by Witt, L. A.
“Like I said, I’m sorry.” I gestured for a waitress. “Drinks are on me. I . . . hate that I wasted your time.”
“No, it’s all right.” Lydia smiled. Under the table, she put a hand on her husband’s leg, but she held eye contact with me. “It was still nice meeting you and talking to you, especially about Wolf’s Landing.” She glanced at him, and he nodded subtly, like they were having one of those telepathic exchanges that married couples do. Facing me again, she added, “And we can always meet up another time. Even if it’s just for drinks. Sometimes it takes a few meets before the chemistry really kicks in.”
I managed to smile. “I’ll keep that in mind. Could be fun.”
But I wasn’t holding my breath.
* * *
Once I’d made a polite escape from my date-slash-interview with Simon and Lydia, I drove to Port Angeles and found a club. One of those clubs that, according to the online reviews, was absolutely where people went to get drunk, get laid, or both. I wasn’t looking to get drunk, but this had to be a better way to get laid than the “date” I’d just come from.
Not surprisingly, the club was like every other sleazy meat market on the planet. Mostly dark except for disco lights and strobes. A whole lot of alcohol and not a lot of clothes. At least there was dancing. I could always go for some dancing.
Since I’d driven myself—and since my liver probably hadn’t forgiven me for Seattle—I stuck with one beer. It was enough to keep me cool in the stuffy room, chase off any lingering anxiety from the meet and greet, and hopefully all the liquid courage I’d need. Or liquid anesthesia.
No, not anesthesia. I was not here to numb any pain. I was here to prove to myself that the end of my relationship with Aaron wasn’t the end of the world, and that even if it hadn’t been the easiest choice, it had been the right one. I’d finally had a taste of everything I’d been missing in my twenties. I didn’t want to drop all that and settle back down! And I doubted he really wanted to settle down as a stepparent of three. So this was the right thing. It sucked, but it was right.
And, hell, maybe I’d meet an open-minded couple here and still end my night with a threesome. Though, at this point, I’d take some one-on-one action. Just . . . someone who wasn’t Aaron.
I finished my drink, took a deep breath, and headed out onto the dance floor. Dancing was fun. Always had been. But it wasn’t the same tonight.
I kept glancing at the sidelines, looking for that smoldering stare from the man who was a nod away from fucking me senseless. Maybe there were other people here who’d get naked with me.
Yeah, and how many of them would stick around when I drank a little too much, and either my dinner came up or my dick didn’t? How many of them would drag me out of this club and fuck me in the backseat of the car, not because they were that horny, but because they were that horny for me?
And how fucking many of them would even consider hanging up the bachelor life for a quieter one with an insecure single dad?
Stop being an idiot, and look for someone to dance with. You’re not here for love. You’re here to get laid.
I forced myself out of my funk and scanned the crowd. Oh yes, there were plenty of pretty faces here tonight. This wasn’t a gay bar, so I was cautious about even checking out a man. I’d learned the hard way in the past that a lingering look on a straight man’s ass could turn a night sour in a hurry.
There was a guy in a cowboy hat watching me from the corner. Gay? Bi? Straight and being vigilant because I was setting off his gaydar? Okay, I needed to keep an eye on him. If he was a homophobe, I didn’t want to lose sight of him. If he was queer and into me, I didn’t want to lose sight of him either.
Still keeping him on my radar, I focused on checking out the women on the dance floor. A beautiful brunette smiled at me a few times. She slipped out of sight for a second but then reappeared right in front of me.
Though it was way too loud to talk, body language covered the bases for now, and before I knew it, she was in my arms.
Well, this night had taken a sharp turn for the better. She was amazingly hot. The tight blue dress she was wearing didn’t leave a single curve to the imagination, and the way she rubbed up against me while we danced suggested she was absolutely after the same thing I was tonight.
Oh yeah, I’ll take this over a job interview any day.
She turned around and pressed back against me, and I slid my hands over her hips. Even over the sweat and God knew what else in the air, I could smell her faint perfume, and the thought of waking up tomorrow with that scent on me—
Did nothing for me.
The dark cloud threatened to come back, but I pushed it away and took in a long breath of her perfume. She ground her ass against my cock, probably looking for the telltale hard ridge that was not happening. She looked over her shoulder, winked, and rubbed against me again. Some women came to dance, but she was telegraphing hard that she was here for sex, and I—
Was exhausted just thinking about it.
I shook myself again and tried to focus on dancing with her, on getting both of us turned on enough for someone to suggest getting out of here. Or even dancing until last call and then getting out of here.
Not happening. So not happening.
And it wouldn’t have been any different with a man. If the cowboy in the corner made a move, grinding against me and letting me taste whatever he’d had to drink, I’d have been just as numb and disinterested. Just like I hadn’t been interested in Simon and Lydia. I’d written that off as being too businesslike and sterile, but I’d been wrong. At the end of the day, I wasn’t interested in anyone. Not men. Not women. Not a threesome. Not . . .
Anyone who isn’t Aaron.
Because it’s so, so much more than sex with him.
My stomach flipped.
“I’ll be honest,” Aaron’s voice echoed in my mind. “I’m not sure I want to share you.”
