Craving Sugar

by Elena M. Reyes

  “She has to hate me.” Moreover, those words alone caused my body to ache. Churned my gut.

  What had I done?

  Why had she paid for the brunt of my fury?

  Again, I was assaulted by images of us. The dinner with James and his wife…the admiration I felt while listening to her talk with absolute passion about helping kids with disabilities. Watched how she wrapped them around her finger by just being her. No pretenses.

  Next, came the night she slept at her apartment and the manic need that pushed me to seek her out. The look in her eyes when she opened the door and saw me there. How I took her. The savagery of our bodies coming together as one.

  Her, in that sinful dressed walking downstairs to me the night of the gala. My constant need to be close to her. Amber’s words and then my own revelation as I came deep inside her pussy.

  I fell for her. Had no fighting chance against her ensnarement.

  Beau Carter had stolen my heart, and I didn’t want it back.

  “Fuck me, I love her.” A small smile formed on my lips, but fell just as quick. “She was never going to forgive me for what I said. For calling her a whore and treating her like one.”

  I’d lost her before I ever had the chance to love her.

  No, I refused to believe that.

  Hendrix motherfucking Parker made shit happen every day, and this would be no different. Had to be.

  Rushing upstairs, I washed my face and changed clothes. Had my keys in hand and was inside my truck, before I could second guess myself—was heading toward the bridge back to Miami with my mind made up.

  Just had one stop to make before I could face my nymph.

  “Sorry it’s taken me so long to come back, babe.” Brushing the leaves from around her headstone, I washed the structure of dirt before placing her favorite flowers in the small vase. A dozen roses in pink with a purple ribbon tying them together. “Wasn’t trying to be a dick and make you wait.”

  Around me a few families were doing the same. Sitting on the well-maintained lawn and talking. Whispering to those they loved and lost. Trying to cope with that hole that would never heal.

  “It’s been hard, Ophelia. So fucking hard to accept that you are no longer here…that I’ll never hear your nasal laughter again.” Looking up at the sky, I let out a long sigh. “Patience had never been your forte, and I never asked you to stay that night either. We messed up. Along the way we forgot to be friends…what mattered most; to be happy.”

  The wind around me picked up, just a subtle breeze. I felt her presence all around me, and for the first time since her death, I could breathe without guilt. Without the burden of it all being my fault.

  Sitting on my knees, I rested my forehead against the plaque that now bore her name. “I’m so sorry, babe. Sorry that you felt the need to run away from me. Sorry that you never got to explore the love you found in another man’s arms.” A tear fell from my eye and rolled onto the headstone. “Also, I need you to know that I forgive you. That no matter where life takes me, a piece of my heart will always belong to you. Rest in peace, Ophelia.”

  Closing my eyes, I pressed my lips against the marble and stood. I walked away and back to my car feeling lighter than I had in a long time.

  Not that life would be simple. Nothing ever was, but the last stop on my way to Beau had to be done. Just hoped they’d hear me out before tossing me out on my ass.

  The house wasn’t far from the cemetery, about a twenty-minute drive in the midday traffic.

  A quaint house sat in the middle of the cul-de-sac that stood out from the others with its lime green door. Out on the lawn, a man stood looking up at his roof with a puzzled expression. Trying to figure out what was wrong.

  Her father.

  At the sound of my truck’s door closing, he turned around and faced me. Gave me a once over before tilting his head in the direction of his roof once more.

  “Know how to fix a leak, Mr. Parker?”

  “How do…”

  “I was expecting you,” he stated bluntly, eyes hard and with a bit of anger in them. “That, and your truck has the company’s logo on it.”

  “Ahhh.”

  “So, do you?”

  “Yeah, shouldn’t take more than an hour if you know where the patch needs to go and there’s no substantial damage.”

  “Good.” With that, he walked away and toward a ladder leaning on the right side of the house. Up he went and then waited, arms crossed over his chest. “I suggest you get up here and give me a hand. You have a lot of explaining to do.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  Beau

  What the hell?

