Life After Taylah (18 page)

Liam’s words ring in my head. He told me a while back that my dad had told him Momma was having an affair. It can’t be real—she wasn’t like that. She was loving, and loyal and beautiful. She was everything I’m not. She loved my dad; she loved us. She wouldn’t. They’ve got it all wrong.

I scramble backwards, tears roaring down my cheeks. Kelly and Max are both out of their chairs, but I don’t want to see either of them. I put my hands out and shake my head, managing only to get out a crackled, “Leave me alone.”

I turn and rush from the house, gripping my purse from the table by the door as I go.

My world has just been shattered.

~*~*~*~

I
t’s pouring with rain and I’m sitting on the beach, soaked to the bone, my hair stuck to my face. I’m freezing and my teeth are clattering together as I rub my arms, trying to bring some warmth back into my body. I don’t know where to go. If I go home I know Kelly and Max will be waiting for me; if I go to Liam I’ll just get an “I told you so.” That leaves only one option, and it’s the one option I know I shouldn’t consider.

Nate.

He’s in a town fifty miles away, staying at a hotel because he’s racing there tomorrow morning. I’ll be paying a great deal of money to get to him, but right now he’s the only person I want to see—the only person I
need
.

I shove to my feet and drag my aching body up the sand and onto the road. I find a bus shelter and I pull out my phone. I had it tucked under my clothes and between my legs. It’s damp, but it’s not wet. I see I’ve got a great deal of missed calls from Kelly and Max, as well as a few from Liam. I ignore them all and find a number for a cab. I dial it quickly and then I wait.

I don’t manage to warm up, but by the time the cab arrives I’m no longer dripping. I’m just damp and even colder. I swing the door open and slide into the back seat, giving the driver the name of the hotel that Nate told me he was staying at. I’m worried about going to him, because when he told me the name of the place he was staying he said, “In case of emergency, this is where I’ll be,” but it was said with a deep underlying tone that told me he literally meant
only
in case of an emergency, and not for a secret visit.

He’s hardly spoken to me since that night—he’s still angry, and I understand why. I insulted him and I hurt him. It wasn’t fair of me to do that. He’s risking everything for me, and I made him feel as though I didn’t believe in him. The thing is, I do believe in him. I adore Nate; I might even love him, and I was wrong for questioning him. I don’t know how it feels to be in his shoes. I have no idea how hard this must be for him.

“You look cold, miss,” the older cab driver says as we head down the highway.

“I got stuck in the rain,” I croak.

“Here,” he says, reaching across to turn the heater on.

“Oh, thank you,” I say, feeling the warmth push out and fill the back of the car.

Heaven.

I settle back into the seat, letting the heater warm me as we drive, and I think about what Max revealed to me today. I trust Max and I love him like the father I never had, but he can’t be right about my mother. She wouldn’t do that to us; she wouldn’t hurt us like that. But then I think of my situation and myself, and I instantly become aware of the fact that sometimes even the best people make mistakes. I’m the perfect example of that. I’m travelling to a married man who I’ve begun an affair with. That’s not something I’d ever thought I would allow myself to do.

Fresh tears spring to my eyes as I think about my beautiful mother falling for another man. Did he hurt her? Did he have a wife that found out? Dread fills my chest as I realize how very real that situation could be . . . for me. I try to block the thought out, not wanting to let it into the part of my brain that is already hesitating. Instead I close my eyes and put my face in my hands, and I leave it there until the cab driver pulls the vehicle to a stop.

“Here you are, miss.”

I lift my head. My neck aches from my long-held position and I peer out the window. I see a small, cozy hotel with a flashing red sign that says
Oasis Inn
. I hand the driver some money and he quickly retrieves some change. I thank him and get out, wrapping my arms around my still damp body. I hesitate for a second as the cab disappears into the night. Should I be here?

I slowly walk towards the hotel reception, my feet dragging. I shouldn’t be here; I should turn around and go home. He probably doesn’t want to see me. What if Lena is here with him? What am I doing? I put my hand on the doorknob at the reception door and I slowly twist it, pushing it open. An older man is standing at a large reception desk, his glasses pushed down on his nose, studying a travel guide. He looks up when the bell chimes.

“Hello,” he says. “Can I help you?”

