by Harlow James
“Can I think about it?” she asks, peering up at me nervously.
“Of course.”
“Okay.”
I press a kiss to her lips and then return to my breakfast, trying to hide the gigantic cloud of disappointment hovering over me. I understand her being hesitant, but a part of me was hoping she’d be thrilled to dress up and accompany me to the event. I guess I need to remember just how different our lives are and that Shayla will need time to acclimate to mine if she decides that’s what she wants.
We spent an incredible day and night together, more perfect than I could have planned. And now that we explored our physical connection as well, I know I’m in deep fucking trouble. Being with her made me want to bare every deep dark secret and ounce of my soul to her. The gleam in her eyes when I hovered over her, the way she let go completely with me and let me explore her body, the warmth of her curves next to mine as we slept after hours of fucking—each detail just reminded me of how alone I’ve been, how another person’s touch is an unexplainable craving, no matter how much you think you don’t need it.
And it also reminded me of everything I’m still hiding and working through. Addiction isn’t something that can be cured—it’s a battle you fight each day, and one that you can’t do alone or keep from someone forever. And I still have several things I need to conquer while I’m in Santa Barbara for the next few months.
But now that Shayla is in my life, I’m starting to feel less in control. Her presence is stirring up feelings, thoughts, and needs I thought I’d never let myself have again.
As if the universe needed to remind me of why I’m back in this part of California, my phone rings on the counter, vibrating against the surface. When I see the number flash across the screen, my anxiety spikes and a surge of adrenaline runs through me.
“I need to take this. I’ll be right back,” I say, not stopping to hear a response from Shayla as I rush to the master bedroom and shut the door, leaning up against it.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Wes.”
“Good morning, Lydia. How are you?” My body is shaking, but I’m trying to remain calm. Crazy how one phone call can rattle my senses.
“Doing well. A little tired, but that’s how I feel every day.”
“I’m sorry. How can I help you?”
She takes a deep breath. “I just wanted to make sure that we were still on for tomorrow.”
I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Yes. I’ll be there.”
“Okay,” she releases on the breath she just took. “I’m nervous. Nolan doesn’t know you’re coming.”
“And he still doesn’t know who I am, right?”
“Yes. That’s what we agreed to and I think that’s best. He’s not in the best place right now, and I’m not sure that sharing your connection to him is going to do any good at the moment. He just seems to be struggling a bit these past few days, but I think your visit will help boost his spirit.”
I close my eyes and exhale in frustration. Fuck. What if the kid gets an attitude and won’t even let me speak to him?
“I agree. It could only cause harm at this point. Maybe once I tell him about the facility, he’ll perk up a bit.”
“I hope so. I never knew that eleven would be such a challenging age.”
“I know. But you’re doing an amazing job with him, Lydia. I can’t imagine what life has been like for you.”
“It’s not easy, but the money you’ve given us at least combats that aspect to stress about.”
“I wish there were more I could do. I wish I could take back everything …”
She cuts me off. “I don’t, Wes. He’s my son. My life would be empty without him. And he’ll need to know about you eventually.”
“I know.”
“Okay. Then we’ll see you tomorrow evening?” she asks as I hear a voice call her in the background.
“Yes. See you then.”
The line goes silent as I remove the phone from my ear and see she’s hung up. Uneasiness flows through my body knowing what’s happening tomorrow, how crucial this meeting is for me to make amends, to continue the process of healing, to see exactly why I’m here.
I shove my phone in my pocket and head back out to the kitchen as I see Shayla washing the dishes from breakfast. Just the sight of her doing something so simple, so domestic, gives me a glimpse of a life I never felt I deserved, but might just be possible.
I’ve owned my past. I’ve worked my steps. I’m on the way to making amends in all aspects of my life. And maybe Shayla is exactly the person to help me see that I have to keep moving forward, out of the darkness and into the light that she’s brought in to my life.
***
We’re standing outside of Shayla’s apartment, preparing to say goodbye, but I’m having the hardest time letting go. If I had my way, we’d stay out on that boat forever, away from the real world and all the good and bad that comes with it.
Staring down into her hazel eyes causes a million emotions to run through me. Even though I was feeling hopeful last night and early this morning, thinking back on that phone call with Lydia has doubt creeping in once more.
Shayla told me why she’s scared to let me in last night, and then she gave me all of her—but can I ever be one-hundred percent honest with her about my fears? Is my past going to come back full force and push her away—not because I don’t want her, but because she won’t want me when she finds out everything?
“Where’s your head at right now?” she asks, running her fingernails along my neck as I hold her waist and pull her tighter to my chest.
“I don’t want to say goodbye.” It’s not a lie, but the goodbye I’m referring to is the forever kind, the one that can threaten to derail the stable ground I fight to stay on each day.
“Me neither. I had the best time. I almost wish you would have ravished me once more this morning,” she murmurs against my lips.
“I did,” I answer back, thinking about just how beautiful she looked riding me after we woke up.
“I mean again. How long before I get to see you next?”
