Eleven
The next morning, I’m sitting at my kitchen counter, nursing my second cup of coffee. It’s black thanks to Saxon drinking all the milk and putting the empty carton back into the fridge, giving the illusion we had milk—one of his many habits I’ve grown to accept.
I slept like utter crap, and have no doubt my unruly appearance reflects it. Sophia is due to be here at ten, but honestly, I don’t even know if Sam will see her. I used to be able to read him like a book. But now, he may as well be written in Chinese.
“Hello? Anyone home? I bear gifts of the food kind.” Piper’s happy voice lifts my spirits and I unlatch the backdoor.
The moment she sees me, she frowns. “What’s wrong, Luce?”
Looking down at her tray of Krispy Kremes, I reach for them and sigh. “Let’s talk about this while I overdose on sugar.”
She doesn’t argue.
I pour her a cup of coffee while she hops up onto the counter, watching me closely. “So, spill. What happened? I thought I’d come over and you’d be floating in a post-coitus bubble.”
I scoff, passing her some coffee. “Hardly. The only coitus was Sam screwing me over by stealing my car, being MIA for half the night, then showing up in a police car after being kicked out of a strip club, drunk and disorderly. Oh, and he lost my car.”
Piper’s mouth hangs open, a look of utter disbelief on her face. “No!”
“Yes,” I affirm. “I couldn’t make this stuff up.”
“This is messed up.”
“Tell me about it. Then I yelled at Saxon for no apparent reason other than the fact he’s Saxon,” I confess, slumping onto the stool and rummaging through the box of donuts. “When did my life turn to shit?”
Piper looks stunned, which makes me feel even worse. I need one of her wise ass cracks. I need her to tell me this is going to be okay. But she can’t. What she can offer me is some comic relief. “What a dickface. Where is he now?”
Tearing into my pastry, I reveal, “In the barn. Apparently he’d rather sleep beside our farm animals because they don’t talk back.”
“That fucking dickface!” she exclaims, slamming her mug onto the counter. “I get he’s having a hard time, but seriously, this is getting out of control. He’s making the old, smart ass Sam look like a saint.”
“I know.” I sigh, my mouth stuffed full. “Sophia is coming over at ten. Let’s hope she can try to find my fiancé under the layers of asshole he’s currently buried under because I don’t know how much longer I can deal with this bullshit. I’m trying to be patient, understanding, but enough is enough.”
As Piper’s mouth moves from side to side in contemplation, I’m almost afraid to ask what she’s thinking, but I suck it up and ask. “What, Pipe?”
“Your patience is unbelievable, and you deserve some kind of a medal for putting up with his crap, but what if he never remembers, Luce? What if he’s stuck being this gigantic dickhole forever? He was a little arrogant before, but this just takes it to another level.”
“That’s a lot of what ifs. Ones I can’t accept right now.” I scratch my fingernail over the handle of the mug. “I have to believe that he’ll remember, Piper. If I don’t…” I don’t need to finish my sentence as she understands me clearly.
We chew in pensive silence, not needing any words to convey how we feel.
“Mornin’.”
Saxon’s arrival is exactly the distraction Piper needs. I, on the other hand, cringe and sink further into my seat. As he walks through the kitchen, making a beeline for the coffee, I can’t help but admire his good looks. My admiration of his freshly washed hair, white fitted t-shirt, and ripped blue jeans which hug all the right places has me thinking about our weird adrenalin punch last night.
One minute we were talking and the next I was questioning if my hand was on fire. I don’t understand it. His confident, cocky touch is so unlike Samuel’s, which is probably a good thing, seeing as he’s not my fiancé.
“You sleep okay?”
His gravel coated voice snaps me from my thoughts. “Yeah, fine,” I lie, meeting his lucid stare over the rim of his raised mug. Wisps of hair cover his left eye, the guise appearing as if he’s guarding a secret.
Is he angry at me? He has every right to be. I lashed out last night, and he didn’t deserve it. With that thought in mind, I push the box of sugar his way. “The pink ones are my favorite.” He peers down at the box, grinning when he observes the lone pink donut surrounded by a sea of other colors.
I can’t ignore this peace offering is similar to one that he offered me a few weeks ago. It appears we both need sugary goodness on hand to pardon our behavior towards each other.
He reaches for the pink frosted donut with colorful sprinkles, licking the gooey icing from his fingers. However, he surprises me as he passes it to me. I accept, as I would never turn down such an offering.
“You said they were your favorite,” he explains when I continue staring at him. I can’t help but smirk as he then reaches for the yellow frosted one.
“Let’s throw a party,” Piper announces, breaking my gaze. When I cringe, she playfully wiggles her finger at me. “You said yes.”