  Outside my window, someone was dying a tragic death. The wail of a wounded animal was more soothing than the crap that was coming through my thankfully closed window. I could only imagine how grotesque the sound would be if it were open.

  “Shut up!” I yelled out into my empty bedroom, pissed that I was being pulled from my slumber. I’d been restless for days, ever since I walked out on Hendrix and took the Uber home. He was all I could think about.

  Was he okay?

  What triggered him?

  Did I really mean so little?

  Sure, he had called me these last few days trying to get a hold of me, but I deleted each voice or text, without finding out what each contained. My heart couldn’t take his berating. His demand of me to come back to his apartment as if nothing ever happened.

  Louder, the man sung his words of love and lost. Of finding his way back home, and I swear on all that’s holy that I wanted to punch the love-sick fool.

  Better yet, how could I even hear this from my floor?

  Kneeling on the bed, I wiped my eyes and tried to focus. Opened the curtain and looked below.

  Then fell back.

  “No.” Again, I pulled the corner of my drapes away from the window and came eyes to smirk with Hendrix. He was the one making all this ruckus? “The hell?”

  I stepped back and got to my feet. Rushed out of the room and out the front door, a whistle from my neighbor stopping me in my tracks.

  “Do you always leave your home at this time every day in so little?” he asked, leering. Jerk had moved in two months ago and hit on anything with a pulse. Moreover, because I was a good person, I flipped him off and walked backwards into my apartment, causing him to laugh.

  He’d gotten enough of a view; my ass cheeks were not meant for him.

  Pursing my lips, I rushed back to the window, and there he still stood, a Beats speaker in his hand while he continued to sing.

  It was sweet in a horrific way. But why is he singing to his whore?

  No longer finding it cute, I pulled on some cutoffs and left my tank on sans bra. Wouldn’t be the first time he got a look at the girls, but it would be his last.

  I’d had time to think, and we were better off this way. On our own. Moving on.

  A man that doesn’t respect me wasn’t worthy of my devotion, and he would hear that as soon as I found my other shoe. Kneeling by the bed, I peeked under and found my flip fops instead. They’d work.

  Had the second one on when there was a knock at my door.

  “Coming!” Who now? Why was everyone hell-bent on forcing me to be social so early? So, I did what anyone else in my frustrated position would do; I pulled the door open without looking to see who was on the other side. “Not interested. Have something to attend to. Go away.”

  “I’ll wait, if you don’t mind.” His voice, Jesus Christ, I’d missed the sound. My eyes snapped up to meet his, and what I saw there made my chest painfully clench. Sad, tired orbs stared into me as if he were looking at heaven. As if he’d found a miracle in the desert.

  He ate me alive with his intense gaze, eying me from head to toe. Licked his lips, and my nipples tightened against the thin cotton of my tank.

  “No.” I slammed the door in his face.

  Not ready to see—deal with his emotions.

  He knocked again, harder, with a hint of desp
eration. “Please, nymph. Hear me out.”

  “Can’t.”

  “Twenty minutes, and I’ll leave. Promise.”

  Opening the door just a smidge, I looked at him through the crack. “Not a minute more, Hendrix. Swear it.”

  “Scout’s honor.” He made a hand gesture, and I raised a brow. Called a silent bullshit. “Okay, so I was never a boy scout, but I read the manual once. That should count for something…yes?”

  “Get in here.”

  “Thank you.” Once inside, he walked into my small living room and took a seat on the only couch. If he thought for one minute I’d sit next to him, he was dead wrong, and I made a show of that when I brought over a chair from my dinette set. “Fair enough.”

  “You have no choice in the matter. Count your blessings that I even let you in.”

  “Noted.” Hendrix sat back, head resting on the couch. His shirt rose just a tiny bit, exposing his toned abdomen, and I bit my lip. Happy he didn’t get to see the effect he still had on me. “I’m going to talk, and I ask that you keep your questions for the end. Let me get a few things off my chest before you say your piece. Can you do that for me?”