I force a smile. “I’m just here to meet my friend. He gave me the name of the hotel but not the room number.”

The older man raises his brows.

“His name is Nathaniel Alexander.”

He tilts his head to the side and nods. “I’ll ring him, find out if he’s expecting you.”

Shit.

He reaches down and lifts the phone, dialing a number.

“Mr. Alexander, yes, it’s Timothy from reception. I have a young lady here saying that you were expecting her.”

There’s a long moment of silence.

“What’s your name, miss?” the man asks, staring at me.

“Avery,” I whisper.

“She said her name is Avery.”

He nods a few times and then says, “Very good.”

He puts the phone down and turns to me. “He’s in room two. Head out the door, turn to your left, and follow the doors down until you see it.”

“Thank you,” I say, turning and rushing out.

I follow his directions until I reach the fading yellow door with a rusty
2
hanging on it. I hesitate with my hand in the air, ready to knock. Have I truly made the right choice coming here? Before I can bring my hand down, the door opens and Nate is standing, looking at me. His eyes widen when he takes in my expression and my damp clothes. I know I must look like hell.

“I know you don’t really want to see me,” I croak, “but I had nowhere else to go.”

“You’ve been crying,” he says, his voice low and throaty. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of low-hanging sweat pants that are a light grey in color. They hang on his hips in
that
way.

My lip trembles as memories of this afternoon swell in my mind. “I . . . got news about my mother and I ran out. I didn’t know where else to go.”

He pushes the door further open, his eyes softening. “Come in. Tell me what’s happening.”

I take a step in the room, going to move past him but he stops me with a hand to my upper arm. He closes the door and turns to me, running a finger over my cheek. “You’re freezing, Dancer. Before we do anything, you’re going to shower.”

I nod, too weak to argue.

“I have some clothes you can borrow. Come on.”

He takes my hand, warming it with his larger one, and he leads me to the bathroom. It’s got an older-style shower, with lime-green tiles and a glass door. The towels match the tiles in a really, really bad way. Nate watches me, his eyes worried as I slowly pull my shirt off.

“You going to be okay?”

I nod, not lifting my eyes from the floor.

“Shit, Dancer,” he says, stepping in closer and putting his hands on either side of my face, forcing me to look up at him. “You’re scarin’ me.”

“They can’t be right about her, Nate. If they’re right about her then everything I ever believed was wrong,” I croak.

He runs his thumb over a tear that slips out. “Your perception of someone is just that: yours. What you believe can only be changed if you let it.”

I close my eyes and nod, turning my cheek into his hand.

“Shower, honey,” he murmurs. “Then we’ll talk.”

He drops his hands and turns, leaving me to shower alone and in peace. I’m so grateful for him in this moment.

So grateful.

~*~*~*~

S
he looks like hell. She’s sitting on my couch wearing one of my long, black Cubs shirts. She’s got her knees tucked up to her chest, her arms firmly wrapped around them. Her hair is damp still and she hasn’t yet brushed it, so it matts around her face. Even like this, she’s still breathtakingly beautiful.

“Tell me what happened,” I say, my voice as affectionate as I can make it.

She doesn’t lift her head when I speak, but she begins talking in a low, soft tone. “Max said they found another lead. He said there was a hotel owner that came into the mix and gave them the name of a man who used to stay there often. This man was seen with my mother a few times. Max contacted him and he said . . .” She takes a shaky breath. “He said they were having an affair, that they were going to run away together but she suddenly went missing.”

“Oh, baby,” I murmur, my heart breaking for her.

She begins to cry again, her tiny body shaking. “It can’t be right, Nate. She was so pure, so perfect. She loved us, loved my dad; there wasn’t a time she wasn’t full of smiles and laughter. How could she have been having an affair when she was so happy?”

“People can pretend,” I say carefully. “A smile can cover so much pain.”

She looks up at me with tears sliding down her cheeks. “But her smile was so real, so beautiful - so amazing. I just can’t believe it wasn’t right. I can’t sleep at night thinking she might have been slowly dying behind it.”

“Whatever was happening between your father and your mother wouldn’t take away from the fact that she adored you and Liam. The smiles she gave you, the happiness she shared with you—that was all real, Avery.”

“How would you know?” she croaks.

“Because I give Macy the smiles that are real, the love that’s real. I give her everything I don’t give Lena.”