“I know, but that was before all of this—” I motion with my pointer around the room “—happened.”
“What happened?” a croaky voice from behind me says. Does he not remember last night?
Piper stops chewing as she looks over my shoulder, not bothering to hide her distaste at Samuel’s appearance. “Did you enjoy your stay in the barn? You sure as hell smell like you slept amongst the animals. Or maybe that’s your natural stench.”
“Piper!” I scold, my ponytail striking like a whip as I turn to face her. I play facial charades, begging her to stop.
She stops, but does a poor job at hiding her scowl. And Saxon does a poor job at hiding his lopsided grin.
When Sam rounds the counter, I suppress the urge to yell at him and be the bigger person. “Coffee?” He looks like utter shit in his crumpled clothes, snarled hair, and dark rings under his eyes. It appears we both slept like crap.
He nods while peering into the box of donuts. “Thanks.”
I steady my hand as I pour his cup of coffee. His reply is better than a ‘fuck you.’ Maybe he’s woken up on the right side of the bale. One can only hope.
When I pass him his coffee, I can’t help but notice Saxon standing off to the side, leaning against the counter as he quietly sips his coffee. Is he waiting for an apology from Sam? I know I owe him one, and I realize Sam owes us both one— actually, he owes us many. His behavior yesterday was really shitty, and then there’s the fact of where exactly my car is.
But all of that can wait until after he’s had his session with Sophia.
“So, party?” Piper says, cutting through the silence.
Just as I’m about to object once again, Sam’s expression has me zipping my lips. “What party?”
“Thanks to your amnesia taking up everyone’s life…” I close my eyes, shaking my head at Piper’s tactlessness. “We have forgotten what fun is. No pun intended,” she adds, waving off her comment. “So, I suggest we have a party to remind us.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Sam replies, a smile lighting up his face. “Who are you, by the way?”
Piper shrugs, not at all offended. “We’re arch enemies. Quite frankly, I hate your guts right now.” Saxon’s laugh gets lost within the walls of his mug as he chokes on his coffee.
“She’s joking,” I amend, widening my eyes at Piper, telling her to quit it.
“No, I’m really not,” she argues sarcastically. Sam doesn’t seem offended, so I let it go.
With the party apparently going ahead, I decide to get ready as its already 9:30 and Sophia will be here soon. The problem is, how do I tell Samuel? I can’t be sure if he remembers Sophia penciling in this appointment. It wasn’t like he wrote it down or seemed remotely interested in the prospect of her seeing him after he was discharged.
I can sense yet another argument brewing.
Gulping down my coffee, I rinse my cup off in the sink, hoping someone will get the hint that it’s time we all move. It shouldn’t surprise me that that someone is Saxon. It appears he can read me a lot better than I thought he could.
“What time is Sophia coming over?” he asks casually.
“Ten o’clock,” I reply, looking at Sam. I breathe a sigh of relief when he doesn’t throw his mug against the wall in protest.
“Sam, go take a shower. You smell like shit,” Saxon says, half joking.
I hold my breath, afraid World War Three is about to erupt in my kitchen. I’m stunned when Sam flips him off, but nods. “Fuck you, pretty boy. Are you sure you didn’t use up all the hot water washing your hair?”
Piper snorts, muting her outburst behind her hand.
I am so relieved at their banter, as opposed to them cursing one another out like last night. It’s these small snippets that have me not giving up on Sam. Underneath his anger lies the man I know and love. Here’s hoping Sophia can bring him back to me.
Sam finishes his coffee and places the mug in the dishwasher. The simple gesture has me smiling. I want him to feel like this is his home again, and small things like this will help make that happen. He bumps Saxon playfully before walking down the hall. I refrain from asking if he needs directions to the bathroom as I’m trying not to smother him.
“So when is our epic party going to take place?” Piper asks, wiggling her eyebrows wickedly.
“I know that look, Piper Green,” I reply, unable to keep the smirk from my face.
“What look?” She fakes innocence, but I’m not fooled.
“When I say party, I don’t mean frat party, okay? Piper?” I press when she whistles and looks anywhere but at me. “Piper?”
Meeting my eyes, she grins. “Okay, I gotcha. Loud and clear. No frat party. What about a keg party?”
Saxon chuckles while I roll my eyes. This is a losing battle. A knock on the front door interrupts all talks of parties.
“This conversation is not yet finished,” I tease, pointing at my conspiring friend.
“Bring it on,” she replies, cocking out her hip.
I leave Piper shuffling closer to an unsuspecting Saxon. Poor guy.
As I walk down the hall, the glassed panel reveals that Sophia is standing at my front door. She’s early, which makes me happy. She’s just as keen as I am to get this show on the road.