  Nodding, I waved him on. “Floor’s yours.”

  “Thank you, Beau. You’re being kinder than I deserve.”

  “Have you had coffee yet?” Because I’d be damned if I went through this conversation sober or devoid of caffeine.

  “Not yet.”

  “Then give me a few minutes,” I said and stood. He made a move to protest or follow, but my glare seemed to keep him in place. “I can’t do this with you without something to give me comfort.”

  “Understood. I’ll be here waiting.”

  Once in the kitchen, I place my hand on the counter and breathed in deep. Counted to ten before shaking off the nerves. It was just Hendrix, and I owed him nothing. He’d say what he came to say and leave. I can do this.

  Pressing the start on my already loaded machine, I drummed my fingernails on the counter, trying to figure out why he’d even bother.

  “Need help?” he called out from the other room, making me jump.

  “Got it. I’m good.” The cup I used for him made me laugh. Was a gag gift from Ruby when we were friends, but today, it’d serve its purpose. A giant donkey sat in the middle of the mug with the words kiss my right over it.

  Mugs in hand, I walked back over and handed him his with a smile.

  He took one look and laughed. A deep and loud sound—carefree. “Fitting, and I would in a heartbeat. No questions asked.”

  “Talk,” I said, taking a sip from my own mug. “Clock is ticking, grouch.”

  “Love that you call me that, you know. For the first time, something I loathed, brought me joy. Made me feel important to you.”

  “You were.” Liar. But he didn’t need to know that.

  “I deserve that and so much more.” Hendrix grimaced while I tried to keep my expression as neutral as possible. “And while what I’m going to say doesn’t change what occured…I hope you find answers at the very least.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m going to start off by saying that I am sorry, Beau. What happened a few days ago was all me, never you.” He placed his cup down on the coffee table and sat forward, his arms hanging between his legs. “Several years back, my wife died in a head-on collision on a night where we argued like never before. She’d been having an affair behind my back, had asked me for a divorce, and I’d demanded time. Not because we could fix things, but because being a man in my position, I wanted to make things as painless for both of us as possible.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” Felt like the right things to say, but tasted like ash. Made me feel like a horrible person for hating a woman who’d died and all because she had the parts of him I’d love to own.

  “Thank you, but it’s not needed.” At my perplexed look, he smiled. “You’re always more concerned with the way others feel than your own emotions. Selfless, even when trying to be selfish.”

  “You lost someone you love, and that’s never easy.”

  “No, it’s not.” Again, those hazel eyes bore into my own, and I had to look away. “We weren’t happy for a long time. Had fought over the divorce for months, when she decided to parade her new love around town and word got out. I was angry, hurt…felt betrayed by my best friend. Had she given me another week, the paperwork would’ve been finalized, and she’d be alive. For years, I’ve blamed myself, Beau. Her blood was on my hands.”

  “But it’s not, Hendrix. No one can predict a tragedy like that.” Maybe it was the unshed tears in his eyes or the words he’d spoken, but I went to him. Sat beside him and held his hand. “We are born to die—it’s a sad part of life.”

  “Trust me, I see that now. Makes you face the fact that we are here today and gone tomorrow.”

  “I’m glad you are finding closure.”

  “It’s all because of you, sweet girl.” He brought my hand up to his lips and kissed my knuckle. “It takes you hitting rock bottom to realize that you’re an asshole. That you’ve lost the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

  I gasped. “Hendrix, I—”

  “You were never a whore, Beau. You were never beneath me. Matter of fact, you make me feel three feet tall with your patience and good heart. If anything, I’m not worthy of you.” That hole in my chest felt less open, his words soothing the pain. Not completely healed, but helped me feel as though I mattered. Was worth more than what was between my thighs.

  “Thank you. I needed to hear that from you.” I gave him a watery smile, my eyes clouded by the tears I was fighting hard to keep at bay.

