WES

“Hand me the eggs, will you, dear?” my mother asked.

“The what?” I was standing in front of the open fridge, but I’d completely zoned out. Happened to me all the time these days. I’d open a drawer, walk into a room, start a sentence, but then I’d see something or hear something or even smell something that would remind me of Hannah, and my body and mind simply froze, paralyzed by thoughts of her. I’d suddenly have no clue what I was looking for or trying to say.

“The eggs, dear.” Her tone was slightly exasperated. “I’ve asked you three times.”

“Oh. Sorry.” I pulled out the egg carton and set it on the counter where she was mixing up cake batter for Abby’s sixth birthday dinner tonight. It would be the first time Hannah and I saw each other in two weeks.

“What’s got you so addled these days?” she asked, eyeing me as I went back to the fridge, opened it up, and focused on taking out some lunchmeat for a sandwich.

“Nothing.” I pulled out turkey, lettuce, tomato, and mayonnaise, wishing she’d stop fucking asking me that question.

“Are you getting enough sleep? You’re working pretty long hours.”

“I’m fine, Mom.” The long hours were by choice, an attempt to distract myself from longing for Hannah, but it hadn’t worked. The memory of that night at her house assaulted me approximately every half a second. On my early morning jogs. While I was in the shower. As I drove to work. During my lunch break. Even when I was immersed in caring for patients, she was always there at the back of my mind, a spectral presence with messy hair and bare feet and soft lips and warm skin, kissing me, touching me, inviting me inside her. And the things she’d said—every time I remembered hearing those words in her sweet, breathless voice, heat rose in my body and I’d have to loosen my tie.

I want you to fuck me.

I want all of you.

I want to come for you.

Come with me.

I want to feel it.

Jesus Christ, I had gone off like a rocket. And not a small rocket either. One of those deep space rockets. A fucking NASA-level rocket. A mission to Mars. I still couldn’t believe I’d done it. Sometimes I wondered what the hell was in those beers I’d drunk. Other times I supposed it had nothing to do with my blood alcohol level and everything to do with the fact that I’d wanted her for way too long. Even a gentleman runs out of patience sometimes.

But I was beginning to think I wasn’t much of a gentleman anyway.

“When will you hear back from Brad?” my mother asked.

“He said in the next day or so,” I said, realizing I’d been standing there dumbstruck in front of the toaster with two slices of bread in my hand. I stuck them in. “By Monday for sure.”

I’d made an offer on a house just north of town. It wasn’t perfect, needed new flooring and paint and a kitchen remodel, but it was a good size, right on the lake, and nicely secluded. Best of all, it was not walking distance from my parents’ house, at least not for them. And I needed some projects to keep me busy anyway.

“You know, there’s no rush to move out.” She cracked the eggs into the bowl and tossed the shells into the sink. “If that house isn’t what you want, you can stay here as long as you want.”

“I know, Mom. Thanks.” What I wanted was something I couldn’t have. Didn’t really matter where I lived.

That said, I needed some fucking privacy. My mother had even taken to coming into my room while I was at work and collecting my dirty laundry, putting it through the wash, and returning it to my drawers, all folded up in neat little piles. She packed my dad a lunch every day and insisted on packing me one too. She fussed over me constantly, worried I was exercising too hard, working too much, and had no social life whatsoever. I tolerated it because I loved her and knew she loved me, but damn, she could be overbearing.

When my sandwich was done, I sat at the island to eat it and listened to her babble over the whir of the electric mixer, but I mostly tuned her out and thought about Hannah.

I’d gone over our conversation that night a thousand times. Had I been wrong? Had she been telling the truth when she said it had been about Drew for her? I racked my brain, searching for any clue I might have missed in her behavior, in her voice, in her eyes. But I couldn’t find one. She’d wanted me. She’d said my name. She’d held onto me so tight, like she never wanted to let go.

Or was that wishful thinking? Maybe she had been thinking of Drew the whole time. Maybe the panic attack had stemmed from the realization of what she’d done, from the guilt and shame of dishonoring his memory. Maybe she really had given in just because she was lonely and I was a safe opportunity, like she’d said before.

Good old Wes. A safe opportunity fuck. But nothing more.

* * *

After a long run on the beach that afternoon, I took a shower, got dressed, and poured myself some scotch. It had been a beautiful late summer day, and the temperature was still in the upper sixties at five o’clock. I took my drink out onto the deck and stood looking out at the lake, which always had a calming effect on my nerves. The house I’d offered on didn’t have a deck, but I planned to remedy that if the purchase went through. I wanted bigger windows on the east side too, but that might have to wait a while.