“Hi, Dr. Yates.” When she purses her red lips, I amend, “Sorry. Sophia.”
She smiles. “Good morning, Lucy. I hope you don’t mind that I’m a bit early.”
“No, not at all. Please, come in.” I open the door and step aside.
She enters, looking like a complete runway model in tight blue jeans, red ankle boots, and a white silk blouse. Her black hair is tied back into a neat bun, exposing her natural beauty. Her beauty reminds me of my lack at the moment. I try and tame my bird nest, but the snarled strands protest and resist any grooming. I give up.
“How’s Samuel?” she asks, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
“He’s okay,” I reply half-heartedly, closing the door.
“Just okay?” She reads through my bullshit instantly.
Not wanting Sam to overhear, I lower my voice as we walk down the hall. “Well, he’s still moody, and he still hates me.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t hate you.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” I reply, grateful for her efforts at attempting to play this down.
“We hurt the ones we love,” she offers kindly.
I want to believe her, but I would be naïve if I didn’t at least acknowledge the truth. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better, but Sam doesn’t remember me, therefore he doesn’t remember that he loves me. I like to think that a small part of him does, but lately, I’m not so sure.” I’m proud I’m able to hold it together without bursting into tears.
I’m thankful when she doesn’t give me false promises, or tell me that everything will be all right.
We walk into the kitchen, interrupting Piper fawning over Saxon and his tattoos. The moment we enter, Saxon looks incredibly guilty, while Piper looks like all of her dreams have come true. He subtly removes his arm from her hold.
“Hey, Doc.” When he addresses Sophia, I notice she tugs at her pearl earring.
“Hello, Saxon. It’s lovely to see you again.” Her customary confident voice wavers slightly, giving away her nerves.
I noticed their exchange at the hospital was also a little awkward, but didn’t think much of it as I had other pressing matters to deal with, like trying to understand why my fiancé didn’t remember me. But now that I’m not swimming in tears, I recognize this display as Sophia being into Saxon. Not that I can blame her—he’s gorgeous.
I admire his ripped, muscled body, appreciating the way his tanned skin draws out the blond in his unkempt hair. His eyes are exceptional, the green swirling amongst different shades of blue and gray. But brilliant color aside, his eyes display a man with convictions.
His tattoos, which I’ve yet to fully make sense of, are vibrant and colorful, giving him that harder edge that Samuel lacks. Saxon is the quintessence of what a bad boy entails, and Samuel is, or used to be the total flip side of that coin.
I don’t realize I’m staring until Saxon’s lips twitch. The movement highlights the scar—another angle which screams revolt. I suddenly have an urge to run my finger over the smooth edges.
“Hey, Doc.” Samuel’s exact greeting for Sophia has me snapping out of my completely inappropriate and improper thoughts. I have no idea where they came from, but they need to go back there and never resurface ever, ever again.
I guiltily look over at Sam, who looks a little more like himself now that he’s shaved and thrown on an old basketball t-shirt. For once, I’m pleased he doesn’t acknowledge me, as he’s oblivious to my raging internal war.
“Hello, Samuel. How are you feeling?” Sophia asks, while I sneak over to Piper, who looks at me inquisitively.
“I’m fine,” he replies with a carefree shrug.
Sophia nods, her smile pleasant. “Lucy, may I use your study to conduct our session today?”
“Of course. Would you like me to show you where it is?”
Sophia’s smile never falters. “No, it’s okay. Samuel, I’m sure you can lead the way?”
I’m about to point out that Sam hasn’t ventured into that part of the house yet, but keep quiet as I know what she’s doing. It’s ingenious really.
The hesitation is reflected on Sam’s face for a split second before he pulls back his shoulders proudly and nods. No man, especially someone as proud as Sam, wants to admit defeat. She’s forcing him to revert back to those memories that are locked behind closed doors. They may stumble along the way, but that’s what she’s here for—to pick him up when he falls.
Sam looks in the direction of the hallway and then briefly at me. He’s asking for guidance and the gesture warms my heart. I nod with a small smile. He leads the way with Sophia following, but not before she sends a flirty smile Saxon’s way. It’s not in any way sleazy. It’s a subtle suggestion to show him that she’s interested. And by the way he smiles back, I dare say he’s interested too. I can’t help but think their kids would be freaking supermodels.
“The back pasture is looking a little overgrazed. Do you want me to move the cattle?”
Saxon’s kind offer reminds me that there are chores to do around here. My life has been put on pause, but it’s time to press the play button. “That would be great. Thank you. Take your pick of where you want to put them. Just mind the field with the red fencing. There’s a hole in the fence line.”
“No worries. If I’m staying a while, I better earn my keep.” His innocent comment has me beaming.
