The next evening, I’m walking down the hall with my overnight bag in hand. Mary is right next to me; Lachlan is in front of me. His back is facing me and he’s talking to Dr. Rutledge.
I revert back to teenage Naomi. The one that turns red around him. Whose lips split into a ridiculously bright smile while her heart flips wildly in her chest.
Dr. Rutledge looks over Lachlan’s shoulder at me. Her brows lift and she smiles. “Good morning, Naomi.”
Lachlan turns and looks at me. He gives me a one-sided grin. I think my heart just dropped down to my stomach.
He’s dressed in a simple pair of jeans, dark blue shirt and a brown jacket. He looks so relaxed and at ease. He’s never looked sexier. “Look at you,” he says and reaches to take my bag.
“I know. Can you believe it?” I lift up my foot. “I have laces on my shoes.”
Mary actually laughs. Holy shit. Who knew she had a drop of humor inside of her. But in all seriousness, putting on clothes—that weren’t sweats—and wearing shoes, makes me feel as if a piece of myself is clicking right back into place.
Lachlan’s grin stays in place as his eyes sweep me from head to toe. There’s a heavy sense of anticipation in my stomach because the minute we walked out the front doors he would be all mine. There would be no nurses checking up on us, or telling him that it was time to go.
I pull my eyes away from him and glance at Dr. Rutledge. “Am I good to go?”
She holds a clipboard between us. “You just have to sign off on a few papers.” She puts it on the counter next to me and hands me a pen.
I scan the contents on the page quickly. It’s basically a sign out form saying that I, as the patient, or the guardian of the patient, understand what a weekend pass entails.
I glance at Dr. Rutledge. “I don’t need my parents’ signature?”
She clears her throat and looks over my shoulder at the paperwork. “No. It’s a weekend pass,” she says quietly. “I just need your signature.”
I wasn’t going to challenge her. I quickly scribble my name on the bottom of the paper and step back. I shift my feet and stare at Dr. Rutledge.
“That’s it,” she says happily. “Have a fun weekend, Naomi.” Lachlan and I walk out the door. I take a deep breath of the fresh air. I scan the cars in the parking lot. There are high piles of snow in the corner of the parking lot from the snowplow. Salt is peppered along the sidewalk to prevent falling. And I’m glad, because today I’m so excited and anxious to get out of here I would’ve run ahead to Lachlan’s car and busted my ass.
I put one foot in front of the other, reminding myself that I need to look like a normal person. One that walks outside and interacts with people in the real world daily. I look over at Lachlan. His walk is confident. Shoulders straight. Chin slightly lifted, daring anyone to step in his way.
When I get into his car I breathe into my hands as we wait for the car to warm up. Lachlan places a warm hand on my thigh and smiles at me. “Are you ready?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good,” he says and pulls out of the parking spot. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
He pulls out onto the road and presses the gas.
The temptation to turn in my seat and wave at Fairfax is strong, but if I do, my gaze will wander to the ghost of myself staring longingly outside, putting another tally on the window. So I stare straight ahead as the dry, frozen over grass flies past us.
“You might as well relax; it’s a two-hour drive to my house,” Lachlan says.
“How do you expect me to relax?” I wave my hand around. “I haven’t been in a car in months. I need to take everything in! Today’s been pure torture. I sat in the rec room the whole day, staring at the clock.”
“If it makes you feel any better, there’s a pile of paperwork on my desk because I couldn’t concentrate. I ended up leaving work an hour early.” Lachlan gives me such a raw, personal smile, I almost clutch my chest in pain. “But if you want to keep looking around, then by all means… don’t let me interrupt.”
“Nah.” I shift in my seat. “Tell me about your house.”
“What do you want to know?”
“What’s it like?”
He shrugs. “It’s a house.”
“Come on,” I coax. “Give me your best description.”
“It’s small. Two bedrooms, one bathroom. There’s a small kitchen and living room. The carpet is outdated, along with the appliances, but I like it.”
“Did you decorate?”
He gives me a look that says, ‘What do you think?’
I grin and watch as dusk paints the sky.
We take the highway, bypassing McLean. I watch my hometown fly past me from my window and it looks like a blur of lights. I should probably feel some pull to the town I grew up in, but I don’t. The only pull that I have is the memories with Lana. Those memories tug at my heart, screaming at me that Lana is out there. Maybe not in McLean, but somewhere close.
We turn here and there and the two-hour drive flies by and soon we’re driving into the outskirts of Charlottesville. We stop by a fast food restaurant and order greasy food that makes my stomach rumble.
“We’re almost there,” Lachlan says.
“It’s okay,” I reassure him. “I’m having fun.”
“Just sitting in a car?”
I shrug and sneak a few French fries. “I’m getting a glimpse at your new life in this town.”
“I’m still adjusting,” Lachlan admits. “But it’s nice having no one know your name.” He looks over at me. “You’d love it.”
“If I ever get out of Fairfax,” I murmur.
“You will,” Lachlan says firmly.
