I looked at her, trying to decipher if to press the matter further. I knew her. She was the strongest person I had come across. A rare combination of fighter and sunshine, tough and tender, smart and risk-taker, soft and beautiful, and completely out of reach for me.
And here we were again. At twenty-two, I was like a lost child, and she was a woman with a husband and kids who could take care of the whole world.
I just hoped that someone, maybe that husband of hers, was taking care ofher. She more than deserved it.
“I have to go,” she said. But she didn’t budge. She remained standing there, nestled close to me, our bodies still touching, though her hands weren’t on my arm anymore.
We looked at each other, and in her eyes, despite everything, I could see that she didn’t want to leave just yet. I had a feeling that if I kissed her and pinned her between my body and the door, she’d let me drown in her, in her rainy smell. She’d dissolve in my arms, and I’d dissolve in her.
She took both my hands in hers, rose to her toes, and pressed her cheek against mine. “Oliforever,” she said close to my ear. “Don’t ever give a duck.” She then kissed my cheek. It wasn’t a peck of a friendly kiss. It was lingering, sensual, wet. I hardened in my jeans again.
January pulled herself back. I let her. She wasn’t mine. She couldn’t be. She had given me what she could and, considering my state, I wasn’t worth or deserving of much more from someone like her. I was sober enough now to know that I probably stunk of alcohol.
“You, too,” I said when we faced each other again. I had to gather every shred of willpower to not kiss her, sensing that if I did, she wasn’t going to fight it. But I wasn’t in the business of causing regrets in people I cared about. There were few of those around.
Later, in faraway cities, I wouldn’t give a fuck what regrets women might have if they went for it, whether married, single, or living with. None of them made me feel like that single smile that now spread on January’s face. None of them made me want to drown in them beyond the momentary, the mechanical.
“I won’t give a duck,” she half-whispered. “Promise.” She let go of my hands, opened the door, and left the room.
This was the goodbye we never got when my father had sent me to London.
I remained standing there. For a moment, I again wasn’t sure if I’d dreamed her. When I peeked through the window, I could see the truck just as it finished backing out and exited the motel’s parking lot. Her taillights disappeared from view a second later.
In the shower, I rid myself from the last remnants of alcohol, of the throb in my cock, and of every shred of January Raine’s smell.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I did the same now in my bedroom’s shower as I did back then. January in my head, my cock in my hand, and my heart hammering against its cage.
Knowing now about her ex-husband’s drinking problem, I could only imagine what she had thought of me that night years ago.
One more day, and I’d be out of here. With January, as with the rest of my life, I was in a constant presence and absence mode. I’d be with her then go away, or be sent away, and it didn’t matter anymore who did the sending—him, her, or me.
This was just a house. She could have it. She needed it more than me. Her kids did, too. I wanted her to have it as a present, I wanted to pay her debts, but I knew she would never accept any of it. She’d be offended if I even offered a loan, so the least I could do was make her stay. She was too magnificent to suffer because of the circumstances of her life, because she didn’t have a rich son of a bitch for a father, because she couldn’t afford a lawyer who would get her out of a silly arrest and reinstate her scholarship with a side dish of apology from the college. She deserved everything.
Shewaseverything.
Chapter 13
January
“What’s going on with you today?” Vi asked toward lunchtime. “I got used to you being here at night and now you’re not, and then you get here, and you look like your mind’s somewhere else.”
I smiled. She read me perfectly.
“I have issues, Vi. You know that,” I whispered. Beside Sylvie, Vi was the only one here who officially knew. If the others had an inkling, it was because they had guessed or put two and two together, but I never told anyone.
It seemed that every day gave birth to new issues. My son had texted me earlier that morning, “Remember when I wrote you’ll meet Stephanie ‘sometime soon?’ That might be really soon!”
Dread overshadowed my happiness. If Will wanted to bring his girlfriend home to meet me, whathomewill I host them in?
“I was hoping that when you moved out, it meant you solved them,” Vi whispered back.
“Temporarily only. But I think I got myself into a new set of problems with that.”
Vi seized my wrist all of a sudden. “There’s a man involved. I can tell,” she whispered loudly this time.
I looked around. Sue seemed to listen from the other table. “Do you get along with Sue? She’s nice, right? And what about Charlie?” I tried to divert the conversation.
