit, Ani. Never.”
I paused, but she’d taken my directions to heart and didn’t reply.
“I had sex with her,” I blurted, unable to stem the flow of words. “It was incredible. I sound like an idiot, I know that, okay? But it was the best sex of my life. What the hell is wrong with me?”
“Oh, shit,” Ani murmured, her surprise obvious. “What is it with the people in this family boning inappropriate partners?”
At any other time, I would have laughed at the truth in her words. My cousin Kate had gotten pregnant with her dead best friend’s husband, my foster brother Shane, and Anita had started a secret relationship with her foster brother Abraham. Neither of those situations had started out very well, but everyone ended up happy.
I didn’t see that happening for Morgan and me.
“Everything was great,” I said, shaking my head, then wincing at the way the movement made my head pound. “But then the second we were finished, she got weird.”
“Weird, how?”
“She got jittery—started getting dressed as fast as she could and told me it was a mistake.”
“Oh,” Ani muttered.
“What does that mean, ‘oh’?” I replied, panicky. “What?”
“I don’t know her, Trev,” Ani said soothingly, trying to calm my ass down. “I’m not sure—”
“Just tell me.”
“It sounds like she was having some buyer’s remorse,” she admitted apologetically.
“You think?” I asked sarcastically. “Tell me what to do.”
“Take a step back,” she said instantly. “Trev, take two steps back.”
“I don’t even know if that’s possible.”
“It has to be,” she argued. “You have to look at this from all angles, dude. She’s Etta’s mother.”
“I know that!”
“Then you know that what I’m saying isn’t bullshit,” she snapped. “This chick is going to be around. She has to be if we’re going to see Henry’s kid. Don’t fucking scare her away.”
I inhaled sharply at the idea that Morgan would use what happened as a way to distance herself and Etta from my family.
“She wouldn’t do that,” I said, refusing even to contemplate it. I couldn’t imagine that scenario without losing my fucking mind. It was hard enough having any respect for myself after banging my brother’s ex, but if I ruined our chance at having a relationship with Etta I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
“You don’t know that,” Ani said, not unkindly. “You don’t know her very well, Trev. You guys have been talking, I know, but you’ve only been around her a couple of times.”
“I know her,” I argued.
“If you knew her, you would have seen that she wasn’t ready to have sex with you.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the chest. “Is that what you think of me?” I asked in bewilderment. “Seriously?”
“Trev, no,” she argued. “That’s not what I meant. You’re taking my words wrong.”
“They were pretty fucking clear.”
“I have no doubt that she was willing,” Ani said quickly. “Don’t be an idiot.”
“Of course she was,” I practically yelled.
“I’m just saying that maybe she wasn’t ready yet, asshole,” Ani shot back, her voice rising, too. “You guys barely know each other, and you’re Henry’s brother.”
Inhaling through my nose, I made an effort to calm myself down. I was reacting instinctively without thinking about what I was saying, and it was beginning to make me feel even more anxious.
I always thought things through. Always. So why had I gone off half cocked and done something so idiotic?
“Just give her some space, Trev,” Ani said gently, while I continued to breathe slowly, in through my nose and out through my mouth. “That’s the best advice I can give you.”
“I’m sorry I yelled,” I replied. I wasn’t someone who argued or spoke to people angrily. I thought things through and replied calmly and rationally—always.
“No worries,” Anita replied. “It was kind of mind-blowing listening to you lose your cool. You are human.”
“Funny,” I muttered.
“It’ll work out, dude.”
“Thanks for the talk,” I said.
; “Anytime. You know that.”
We got off the phone, but I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
Anita had just told me to give Morgan space, and I knew that it was solid advice, but I couldn’t stand leaving things the way they were. I wrote and rewrote the text message four times before I finally pressed SEND.
I don’t think it was a mistake.
Simple and direct.
I stayed where I was for half an hour, staring out the window while the car idled. She didn’t text me back.
* * *
“I just think that maybe we could get to know them better if they came to our place for a visit,” my mom said the next morning at breakfast. We were eating at the hotel before we went over to Morgan’s again, and my mom was trying to convince my dad that it was a good idea to invite Morgan and Etta to Oregon. “Her dad monopolizes the conversation and Morgan can’t seem to get a word in edgewise.”