Behind me, I heard the sliding door rumble open and shut. I thought maybe it was my dad joining me with a stiff drink of his own (away from my mother’s watchful eyes), so I was surprised when I heard Hannah’s voice.

“Hi.”

I turned, and my heart beat faster at the sight of her. “Hi.”

She wandered to my side, a glass of white wine in her hand and. “Want company?”

“Sure.” I brought my glass to my lips, but it was Hannah I drank in. Her hair swung loose around her shoulders tonight. She didn’t often wear it down, and I saw now how summer had dusted the brown with gold. My stomach muscles tightened—she was still the prettiest woman I’d ever seen. Her shoulders were on display in the top she wore, and I was dying to press my lips to one of them. She had perfect shoulders. Why hadn’t I kissed them when I had the chance?

“How’ve you been?” she asked. She was nervous, I could tell.

“Fine,” I said, using our code word for not fine at all. “You?”

She turned to face the lake. Took a sip of wine. “Fine.”

Conversation in the kitchen drifted through the screen, and I selfishly hoped no one would come out here. I wanted her to myself just a few minutes more. “Been busy?”

“Not really. I hear you offered on a house.”

“Yes. It needs some work, but it’s a nice place.”

“When will you know?”

“Soon. Monday at the latest.”

“Fingers crossed for you.”

“Thanks.”

Silence descended upon us, bringing with it a crushing disappointment. This was it. Or, rather, that was that. What we’d had was all we ever would, and it was pointless—no, idiotic to feel like I’d lost something. She’d never been mine to lose.

Suddenly I was angry. Why was I still carrying this torch for her? What was the fucking point? I swirled my scotch around in my glass and tossed the rest of it down my throat.

Then she spoke, and my life changed course.

“I lied to you.”

“What?”

“That night. You said it wasn’t about Drew for you, and I said it was for me.” Finally she faced me. Her terrified eyes were shiny. “But I lied.”

“Hannah.” I took her by the arm.

“Oh God, Wes,” she whispered, struggling not to cry. “I shouldn’t have said anything. That wasn’t the plan. But seeing you is just—I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” I swallowed hard. “And I still want you.”

“Don’t.” She took a step back and pulled her arm from my grasp. “Don’t say things like that. ”

“It’s the truth. No, it’s a fraction of the truth.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“How we feel doesn’t matter?”

“It can’t.” She refused to meet my eyes, looking frantically around the deck. “There are too many complications.”

Suddenly Abby came running out onto the deck. “Mommy!” She threw her arms around Hannah’s thighs. “Nana says I can open my gifts before dinner if you say it’s okay. Is it?”

Hannah looked down at her daughter and pulled herself together with a delicate sniff. “How about, ‘Hi, Uncle Wes?’”

The little girl looked up at me sheepishly. “Hi, Uncle Wes.”

“Hi, princess.” I patted her head and hoped my voice sounded normal. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you. So can I, Mommy? Please?”

“Don’t you want to wait until we have cake and ice cream?”

“No.”

My mother emerged from the house. “Abby, darling, you need to close the door so Nana doesn’t get flies in the house.” She slid it shut behind her.

“Sorry, Nana,” Abby said.

“Ooh, what a nice night,” my mother said as she approached us. “Abby, what did Mommy say?” But she wasn’t looking at Abby. Her curious eyes were darting back and forth between Hannah and me.

I put a little more distance between us and prayed she wouldn’t pick up on the tension.

“It’s fine,” Hannah said.

“Yay!” Abby let go of her mother and raced back inside, leaving the door open, of course.

My mother sighed and followed her into the house, pausing to look back at us. “Coming, you two?”

In a minute, I wanted to say. I needed more time to convince Hannah that our feelings mattered, that we deserved a chance, that I could make her happy. But she was already escaping me, following Abby into the house.

Not that I blamed her—her daughter came first, and I understood that she always would. And I wanted to watch her open gifts too; I’d gotten her a snow cone machine like Drew and I’d had when we were kids.

He should be here, I thought as I went inside. He should be here to watch his daughter open birthday gifts and walk to get ice cream and keep his wife from being lonely. It should be him and not me, and I know it.

But he wasn’t here. I was. And if the situation were reversed, if I were gone, and he were alive and had these feelings for the wife I’d left behind, wouldn’t he do everything he could to be with her? He’d never stepped aside in his life. That had always been my talent.

But things could change. People could change.

And I wasn’t about to let her go again without a fight.