How long he’ll be here hasn’t really been discussed, and I didn’t want to presume. But now that he’s addressed the big fat elephant in the room, I couldn’t be happier. “Well, in that case, you can make dinner,” I tease, although I’m not kidding, as I hate cooking.
“Seems fair,” he replies with a grin. “I make a mean enchilada.”
I cock an eyebrow playfully. “Awesome, ’cause I have a mean appetite for Mexican. And it’s even meaner when I’m not cooking it.”
Saxon chuckles, shaking his head at my cheek. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”
The moment the backdoor closes, Piper curses. “That bitch.”
Of course I know who she’s talking about. I’m unable to wipe the smile from my face. “You have competition, my friend. And hot competition at that.”
“She’s not that hot,” she interjects, but scowls a moment later. “Okay, fine, she’s a freaking goddess, but she’s too stuck up for Saxon. I mean, look at him and look at her.”
That clears my smile as I was looking, perhaps too intently only minutes ago. “Looks like you’re just going to have to stay for dinner and show Saxon why you’re the better match.”
Piper pulls up her sleeves with determination. “Damn straight I will. You don’t mind if I hang around? I’ve got the day off work.” Piper manages The Gap at our local mall. She’s also studying interior design at the community college.
“Not at all. The past few weeks have been a nightmare. It’ll be nice to actually do normal things like feeding my horses and wash my car.” My sentence dies in my throat however when I realize I don’t have a car to wash. “Scrap that. My normalcy can commence after I find my car.”
As I reach for the phone, ready to call the police, Piper latches onto my wrist and smiles. “You’re a brave, strong woman, Lucy Tucker. Don’t ever forget it.”
“Thank you, Piper. And I’m not brave. I do what I have to to survive.” And there is no greater need for survival than right now.
* * * * *
“Would you look at that ass,” Piper dreamily coos. I don’t need to look up to see whose ass she’s gushing about.
I pat Potter along his mane while rubbing my cheeks along the bridge of his soft nose. I’ve missed my horses so much. Growing up, I was fortunate enough to own a couple of horses. I learned to ride early and it’s something I enjoy immensely to this day. There is something indescribable about jumping onto the back of a strapping beast and trusting one another completely. The freedom of running boundless is liberating. It was also my form of therapy. God knows I now need that therapy more than anything.
It’s coming up to twelve o’clock, and there’s still no sign of Sophia. I don’t know whether or not that’s a good or bad thing.
Piper’s inappropriate, but hilarious comments have kept me entertained, but at the back of my mind, I’m constantly thinking about Sam, and how his session is going.
“Do you think they’re identical all over? Inside and out?”
Piper’s odd question stops me in my tracks. “You’re not asking me what I think you’re asking me, are you?”
“That all depends.”
“On what?”
She continues staring at Saxon, who is bent over the broken fence, repairing a missing panel. “On if you’re talking about their dicks or not.”
I burst out laughing. Stroking Potter’s neck, I shake my head. “I’m not having this conversation with you, Piper.”
“And why not?” She finally turns to face me, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Because I don’t want to be talking about…Saxon’s junk.” I whisper the last two words, not wanting Saxon to overhear. My confession has me blushing.
She taps a finger against her lips, deep in thought. “Well, genetically speaking, Saxon’s junk should be identical to Sam’s. Therefore, it’s kind of like you telling me about Sam’s cock. So, I need details.”
I cover Potter’s ears, cackling loudly. “You are so inappropriate.”
“No, I’m curious about my future husband’s Mr. Happy, so quit holding out on me.” I know Piper and she won’t give up unless I tell her the gory details.
I guess she’s right. Sam’s bits are probably identical to Saxon’s, so it’s not like I’m envisioning Saxon’s junk as I describe how amazingly perfect it is.
For some unexplained reason, my gaze fixes on an unsuspecting Saxon, making this easier to explain. Licking my lips, I grin, feeling utterly wicked. “It’s big, like really big.”
“How big?” she asks, leaning against the railing and focusing on what I am.
“Big enough.”
Piper squeals while I shush her, not wanting Saxon to hear.
His sinewy body ripples in all the right places when he strikes a sledgehammer over his head and down onto the fencepost. A sheen of sweat coats my heated body, and I swallow.
“He’s so… elegantly long and thick.” I pause, my breathing mounting. “Sam’s not a hairy guy, but he has a perfect dark, soft scruff painting his bellybutton which leads…down. The curls highlight his toned V muscle. But the scruff, it’s groomed. It makes what he has so manly.”
My cheeks heat, my body trembles, and I’m absentmindedly biting my lip as I focus on Saxon. “When we have sex, Pipe, he knows all the right moves.”
