“Are you really staying for breakfast?” she asked with a hopeful tone.
He exhaled a long breath. “I wish I could, but I should get back. I don’t want to make any waves, not when we’re so close.”
“So…what happens now?”
His fingers strolled the inside of her thigh, a reassuring smile gracing his glossy lips. “Now, I get Megan to Clay’s house. As soon as she tells him, his resolve will crumble.” With two fingers, he turned her chin to face him. “But one thing is for sure, I’m never going to leave you again.”
She studied his face, not sure how to respond. After all, he was a married man. A married man she had just slept with, without actually sleeping.
They grew silent and leaned back, both staring at the ceiling. The room seemed to darken with his plans to leave, casting an oppressive gloom she struggled to ward off.
“How has work been going? Shaun told me you made partner.”
He laughed at the question and she couldn’t help but laugh with him. With everything that had happened, small talk felt good but not quite right.
“Who knows? I’m hardly ever there anymore.” Dean inhaled a somber breath of air and grew quiet, mulling something over in his head. “Whitmore wasn’t the happiest guy in the world when I suddenly dropped everything to go to Hawaii.”
“What did you tell him anyway?”
He rubbed his face and groaned, turning red just thinking about it. “I told him my uncle died in a motorcycle accident and I was the only one who could make the arrangements.”
Evy nearly laughed. “Do you think he believed you?”
The room got quiet again as Dean replayed the exchange in his head. Somebody walked by out in the hallway. “I hope so, otherwise I’m not a very good lawyer.”
“I’m sure he did.” Evy stared at the ceiling with him, his skin warming hers. “Remember when you broke that patio chair at his Labor Day party?”
Dean squeezed his eyes shut and hid behind his hand. “For the last time, it was broken before I got there.”
“Uh-huh, sure it was, pudgy,” she said, poking him in the ribcage and making him laugh. “Next time, maybe you should just stick to one burger.”
“Remember how close my head came to the edge of that fire pit on the way down? I almost died.”
A soft giggle floated from her lips. “The look on your face was so funny. I’ll never forget it.”
“I wish you would.” Dean returned his attention to the kitchen light above them, their heartbeats the only sound in the room. “Whole backyard came to a goddamn standstill,” he grumbled.
Evy covered her mouth and laughed harder. “And then you couldn’t get out of the broken chair.”
Dean tried to bite back a laugh and failed. They giggled until tears ran from the corners of their eyes.
Dean took a deep breath and released it, his smile dissolving in midair. “I’m sure he thinks I’m a loose cannon and regrets making me partner.”
“No, he doesn’t. You’re good at what you do.”
“Yeah, when I’m there. I feel guilty as hell.”
She stirred to her elbows. “We never got the chance to celebrate your promotion.”
He smiled, playing with her belly button. “I might be able to slip away for dinner tomorrow night.”
She shook her head violently. “Not dinner.”
His brow dipped.
Her hand slid down his abs, a grin stretching her flushed cheeks. “I can think of one way.”
An easy smile slid across his face. She screamed as he swept her up into his arms and whisked her into the bedroom. She shrieked again as he tossed her onto the bed. He stood over her, a determined look stealing the grin from his face. Evy grew quiet and scooted back against the headboard as he began to stiffen again. His hands curled into fists, the hint of a snarl pulling at his upper lip.
She spread her legs and narrowed her eyes. “Get in here.”
***
Dean pulled his Jeep into the double drive of the new house and put it in park, dreading the next part of his evening. He turned off the ignition and sat in silence, staring at the house with visions of Evy dancing in his head. Her smile, the way she smelled, those eyes. They all made an appearance while crickets serenaded him from the darkness blanketing the bushes and grass. The windows on this side of the house were dark, fanning the flames of hope that Megan had already gone to bed. She hadn’t even remembered to leave the porch light on, which was fine by him. The last thing he wanted was to make small talk with her, or any other kind of talk for that matter. He just wanted to go curl up on the couch with tonight’s memories as a blanket.
He took a deep breath of the warm night air and rolled up the electric windows, feeling like he was about to take a deep plunge into icy waters. Quietly, he shut the car door and stumbled up the drive, feeling drunk without having a single drop. He fumbled for his new key in the dark and gently unlocked the deadbolt with a soft click. There was no squeak when he opened the door and Dean was thankful for that. He stepped inside the foyer and his heart palpitated with a sudden burst of adrenaline shooting through his veins.
Megan stood at the end of the hallway leading into the kitchen, where the light from a modern chandelier turned her into a darkened figure. Her silhouette didn’t move. Neither did her shadow stretching to his feet. Dean shut the door and locked it, ignoring the way his heart was pounding against his ribcage. He turned back around, squinting down the hall, and held his hands out. “What?”
A moment of lingering silence answered him, sucking the air from the room. “Where have you been?” came from the shadow, its face as dark as the feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“My place to get my stuff. Remember?”
The shadow slinked closer on the wood floor between them and raised its voice. “For this long?”
“I couldn’t find my briefcase. I must’ve left it work.”
The darkness didn’t reply.
“I hope I left it at work anyway,” he chuckled nervously, hitting a light switch that dispelled the gloomy specter in a flash, bringing Megan’s sharp glower into living color.