* * *

Dinner was torture. I could hardly finish my plate, and I barely said a word. Twice during the meal my mother asked me if I was all right. Hannah was seated directly across from me, and both times, she and I exchanged a look before I assured my mother I was fine.

After cake and ice cream, I helped my mother with the dishes while my dad and Hannah began putting together the huge dollhouse my parents had given Abby.

“What were you and Hannah talking about on the deck?” my mother asked, handing me a platter to be dried.

“The house, mostly.”

“Oh? It looked like a very intense conversation.”

“It wasn’t,” I lied, and changed the subject.

When the dishes were done, I told my mom I needed some air and went down to the beach. Dropping onto the sand, I draped my arms over my knees and looked out at the water. Am I wrong? What would you have done, Drew? If you were me, and you loved Hannah too, what would you have done?

I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, my brother was sitting beside me.

“Dude,” he said. “You know the answer.”

“Do I?”

“Of course you do. You knew me better than anyone. If I wanted something, I went after it.”

“True.” For a moment, I said nothing, watching the waves as I considered my next statement. “How could you ever have wanted someone else?”

He was silent.

“How could you do that to her?”

“I don’t know. I fucked up. Everyone makes mistakes.”

I knew that, but it didn’t help. “You had everything, Drew. Everything.”

“Maybe I didn’t deserve it.”

I frowned, unwilling to go that far.

“But you do, Wes. You’ll be good to her.”

“I would,” I whispered.

“But you can’t fuck this up. It’s Hannah we’re talking about. And Abby too.”

“Abby.” My heart swelled.

“They need you. And I trust you to love them both the way they deserve to be loved, Wes—enough for both of us. Can you do that?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“Good. Because there’s no one else on earth I trust more.”

“Are you sure I haven’t…broken some sacred bond between us?”

“I’m sure. Now get out of your head. And get Hannah out of hers, too. Life is short, brother. Go live it.”

“I will. I want to.”

“And for fuck’s sake, get out of Mom and Dad’s house already. What are you, twelve?”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

“Good. I’ll be around, but only when you need me.”

“Thank you.” I looked at the empty sand next to me. “For everything.”

By the time I went back up to the house, Hannah was gone, my dad was sitting in his chair with a crossword puzzle, and my mother was following Abby up the stairs.

“I get to stay here again!” Abby shouted. “Can we make snow cones in the morning?”

“Sure,” I told her, watching them disappear at the top of the stairs. When they were out of sight, I grabbed my keys from the kitchen counter. I’d waited ten years to do this.

It was now or never.

“I’m gonna go for a drive,” I told my dad. “Maybe meet Pete for a beer.”

He didn’t even look up. “What’s a synonym for gossamer? Eleven letters, starts with a T-R-A and ends with a T.”

I thought for a second. “Transparent?”

He nodded. “That’s it.”

* * *

Hannah’s house was dark and silent as I strode up the front walk to the porch, my heart pounding frantically. Before I could even knock, the door opened.

My breath stopped.

She wore a little white slip of a nightgown that seemed to glow in the moonlight. Her hair hung in soft waves I wanted to bury my face in.

“Wes,” she said, her eyes begging me. “Please.”

“Can I come in?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Her lower lip trembled. “Because. I don’t trust myself to be alone with you.”

“Please, Hannah. I have to talk to you.”

“No, Wes. There can’t be anything between us.”

“There’s already something between us.”

She didn’t deny it. “Even if there is, we can’t act on it. And the more we agonize over it, the worse it will feel.”

“Nothing will ever feel worse to me than walking away from you without telling you how I feel. I did it once before, and it was the biggest mistake of my life.”

Her face registered shock. "What do you mean?”

"I mean that I've always wanted you. From the moment I saw you, only I was too chicken shit to do anything about it. I didn't know what to say or how to say it. I just knew you were the most perfect girl I’d ever met, and I would have done anything to be with you."

She closed her eyes in agony. “Wes. My God.”

"I lost my chance with you then, and maybe I deserved to, for being too scared to speak up and tell you how I felt. Maybe I deserved to watch you fall in love with my brother instead of me. But maybe it just wasn't our time then. Maybe it’s our time now.”

Her eyes opened slowly. They were wet with tears.

“Tell me you feel nothing for me, Hannah, and I’ll go. Tell me you could never be happy with me. Tell me I could never be what you want.”

“I can’t.” Her voice quivered.

She hadn’t invited me in, but that didn’t stop me from crossing the threshold and taking her face in my hands. “Then let me love you, the way I’ve always wanted to.”