“I didn’t notice that,” my dad replied, clearly not agreeing with her.
I didn’t agree with my mom’s opinion, either. If anything, Morgan’s dad had seemed hesitant to speak, unless he felt like his daughter needed him to step in. The man was a pro at redirecting conversation, and he did so whenever Morgan began to look uncomfortable or unsure. I respected him a lot for that. He’d clearly let his daughter take the lead, even though anyone could see how protective he was.
“There’s no hurt in asking,” Dad said, reaching out to pat Mom’s hand. “But they’re just getting settled down here, so I doubt she’ll say yes.”
He had no idea how right he was about what Morgan would think in regard to visiting Oregon. She’d never texted me back the day before, and I’d had a long time to think about what that meant and how I planned on responding.
There was only one thing I could do to salvage the situation. It felt wrong, and it killed me to do it, but I had to step back, like Ani had advised. If there was any chance of getting Morgan back to the point where she was comfortable with me again, I had to find a way to go back to being her friend, nothing more. When I’d come to the decision early that morning, I’d thought I’d feel better about it. I’d been wrong. I felt worse as I sat there listening to my parents, knowing that I had to keep my distance from the woman they were discussing.
“I bet she will,” my mom argued, snapping me back to the subject at hand. “Her sister lives in Bend. I bet we could use that as incentive.”
“You sound like a used-car salesman,” I replied, shaking my head. “Why don’t you just ask and let Morgan decide without using anything else to lure her?”
“I’m not trying to lure her,” Mom said, tilting her chin up. “I’m just trying to—”
“Lure her,” my dad cut in, laughing. He leaned over and kissed the side of Mom’s head. “Let’s just see what she says.”
Half an hour later, we were in the SUV on our way to Morgan’s dad’s house. Even though I’d assured Ani that she’d never keep Etta from us, I was still a little surprised that she hadn’t called to cancel. If I was feeling nervous about seeing her today, I couldn’t even imagine how she felt.
I didn’t regret having sex with Morgan, regardless of how the interlude had ended. I was disappointed about how she’d acted afterward and I’d felt like shit all night trying to figure out exactly how it had all gone wrong, but I couldn’t make myself regret it. I’d dream about her smooth skin, trembling muscles, and quiet sounds of pleasure for the rest of my life. It was a cross I would willingly bear.
“Have you talked to Kate lately?” my mom asked, dragging my attention from the scenery out my window. “She mentioned meeting us while we were here, but I haven’t heard anything about it since.”
“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “She didn’t say anything to me.”
“I should have called her this morning,” my mom mumbled, digging in her purse.
“We’re leaving tomorrow,” my dad reminded her. “If Kate didn’t show up last night, she’s not coming.”
I quietly pulled out my phone and texted my cousin while they argued about her plans.
You coming to Sacramento?
Gavin’s puking, so no. Sorry I didn’t let you know yesterday. Super disappointed.
“Gavin’s sick,” I said, interrupting my parents. “That’s why she didn’t call you yesterday.”
Inwardly, I breathed a sigh of relief. I was sorry that little Gavin was throwing up, but enormously thankful that Kate wouldn’t be anywhere near the situation I’d landed myself in. Unlike my parents, who wouldn’t suspect a thing, Kate would have taken one good look at me and known something was up. Then she probably would have meddled and made everything worse. I loved my cousin, but it was impossible for her to keep her nose out of other people’s business.
“Stan’s here again,” my mom said quietly as we pulled up to the house.
“I like him,” my dad replied with a shrug.
“Not surprising,” she said, smoothing down her hair. “You’re living vicariously through his car stories.”
“The man has good stories,” Dad said, climbing out of the driver’s seat.
I listened to them talk, their conversation moving to other things as we made our way up the sidewalk, but I barely noticed a word they said. I was too busy preparing myself to act casual when I came face-to-face with the woman who’d rejected me so spectacularly the day before.
The front door opened, and the first thing I saw was Etta, scrambling outside like she couldn’t wait a second longer to see us.
