Wild Love

by Lauren Accardo

  He sneered, looking down his nose at her as if she were a stain on his perfectly pressed white shirt. “You’re a bitch.”

  He brushed past her, crossed the street to his car, climbed in, and drove away.

  chapter sixteen

  Sam had planned to get an early start to the day, but Liv’s snoring woke him far sooner than he’d hoped. He dressed quickly, grabbed the backpack he’d filled the night before, and tiptoed past her tiny unconscious body sleeping soundly on the couch.

  She snored like that when she was drunk, he remembered. But after searching the kitchen, the trash, and her room for empties, he found nothing. The suspicion turned to guilt, and he disappeared before she woke. He didn’t have the time or energy to dive into Liv’s addictions today.

  A short, quiet drive later he arrived at the trailhead. His was the only car in the parking lot. Just as he’d hoped. The weather report was a balmy thirty-four degrees but called for heavy snowfall, and that suited him just fine. The worse the weather, the better. Sunny skies wouldn’t fit his mood today.

  He pulled his knit hat over his ears, tightened the laces on his hiking boots, and started out onto the snowy trail.

  Every few feet he looked up at the flat, motionless gray sky. A vast reminder that the world kept turning. The trees kept growing. Animals lived and died. Spring came and went. Nature was a constant, the ever-changing landscape that continued on, even when his mother did not.

  He trudged through the knee-high snow, keeping a steady pace. He had nowhere to be and no designated arrival time, but the energy of the morning and the date on the calendar pushed him forward.

  He craved the burning sensation in his legs, the heat radiating from his chest. In a while he’d have to remove his outermost layer, his body temperature climbing to an uncomfortable degree.

  Today was about his mom. Exactly a year ago on this day, she’d given in to the cancer and slipped away. With the news of her death came anger. He was angry that she hadn’t held on for one more Christmas, angry that none of his other friends had lost parents and now he’d lost both of his. Angry that despite everything she’d done for him, in her moment of need there was nothing he could do for her.

  Despite dedicating his morning to trekking out to his mother’s favorite spot, he couldn’t force thoughts of Sydney from his mind. Forget that his mother would’ve loved her. What was Sydney doing with that jerk at the bar last night? It had to be Connor. That cocky asshole didn’t fit in at the Butler House or in Pine Ridge, and the way he’d held her hands from across the table was too intimate to be someone new.

  His rage at seeing them together was dampened only by the disappointment. She was too good for someone who would cheat on her. And she’d looked so beautiful in her red blouse, makeup done for the party. Had she invited Connor to come? Did she want him there?

  The thought propelled him forward harder and faster, and he closed in on his destination in record time. The trail led most casual hikers to the edge of a lake, where in warmer months they could spread out a picnic and even take a dip in the water if they were brave enough.

  Sam had a different destination in mind. Fifteen feet away from the water’s edge, down a rocky ravine and half-covered by a tangle of tree roots and mountains of powdery snow, was a lean-to.

  His father had built the rickety structure for his mother despite the land being state property. It could’ve been torn down at any time. His mother always said the fact that it still stood after all this time was a testament to their love. It might’ve always been fraught with tension, but it lived on. He couldn’t imagine a more perfect spot to pay tribute to his mother on this day.

  As he approached the lake and made his way down the slippery embankment that gave way to the lean-to below, he paused. Until now, the air held a sharp stillness, only occasionally interrupted by a bird rustling in the bushes. Now he heard shifting and breathing. A person.

  “Hello?” His voice echoed over the frozen lake.

  “Hello?” a female voice called back. He stood rooted in place, just outside the lean-to, until Sydney Walsh’s head popped out.

  “What are you doing here?” The statement was sharper than he meant, but his surprise was palpable.

  “What are you doing here?” she said. “I was promised this would be an empty spot where I could be alone.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “My mom. She said it’s popular in the summer but once it snows, nobody comes down here.”

  Sam took a deep breath, the air crystallizing in front of his face. Her cheeks were blotchy and red from the cold, her eyes glassy. He wondered how long she’d been here. His anger toward her still smoldered.

  “The middle of the wilderness, and I still can’t find a spot to be completely by myself,” he said.

  “Just forget it,” she said, climbing to her feet and brushing the snow from her gloves. “I’ll go. I’m getting cold anyway.”

  “Stop,” he said. He forced a gentleness into his voice that he didn’t quite believe he pulled off. “Sit down. I was gonna make a fire.”

  The lines around her eyes softened, and she stared back at him. Only a few square inches of her face showed, most of it obstructed by a scarf and hat. What he could see reminded him of their kiss.

  “If you want to be alone, that’s fine,” she said. “Seriously, I don’t mind. I wanted to be alone myself.”

  “Let’s be alone together,” he said.

  She pressed her lips together and studied him again.

  “I have food,” he said. “Does that change your mind?”

  “Do you have any water? I’m kind of thirsty.”

  “You didn’t bring any water on a hike?” He leaned forward as he spit out the words.