She stares at me for the longest time, her eyes searching my face. “Can you tell me she was truly happy? That is was possible for it to have been real?”

“Of course it was possible for it to have been real,” I say, standing up and taking a seat beside her. “Avery, just because one element in her life wasn’t happy doesn’t mean the rest was taken down with it. She was unhappy with your dad, and she clearly found something worth fighting for in this other man. I’m the perfect example of that. You give me hope, you let me breathe again; coming to you, seeing your smile, it’s the only way I can keep fighting.”

“Is it strange for me to say I want to meet him?” she says, her voice low and shaky.

I shake my head. “Of course not. He has answers she can’t give you.”

She’s silent a moment, and then she lifts her eyes to mine and searches my face again, like she’s looking for an answer there.

“I’m sorry for what I said the other night, Nate. I didn’t mean it. This . . . us . . . what I feel here—it’s terrifying. This isn’t the girl I ever wanted to be, but I can’t stay away from you. Logic is lost on me. You’re all I see, all I want.”

I reach out and stroke her bottom lip. “It’s forgotten.”

She stares at my mouth and suddenly heat sparks in my chest again. I shouldn’t be doing this—I shouldn’t
want
to do this but when I’m here with her, I can’t seem to make myself think of anything else. All my guilt is washed away; the only thing I can see is a pair of devastating eyes that hold so much pain, so much love and so much compassion I never want to stare at anything else.

“I’m goin’ to kiss you now,” I murmur, “because I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.”

Her cheeks turn pink and she nods, her eyes not moving from mine. I lean forward, lifting my hand and gently cupping her cheek, running my thumb over the soft skin there. She shudders and shifts closer to me, dropping her hands to my thighs and holding them. I lean down and gently graze her lips, my skin prickling with need. She feels so good. So fucking good.

She deepens the kiss, sliding her hand up my thigh and slipping it underneath my shirt. I groan and slip my tongue between her pink lips, tangling it with hers. A whimper escapes her and travels through me, and her hands find my abs. She runs her fingers up and down, stroking my skin in the most delicate way. She’s fucking perfect, so graceful and elegant. A true lady.

My lady.

“O
h God,” I whimper, running my nails down his arms.

Nate grips my backside, riding my pussy against his jean-clad cock. My clit tingles with need as he rocks me against him, his hands on my ass, his lips on my neck. He’s taunting me, teasing me, making me want him.

“You’re going to come like this,” he breathes into my ear. “Then you’re going to come with my tongue in your pussy, then you’re going to come around my cock.”

Oh.

God.

He rocks his hips again, using his hands to pull my ass harder against him. The friction is divine, sending me up and over the edge quickly. I cry out his name, my fingernails running down his arms as I shudder.

I don’t have the chance to recover because he’s moving down my body, taking my pants with him. He discards them quickly and then takes my foot, lifting it and placing it on his shoulder.

My cheeks are heated. I’m so exposed to him, but there’s nothing that could make me turn away. Especially when his tongue slides out and slowly travels up my slit, stirring my aching pussy back to life. I cry out his name again and drop my head back against the wall, tilting my hips and pressing my sex into his mouth harder. He chuckles against my flesh and one of his hands slaps my ass, causing a sting of pain to radiate through my legs. It’s worth it, though. My blood begins to warm and my body tingles all over.

His tongue hits my clit, stiff and unrelenting. My cries become garbled and my legs feel as though they’ve turned to jelly. He releases my hip and slips his hand beneath us, bringing it up to my wet sex. He slips two fingers in, stretching me, filling me, making my groans turn into cries. So good, oh God, so good. His tongue works harder, his fingers pound into me and in seconds I’m coming—again.

“Nate,” I scream. “Oh, fuck.”

He pulls his fingers from my sex before I’ve finished trembling and then he’s standing, jerking his jeans down just enough to free his cock. He lifts my leg and puts it around his waist. Before I’ve got the chance to steady myself, he’s plunging inside me, deep and fast, causing my entire body to jerk with need. I open my mouth and it seems to take ten seconds before my strangled groan escapes. Nate is silent—all I can hear is his ragged breathing as he uses my ass to drive his thrusts. His arms bulge, his shoulders pull under his shirt and his mouth is on my neck again, sucking, nibbling, occasionally biting.