Wednesday (5 page)

“I’m not here on a summer vacation,
Tristan. I’m a mother, making a life for my son. So hanging out with
the
girls
isn’t too high on the priority list.” She pauses then, looking more
sad than mad. Almost hurt. “Not that they would have me anyway.”

On the surface, I don’t care. I
have long since learned how to compartmentalize my feelings. Aria is a pain in
the ass and if I make her feel bad, well, so be it. I would take a lesson from
her book, because she’s never troubled herself with thoughts about me or my
feelings.   

I check the time – it’s now half
past get-the-fuck-out, and though I know I can’t leave her injured like this, I
have to get her out of here so I can breathe again.

First, I’ll need to air out the
place, because hell if her sweet scent doesn’t cloud my judgment – an intoxicating
mixture of the salty ocean and honey, putting filthy thoughts in my head as I
wonder what other scents her body carries.

I shake away the enticing thought.   

The first Aria sighting threw me
off, but I had to tell myself it was the shock and surprise. It was the anger
resurfacing – that was it. Anger. Over the next few hours, I had the chance to
get used to the idea, but it did nothing to settle the turmoil going on inside.
My desire for her is still there after all this time, and that just pisses me
off even more.

Now, she’s in my house wearing tiny
shorts that show off her long, lean legs; her hair wild, falling out of the
tail she put it in to keep it out of her face while she ran; her gorgeous olive
skin flushed and begging to be touched. My dick twitches at the sight. Jesus. I
have to get ahold of the situation.

Aria, on the other hand, glares at
me. No, it’s not a glare really. It’s more an expression of disgust or an
irritation she has to deal with, like a coffee stain on her favorite sweater.
And damn, it makes me want her. Exactly why it’s critical that she leaves ASAP.

Still, the masochist in me wants to
see how long I can endure it. See how long it’d take me to break. What would
she do when I did? 

I clearly have a problem, and it’s
time to remedy it. Time to take control. I’ll just quickly take care of her
foot and send her on her way. That’ll be the best thing I can do. No need to
dirty my hands.

 With the first aid kit in reach, I
go to work on her foot.

I’m instantly taken back to high
school. Aria was always running on the beach – and other places – barefoot. I
can’t count the number of times I’ve had to do minor surgery on her little
feet. Not that I minded. I always enjoyed being her hero.

But that all changed once she found
Alex. The thought of him makes me tighten my grip on her ankle.

“Ow,” she groans.

“Don’t be such a baby,” I snap.

She kicks me with her good foot and
I can’t help but laugh. So much time has passed, but it seems like days rather
than years. The release is welcome, and eases the tension. Aria smiles too.

As I finish up, I hold her down by
the inside of her thigh to prevent a swift kick to the balls. I don’t realize
the movement is intimate until I hear Aria’s sharp intake of breath. When I
look up, there’s no mistaking it. Her nipples tighten into two hard peaks under
her thin tank top. Taut buds that demand attention. I want to be the one to
give it to them.

Fuck me.

She likes my hands on her.

And that thrills me to no end. I
have the same effect on her – which means I could get back the upper hand. I
raise my brow in her direction; she looks away, clearing her throat.

Oh yes, it is time to have some fun
with this.

“Something bothering you, Aria?” I
ask in mocked innocence.

“No,” she says indignantly, her
eyes narrowing. “Just hurry up.”

“I don’t like to hurry. Surely you
remember that.” I inch my hand up a little higher. Her skin is so soft. So
warm.
Shit.

“Why are you helping me, anyway?”
She captures me with those dark eyes. Her face might be pinched, but her eyes are
tender. “You don’t even like me anymore, Tris.”

“Understatement,” I say, ignoring the
way my name on her lips sends an electric jolt straight to my dick.

In an effort to keep control, my
hand continues to rise up her leg. Who am I kidding? I do it for the pure
pleasure. Marking her on some fucked-up animalistic level.

Yeah, I’m in bad shape.

“Okay,” she says, blowing the hair
out of her eyes. “You hate me and I can’t stand you. Is that better?”

“The two have nothing to do with
this.”  I glance down at my hand – so close to reaching her sweet spot, I can
feel the heat rolling in waves from her center. It takes every ounce of
self-control I have not to plunge my fingers deep inside.