  “I figured it’s winter and I wouldn’t need it,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. She wore an oddly small pale pink puffer coat, the sleeves a few inches too short and the buttons straining at her chest. It had to be Karen’s.

  “You know, that’s one of those things that’ll tip people off to you not being from Pine Ridge.”

  She cocked one eyebrow and pursed her lips. “Live and learn.”

  He pulled off his backpack and unhooked the small pack of firewood he’d brought with him. After stomping out a flat area just outside the roof of the lean-to, he pulled over the large flat rock just inside the structure and built a small teepee of sticks. He tucked a fire starter inside the teepee and lit a match.

  “Is this something else I should know in order to be treated like a local?” she asked.

  “This is something I was born knowing.”

  “When I envision you as a baby, I see you with a beard wearing a tiny red plaid flannel. Now I can add ‘making campfires’ to that visual.”

  Annoyance churned inside him. How dare she continue flirting with him when she was spending time with her ex. He couldn’t ask to be the only man in her life, but he thought she’d at least have some respect for his feelings.

  When he didn’t respond, she cleared her throat. “Do you want this to be a no-talking hang? Because I can shut up.”

  “Can you?” The retort snapped out like a rubber band, and she recoiled.

  “Seriously, what is your problem?” Her jaw tensed, and her chocolate-brown eyes flared dangerously. “If anyone should be mad at anyone here, it’s me at you. You didn’t even bother to show up to the party last night. Thanks for that.”

  The fire crackled to life beside him as he turned slowly, his lips parted and his eyes wide. The moment the party was announced he knew he couldn’t show up. He’d envisioned himself standing awkwardly in the corner, trying not to stare longingly at Sydney while the entire town saw right through him.

  “Really? I was supposed to show up to that party?”

  “Yes!” Her eyes flew open as her hands raised toward the sky. “I thought we were
friends. All my other friends were there.”

  “Yeah, I know. I saw you and your friend at the Butler House.”

  He turned back to the fire, squeezing his eyes shut in admonishment. What the fuck are you doing? Turning into a jealous teenager? She’s your friend. You have zero claim.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice was nearly lost on a breeze.

  “That’s where all the animosity is coming from? Connor?”

  He poked at the fire and tried to come up with a response. Of course it was Connor. It was Connor, it was Liv, it was this town. It was anything standing in the way of him kissing her and touching her and feeling his skin on her skin. The attraction was all-consuming, and every roadblock now felt like pure, concentrated torture.

  Sam crawled backward into the lean-to and settled down in the dirt next to her. He kept his eyes trained on the fire as the flames licked and danced in their bed, reaching toward the sky.

  “My mom died a year ago today.”

  He didn’t mean to derail their conversation about Connor and the party, but he didn’t know how to continue talking to her unless she knew the full extent of his torment.

  He remembered every hour of that day. How he’d woken up thinking it was surprisingly warm for December and that maybe he’d see if Jorie and Matt wanted to meet him for lunch. He changed Patty DiOrio’s flat tire, he stained a coffee table he’d made for a doctor’s office in Indian Lake, and he’d even taken a nap. It had been a nice day.

  And then at four o’clock on the dot, like you see in movies, his home phone rang. Liv had made the call. She said his mother had “passed on.” His mind still cloudy from the nap, he thought she’d been talking about his mother’s bowel movements, which he knew far too much about at that point. He’d actually asked, “Passed on what?”

  In the months and days leading up to the anniversary, an internal countdown clock ticked away. The closer the date got, the more severe his headaches. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, spending time with Sydney was the only thing that gave him any relief.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. Her gloved hand found his, and she held it tightly. The tears sprang up in his eyes, and he ran his free hand over them, wiping away any evidence.

  “It’s why I wanted to be alone today. It’s why I’m acting like a total fucking nutjob.”

  “Dude,” she said, her voice full of warmth. “Why didn’t you say something? You’re allowed to act however you want to act today. You could’ve brought Celine Dion CDs and cried for hours to ‘All by Myself,’ and I would’ve understood.”

  He lifted his eyes to meet hers, and a smile played on her lips.

  “Maybe I’ll save that one for later.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

  Her hand remained hooked on his. He didn’t dare move. “Not really.”

  She looked back toward the fire, the reflection of the flames flickering in her eyes. “Well, I’m sorry I commandeered your spot.”

  “It’s ironic, actually.” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her face. “My dad built this lean-to for my mom. In much happier days, obviously. But she liked to come here when it was warm out. I figured it would be a good spot for the day, and then I show up and you’re here.”

  “Where’s the irony? Her name was Sydney?”

  “No,” he said, laughing. She would’ve loved you. And you’re the only person who’s made me feel okay since she died. “Never mind. I’m gonna sound creepy.”

  She pulled her hand away slowly and stared at him with wide, fearful eyes. “Oh God, what is it? I look like her and you want to peel my face off and turn it into a mask and then wear my skin like a coat?”

  “Are you kidding? You are way too small to make a good skin coat.”

  She gave him her signature lip-press-into-smile and leaned back against the wall of the lean-to. “So what? Go ahead. Be creepy.”