I know I have a busy week up ahead and Shayla starts classes on Monday as well. Life is slapping us back in the face, reminding me of the many obstacles that will fight to keep us apart, besides my own that I’m harboring.
“I’ll need to check my calendar when I get home. But I’m sure I can make some time somewhere.”
“I’d like that.” She smiles and then kisses me, breathing me in as I inhale her right back. I get lost in her for just a moment longer, never wanting to let her go. But I have to.
“I’ll call you later,” I say with a press of my lips to her nose and then start to retreat to my car.
“Bye, Mr. Billionaire,” she teases as she turns to unlock her door and step inside.
As I drive back to my estate, I internally battle with everything I’m feeling, only to end up slightly irritated when I arrive back home alone and no more decided on what I feel.
I wish Shayla were with me, bringing life to an empty home that already feels full of loss. Grace is off since it’s Sunday, so I’m left to my own devices as I unpack my suitcase and decide on a long run on the treadmill to work through the tension building in my body.
Once I finish my run, shower, and heat something up for an early dinner, I settle into my couch and open up my laptop, eager to immerse myself in work since I ignored hundreds of emails while we were out on the ocean. After an hour of staring at the screen and tired from a long night that I wouldn’t give back for one second, I close my laptop and decide to head to bed early, needing to catch up on rest and mentally prepare for a big day tomorrow.
***
“Welcome, everyone.” A man that looks old enough to be my father greets the five of us sitting in the chairs arranged in a circle. The doors and windows are closed in this small office, and most of the people here are dressed in attire that looks similar to mine—business types, people with status that need the same type of privacy I was
looking for in a meeting like this.
“Good afternoon,” we reply back in almost perfect unison.
“Let’s start the meeting with some introductions. I’m Seth and I’m an alcoholic, but I’ve been sober for fifteen years. I run closed meetings for people just like yourselves who need a safe place to go when you feel your addiction bearing over you. Please remember that you don’t have to share today. You can just listen, but ultimately, remember that every one of us here struggles with addiction and this is a judgment free zone.”
I see collective nods from the other four people, and then Seth encourages us to share. The woman sitting next to me goes first—a thirty-year-old wife and mother who turned to alcohol after her own mother died. The guy on the other side of me goes next, sharing his gambling and drinking addiction that cost him everything, including his marriage. And another man younger than me with sunglasses covering his eyes declines sharing his story, keeping his arms folded across his chest as he slumps in his chair. The other woman here is a lawyer and is fairly new to the program, but seems to be making progress.
But then all of the eyes turn on me. I debate pulling the same card the young guy did, but that’s not going to help me process what I’m feeling, what’s going through my brain knowing that in a few short hours I’m going to confront a huge part of my past.
“I’m Wes,” I start and everyone echoes a hello back. “I’m thirty-one, and I’m an alcoholic. I started drinking heavily around age twenty-four before my grandfather died, but really hit the bottle hard after he was gone and I found out he left everything he had to me. Vodka was my drink of choice, and the final straw was being pulled over for a DUI. My family was put in jeopardy and so was my company. Luckily, I knew I didn’t want to live my life that way, so I got help. Got clean. It’s been six years,” I murmur, holding up my chip that I tucked in my pocket today, feeling like I needed that reminder with me. “And today I’m meeting someone from my past that was hurt by my addiction. Someone that I let down in more ways than one. And the thought of doing so makes me want a drink. But I know better.”
“It’s okay to admit it, Wes,” Seth chimes in. “You’re human.”
“I know. But part of me being back here is so I can work through my steps. Make amends. Heal. Everything came crashing down here in Santa Barbara, but it’s time to keep moving forward.”
“That’s all you can do. I wish you luck today. Please let us know how it goes.”
“I will.”
Within an hour, I’m driving back to my office as a call from Hayes comes through my Bluetooth speaker in my car.
“Hey.”
“Hey, man. I just wanted to check on you. I know today’s the day,” he offers in the only serious tone I know he has. Hayes is usually busting my balls the second I answer his calls, but he knows how important today is for me. And that’s why he’s my best friend.
“Yeah. I’m headed back to the office for a little bit, and then I’m going over.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Nervous as all hell, but I’m managing.”
“You’ve spoken to her? She knows you’re still coming?”
“Yes. She actually called yesterday when I was with Shayla. I had to go in another room to take the call.”
“Fuck. Do you think she heard?”
“No. I think I’m good, but I’m freaking out about so much right now. I just went to a meeting.”
“Maybe Shayla can help you relax,” he teases, but not at a full throttle for him.
“That’s none of your concern.”
He goes silent for a minute and then the Hayes I know and love comes out. “Holy fuck. You banged her, didn’t you?”
“Hayes …”
“I knew the yacht would do you good. Hot damn, Wes. You succeeded! Operation ‘wet your dick’ is complete!”
“Fuck, Hayes. Shut up.” I pull into my parking space and cut the engine.
“Ah, hell. You’re a goner, aren’t you, Wesley? Did her magical pussy put you under her spell?”
“It’s not like that fucker,” I groan as I run my fingers through my hair. “Shit. She’s… fuck, Hayes. I’m so fucking screwed.”