“You disgust me,” Aria says, still
not moving away.

She calls my bluff. As much as my
hand wants to continue its pursuit of the Promised Land, I stop. If I go any
further, I’m not sure I’ll be able to recover. So I finish bandaging her foot,
thoroughly enjoying every second of my newly-found control.

“Your body doesn’t agree,” I
respond to her insult.

“Asshole,” she huffs, pulling back
now.

So I lean in, brushing my chest
against her traitorous nipples.
Perfect.
That’s right, Tristan Green is
no longer that scrawny kid creaming his jeans every time Aria Prince is near. I
keep the upper hand. In everything. Though I admit, her responses to my touch
have the wheels turning inside my head. Yes, I could definitely do something
with this.

“All done,” I whisper in her ear.

She inches closer, just so slightly,
before pushing herself up.

You’re not fooling anyone, Aria.

“Yes, we are done,” she says, and I
think we both can feel the history of those words. The playful banter is over.

In the next moment, the screen door
slams shut and I release all the air in my lungs. Trouble is, once she’s gone,
all I can think about is getting my hands on her again.

Tristan Green is an
arrogant asshole.

So he may be in the variety of
I-want-to-rip-off-your-clothes-and-lick-you-like-an-ice-cream-cone-asshole. But
an asshole nonetheless.

The gall of him to touch me that
way. Even more disturbing was the way I let him. Let. Him. I actually wanted
his touch – craved it. How sick was that? This guy who I despised, and who
found me equally as offensive. Though that definitely wasn’t the feeling he was
giving me today.

The sun has set, so I walk in the
shadows. Still I swear I can feel his eyes on me. I need to get out of here.
Back to safety.
Olly olly oxen free,
my home calls out. And despite my
torn-up foot, I run. No, this was not a game I’d be playing again. 
 

When I arrive, the restaurant is
closed, but Cade is still up. I hear the soft voices of him and Mom. And… here
we go – my sister.

Serena wasn’t with the welcome
wagon this afternoon and I couldn’t help the little prickle in my chest at her
absence. Inside, the three of them are huddled on the couch together and I
instantly warm. Okay, my eyes fill a little bit. At least it was just me Serena
was avoiding, because she seems to be enamored with my son.

“Mommy.”  Cade reaches out for me.

“What are you still doing up?” I
ask.

“Serena wants to take him
tomorrow.” Mom gestures to my sister. The one who’s hardly talked to me since I
left almost four years ago. “So, he can sleep in.”

I arch an eyebrow.

“Plus,” Mom admits, defeated. “We
wanted more time with him.”

“I thought you had the daycare set
up, so I could help you at the restaurant.”

“Well, about that –” Mom starts
before Serena interrupts. 

“I’d like to nanny for Cade this
summer,” Serena says.

My sister is only two years younger
than me, but I still see the sophomore in high school who wouldn’t talk to me
when I left town. Her sweatpants are bunched up at her knees and her mint
green-painted toes wiggle up on the couch. She’s make-up free, not that she
needs a thing on her perfect skin, her long hair wrapped in a top knot. I feel
ancient standing next to her. She’s so fresh-faced, and innocent, but still has
that air of defiance. Mom actually had to force her to go to my wedding. She
hated Alex with a passion and didn’t agree with any of my decisions once I
found out I was pregnant with Cade.

Serena has her arm around him now,
and I wonder if she remembers that she tried to talk me into adoption.

“You what?” I ask, totally taken
aback by her offer.

“That’s what I’ve been doing, Ari,”
she says. My face heats hearing her call me by my nickname. “I’ve nannied for
Jack and Philly’s twins for the past two years.”

I’m sad I don’t know this. A prick
of jealousy pokes at me. My family has moved on without me. Jack and Philly’s
boys were just toddlers when I left. They don’t even know who I am.   

“What about the restaurant?” I ask.
I know with me gone, Mom has needed the extra hands.

“We make do,” Mom chimes in. “It’s
the best thing for Serena, and looks great on her resumé since she’s going into
Elementary Ed.”

“You picked a major?” I ask, a
little too excited. Just because our relationship was no more than radio
silence didn’t mean I stopped keeping tabs on her. Elementary Education. It was
perfect.

