At a pause in the conversation, Bill turned to me and kissed my temple. “All good?” he asked.
He looked tired. I nodded with a quick smile. “All good.”
Later, as the remaining guests spilled out of the Greenes’ home, we took turns wishing Lucy and Andrew a good honeymoon. I avoided David and took off for the car but immediately wished I hadn’t when I looked back and saw Bill approaching David. While I debated whether or not to interfere, David handed Bill something, and they shook hands. I bit my nail as Bill took eons to cross the pebbled driveway, rocks crunching loudly under his feet.
What had they spoken about? The question burned at the tip of my tongue.
Once we were driving away, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “What did he give you?” I blurted.
“Who?”
I grasped my earlobe between my fingers and hesitated. “David.”
“Oh, his card. We’re going to try to set something up this week. Jeanine’s been on my ass about what she should tell the owners.”
“Can’t we just hire an appraiser or something?”
“We’ll do that, too, but I need David’s expert advice on what it’ll cost to renovate.”
“Why?”
“Because, babe, I don’t want to make an offer until I know what it’ll set us back.”
“No, whyhim?”
“Sounds like he knows what he’s talking about, according to Andrew. Plus, if I don’t have to pay someone, all the better.”
“Aha,” I muttered under my breath. I should have guessed, since saving money was one of Bill’s favorite hobbies.
“Something bothering you, sweet cheeks?” he asked sardonically.
I huffed in my seat and looked away. I’d brought this on myself, so why was I taking it out on Bill? The threat of Bill and David spending time together was too real.
Fuck. Seriously, fuck. Now that David’s dating Dani, will he be around more?
Bill sighed, and I cast a sidelong glance at him. How could I have danced with David in front of everyone? Why hadn’t I left when I’d found him in the kitchen in the middle of the night? And had Bill seen or heard anything? I was playing with fire, but when I was in David’s company, I didn’t care. I just wanted more of him.
I flipped on the air conditioning in the suddenly stifling car. Whether Bill knew it or not, I was hurting him. Directly, indirectly, it’d been my fault he couldn’t perform after the wedding. I had changed something between us without him even knowing.
In the beginning, I’d been drawn to Bill’s confidence. He was independent and successful. Things with him had been simple, gradual. But the traits that had attracted me to him also had their downsides. He was attentive when it was convenient for him. He was even-keeled, like our relationship. He was mild—like our relationship. He didn’t dig, or probe, or question why things were the way they were, because for him, it was enough.
David was not only attentive, but intuitive. Was he that way with all of his women? Though nothing had happened, I felt as though I’d misbehaved over the weekend. Everything about David screamed intimacy—the way he looked at me, his words, his touch.
Sure, it wasn’t realistic to expect that my feelings would have vanished in only three months. But what unsettled me was that they were as strong as ever.
Seeing David was a full-body experience. I felt heavy and light at the same time.
He gives me butterflies, but they aren’t butterflies. They’re bigger and darker and scarier, like crows. They’re dangerous. And did Bill ever give me butterflies?
My relationship with Bill had started slow. When we’d meet downstairs in the middle of the workday, I would feel happy, anticipatory. I liked his company as well as our conversations.
But butterflies . . . did I have them? Does it matter if I did? Since when do butterflies determine anything?
I wondered if David gave Dani butterflies or worse . . . didsheexcitehim? If he’d found her in the kitchen in the middle of the night instead of me, would he have stood too close, voiced things better left unsaid?
My mind clouded. Did he,wouldhe, touch her . . . like he’d touched me? I pictured how he’d undress her, stroke her skin, run his hands through her long hair. My teeth gritted as I saw her in his apartment, sitting on same couch I had. In his bedroom as I’d been. Wrapped up in his sheets. Tangled in him.
Oh, God. It’s too much.