We drive out of the city. Cars start to become sparse and the road becomes smaller and more compact. Lachlan has to slow down to avoid the potholes. Excitement courses through my veins when Lachlan pulls onto a gravel driveway. It started to snow when we left Charlottesville. The headlights illuminate the frozen grains, making them look like millions of snowflakes dancing in the air.
The ride up his driveway is rough. I jostle around in my seat and grab the handle above my head and hang on.
“You drive up and down this daily?”
“Yep.”
“How does your car even have shocks?”
“It’s just a little bumpy,” Lachlan argues.
I shoot him a look.
“Okay…” he says slowly. “It’s really bumpy. But I’ll get it fixed soon.”
A moment later he parks the car. I stare at the house in front of us. “So this is your house.”
It is small. White paint is chipping on the side. A small porch with just a broom leaning against the side of the house. There’s no grandeur. No over-the-top design. It is the exact opposite of how we grew up.
I couldn’t love it more. It reminds me of the cottage out in the woods.
Lachlan tilts his head, giving me a boyish smile that reminds me of the fifteen-year-old boy I fell in love with. “This is it. Does it meet your expectations?”
My opinion matters to him. And even as a kid it had mattered. That’s what makes Lachlan my safety net—I will always matter to him.
“Of course! I love it.”
We both get out of the car. He goes to the trunk and grabs my bag. “What made you choose this place?” I ask.
He slings my bag over his shoulder and grabs my hand. We walk to his house, side by side. “Small. Surrounded by solitude. What’s not to love?”
We stomp the snow away from our shoes as we walk across the porch. Lachlan unlocks the front door and flips the light on next to the door.
There’s a small entryway that leads directly into the kitchen. Probably one of the smallest kitchens I’ve seen, with old appliances the color of avocado.
He drops his keys on the counter and wordlessly guides me to the living room. It’s the biggest room in the house. There is just a beige rug, with a brown leather couch, chair and end table designed around it and a television in the corner. The last piece of decoration is a dozen boxes shoved against the wall.
I point at the boxes. “I love the way you’ve decorated the place.” Lachlan leans against the wall and grins. “It took me a long time.”
I walk forward, looking at each piece of furniture. “I can tell.”
“Tell me, Interior Decorator Naomi, what would you do differently?”
“Well, for one thing, I would put curtains up.” I point to the bay window. “And they would be lace curtains. I would paint the walls a pale yellow. I would keep the rug you have now. Hang some pictures up. Find some beautiful flowers and I would make sure that the bay window was filled with pillows, so I could relax and stare outdoors any time I wanted.”
“That sounds like a lot of work.”
For him, yes. But if I lived with him, I would do it myself and I would do it with the biggest smile on my face.
“You’re thinking,” Lachlan says.
I correct him, “I’m imagining.”
“Same thing.”
He walks into the kitchen. I hear cabinets open and close. “I knew you would love this place,” he calls out.
I follow Lachlan. “You did?”
He grabs two plates and fills them up with food.
“Of course,” he says absently. “The realtor showed me the house and when I saw the bay window I remember you talking about that as a kid.”
“So technically this house is half mine,” I tease.
Lachlan hands me my plate. I try to take it away. Lachlan keeps his grip. He won’t let go until I look at him. When I finally do, I see the intense look in his eyes.
“Half yours? It’s all yours.”
I just stare at him. He isn’t lying.
“Come on,” Lachlan says. “Let’s eat in the living room.”
We sit in companionable silence and eat our food.
“Are you excited to be out of there?” he asks.
“I can’t believe it,” I confess. “There’s no 20-minute outside breaks. Or a nurse knocking on your door every hour on the hour. I don’t have to hear the constant sound of voices outside my door, and I don’t have to sleep in that terrible room. Plus, the food is much, much better.”
“Yeah?” he asks with a small grin.
I nod. “Burned meatloaf and runny mac and cheese are about as good as it gets there.”
Lachlan swallows. “Does everyone eat together?”
“Mostly. Unless you’ve done something wrong. Then you eat in your room.”
Beneath his slanted brows, his eyes turn hard. I know I’ve said too much. He’s thinking about Fairfax. I’m thinking about Fairfax and I don’t want to. His house was a place that was free from all the dark things looming over me. It should stay that way.
I want to take my words back and start over. I look down at my food, suddenly not feeling hungry at all. I stand up and walk back to the kitchen, putting my plate on the counter. When I walk back into the living room, Lachlan stares straight at me with confusion. I stare at him for a second before I turn off the lights. Slowly making my way to the large window, I cross my arms and stare outside.
Lachlan’s house sits on a hill. From here, I can see the lights of the city flickering bright. I picture people inside their houses, all relaxed and calm. It puts me at peace. It makes me want to stay right here forever.
“What are you doing?” Lachlan asks.
I tap my nail against the glass. “Looking at the view.”
“With the lights off?”
“It’s the best way to see.”
If I was at Fairfax, I wouldn’t see this picture in front of me and I wouldn’t feel this way. Right now, if I want to, I can reach out and touch and experience the world I’m looking at.
Lachlan scoots his chair back. I hear his footsteps and drawers opening and shutting.
Snick. Snick.