  Without releasing my hand, he knelt between my legs. “You are without a doubt stubborn, argumentative…the most beautiful soul I’ve ever met. With you, I learned to laugh again and find pleasure in the little things. Nymph, you make me happy. Feel alive.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” Jesus, please let me wake up if this is a dream. Amen.

  “Beau, I love you. Please tell me that I haven’t lost you yet?”

  “Need time to think,” I blurted out, and his shoulders fell. Made me feel like shit, but dammit, I needed to sort out my head. He stood then and nodded, walked toward the door without another word, and I panicked, following him to the middle of my entryway. “I said time, not to get out! You jerk. Don’t you realize that I love you too? That all I need is time to wrap my head around the last few days?”

  “What did you just say?” He’d paused with one hand on the doorknob. “Say it again.”

  “Look at me.” I waited until he did to say the words that would change everything. Once I admitted this, there would be no going back. It was real. “Hendrix, I do love you.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Maybe another day; I’m exhausted.” It did the trick, and he laughed. Walked back to me and wrapped me in his arms. Held on tight, as if afraid I’d disappear from his line of sight.

  “I’m so sorry for putting you through all this, nymph. I’ll never hurt you again.”

  “Want that in writing.”

  “Done.”

  A yawn escaped, my exhaustion hitting me full force. “Can I ask for more after a nap? Haven’t slept well for days.” On my next breath, I was being carried toward my bed. Laid down while he covered me and then kissed my forehead. “Tucking me in will be my new request,” I mumbled sleepily.

  “Whatever you want, nymph.” A chuckle, then another kiss. This one on my cheek. “I’ll be on the couch.”

  I reached out to stop him from leaving, my eyes feeling heavier. “Stay.”

  “Are you sure?” Trepidation mixed with hope colored his tone.

  “No, but I sleep better when you are with me.”

  “Thank God,” Hendrix breathed out, and I snorted. Moving me over a bit, he slid beneath the covers and pulled me back against his chest, not an inch of space between us while he nuzzled the back of my neck.

  “By the way, I’m going to need one m
ore thing from you…”

  “Hit me.”

  “Be my date for my sister’s wedding.”

  EPILOGUE

  Six months later…

  “May I present to you the new Mr. and Mrs. Ivan Scott,” the preacher announced, and everyone stood up to clap, watching as the happy couple and my favorite kiddo walked down the aisle as a new family. It was a thing of beauty, and we were blessed to welcome him into the family.

  In the six months that followed, he’d been a godsend. Calmed Gloria down. Made her happy. Truly happy for the first time in her life.

  She’d always loved Aubrey, but was missing something. Made her search for it in all the wrong places. Now I knew why; he was her person.

  Completed her.

  The cool breeze off the water swept through the small ceremony, causing a few to grumble about their hair. Not me. I welcomed the reprieve from the warm weather in the middle of winter.

  We just didn’t do that holiday down here. Five days of fifty-degree weather, and then we were back to scorching. Was a blessing and curse.

  Everyone else walked inside and toward Hendrix’s deck to await the next part of the festivities. Stubborn grouch had all but demanded that we use his place for the ceremony and party afterwards.

  Everyone loved him, while I still fought to correct his grouchy ways. Which was most days. The man was an ass, but now, it was never toward me.

  “Thought I’d catch you out here, kiddo,” Mom said, pulling me away from my thoughts. I looked over and she was wrapped up like a burrito, a pashmina covering most of her upper torso. “Come inside, the temperature’s dropping.”

  Behind us, I could hear the hired crew putting the final additions inside the tent Hendrix and I donated toward the wedding. Our gift. One large enclosed space that comfortably sat sixty guests and would keep us warm with space heaters throughout while they served dinner.

  Decorated in the wedding party’s colors of white and a sky blue, the space was cozy and elegant. Beachy with a bit of romance, like Gloria wanted.