Another flip.
“I’ve done threesomes before,” he’d gone on. “I’ve done all kinds of things. But with you, I just want . . . you.”
That’s all I want too. There is no one I want in this room, or in this town, or anywhere except . . .
Oh shit. What did I do?
I couldn’t take it anymore. Whatever it was I needed tonight, I wasn’t going to find it here. And, besides, everywhere I went, Aaron was there like an incredibly persistent ghost. I couldn’t ignore him, and I . . .
Fuck me, but I didn’t want to. I’d come here to ignore him, forget him, and get over him, and all I wanted to do was be with him.
I bowed out of dancing as politely as I could. She was obviously disappointed, but quickly set her sights on another guy. One who sure would’ve caught my attention if I’d been in the mood tonight.
With the brunette happily dancing with someone else, I walked out of the club and didn’t look back. In my car, I closed my eyes and let my head fall against the seat.
Breaking up with Aaron had seemed like the thing to do in the moment, but now it seemed like it ranked pretty high on the things Shane has done to mess up his life scale. A little too fucking late, I realized I hadn’t just broken up with a guy who wanted different things. No, I’d set fire to the most amazing thing that had come my way in a long time. Even Leo and I hadn’t had that kind of connection in the beginning. It wasn’t just sex, either. No wonder I’d panicked on that second date and damn near nuked everything by trying to make it more than it was—because it was more. It was like deep down I’d realized I’d found someone worth holding on to, and in my panic, I’d almost ruined everything. Somehow, he’d even stuck around after I’d fumbled.
And now Aaron was gone because I’d been too stupid to see that my subconscious had been right from day one. Because a little taste of long-overdue recklessness had made me forget how much I wanted exactly what Aaron was now trying to give me.
My eyes stung, and I squeezed them shut as reality and guilt and self-loathing crashed over me. It wasn’t the wild
recklessness that I needed. It was the wild recklessness with him. It was the sex with him. The cuddling in front of movies with him. All the fantasies of tearing off his mechanic’s coveralls or his firefighter uniform. Dashing into the garage for five minutes on my way to work or disappearing from the set to steal a quick make out in the parking lot.
The sting worsened. My heart sank. Partying was fine and good, but it wasn’t what I was missing now. It was knowing that if we did go out partying, and we partied too hard, he’d be there to help my alcohol-poisoned ass get safely into bed, and he’d still be there in the morning until I was good and ready to move. It was changing plans from a wild weekend to something more low-key, and not caring because I was happy to be with him. It was watching him turn from grizzled badass to adorable marshmallow when one of his pets looked at him.
I didn’t miss doing everything I hadn’t been able to do in my twenties. I missed the man who’d been worth waiting my whole fucking life to find.
I made a huge mistake.
A huge fucking mistake that I need to fix or I’m going to regret it for the rest of my life.
Assuming I could fix it.
Well, there was only one way to find out if this was repairable, and feeling sorry for myself in a dance club parking lot wasn’t it. So, I wiped my eyes until I could see clearly enough to text him.
Can we talk?
Chapter 24
Aaron
Sitting at my desk in the shop, I read Shane’s text for the hundredth time and still couldn’t make heads or tails of it. About the only thing I could get from it was that he had some serious brass balls.
You want to talk? Now? After you bailed on me for wanting what you put on the table on our second goddamned date?
After I’d been twisting in the wind for days, wondering what the hell I’d done wrong to send him from jumping the relationship gun to running like hell, now he wanted to talk?
Fuck you. Jesus.
I shoved the phone into the pocket of my coveralls. I’d respond to him later. Maybe. No guarantees. Should’ve deleted him in the beginning when I hadn’t been quite so deeply—stupidly—invested in him.
“You look like you need a day off.” Reese’s voice startled me.
I glanced at her as she stepped into my office doorway. “Yeah, I probably do.”
She watched me for a few seconds. “Okay. Aaron.” She sat on the edge of my desk and folded her hands on top of her thigh. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
She sighed heavily. “We really going to play this game when you’ve been depressed for a week?”
I glared up at her. “Or maybe you could take the hint that I don’t want to talk about it?”
She didn’t budge, and she looked right back down at me. “I’ll bet you don’t want to. But you sure as shit look like you need to.”
Lowering my gaze, I sighed, and I wanted to tell her to get out so I could do some paperwork we both knew I wouldn’t actually do. I didn’t have the energy to send her packing any more than I had the energy to figure out what a work order was, never mind what I needed to do with it.
“Fine.” I rubbed my eyes with my thumb and forefinger, then dropped my arm onto the desk. “So, Shane dumped me.”
“I figured as much.” Her brow pinched with sympathy. “What happened?”
“Apparently I wanted more than he was willing to give.”
She blinked. “Come again?”
I sighed. “I . . . told him I . . . Look, it doesn’t matter.” I leaned back, the chair squealing on its aging hinge. “But, Jesus, I mean, the third time I met him, he was talking about dropping the casual shit and going straight into a relationship. Then when I tell him that’s exactly what I want to do, suddenly he’s running for the hills.”