“Twevo!” she yelled, making my dad laugh as she bypassed them as if they didn’t exist.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I greeted as I lifted her high in the air.
As I lowered her to sit on my arm, my eyes met Morgan’s over her head, and my breath caught. Etta was chattering in her normal gibberish, but all I could see was her mother. Morgan was wearing a pale purple sundress and her hair was in a messy knot on top of her head. She was barefoot…and nervous. I hated that she was nervous.
“Hey guys,” she said, trying to hide the discomfort with an easy smile. “Come on in.”
“Thanks for having us over again,” my mom said as she started into the house.
“Of course,” Morgan replied, waving my dad into the house. “You should get as much time in as you can before you have to head north.”
She was being welcoming without a hint of hesitation, and I inhaled a huge sigh of relief. I was rarely wrong about people, and clearly Morgan was no exception. She wasn’t going to punish my parents for something they had no control over, and I shouldn’t have doubted her.
“Hey,” I said, giving her a small smile as I carried Etta inside.
She was obviously taken aback by my casual greeting, but after her initial reaction, she hid her surprise behind a small smile of her own.
The door closed behind me as I set Etta on her feet, and the second I stood back up I knew it wasn’t going to be easy to pretend that my feelings for Morgan had disappeared. I was standing in the exact spot where she’d torn off my shirt the day before, and the memory made my heart pound.
“Does anyone want coffee?” Morgan asked, moving across the room. Her voice wobbled only a little, but it was enough for me to realize that she’d been thinking about the same thing as me.
“I’d love a cup,” my dad said, sitting down on the couch.
“Lucky for you, my dad started it before he jumped in the shower,” Morgan replied with a little laugh. “My coffee is pretty bad.”
“You probably just don’t put enough grounds in,” my dad said, nodding. He took his coffee seriously. “That’s usually the problem.”
“You might be right,” Morgan conceded.
I stepped into the living room and sat on a chair just as my mom chimed in.
“I put enough grounds in, Mike,” she said in exasperation as she sat down on the floor with Etta and accepted a doll with a smile. “You’re just too picky.”
Morgan laughed and I felt it in my stomach. I didn’t
turn to look at her, though. If I had any chance of making my plan work, I needed to look at her as little as possible. Everything about her called to me, and I needed to keep my distance.
* * *
My mom and Etta played on the floor for over an hour while the rest of us talked about nothing significant. On the surface, the group seemed easy and relaxed around each other, but I could feel the tension in the room. The longer we spent in that small house, the more it seemed like my mom was desperate to soak up as much time with Etta as she could.
I wasn’t sure if Morgan and Stan noticed the way she’d completely checked out of our conversation, but one look at my dad told me that he’d seen the change happen, too. It was almost as if she was deliberately ignoring the fact that we were in the room in an attempt to focus solely on her only grandchild. I understood it, to an extent, but it also made me nervous for reasons I couldn’t really explain.
My mom had taken it so hard when Henry was killed. She’d raised him from the time he was little, so fierce in her attempts to protect him after the abuse he’d suffered as a baby that I sometimes wondered if his death had triggered some sense of failure in her. She hadn’t been able to protect him in the end; she hadn’t even had the opportunity.
“Me hungwy,” Etta said, getting to her feet to toddle toward Morgan. “Mama, Etta hungwy.”
“Okay,” Morgan said, lifting the baby onto her lap.
My mom jerked as if someone had poked her in the side, and my gaze shot to my dad, who was watching my mom intently.
“Does anyone else want something to eat?” Morgan asked, unaware of the strange undercurrents.
“I’m good,” I said, quickly turning to face her.
It was a mistake. She was standing too close. I could smell the lotion she wore and my mouth began to water.
I carefully left my expression blank as everyone else told her that they didn’t want anything, either.
“Get on up off the floor,” my dad said casually, reaching a hand out to my mom.
It was clear that Stan hadn’t noticed anything different, but I had to hold back a wince as my mom slowly nodded and lifted herself up off her knees. She was surrounded by dolls in different stages of undress, which made her disappointment even more depressing to watch.
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