“Dude,” David said, “what the fuck is naughty about relish?”
Brian looked thoughtful. “Haven’t you ever relished a lady?”
“Boys,” Judy admonished, gesturing at Alex. “Language.”
“You just pulled that out of your ass,” David mumbled and Brian grinned, seemingly pleased with his quick wit.
I sighed happily. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been to a family barbeque, and I was enjoying the warmth of the Dylans’ bubble. When it came time for me to go, I was reluctant. I thanked them for their hospitality while David brought Sofie and Canyon over.
“I’ll walk you,” he said, fisting both leashes.
I nodded and turned to wave once more at the group.
“He’s gorgeous,” I said, stooping to run a hand along Canyon’s black and tan fur. “I wanted a German Shepherd when I was younger.”
“I’d get one of my own if I could.”
“I’ve never had a dog,” I said wistfully. “My dad didn’t have the time or patience to take care of one. But I love them.” I sighed.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
“Yes. You’re great with Alex.”
David shifted the leashes from one hand to the other. “He makes it easy.”
I stood. “I like your family.”
“They like you, too.”
“You don’t know that,” I teased, bumping him with my shoulder and then withdrawing, embarrassed by the contact rush.
“Of course I do. I never would’ve invited you if I didn’t think they would.”
“Okay,” I accepted, because I desperately wanted it to be true. That this lovely family might think I was a good person meant a great deal to me. When David’s and my naked and entangled bodies flashed before my eyes, the blood drained from my face.
Good people don’t cheat on their husbands, I reminded myself.
I took the leash. “I have to go.”
“Thank you for coming. I’m glad you did.”
I held up my open hand in a wave before turning and retreating down the path.
I was also glad that I’d gone. There was an element of the afternoon that had been long missing in my life. Any time spent with David seemed to emphasize the things that hadn’t been there before. Simplicity. Effortlessness. And on the other end of the spectrum, passion. I’d learned today that the passion between us didn’t only live between the sheets. It was a different kind of passion, but it was there. The desire to be around him, to feed off his energy. When he wasn’t next to me, I longed for him. I thought about it all the way home with a smile.
When I got back to the apartment, I wiped the arrogant grin off my face. Bill glanced up to greet me before turning back to his paperwork. It wasn’t news that Bill and I didn’t have a very passionate relationship, but it was loving and stable. Then again, Bill wasn’t the type to get passionate about much, except maybe sports. And even then, it was passive in its own way.
I had seen what passion could do to a relationship. My mother had been irrational, senseless when it came to my father. She’d let her emotions dictate her life, and that had ultimately driven their marriage into the ground.
I’d never questioned which way was the right way before. I’d always known I would choose reliability and stability over the alternative. The alternative meant a lifetime of mess—fights, pain, insecurity. I tried not to picture that kind of life with David as I watched Bill at the kitchen table. Could David even be faithful to one person? Did the spark between us come from him, because it was the type of person he was? And did that mean everyone felt it in his presence?
Sure, for two people with as much heat as we had, there was bound to be mess. It was inevitable. But there’d also be intensity, craving, impatience. There would be passion.
13
In a baby blue party dress, Gretchen twirled when I called her name. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said as I approached the entrance to The Revelin hotel, which was flanked by security. “I need another drink.”
“You’re not working?” I asked.
