by Kacey Shea
My eyes snap open, the incessant vibration of my phone rattling against the bedside table. I glance to the other side of the bed, but Chase isn’t there. The sun is bright through the veil of curtains covering the windows. I reach for my phone. The time reads a quarter after noon, but that’s not what has my pulse racing. Shit. The string of texts from Jill and Callie goes back hours and borders on obsessive. There’s a few missed calls too.
Jill: Oh my God! Please answer us so we know you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere!
Callie: Seriously, Alicia, we’re calling the police soon.
Jill: Maybe she doesn’t want to hang out with us next weekend.
Jill: She found better friends.
Callie: Shut your face! We’re the best she’s ever had.
Callie: Right?
Callie: Alicia????
“Damn it,” I growl and type out a quick reply before they give themselves a heart attack.
Me: I WAS SLEEPING. Happy now?
Jill: SHE’S ALIVE!
Callie: Oh, thank goodness. I was worried.
Me: I couldn’t tell.
Jill: LOL
Callie: Your schedule better be clear next weekend. We want you all to ourselves!
Jill: You have to fill us in on everything!
Everything. Does she mean Chase? Does she know or am I being paranoid? He wouldn’t tell his brother about us. Would he? I hate that I can’t answer that question.
“Morning,” Chase says, making me jump. I didn’t even notice him come in. He’s dressed in athletic wear, his body slick with sweat, probably back from running. “You feeling okay?”
“Fine.” I mask my inner anxiety with a forced smile and drop my phone as if it’s a hot potato. I shove it beneath the covers. “I can’t believe I slept until noon. Sorry, I didn’t mean to spend all day in your bed again.” My stomach twists with a foreboding sense of dread. Next week Callie and Jill will be here, in Kitty Hawk. My past and present are about to collide. I think I might be sick.
He walks over and opens a few of the curtains, basking the room in daylight. “I really don’t mind.” He laughs, but his smile evaporates when I don’t reply. “Alicia. Is everything okay?”
“I think maybe this is too much.” Panic claws at my chest. My phone vibrates with another incoming text. I can’t be with Chase. I can’t tell my friends about this. “Maybe we moved too fast.” My chest is tight, each breath harder to inhale.
“Hey, breathe.” He sits on the mattress and reaches out to touch my knee. “What’s got you freaked out?” He lifts my chin so our gazes lock. “Tell me the truth. I can handle it.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready for more.” I reach for the edge of the blanket, twisting the fabric to keep me from running or crying, or both. “I’m still figuring myself out and you’re not even a month into your sobriety. We could be a disaster. This, this could set both of us back.”
“This.”
We haven’t talked about what this is. I don’t think either of us planned falling into bed this weekend. Still. My anxiety skyrockets at the idea of setting back my progress or hampering his. What the fuck were we thinking?
“Alicia. We’re both adults. This wasn’t some drunken night. We made the decision fully aware of what we were doing.” His voice is calm and steady, anchoring me like a boat lost in a storming sea. “I don’t regret this, but if you do?”
“No.” I shake my head, glancing down at my phone. “It’s not that.”
“Then, what is it? You can tell me anything. Give me the hard truth.”
“I don’t want to be your reason for another rock bottom. I don’t want you to be mine.”
He exhales a long breath. “That won’t happen.”
I want to believe him, I do. But addiction is bigger than us. “How can you be so sure?”
“Trust me.” He laces his fingers with mine.
“I’m scared.” I’m scared of fucking this up. I’m scared of trusting him. Any man, really. I don’t have the best track record. What if I’m somehow repeating old habits? Just because I’m sober this time doesn’t make me anymore aware.
“Remember what you told me? One day, one hour, one minute if that’s what it takes? Let’s do that. Let’s take things day by day, and if either of us feels like it’s not good, or threatening our recovery, then we part ways. No hurt feelings.”
“You make it sound so easy.” I squeeze his hand and exhale the anxiety building in my chest.
“It’s not, and I know that, but as scared as you are of this thing between us causing harm . . . I’m more scared of walking away from something real. Something good.”
We are good together. It’s the truth, even if it does catch me by surprise. Of all the people in my world, I never thought I’d open myself up to Chase. “You won’t hate me if this ends?” No, that’s wrong. My head is already confusing what we are. I clear my throat and meet his gaze. We have an expiration date. We always have. It’s not an if, but when. “When this ends.”
“I could never hate you. And I will always cherish this summer. Whatever moments you give me.” He seals his promise with a kiss, and I give him another moment, another thread of my heart. We make love, sensual and slow, but the heat of his kiss, the thrusts of hips, and the whispers of pleasure as he adores my body is hotter than ever. If I keep giving him these moments, I’m not sure what I’ll have left when the summer ends.
Not that it makes me stop.
God, help us both.
49
Chase
The next few days, Alicia and I fall into a rhythm. AA meetings, work, sex, kittens, more sex. We keep our relationship hidden at work, but at the beach house anything is game. I have no complaints. It’s more than I ever expected. But as the week progresses, it feels as if there’s a storm brewing on the horizon. That something bad is about to fuck it all up, and my biggest fear is that it’ll be me.