A tear slipped down one cheek. “People will talk. People will say it’s wrong.”

“Fuck people. This is between you and me.”

“I’m scared.” Her voice was soft and plaintive.

“I know you are. But there’s nothing to be scared of, I promise.”

“There is,” she insisted, but her body swayed toward mine.

“Say the word,” I whispered, rubbing a thumb over her soft, full lips. “Say you want me, and I’m yours.”

The three seconds she took to answer me were the longest of my life. “I want you, Wes. I want you to love me.”

I wasted no time.

Kicking the door closed behind me, I scooped her up in my arms and carried her up the stairs, her white nightgown luminous in the dark.

Inside her bedroom, I set her on her feet, lifted the nightgown from her body, and stripped off the panties she wore beneath it. Then I picked her up again and lay her on the bed. Both of us were breathing hard.

“Wait,” she said as I whipped my shirt over my head. “The lamp on my nightstand. Turn it on.” She propped herself up on her elbows. “I want to see you.”

I switched on the lamp, and the room brightened a little. My eyes devoured her sun-kissed limbs, her pale breasts, the hunger in her dark, glittering eyes. I undressed quickly, and she bit her bottom lip as she watched. When I was naked in front of her—naked in front of Hannah, Jesus Christ—she sat up and moved to the edge of the bed.

“Come here.” She grabbed my hips and pulled me toward her, opening her knees so that I stood between them. Then she looked up at me with hooded eyes. “I want to taste you.”

Next thing I knew, she had my cock in her hands and her mouth was descending on it, inch by inch. I groaned as her tongue stroked over the crown in slow, rhythmic circles. She sucked as she took me in deeper, keeping one hand wrapped tightly around the base. The other one moved around my hip to grab my ass and pull me in deeper.

Oh, fuck.

I gathered her hair in my hands and watched as my cock disappeared into her hot, tight mouth again and again. She made little murmuring noises that weakened the muscles in my legs and strengthened my grip in her hair. When she looked up at me and saw me watching her, she slowed down. Slid her lips slowly up my shaft and over the head, pulling me from her mouth completely and pressing a kiss on the tip. Then she dipped her head to one side and ran her tongue from the base all the way up to the crown, smiling at the sound I made, which was something between a moan of agony and a moan of pleasure. She repeated the long, slow stroke up my hard length on the other side, and then again right in the center, before taking me into her mouth again, all the way to the back of her throat. Goosebumps blanketed my lower body, and I knew I’d better stop her before I lost control.

“Hannah.” I pulled back, springing free from her lips with a little pop. “You need to stop.”

“Why?” She looked up at me with shiny lips.

“Because it’s my turn.” Letting go of her hair, I reached under her arms and moved her backward onto the bed, then gently pushed her shoulders down so she lay on her back. I knelt between her thighs, looking down at her. “Christ, you’re beautiful.”

She smiled, and it stirred a memory in me. Falling forward onto my hands, I kissed her lips, delighting at the eager sweep of her tongue against mine, the way she arched her back to get closer to me, the fingers she threaded through my hair. It was unbelievable. She wants me. She wants me to love her. Something in me opened up, and words I’d kept dammed for years began to flow.

“Do you know,” I said, moving my lips down her sweet-smelling neck, “how much I love your smile?” I kissed her shoulder, her collarbone, the hollow at the base of her throat. “It was the first thing I noticed about you. The way you could light up a room.”

“Was it?”

“Mmhm.” I moved lower, planting a row of kisses straight down her sternum, stopping to rub my lips back and forth between her breasts. “Then it was those huge, dark eyes, surrounded by the longest, prettiest eyelashes I’d ever seen.” When I picked up my head, I saw how her nipples had stiffened into little rosy peaks. I circled one with the tip of my tongue, and she arched even more.

“And your voice.” I moved to the other one, although she made a little noise of frustration that I hadn’t given her what she wanted. “I’d listen to you sing and talk and laugh, and imagine what it would be like to hear you speak to me softly in the dark.”

“Just like this,” she said, her voice breathless and dulcet, just a little bit rusty with need.

“Just like this.” I closed my lips over one breast, and she moaned, her hands tight on my head, holding my mouth to her body. I sucked hard and bit lightly, and she gasped and bucked beneath me. When I brought my mouth to the other, I moved one hand between her legs, slid my fingers easily inside her.

But it wasn’t enough. Slowly I dragged my mouth down her body until my head was right between her thighs. “Sometimes I imagined what you’d taste like.” I pushed her legs farther apart and kissed one soft, smooth inner thigh, then the other. “But I shouldn’t tell you that.”