She stepped closer, her arms folded across a white cami that stopped just above a pair of lavender panties. Her icy glare sharpened to a razor’s edge. “Let me smell your dick.”
Dean stared at her, disbelief stealing his wind. A modest grandfather clock behind him ticked off each painstaking second with a light click. His ears rang in his head. “What?”
“Your dick,” she said louder, taking another step toward him. “Let me smell it.”
His face twisted in the harsh foyer light. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Megan stopped less than a foot away, sniffing at the air. “I can smell her on you,” she whispered coldly.
The whirling ceiling fan in the living room hummed softly, barely fanning the sweat sprouting across his forehead.
“You’re out of your mind,” he said, pushing past her and tromping into the kitchen.
“Then why are you sweating?” she countered, following his every step.
“Because I just unloaded a bunch of boxes into my car. Why do you think?”
Her bare feet slapped against the floor. Dean opened the fridge and she slammed it shut.
“You cheated on me with her, didn’t you?”
Deep grooves cut through Dean’s forehead. “What is your problem? Have you swapped places with your evil twin?”
“You did, didn’t you?”
His brow wrinkled like she had just told him the house was haunted. “We’re getting a divorce anyway, remember? So who the fuck cares what I do?”
“I do!” Her red painted toes curled against the kitchen tiles and gradually relaxed. She reeled in her volume, her eyes brimming with tears. “We can’t get a divorce after he just bought us this house, Dean. Not yet anyway. He’ll kill me.”
The color fled Dean’s face almost as fast as the images of Evy on the kitchen table. His mouth went dry.
“What’re you talking about?”
“We have to give him some time.”
“Time? How much time?”
She shrugged limply.
An uncomfortable silence whisked across the room, leaving Dean stunned and unnerved in its wake. “This house doesn’t change a thing!” He charged forward, his nostrils flaring. “We tell Clay tomorrow and that is final. Time is up!”
She backed away, fearfully shaking her head. “No.”
“Not next month or next week, tomorrow! This shit is over.”
Megan folded her arms and looked around the kitchen, surveying the stainless steel appliances, custom cabinets, and granite countertops. “I don’t know, Dean.”
His face fell into a state of total disrepair, his pulse bulging in his neck. Dean swallowed against the wrath burning inside of him and somehow managed to contain his volume. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
She went to the French doors leading to the deck out back. “Maybe this house is a sign that we should...”
“We should what?” he yelled, losing his control.
Megan glanced at him in the reflection of the paned glass, the house quiet enough to hear a pin drop. “Stick it out and see what happens.”
He opened his mouth to argue.
“At least for a little while. I mean, the baby, the house…maybe fate is trying to tell us something.”
The rage inside of him reached a crescendo, turning his face a blistering shade of crimson. His blood pounded thickly in his temples, the chandelier glistening off his slickened brow. “Not. A. Chance.”
She whirled on her heels and hit him with an icy glare that chilled him to the bone, her voice dropping to a guttural hiss. “Don’t you dare use one word sentences with me.”
Dean almost laughed, but the madness swimming in her eyes wouldn’t allow it. He paused to take a deep breath before speaking calmly. “I don’t care what happens anymore. With or without you, this ends tomorrow.”
Her blue eyes thinned. She swatted an angry hand around the nook. “Take a look around, Dean. This isn’t a toaster we got for a wedding present, you dick! We can’t just take it back to Target and exchange it for something else.”
He set his jaw, shooting daggers her direction. “I don’t give a fuck about this house. You and I and your scumbag father are done.” Dean’s chest rose and fell beneath his clingy shirt. “Do you understand me?”
“Dean, I just…”
“Do you understand me?” he roared loud enough for the neighbors to hear.
She shrank against the glass, nodding softly with her arms folded across her chest like she was cold, her eyes glistening with the light.
He turned to the fridge and hesitated before yanking the door back and grabbing a bottle of beer. Dean slammed the door shut and rifled through drawers for a bottle opener like a thief would crown jewels.
Megan exhaled a melancholy breath and stared at her feet. “If you want out of this, you’re going to need my help.”
“I thought I already had your help, Megan,” he sneered, snatching a Green Bay Packers bottle opener hiding inside a posh tray of brand new utensils.
She looked up, grinning coyly. “You do,” she said, resting her elbows on a short breakfast bar and exposing her cleavage to him. She glanced around the house, taking in the leather furniture in the living room, the modern paintings on the walls, and the table set just behind her. “I tell you what, you do me one favor and I’ll make all of this go away.”
With a cracking hiss, he popped the top on the beer and took an eager drink, extinguishing his cotton mouth. “And what’s that? Go get you a pair of pants? How about that for starters?” Dean threw the opener into the drawer with a loud clink and slammed it shut.
Megan straightened up and came around the counter to meet him in the kitchen, her lacey panties in full view. She placed a soft hand on his chest, the smell of perfume rolling from her in nauseating waves. “I will convince my father this whole thing was a mistake: you, me, the house, everything…”
“If?”
“I will tell him I can handle a baby on my own. I mean, I’ve got my mom and April. I’ll be fine.”