Maybe it’s because I’m not comfortable with being happy. Each time I’ve had something good in my life, it’s been ripped away. Or that I’m somehow cursed or forever damaged. Even my own mother didn’t get more than a few hours with me in her arms before an infection took her away.
In part, I realize that’s my addiction talking. The dormant beast inside me wants me to self-sabotage. He wants a goddamn drink. But I refuse to give in to that sordid thinking, instead making it my life’s mission to only fuel the positive thoughts in my brain. To chase what’s worth having.
Which is why I’m going to my first therapy appointment tomorrow, no matter how much I’m dying to cancel it.
It’s the end of another day at the community center and I’m playing with the kittens in the little pen we set up in the teen room when Alicia leans into the door fame. “Hey. You ready?”
“Yeah, let me pack up these little dudes.” I reach for the carrier one of the teens donated to our kitten care project and put them inside. It’s a big upgrade from the shoe box. I actually love how much the teens have taken to caring for the little buggers. Makes rescuing them all the more rewarding. I also think it’ll help when it comes time to finding them homes.
Alicia and I chat on the car ride home. She fills me in on her day, telling me a few stories that leave us both in stiches. Her good mood puts my earlier worries at ease. Plus, we’re minutes from stripping each other naked. I love this escape we’ve created.
“I was gonna grill chicken and the squash for dinner. That sound good?” I ask as we pull into the driveway.
“Uh, yeah. I think I’ll manage.” She laughs, turning off the engine and opening the door. “You should know I will put anything you make in my mouth.”
I stare at her parted lips. Fuck. There’s something else I’d like to stick there. “It turns me on when you talk about my culinary skills.”
Her eyes darken with desire and for a split second I wonder if we’ll make it into the house. “Come on, lover boy.” She gets out of the car, shutting her door and waiting until I do the same. “Bring your kitt
ies inside and feed me something good.”
I chuckle at the double meaning, carrying the kittens and jogging up the steps to unlock the door. I swing it open and step to the side, sweeping my hand to indicate she should go first. “After you, milady.”
“Thank you, kind sir.” She does a little curtsey and flashes me a smile as she steps inside the house.
Before I follow her in, I lift the flap that covers the mailbox and reach inside, pulling out a letter. I walk to the laundry room to unload the kittens into their space, but before I set them down and toss the letter on the growing stack of mail, I realize the letter is addressed to me.
My heart pounds in my chest, the blood in my veins rushing in my ears.
The thick envelope addressed in my father’s handwriting.
Damn it. It’s the letter from Tiff. I know it is.
My gut clenches, the hunger from before souring with dread.
My hands shake as I debate what to do.
If I read it, I’ll be a mess. If I don’t, it’s all I’ll think about for the rest of the night.
Fuck it.
I rip open the seal, refusing to live in a state of fear. I’m not the same person. She doesn’t hold that power over me. Not anymore. Nothing contained inside this package will change the future, and the past is already done. I’m moving forward. I refuse to let shame rule my path.
Inside the envelope from my father is another sealed letter, this one from the prison where my stepsister is spending the next two decades for her attempt to murder Alicia’s friend, Callie. All because she was jealous of my attention. My hands shake as I rip open the flap, the paper slicing my finger with a prick of pain. “Shit.” I curse out loud, then press the pad of my finger to my lips to take away the sting.
Maybe this is a sign. The universe warning me to walk away.
Fucking hell.
I’m such a pussy.
Just read the damn letter.
Anxiety and annoyance grow with each passing second as I debate what to do. In the end, morbid curiosity wins and I pull out the folded white paper. My eyes race over the words, my breath catching while my entire body stills.
Dear Chase,
If you’re reading this, I hope it means you’ve forgiven me. I am sorry for the hurt I’ve caused. I never meant for you to get caught up in my mess. But I’m paying for my actions. I wish you wouldn’t punish me further by cutting me out. Haven’t we been through enough? Please, Chase. I need you. Please write soon. I need to know you are doing okay.
I will always love you. I always have. Everything I’ve done has been because of that love, and I only want us to be together. The way it used to be. The way we should have been. The way we were always meant to be—
“Chase?” Alicia calls from behind the door. It swings open with her entrance and I shove the letter into the pile of mail, ridding it from my hands as if it were an explosive ready to burst.
“Chase?” Alicia eyes the shelves behind me, then looks down to the kitten pen. Her brow furrows with confusion. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I lie, shoving my hands into my back pockets. My fingers wrap around my cell and I pull it out, giving a shrug. “Sorry, my brother called with a question from my old station.” I set my phone on the shelf next to the mail and drop to my knees, hating myself for not being able to speak the truth. “Sorry, little dudes,” I coo to the kittens. “Didn’t mean to make you wait.” I pop the lid off the box and help them out so they can wander around the pen on wobbly legs.
I try to root myself to this moment, focusing on the kittens, but my mind strays back to the letter—to my stepsister—and to years past in this house. Ones in which she manipulated me into activities that still fill me with shame. I was wrong, thinking she couldn’t hurt me from thousands of miles away. That her words wouldn’t dredge up the past. My hands shake, my chest tight with pain as memories I’d long boxed up and shelved come toppling over the peace I’ve found.