“Holy shit,” she pants. “I think I just had a mini orgasm.”
“Me too,” I lazily reply, my eyes still rooted on Saxon as he wipes the sweat from his brow with his inked forearm. “I know I’m no expert on the matter, but I think it’s fair to say—” Piper shrieks “—everything is pretty damn perfect.”
Even though I’ve known Piper since I was twelve, I’ve always been quite reserved and shy when it comes to talking about my sex life. Compared to Piper’s sexual escapades, I guess mine was boring anyway. I’ve only ever had one partner, but that partner was more than enough. But talking about it now, it gives me a weird sense of sexual liberation.
I fan my cheeks, feeling an unfamiliar wave of…something pass over my body. At that precise moment, Saxon lifts his head. I’m pinned to the spot when he affixes those eyes on me and doesn’t let go.
I don’t know how he knows, but he knows what we’re talking about. His cocky, slanted smile reveals it.
“Luce, he is so hot.”
“I—” I suddenly stop myself. What am I saying? I know? No, I don’t know. It is highly inappropriate to be looking at my fiancé’s twin this way. Identical or not, I shouldn’t be checking him out, and that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.
Thankfully, Piper is too caught up in Saxon’s sex appeal to notice my guilt. But he isn’t. He watches me, a hand shielding his eyes from the bright sun as he cocks his head to the side. He wears the perfect poker face while I’m struggling to breathe.
The door slams shut and raised voices are not exactly the distraction I wanted, but it’s a distraction nonetheless. “Get out! You’re not welcome here anymore.”
I spin suddenly, my heart sinking when I see Samuel storming from the house. Sophia is following behind, her usual smile now replaced with a frown. I want to race after Samuel, but Piper latches onto my arm. “Leave him. If she can’t talk to him, then I doubt you’ll have any luck.”
She’s right. Every time I endeavor to console Sam, it blows up in my face. I can’t deal with another shit fit just yet.
I watch with interest as Sophia stops trailing after Sam and stops by Saxon’s side. I can’t hear what she’s saying, but I’m hoping its advice we can all use. Saxon nods, and she smiles.
I can’t take the suspense any longer, so I head over to where they stand. “Hi, Sophia. How’d it go?”
Her grim expression says it all. “It’s going to take time. Samuel is being extremely stubborn and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was in no hurry to remember.”
I can’t keep the disappointment from my face. I stare at the ground without a sound. “What happened?”
She sighs. “It’s always hard for someone to hear what happened to them. I told Samuel about the accident. He didn’t take it well.”
When I bite my lip, she reaches out to gently comfort me. “This is normal, Lucy. For the time being, I think it’ll be best you don’t mention the crash. For the sake of an argument, let’s leave detailing his accident for therapy. It’ll avoid him lashing out. He’s going to have his good days and he’s going to have his bad days. At the moment, it’s normal for the bad to outdo the good. Some days you’ll see a glimmer of who he once was. And others…” She doesn’t need to continue as I know what she’s trying to say. “I’ll be back same time next week if that suits you?”
I nod, my eyes still averted.
“I’ve spoken to Saxon about trying to help pull those memories from him. I think you were right, Lucy. If anyone can help Samuel break through those walls, it’s Saxon.” Her reassurance means nothing to me because it leaves me feeling like chopped liver.
She says her goodbyes and I hear Saxon’s boots crunch over the grass as he walks her to her car. Piper rubs my arm, but it’s no use. Every time I feel a little better, something a hundred times worse happens and brings me back down.
“I’m going to take a nap.” I know I’ve only been up for a couple of hours, but I’m suddenly dog tired.
Piper doesn’t argue and sympathetically nods. “I’ll bring in some tea.”
I don’t bother answering because the next thing from my mouth will be a heartbreaking sob.
I lumber up the stairs, suddenly needing my mom. As I shut the bedroom door, I pull out the cell from my pocket and dial her number.
“Honey, how are you?” Her sweet voice is an instant salve.
“Awful,” I reply. There is no point sugar coating my feelings because she’ll see straight through my lies.
“What’s happened?”
“Oh, just the usual. Sam still hates me and now he won’t even talk to Sophia.” I collapse onto the bed, stomach first.
“He doesn’t hate you.”
“Despises then.”
She turns off the water, as I think I’ve caught her in the middle of washing up. “This is normal, Lucy. The doctors have said this will take time.”
“I know, Mom. You’re right. It’s just so hard. I want to hug him, tell him how much he means to me, but I know if I do, I’ll be greeted with that blank, apathetic look. It kills me.”
She sighs; my pain is her pain too. “I think you have to put yourself in his shoes. This is all incredibly new for him. You may remember, but he doesn’t. Be patient. You know he’d do the same for you.”