“If?” he repeated.
Her grin finally reached her earlobes as she slowly twisted back and forth, staring up into his eyes. “I will let you go, with no strings attached,” she said, pausing to wet her lips, “if you fuck me one more time.”
He blinked blankly, his ears ringing in the dumbfounded silence that followed. “What?”
She balled his shirt into her fist and pulled him close, her face twisting with anger. “You fuck me one more time - and I mean you fuck me good - and I’ll make everything go away, and you will be free to spend the rest of your life with Evy, or who the hell ever you want to spend the rest of your life with.”
Dean slowly shook his head, repulsion dripping from his forehead in gooey droplets. “Wow” he said flatly. “Just when I think you can’t get any crazier…”
She leaned up on her tippy-toes and kissed him on the lips, stifling the rest of his assessment. Dean recoiled and pushed her away, his face crinkling in horror.
“Enough!”
She leaned against the sink and laughed, wiping her upper lip. “Have it your way, Dean.”
His eyes bored holes through her as a cold realization settled in, sending shivers down his spine. She would never tell Clay, probably never was. He nodded to himself as it finally sank in. It was over. Mr. Ryder or not, it was time to hit the self-destruct button.
“Where do you hide your meds anyway? I never see anything lying around.”
Her eyebrows drew together.
“For your bipolar disorder.”
She dismissed him with a quick huff.
“You don’t have to be ashamed, Megan. It’s a common affliction.”
Her lips pressed together. “You don’t have to get mean, Dean. Don’t try covering up for what you’re really thinking.”
His brow folded.
“You think I haven’t noticed the way your eyes keep dropping to my panties?”
Dean hesitated before laughing out loud and stomping down another hallway to the bedrooms. Her bare feet slapped against the wood flooring as she followed him into the guest room.
She dove onto the made bed and stretched out, leaning on one elbow with a knee propped in the air. “Where are you going?” she asked in a sad voice.
He plopped a small carry-on onto the bed, making her bounce. “Where I belong.”
She made a pouty face and watched him throw some socks and underwear into the small suitcase. “I’m sorry.”
“I know you’re sorry. You might literally be the sorriest person I’ve ever met.”
Her eyes drooped around the corners.
“I take that back, you’re definitely the sorriest person I’ve ever met.”
“You don’t have to leave. You can stay on the couch and we’ll tell my father tomorrow.” Her eyebrows lifted with her spirits. “I promise.”
He went into the room’s half bath and came out with his deodorant and tooth paste. “What time?”
Megan nonchalantly massaged a breast while watching him pack. “Whenever’s good for you, but only if you don’t leave.”
Dean shook his head. “If I stay here, you’ll kill me in my sleep.”
“I’ll be good, I promise,” she said, her hand sliding inside her panties.
“If you still want to come with me, I’ll pick you up at ten,” he said, going back into the bathroom to grab his shaving cream and razor.
“In the morning?” Megan watched him continue packing, her fingers rubbing tiny circles beneath the slick fabric. “You sure you don’t want some more of this, just one more time?” she said softly, squirming a little on the bed, her legs wide open.
Dean stopped packing long enough to glance over. He turned away and shut his eyes. “Wow. Really?”
Megan giggled quietly, her eyes going soft, her hand working faster. “I know how much
you liked it before. Don’t lie. Remember that night, Dean? I think about it all the time.”
“You’re so fucking crazy,” he whispered, back to packing.
She pulled her panties to the side, exposing her wetness. “Come on, Dean, for old times’ sake. I know you want it.”
“I don’t want it,” he shouted, zipping the suitcase shut.
“Then why do you have a boner?”
“I don’t!”
She scrambled to her knees and shot across the bed. “Let me check,” she said, reaching for his groin.
He jumped back, pulling the carry-on with him as a shield, and stormed out of the room.
It didn’t take long for the sound of bare feet to start slapping down the hallway behind him. Dean threw open the front door and turned around on the porch. Megan skidded to a stop in the doorway, a pitiful look making her features slump.
“Text me if you change your mind and, miraculously, decide to do the right thing. If not, go fuck yourself.” Dean turned for the Jeep, the conversation beyond over.
Her mouth opened but nothing came out, her white cami ruffling with a light breeze. “He’ll never let you go!”
Dean stopped in the driveway, his heart beating out of rhythm. Crickets and locusts filled his head with their night song. He turned his head to the side and opened his mouth to tell her she was wrong, but knew it was a waste of time and climbed into the Jeep without looking back.
***
The number sixteen stared heavily back at him from the door but Dean already felt a hundred pounds lighter. No more hiding a relationship he wanted to tell the entire world about. His gaze lowered to the slight tan line where his wedding ring had been. He tried rubbing it away, wondering what Clay would do when he found out Dean had already left his daughter. He compressed his lips, cursing himself for going to Hawaii in the first place. What had he been thinking? Sugars flashed through his mind, jumping flames burning it to the ground. Shaun was next to whisk past, his family living in a small apartment with one bathroom on the seedy part of town. Evy opened the door with a frown claiming every inch of her face and Dean swiftly pushed inside and shut the door before taking her into his arms.
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