“Want me to watch the kittens? Or should I start dinner?”
My jaw clenches, my eyes slam shut. I need to get a fucking grip.
“Chase?”
I can’t bring myself to meet Alicia’s gaze. I’m worried she’ll see the truth.
“Just give me a minute.”
“You sure?”
I nod, pushing up to my full height. My hands ball into fists and it takes all my concentration to stay in this moment—the present. One inhalation. One long exhale. Repeat. With each breath my pulse slows until I almost feel normal.
“Hey,” Alicia whispers. The graze of her hand along my shoulder blade causes me to startle. She pulls back her hand. “Chase?” My name is a question on her lips. I hate the worry I put there, but the last thing I need right now is to delve deeper into a past I’d rather forget. I need to get out of my own head. I need to submerge myself in something good.
I reach for Alicia. My hands wrap around her body and I yank her to my solid form. My lips crash to hers with such force I think it shocks us both. Her body is rigid in my arms, and for a second I wonder if she’ll push me away. She doesn’t. She never does, and I wonder if she ever will.
50
Alicia
Chase makes love to me with a ferocity that’s almost frightening, or at least it would be if it wasn’t so fucking hot. It’s as if he’s branding himself on my skin, or attempting to memorize all the ways we fit together. As if he has something to prove.
Not that I’m complaining. If anything, I’m happy to be on the receiving end of his sexual punishment. It’s clear he was having a moment in the laundry room and I mean to ask him about it, but after we fuck there’s dinner to make and kittens to care for. By the time we make it to the bedroom, it slips my mind. It’s only as I’m drifting off, my brain barely conscience, that I remember.
Exhaustion pulls me under, strong as the tide outside. I sleep like the dead and my alarm goes off all too soon. It’s another day closer to the weekend and I still haven’t talked to Chase about Callie and Jill’s visit. There hasn’t been time, or at least that’s the lie I tell myself. The truth is, I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but I also can’t expect them to welcome him with open arms.
“Hey.” Chase kisses my forehead, turning to his side and resting his hand on my hip. “Morning.”
“Hey.” I push the worries from my head with a smile. “Tired of me hogging the blankets yet?”
“Nah. Sheets are overrated. Besides, I always sleep better when you’re in my bed.” The implication of his words strips away another layer of the protection that guards my heart. Much more time together and I’m not sure I’ll have much left.
“We should get up if we’re going to a meeting today,” I say, reluctantly pulling myself away from the comfort of the bed and the man in it. I remove my phone from the charger and heave out a sigh, not quite ready to start the day.
“Yeah.” He sits up and regards me with a wary expression. “I’m not really sure how today’s going to go. Half of me can’t wait to get it over with. The other half isn’t sure I should even go.”
That’s right. Today’s his therapy appointment. “Do you need me to drive you?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’ve got it.”
I want to ask him more but I also don’t want to freak him out. It’s clear he’s anxious about it, and I don’t want to give him a reason to bail. “I’m proud of you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. I really am.” I lean across the bed and drop a quick kiss on his lips before strutting out of the room. I don’t have much time. Before I reach the door, I stop and turn. Of course, he’s totally checking out my ass. Such a man. “I’ve got dinner tonight, so don’t plan on cooking. First therapy session is something to celebrate.”
His lips pull into a wide smile. “I’d like that.”
“Good.” I turn to leave.
“Alicia?”
“Yeah?” I glance over my shoulder.
“You’re
totally ordering takeout, aren’t you?”
“Totally.” I wink and walk downstairs, his laughter trailing behind. Hey, I am good at many things but cooking isn’t my strong suit. But Chase doesn’t mind; in fact, I think he enjoys preparing our meals.
We stop to drop the kittens at the center, then walk over for coffee before heading into AA. The meeting’s just starting and we rush to take a seat before Rikki begins talking. It’s not long before we’re going around the room for our usual introductions.
“Morning everyone. I’m Chase and I’m an alcoholic.” He pauses briefly for everyone to welcome him with warm smiles and a chorus of hellos. “It’s been twenty-four days since my last drink.” He turns his chin, meeting my gaze as I go next.
“My name is Alicia and I’m an alcoholic.” I wave, a tinge of bravery taking hold in my chest. Maybe because I’m inspired by the man beside me. I don’t overthink it. “It’s been three-hundred-fifty-nine days since my last drink.”
Chase’s gaze snaps to mine. His eyes widen with recognition for what I just said.
“I don’t want to hijack the meeting or anything,” I say, my pulse beating faster with each passing second. A wave of unease passes through me. Fear of being rejected. For being called out as a fake. “But almost a year ago I relapsed in my sobriety. I never told anyone. In fact, I went on acting like it never happened. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry I lied to you in this safe and sacred space.” I swallow hard and turn to Chase. “I won’t do it again.”
He holds my gaze, the intensity of his chocolate brown eyes reeling with emotion.
“Alicia,” Rikki says, pulling my gaze forward. “Thank you for your honesty. Thank you for sharing your truth. We are each broken in our own ways, but that doesn’t mean we’re beyond redemption. You are welcome here. You always have been.”