“Tell me,” she begged.

“I imagined you’d taste like the vanilla ice cream you used to make.” I licked my way up the center of her pussy, and her entire body shuddered. I circled her clit with my tongue, and she cried out. I sucked it gently into my mouth, and she lifted her hips, pushing closer. “Hmm, I was wrong.”

She went still. “What?”

I licked her again. “You’re sweeter.” And again. “Warmer.” And again. “More addictive.”

She laughed, but it melted into something more plaintive and impatient as I devoured her even more greedily than I had in my fantasies.

“Oh God, I’m gonna come,” she whimpered, her hands clawing at the sheets, her hips rocking beneath my mouth. “It’s too good, too good, don’t stop…”

Was she fucking kidding? I was never going to stop trying to consume her this way, desperate to get my fill, as if I had to make up for lost time. Never, I vowed as she cried out, her clit throbbing against my tongue, the rest of her body going still.

I kept going until she sat up and pushed me away, then reached under my arms and tried to yank me on top of her. “Please,” she begged.

She didn’t need to beg—I was desperate for her. It had only been two weeks, but this felt so different, almost like we’d never done it before. Last time was all about gratifying a physical need, finally answering the question, What would it be like to be with you? This was something else entirely—a beginning. A fresh start.

I moved up her body and she hooked her legs around mine. My heart raced as I looked down at her. “Hannah. We should be careful this time.”

She made a small, frustrated sound. “You’re right. We should. But I don’t have anything, do you?”

I shook my head. Fuck! “I wasn’t thinking of this on my way over. I wasn’t even sure you’d let me in.”

“I wasn’t going to.” She brought her hands to the sides of my face. “Did you mean all the things you said downstairs?”

“Of course I did.” Braced on my elbows above her shoulders, I rocked my hips over hers, sliding my cock along her slick, wet heart.

She closed her eyes. “That feels so good.”

It did feel good, but the body wants what it wants, and soon the skin-to-skin friction wasn’t enough.

“Just do it,” she said breathlessly. “I need you inside me again, Wes. Even it it’s only for a minute. We’ll be fine. We were fine the last time.”

“Just for a minute,” I whispered as I reached down and slipped the tip of my cock inside her. “I won’t come inside you.”

“Okay.” She turned her head to the side as I pushed all the way in. “Yes,” she breathed. “Right there. God, it’s so deep.”

I was completely buried inside her, and the expression on her face was one of torment. “Am I hurting you?”

“Yes.” She looked up at me. “But I love it. It’s a beautiful kind of pain.”

I brushed her hair back from her forehead, the fierce urge to protect her clutching at my heart. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You aren’t. You’re making me feel alive again, Wes.” She moved beneath me, her body undulating in a way that had me hanging onto control with the barest of thread. She picked up her head and whispered in my ear. “Don’t leave me.”

Her words were as arousing as her body, and I had to move, had to claim her for my own. I watched pain turn to pleasure on her face, filling me with an intoxicating sense of power and possession.

Finally, she was mine.

I took her arms and put them over her head, pinning her wrists to the mattress. “Come for me,” I demanded, fucking her deep and hard with tight little thrusts. “Now that you’re mine, come for me.”

“Yes!” she cried out, her eyes locked on mine. She tried to get her arms loose, but I held her fast.

“I want you to come, Hannah. Now. Now!” I ordered, terrified she wouldn’t come before I had to pull out, which was in about five more seconds. But she did—I recognized the high-pitched, wavering cry that echoed the pulse inside her, watched the flush overtake her face, and felt her body contracting around mine. She was so fucking beautiful, and she was mine. It was my name she had whispered in the dark, my body bringing her to this state of divine madness, my love she had asked for. I’d never forget the sound of her voice saying those words.

I want you to love me.

I want you to love me.

I want you to love me.

Oh, fuck.

I yanked myself out of her body without a second to spare and fisted my cock, leaning back on my knees and fucking my hand until I came in hot, rhythmic bursts all over my chest.

When it was over, I realized Hannah had been watching me.

“Wow.” She was propped up on her elbows, her eyes wide.

I grimaced as my heart continued to race. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t exactly a romantic ending.”

“It was to me,” she said. “Because you put me first.”

“I’ll always put you first.”

She smiled, although it almost looked a little sad to me.

“You don’t believe me?”

Her eyes fell. “Sometimes I have a hard time with words like always.”

Of course she did. My heart felt heavy. “Maybe I can change your mind about them.”

She looked up again, her smile a little more hopeful. “Maybe you can.”