His manic laugh echoes through the speakers. “Yeah you are, Wes. I wouldn’t want that for myself, at all,” he emphasizes, “but I think this is exactly what you need.”
“There’s so much she doesn’t know, Hayes. How the fuck am I supposed to tell her everything?”
“You don’t. Not now. Don’t spill your guts just because her pussy threatens to squeeze it out of you.”
“Christ,” I breathe out.
“Just relax. You can only handle one thing at a time, Wes. Focus on today, on Nolan. And then worry about Shayla as it comes. But I still can’t believe you fucked her, big guy. So soon. I’m so proud,” he mocks.
“She’s intoxicating, man.” My voice is low, as if admitting that to him is hard to say. “Being with her made me feel… alive again.”
“Jeez. I don’t know that I’ve ever said that about a woman.”
“I know you haven’t, because if you had, I’d be giving you even more shit than you’re giving me. But there’s something about her. I knew it that first night at the club, and now I’m sure.”
“Damn.”
“It’s real. But I don’t want to go through the same shit I did before. I don’t want things to happen with her like they did with …”
“I know, man. I know. But she’s not her. And you’re not that same guy. Just breathe.”
“I feel like my heart is trying to escape from my chest.”
“Man, it’s a good thing there aren’t women around to overhear us having this heart-warming conversation or my balls would be brought into question.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Don’t worry. I know I’m the only one that knows what a softie you really are.”
“Fuck you, Wes. And if you ever tell anyone, you know I’ll deny it.”
“Wouldn’t doubt it for a second.”
“Alright. I’ll let you go. Call me later and let me know how it goes.”
“I will.”
“Good luck,” he says before ending the call and leaving me feeling no closer to processing the many emotions running through me today.
***
Half past five, I pull up to the house as my hands shake on the steering wheel.
He’s in there. The boy that suffered the most from my mistakes.
I turn the car off and just sit there, running through what I’m going to say to him, how I’m going to get him to talk to me without revealing who I am.
Lydia said that today was a decent day for him, so at least I know I’m not walking in to face a total pre-teen attitude. But maybe if he hated me, it would make me feel better about what I did.
I grab the bag on my seat, full of a few items I brought just in case, and then lock my car behind me as I cross the street. When I arrive at the door, I take notice of the chipped wood, the eaves that need a fresh coat of paint, and the weeds growing in the planters outside. The house has seen better days, which instantly makes me want to give Lydia more money. It’s not like I fucking need it.
I knock two times, hoping it was loud enough for her to hear me and I don’t have to knock again. My body hums with nerves as I wait for her to answer, but much to my shock, a young boy with shaggy blonde hair answers the door and the breath leaves my lungs the instant I see him.
My eyes veer down to meet him and I fight hard not to stare, not to stumble on the first words I say to him. But just seeing him in the flesh makes this all too real.
“Who are you?” he chimes in first, breaking me from my frozen state as I see Lydia come around the corner and my eyes veer up to hers. And the sight of her has me blinking back my emotions again. Exhaustion is present on her features, but more mental exhaustion than anything. She looks different than I remember, but also the same—although I was in such a warped state of mind the last time I saw her that it’s hard to sa
y exactly what I remember.
“Hi,” I finally croak out as Lydia steps up behind Nolan, pressing her hand on his shoulder.
“Nolan, this is Wes. He came here to see us today.”
“Why?” Nolan asks, his face scrunching up with confusion.
“I, uh—” I stumble before clearing my throat and finding my resolve. “I’ve been in contact with your mom and there is something I wanted to discuss with you. Can I come in?”
His eyes narrow further into two slits before he moves out of the way and gives me enough room to enter the house—just a sliver of space and hope that I’m headed in the right direction.
Chapter 15
Shayla
It’s the first day of class and the normal jitters are there. But there’s also something else in my life now that’s making my body feel like electricity is running through my veins.
Wes.
Wes’s smile. Wes’s hands. Wes’s cock. Wes’s heart.
I’m on the most euphoric high on my life after this weekend on the yacht, and I swear, nothing is going to bring me down today.
I hit the shore earlier than normal since I had a hard time sleeping and push myself to go for an extra mile today on my run to burn off this energy. The crisp ocean air hits my face and my legs pump so effortlessly that I feel like I’m flying.
One of my favorite parts of running on the beach is watching how the color of the water changes as the sun moves higher in the sky. There’s parts that appear white depending on the angle, and then within seconds you’re looking at a deep ocean blue. Stay out late enough and a turquoise hue will transform. It’s truly stunning.
A woman and her golden retriever pass me, and I find myself smiling back at the dog as he travels alongside his owner, his tongue flopping out of the side of his mouth is pure joy. For a moment, I recall that being transfixed by a dog is exactly how I ended up running straight into Wes, and then my thoughts veer back to him instantaneously.
Is this what dating feels like? The addictive feeling of getting to know someone new and experiencing firsts with them? The constant rush of adrenaline that courses through you when your brain shifts to thoughts of them? The difficult task of concentrating on anything else because you’re so enamored and you can’t wait to see the other person again?