She’s right.
“Do you want me to come over?”
“No, Mom, I’m okay. I think I’m just going to take a nap.”
“Okay, honey. You call whenever you need us. Someday, you’re going to look back and understand the reason why this happened. I love you.”
As I snuggle under the blankets and welcome sleep, I hope that “someday” comes soon.
* * * * *
When I wake, I know I’ve slept the day away. It’s now dark out and I feel even worse than when I cried myself to sleep.
I know I promised myself I wouldn’t cry, but when will this end? It’s only day two of Sam being home. How am I going to survive two more?
Rising slowly, I brush the matted hair from my eyes, looking around my deserted room. A room which once shared many happy memories is now filled with loneliness and despair. I suddenly have a desperate urge to move into the guest bedroom, but that won’t happen, seeing as Saxon is in the room that has a bed.
Thoughts of Saxon have me remembering my weird reaction toward him. Each moment spent with him, I’m beginning to see him as just Saxon, not Saxon, Sam’s identical twin. He’s becoming his own person and I’m afraid of how much I’m coming to rely on that being.
Kicking off the blanket, I take the plunge and swing my legs, placing my feet onto the cool floor. As I stand, my whining muscles scream in protest. I stretch overhead and crack my neck from side to side. The house is deadly quiet and I figure everyone is either asleep or out.
Reaching for my favorite yellow knitted pullover, I slip it on and decide to face the world and whoever is awake in it. My bare feet scuff over the floorboards as I amble down the hallway, in no real hurry to get to anywhere fast. The mouth-watering smells of chili con carne and refried beans linger in the air as I enter the kitchen, sending my sudden ravenous stomach into a frenzy.
Opening up the refrigerator, I see that Saxon made his Mexican feast after all. Too bad I was passed out and couldn’t enjoy it. The depressing thought makes me shut the door and have a glass of water instead.
Something shiny catches the iridescent moonlight as I stand in front of the window, downing my water. As I peer closer, a sense of relief surrounds me because I see that my Jeep is parked down the driveway. I know this was Saxon’s doing. Unlatching the backdoor, I step out onto the porch, drawing down the long sleeves of my pullover over my hands. There is a certain chill to the air, but that could just be my mood.
“Mornin’, Sleeping Beauty.”
“Sweet mother of Jesus!” I yelp, clutching a hand to my racing heart as I whip my head to the right. Saxon is sitting in a rocking chair, puffing away on a smoke.
“Sorry.” He smirks. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine,” I reply, still trying to catch my breath. When I think I can speak without wheezing, I ask, “Where’s everyone?”
“You just missed Piper, and the last I saw, Sam was chopping wood.” I cock an eyebrow, but he shakes his head and shrugs.
I exhale loudly and slump down into the chair next to him. “Any luck breaking through those walls?” My tone is mocking.
“Nope.” He pops the P. “Those walls are as hard as Sam’s head. That doctor is crazy if she thinks I have any hope helping Sam.”
Deciding to forget about Sam for the moment, I nudge him with my elbow playfully. “That doctor is sweet on you.”
“What?” he replies. I can’t decide if his expression is horror or disgust.
“Sophia’s got a thing for you. Please don’t tell me you haven’t noticed?” When he sits blankly, scratching his temple, I know the answer is no, he hasn’t noticed. “Are you blind?” I scoff. “She’s been making googly eyes at you since the first moment she met you.”
“Googly eyes?” he questions, scrunching up his face. “Is that chick codeword for something, because I have no idea what that means?” He takes a long drag of his cigarette.
I can’t help but laugh at Saxon’s adorability. “She’s been checking you out, or in guy codeword, she’s been eye…fucking you.”
His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip and I follow the movement, intrigued. “She’s okay, I suppose.”
“You suppose?” I chuckle, sitting higher in my chair. “She’s freaking gorgeous.” He shrugs, appearing unaffected.
Maybe I’ve misread the signs? But I’m sure there was chemistry there. There definitely was on her behalf. But by how unmoved Saxon currently is, maybe it’s a one-way street? The thought makes me snicker, and I don’t know why.
“Looks aren’t everything.”
“They sure are when they look like Sophia,” I rebuke, wanting to get a rise from him. Instead, I get honesty.
“She’s too smart for the likes of me.” He places his butt into the empty beer bottle beside him.
His comment makes me instantly forget my iniquity. “Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s the truth.”
“No, Saxon, it’s not,” I reply softly. “You’re incredibly smart. And incredibly kind, too.”
A gruff laugh explodes from his chest. “Kind? What a way to be put in the friend’s zone.”
We’re quiet for a moment, me mulling over his words.
“Maybe that’s my problem,” he reveals a moment later.