“Well, you’re usually the one who runs when things get too serious.” She tilted her head. “What goes through your mind when you do?”
I chewed my lip, staring at the wall instead of her. “Usually that ‘Hey, this is fun, but I don’t want to be chained to it.’” I sighed. “Which makes me sound like a dick now that I say it out loud.”
“Not really.” She rested her hand on the table and leaned over it, closing some of the distance between us. “You know what you want and what you don’t want. And . . . it sounds like he does too.”
I flinched. “Yeah, I know. And the thing is, I’d completely understand him if he hadn’t tried to turn this into a relationship in the beginning.” Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair. “Things have changed since then and made me want to be with him, but something’s done the exact opposite for him.” I met her gaze. “I suggested the same damn thing he did, and he couldn’t get out the door fast enough.”
Reese whistled, shaking her head. “Wow. I don’t even know what to tell you.”
“Can’t imagine there’s much anyone can say.”
“Probably not.” Her eyes flicked toward the twenty on the corkboard. “Well, um . . .” She stood and unpinned the bill. “Why don’t I go get us some lunch?”
I wasn’t hungry, but I nodded anyway. “Thanks.”
She watched me for a second, and I hoped to God she wasn’t planning on saying anything to try to make me feel better. It wasn’t going to happen.
She didn’t, though, and left with the twenty that had been there since I’d started seeing Shane. At least it would be useful for something now.
I wiped a hand over my face again. The more I thought about all this, the more pissed off I was. All this time, I’d thought we were getting closer, and damn if we hadn’t gotten a hell of a lot closer than I’d even wanted us to. Then I let my guard down, and I went there, and he . . .
Closing my eyes, I let out a long breath. Every time I relived that moment when I’d realized he was leaving, another heavy layer of depression piled on top of my shoulders. It had been years since I’d let myself feel like that for someone. Even longer since I’d been willing to play that card before they did. I’d been rejected before, but hell if I could remember it ever hurting this bad.
And now he wanted to talk.
And he was waiting for my answer.
Fuck. Why was there any debate?
Cursing under my breath, I took my phone out of my pocket, and I finally replied to his text:
I’d rather not.
* * *
I couldn’t fucking sleep. I was restless enough Snowball got tired of it and left, and even Jack kept getting up and moving. The only one who didn’t budge was Oreo, who had taken over the pillow that was conspicuously not being used by Shane right now.
Goddamn it. I groaned into the darkness. Get out of my head, for God’s sake.
Since I wasn’t sleeping, I picked up my phone. Better than staring at the ceiling. Except I couldn’t even cope with scrolling through Grindr. Thirty seconds on the app, and I was depressed and exhausted. Hook up with someone? Not tonight.
Besides, then you’ll fall for him like an idiot and wind up like this all over again.
I put my phone aside. Damn near threw it aside. Fuck it, I wasn’t going to lie here and twitch all night.
I got up as carefully as I could without dislodging the animals more than I had to. Jack grunted in his sleep. Oreo didn’t care. Snowball was long gone.
For lack of anything better to do, I shuffled into the kitchen to get a drink. As I stood there in the dark, glass of water in hand, I was tempted to call up the firehouse and see if they needed another body tonight. Maybe someone wanted to bust out early and go home while I took their place.
Except then I’d be bored and restless at the firehouse instead of my own place. At least here I had my animals for company, and I could leave if I needed to.
Leave? And go where?
Hell, I could go drive around somewhere. Drive circles around Bluewater Bay until my eyelids started getting heavy. Drive down the coast until the sun started coming up. Drive until Grindr said someone was online, nearby, and looking for a hookup.<
br />
I rubbed the back of my neck and sighed. The thought of hooking up with anyone exhausted me more than an all-night drive ever would.
No matter what idea I came up with, the end result was the same—there was no running off and escaping this. Which meant I had to deal with it somehow.
I’d been dumped plenty of times, and I’d dumped guys myself. It was never easy even when it was necessary, but there was usually at least some sense of relief. When one of us broke it off, the relationship had nearly always deteriorated enough that it was long past time to let it go.
Even the shock breakups hadn’t cut quite to the core like this.
The really fucked-up thing was that it didn’t matter how pissed I was or how much thinking about him hurt—I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Or about what he might have to say and what might happen if I stopped and heard him out. Maybe we could come back from this.
The more I thought about it, the angrier it made me. I hated that I even wanted him back when he’d been so quick to call time.
Except . . . there was no harm in talking. I’d hear him out. That didn’t mean—
Who are you kidding? It absolutely means you’ll take him back.
Except . . . no. No, I wouldn’t. There was plenty of amazing sex to be had that didn’t involve Shane. He wasn’t the first man I’d fallen for, and chances were he wouldn’t be the last. I’d gotten over the others. I’d get over him. I’d get over the next one.
Right?
Then why did I want so badly to text him back and open the door to talk?
Fuck it. Why not? If I didn’t, I’d wonder forever what could have happened. At least this way, I’d know.
Rather than be an asshole and text him at three in the morning, I waited until I knew he’d already be up with his kids. I typed out a message and stared at it for a good two minutes before I finally hit Send.
Ok. Let’s talk.
Chapter 25