“I did,” Serena answers, looking
like the adorable kid I remember when she turns all cherry-faced. “And I’m
actually quite good. Ask Jack. I’m open for one more, if you’ll have me. And
you better have me, because I need to spend time with this monkey.” She tickles
Cade, but with me, she’s all business. “I have a contract in the kitchen.”

As much as I want to be mad at
Serena, and not let her have what she wants, I know this is how it should be.
Deep in my heart, this is where Cade and I are meant to be. And I want to kick myself
for waiting so long to get us back home.

I nod in agreement. “Okay,” I tell
her.

Cade squeals. “I get to play with
my cousins all day long.”

Oh boy, the destruction brothers.
What were they going to teach my angel?

“Well, in that case,” I tell him,
“it’s bedtime. You’re going to need all the energy you’ve got to keep up with
those two.”

“Jack doesn’t bring the kids until
ten,” Serena says. “I’ll just have him drop them here, so Cade can have more
time to adjust.”

“Okay,” I say again, bringing Cade
to his bedroom, thinking I might need my own time to adjust.

I tuck in Cade, and all his stuffed
animals, and kiss him goodnight. Then I follow suit. It might only be nine
p.m., but I’m exhausted.

I’m in my old room, the space I
used to share with Serena. It’s all a bit weird. What’s that poem about how you
can never go home again? Well, here we are. At least Mom changed it up. There’s
now a queen bed, instead of two doubles, with the softest cotton sheets and
comfy pale blue duvet. It looks new. Everything is a soothing blue and white
and there’s even a desk in the corner for me.

Of course Mom would do it up. I
don’t care how long it takes, I will find a way to make it up to her.

Flipping on the bedside lamp, I
pick up one of the books she left for me: a psychological thriller titled
The
Silent Wife.
And just by the sound of the story, I think the wife wins. 

Well played, Mother. Well played.

No more than five minutes later,
Cade is crawling into bed with me. Now I know a grown-up mother would lovingly,
but firmly, put him back in his own bed. But Cade and I have spent more time in
the same bed than apart. And I rely on him as much as he does on me.

I pull back the covers and we
cuddle until his breathing deepens. How I love that part. His little boy breath
usually lulls me to sleep, but tonight my body is jittery and my mind keeps
replaying my chat with Tris.

Of all people to be back here. I
never planned for this. Never even fathomed that I’d have to deal with him
again. Though he has crossed my mind more than once since I left. Much more.
Part of me is happy he’s doing so well. The last time I saw him, I was sure I
ruined him for life.

***

“Don’t do this, Aria,” he said when
he found me in one of the small dressing rooms at the church. I had been there
early. Praying of all things. I was so worried about the pregnancy, being in
church was the only thing that seemed to give me any comfort. 

Tristan found me, and if I didn’t
know better, I’d say Mom tipped him off. I wasn’t answering his calls, so he figured
an ambush was the best way to reach me.

“I have to,” I told him, keeping
the baby a secret. That was Alex’s idea. I wanted Tris to know, to understand
it wasn’t anything he did. I wasn’t choosing Alex over him. I was choosing my
baby.

So I was forced to rip his heart
right out of his chest. Little did I know, he would hold onto that pain. I
could see it today. Some people never get over heartbreak or loss. People like
Tristan Green. It alters and changes them forever. A scar left in the wake –
raised and ugly and permanent.

“So that’s it?” Tristan asked. His
eyes bloodshot, his face flushed.

“I’m sorry, Tris,” I told him. “I
didn’t plan it this way. But I have to go.”

“You don’t have to do a goddamn
fuckin’ thing. You are choosing to do this. Choosing to leave. Choosing him
over me.”

“It’s not like that,” I argued.

“Really?” Tris gave me that gross
sarcastic laugh. “Then tell me. What’s it like?”

At that point I knew I had to tell
him. I couldn’t keep this from him. He was my best friend, and so much more.

“There’s a reason, Tris,” I began.
“I –”

Tristan interrupted me and wouldn’t
let me get it out. I can’t say exactly what happened next, the emotions were
too high and my head was spinning. One thing was clear, I never got to tell
him.