“What problem?” I ask, tucking my foot underneath me as I get comfortable.
“Why I’ve never had a serious girlfriend before.”
My mouth hangs open. Are the women of America blind?
“I don’t know if I should be offended or not by your stunned expression,” he mocks. “Do you think I’m some kind of manwhore? Actually—” he raises a finger “—don’t answer that. I’ve dated, and I use that term very loosely, plenty of women. Just none of them did it for me.”
I gulp as my curious mind wonders just how many women is “plenty of women.”
“Maybe you’ve been looking in the wrong places,” I suggest. I wish I’d kept my mouth shut however because it looks like I’ve just kicked a puppy.
He frowns, avoiding my eyes. “Maybe.”
I want to know more about Saxon, as I hope to uncover the truth about why he left Montana.
“Where did you go after you moved out?”
“Which time?” he asks, smirking.
“The first time,” I reply, wanting to go back to the beginning.
“The first time I moved out was when I turned eighteen. I moved in with Laura Rose.”
I can’t help but screw up my face in revulsion. “Laura Rose was…” But I pause, as the next word out of my mouth was surely going to be a curse word.
But Saxon reads my train of thought. “A tramp?” he offers, while I nervously pull at an imaginary thread on my jeans, not confirming or denying his claims.
“It’s okay, Lucy. We all know what she was. She knew what she was.”
“And yet you chose to move out with her. Why?” I ask, unable to hide my confusion.
He shrugs, reaching for the pack of Marlboros off the arm of his chair. Lighting another cigarette, he replies, “Even though I had my suspicions that instead of working she was cheating with the entire staff at McDonalds, it was better than living at home. And besides…” He smirks. “I didn’t have to put the hard yards in with her.”
I choke on air. Gathering my composure, I ask, “How long did it last?”
He chuckles, peering off into the distance as if remembering the time. “Not long. Six months, give or take.”
“I don’t remember you coming home. Where did you go after that?”
“I moved in with Pauly. I lived there for three years. Fun times,” he says, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “We used to jam in his shitty little garage. We thought we were the Rolling Stones.” He chuckles, revealing this memory as a fond one.
“I didn’t know you were in a band. What do you play?” I ask, thoroughly intrigued.
“I wouldn’t really call it a band. More like a clutter of noise,” he replies, tongue in cheek. “I played guitar and sung.”
“What? No way. Samuel has zero musical talent. I’ve heard him sing in the shower and honestly, I thought two cats were getting slaughtered in there.”
A graveled laugh leaves Saxon’s chest. “I never said I was any good.”
“I bet you are.”
He cocks his head to the side and the movement causes his hair to tumble forward, masking one eye. “How do you know that?”
“I just do. You’ve got this air of mystery to you. I bet that helped write songs.”
When he falls quiet, I kick myself, as I hope he doesn’t take offense. I’m thankful when a dimpled smirk touches his cheeks.
“Air of mystery, I like it. It’s better than an air of disappointment.” When his tone turns sour, it’s not hard to guess why.
Taking a deep breath, I hesitantly ask, “Why don’t you and Sam get along? I’m sorry to pry, but there’s got to be a reason. I know he was a jerk to you growing up, but there’s something more, isn’t there?”
“There is,” he confirms, his jaw clenched.
The fact he doesn’t elaborate is my hint that he’s not interested in sharing what that reason is. I don’t want to spoil this moment, so I don’t press. Saxon will hopefully trust me enough one day to tell me.
“That’s it?” he poses when I remain silent. “You’re not going to ask me why?”
“I could ask, but I doubt you’ll answer, so why waste my breath?” I reply smartly.
“You assume correctly,” he counters playfully.
Saxon is so easy to talk to. It makes me wish that we spoke more when we were growing up. But I guess we both lived our lives and followed the paths we thought were the right ones to take. It’s hard to imagine where we would be if Samuel and Saxon actually got along. But I’m a big believer that everything happens for a reason. I have to remind myself of that as I see a dark figure emerging from the barn.
My mood instantly dampens and I exhale deeply. Saxon reads the mood shift and offers me a smoke. I chuckle, but decline.
Sam looks exhausted and he also looks filthy. I have no idea what he’s been doing, and I don’t bother asking, in fear of getting my head bitten off.
“Hey.” Samuel addresses both Saxon and me. I smile, exultant he said hi.
“Hey,” Saxon replies, rocking back in his chair. “There’s food in the fridge if you’re hungry.”
“Starved. I could eat a horse.” He looks at me and smirks. I’m thankful he’s making jokes.
I’m desperate to ask him about his session today, but don’t. The way he’s lingering, it appears he wants to talk to Saxon alone.