  He shook his head and trained his eyes on the dirt underneath his outstretched legs. He barely felt the cold. “I don’t know how to put this really but . . . I have friends. Good friends. And I’m really grateful for them, but I haven’t met anybody in a long time who, um . . .”

  He took a deep breath and forced himself to look at her. A rogue strand of hair had broken loose from her gray knit hat and drifted lazily around her sharp cheekbones. She made him feel things. Things that scared him.

  “I haven’t met anybody in a really long time,” he repeated, summoning all his courage, “who’s made me feel the way you make me feel.”

  The bemused smile faded from her lips. “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, looking back at the fire.

  “No, come on. You started this.”

  Come on, man, say it. You already kissed her. She won’t be surprised. “I feel okay when I’m with you. Better. This sounds crazy.”

  “Stop telling me what I should think sounds creepy or crazy. So far I’m still sitting here.”

  He yanked off his gloves and ran his bare hands over his face, still refusing to look at her. “I get these tension headaches. Ever since Mom died. I went to the doctor once, and he said it’s just stress. That’s the only cause. Stress. And when I’m with you, they go away.”

  He stared at the fire until ten, and then fifteen seconds passed in silence. Finally, he let his eyes drift across the dirt and up to her face. The smile was back.

  In a tiny voice she said, “I didn’t know that.”

  He ran a hand underneath his hat and over his hair. Pouring his heart out left him feeling like he had bugs crawling all over his skin. “Well, now you do.”

  “Did my mom know your mom?” she asked.

  His brow narrowed in confusion. “Yeah. Everybody knows everybody in this town.”

  “Were they friends?”

  “My mom was kind of a loner,” he said. “She didn’t have a ton of friends. But she and your mom were friendly. They said hi in the grocery store. That type of thing.”

  Her face twisted in thought, and she nodded slowly.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I was thinking it would’ve been weird and nice if I’d chosen this spot at random. The same spot you were headed for on the anniversary of your mom’s passing. But my mom told me to come here today. I wondered if maybe she knew about the anniversary and had a trick up her sleeve.”

  He thought back to Thanksgiving, when Karen had warned him to start keeping his cool around her daughter if he wanted to keep the peace with Liv.

  “I don’t think so,” he said. He picked up a twig and traced lines in the dirt. “Your mom knows about Liv.”

  The mood shifted as if he’d thrown a bucket of cold water on their simmering tension. She pulled away and faced out toward the front of the lean-to.

  “So how long do you have to remain in your weird forced celibacy?” she said, her voice icy.

  “It’s not forced celibacy.” His heart thudded.

  The celibate aspect of his arrangement with Liv was self-imposed. He wasn’t in love with Liv anymore, that much he knew. But he couldn’t sleep around, much less date, while simultaneously pouring all his mental energy into helping her put her life back together. He also hadn’t met anybody worth compromising their agreement for.

  Until now.

  “Accidental celibacy?” she said. Her face softened. “Or are you guys still sleeping together?”

  Talking about sex with Sydney in any capacity made his dick stir. He couldn’t help it. After they’d kissed, his imagination had run wild. Now that he knew what her lips and tongue tasted like, he’d spent many solitary hours envisioning what the rest of her would taste like.

  “Can I propose something?” he said.

  She squinted. “What?”

  “I’m tired of tiptoeing around this shit. There are things I want to know a
bout you. And there are obviously things you want to know about me. Can we just cut the bullshit and be real with each other?”

  Her face was still and blank as she nodded.

  “No holds barred, all right?” he asked.

  She nodded again and shifted once more so that she was facing him.

  “You cold?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  He needed a second to clear his head. The questions he wanted to know, needed to know, rattled around inside his brain like change in a tin can. But the one that he kept coming back to was, Do you want me?

  He pulled a water bottle from his backpack, took a long swig, and then handed it to her. While she drank, her raspberry red lips sucking at the mouth of the bottle in ways he couldn’t begin to let himself linger on, he found granola bars in the front pocket of his pack and tore one open.

  “Want one?” he asked as she handed back the water bottle.

  “We need sustenance for this conversation?”

  “Yeah.”

  She grinned and accepted the snack. “You first.”

  “Did you invite Connor to the party last night?” Better to start small.

  “No,” she said emphatically, her eyes growing wide with the word. “I definitely did not.”

  His heart rate slowed just a bit. “Okay. Now you.”

  She bit her lip before asking, “When is the last time you and Liv slept together?”

  “Right for the jugular,” he said under his breath. “Not since I found out she cheated on me. So, eight years ago. I let her and Jay move into my spare bedrooms about a year ago, after her DUI.”

  She nodded and toyed with the granola bar wrapper. “Have you slept with anyone since she moved in with you?”

  “Hey, I thought we were alternating?” He wasn’t sure why it mattered, but this one he didn’t want to answer. If he admitted to sleeping with someone else while he was committed to helping Liv, then what was stopping him and Sydney now? If his mind went there, he’d never get it back.

  “Okay, fine,” she said. “You go.”

  “Is anything going on with you and Connor?”