Sighing, I stand, wishing he’d want to talk to me. “Well, I’m going to bed.” Even though I just crawled out of it twenty minutes ago.
Sam looks relieved, while Saxon looks up at me, disappointed. He doesn’t ask me to stay, however. “Goodnight, Lucy.”
“Night, Saxon. Goodnight, Samuel.” I’m hoping he’ll say he’ll join me soon. But he doesn’t.
“Night, Lucy.” There is no love behind his farewell. He’s more interested in bumming a smoke.
I fall into bed, mentally exhausted and drained. I wonder how long it’ll be until Sam comes to bed? Or the better question is, if he comes to bed?
Rolling onto my stomach, I reach for his silken pillow and inhale his familiar fragrance as I draw it up to my nose. His scent was one that used to comfort me, but now, it just underlines the reality that I’ve never felt more alone.
* * * * *
I can’t sleep.
Every time I fall into a restless slumber, I dream. And those dreams turn into nightmares.
The space beside me is empty, as Samuel has once again decided that he’d rather sleep anywhere but in my bed. Sick of this constant ache, I kick back the covers and decide to make myself a cup of cocoa. It always worked when I was a child, so I can only hope it’ll do so now.
As I slip into my robe, I hear the pipes whining as someone starts up the shower. Could it be Samuel?
Opening the door a sliver, I slip through and tiptoe to the bathroom. Light streams out from the ajar doorway, and I’m like a moth to a flame as I drift towards it. I don’t know what possesses me, but like a thief in the night, I take a deep breath before peeking inside.
It takes my eyes a while to adjust, as plumes of steam fill the guest bathroom, but when they do, I jump backwards and press my back to the wall. A freight train is speeding through my veins, my blood soaring loudly in my ears, my body tingling and betraying me because in that shower is not Samuel—it’s Saxon.
I need to turn away and go back the way I came, but I can’t. My feet act before my brain can keep up and before I know it, I’m flat to the wall, my face peering around the bathroom doorjamb. I’ve never seen another man nude before. And I feel sinfully wicked that that man is Saxon.
The mist masks my vision, but I can make out enough. Water trickles over his hardened body as he unknowingly lathers up a handful of soap. His back is turned—it’s golden and tanned and so very muscled.
The glass is caked with a thick fog, but when he turns to the side, I get a glimpse of a toned, firm ass. I never thought watching a man shower could be a turn on, but that was before I watched Saxon getting clean.
His hand slips lower as he begins washing over his stomach and down between his thighs. I instantly avert eyes, ashamed that I’m watching, but Piper’s comment today about Saxon’s junk has me curious. Is he identical to Sam—inside and out?
Knowing I’ll never have this opportunity again, I give in to my inquisitiveness and shyly continue watching. My eyes follow each lithe movement, mesmerized by each droplet kissing his glistening skin. I’m lost in this erotic vision and don’t realize what I’m seeing until it’s too late to turn away.
His arm begins moving in a distinct manner, slow at first as he leans his head back, his wet hair sticking to the slope of his neck. As the strokes get faster and faster, the clear sound of his hand working his shaft bounces off the white walls. Water sloshes in time with his frantic speed, and when he slams his palm against the tiles and leans forward, I too mimic his movement.
Even under the water spray, I can hear his primal grunts, and the sound does something it shouldn’t. I press my thighs together, hoping to suppress the tingle shooting all the way to my core. I’m with him every stroke of the way, watching in breathless anticipation, desperate to see how it ends.
His outstretched palm curls into a fist, hinting that he’s close. Piper’s comment plays loudly in my mind as I stand on tippy toes, desperate for one…little…look. He shifts and by some miracle, the fog clears and his glorious ass comes into full view. Its firm and shaped liked a peach. His dimples of Venus are perfectly symmetrical, just like the rest of him.
The frantic speed of his arm and his low, guttural moans has me biting my lip to mute my whimper. He suddenly turns to the left, and through the cloud of steam, I see his hand working his length madly. The sight of his strong hand wrapped around his thick, long, hard, very hard…cock, has me yelping and bashfully turning away.
My heart is galloping and I feel like I’ve just run a race. This is wrong, so very wrong.
What the hell am I doing?
I only saw him front on for two seconds, but it was two seconds too long. What I’ve just done hits home, and I race down the hall and into my room. It takes me minutes to calm my nerves and process what I just did. I’m appalling. No better than a peeping tom.
I crawl under my blankets, the comfort of cocoa long gone because I don’t deserve it. I’m trembling and it frightens me because I don’t know if I’m trembling in fear or excitement. Squeezing my eyes shut, I know another sleepless night is ahead of me. But somehow, I know if I dream, I’ll dream about the fact that Saxon and Samuel aren’t identical after all.