It’s a familiar sound that makes my heart speed up.
It takes only seconds for an amber glow to light the room. I look over my shoulder and see Lachlan holding a match in between his fingers. Not a lighter. But a simple matchbook. Just like the ones we used to light off fireworks.
He smirks at me mischievously. His eyes glow brightly from the flame. There is enough heat in his eyes to make me swallow loudly.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Playing with fire.” He jerks his wrist and the fire dies out. “I’m trying to lighten the mood.” His deep voice is closer and my heart starts to speed up. “Remember you used to always blow the matches out?”
“I remember,” I say softly.
I look at the open living room and in the dark I picture all the furniture gone. The wood floor drops out and is replaced with fresh, green grass. Two young people appear. Their heads are bent, backs bowed as they huddle together. Their lips move rapidly. I can’t hear them. And I don’t need to. Their words are seared into my brain. I watch with rapt attention as the boy says, “I got one more firework. Wanna light up the sky?” He holds a match in between them.
And the girl nods and smiles at him. Her heart shines in her eyes. He hands her the match. She takes it.
I close my eyes. When they open, Lachlan has a lit match in his hands. The boy and girl are gone. Furniture is back in place. Those two people have evolved. That girl can now act out her feelings. And that guy still smirks at her but his eyes are white hot.
Something settles deep inside me. It spreads throughout me, making my blood hum, and my body tingle. Lachlan keeps walking until I’m pressed up against the window. The cold glass on my back and his body warming me from the front. I tilt my head back to look at him. He lifts a single brow, daring me not to touch him. That’s the last thing I see before he blows out the match.
I know this is a little game that was meant to lighten the mood, but now a sexual tension has filled the room. I know Lachlan isn’t done and I know he won’t be done until I’m practically a puddle on the floor.
His cheek brushes against mine. I hear the match drag against a coarse surface. My hands curl into fists against my thighs. My fingernails sink into my palms, creating crescent moon indents.
The match is the one thing keeping us separated. It lights up his features. His lips are sensuous and his eyes are brilliant. The stubble on his face looks almost golden.
“You’re perfect,” I say very quietly.
Lachlan tilts his head and smirks. “No, I’m not. It’s just the lighting.”
“You are,” I insist.
He brushes his hand across my throat. My pulse jumps wildly against my skin.
“You wanna know how you look right now?”
I nod.
I thought he would blow out the match, but he doesn’t. He brings the match close to my face, going over every feature slowly.
“Your eyes are bright. The fire almost makes them look violet. Your cheeks are red. And all that blonde hair looks golden”—his hand drags through my hair—“hanging around your shoulders. And your lips are wet and slightly parted.” A single finger grazes my lip. “If I move my face just an inch closer, I could suck on that bottom lip…” And right when I think he’s going to do just that, the room goes black.
His hand drops from my face. The two of us are quiet. Both of us breathing rapidly.
“This is my last match,” he says in a sexy whisper. “Do you want me to light it?”
My breath comes out shaky. “Yes.”
The match drags across the matchbox slowly. And then there’s an amber glow. Lachlan holds the flame between us. “Hold it, Naomi.”
The flame travels downward, racing toward his fingertips. He still holds it, waiting patiently for me to respond. He’d let the fire reach his fingers. He’d take the pain for me.
My hand shakes as it reaches out. Lachlan’s eyes go half-mast the minute I grip the match.
“Now take a breath and blow it out,” he says gruffly.
He’s not asking me to blow out the flame. Lachlan wants me to blow out the pain, tears and destruction from my life. And more than anything, I want to do the same thing. So I lean my face closer to the flame. I look Lachlan in the eye, and with one big gust, I blow the flame out.
The room goes dark.
The match drops to the floor.
The sound echoes around the room. I stand perfectly still, breathing rapidly. The room may be dark but the fire hasn’t died. It’s just transferred to my body. It spreads throughout my veins. It suffocates my fears. My insecurities. My sadness.
I find myself shifting closer.
And then I feel his lips touch mine. His mouth moves so slowly. My eyes close. Lachlan’s hands gently rest against my neck. His tongue glides along my lips. My lips part. His thumbs brush against my throat.
This kiss is gentle yet firm.
This kiss demands to be felt.
This kiss makes up for all the time lost that I’ll never get back.
He moves back an inch. I can’t see his face, but I can feel his eyes on me. “Let me touch you,” he says.
I’d do anything he asks of me. I tell him yes and before I’ve even finished speaking, he reaches out and hooks his index fingers through my belt loops. He doesn’t stop guiding me forward until our bodies are touching. I feel his fingers encircle my wrist. I spread my hand, palm up, waiting for his hand to lace with mine, but his lips made contact with my palm, moving to my wrist, where my pulse pounds against my skin. His fingers move up my arm and grip my elbows. He guides my hands to his neck.
I’ve grown confident underneath his touch and I kiss him. I kiss him knowing that he is the best kind of therapy I will ever have.
Lachlan guides us across the room. We move down the hallway and through a doorway. Out of the corner of my eye I see a large bed. I sit on the edge and raise my eyes to his. He reaches behind his back and grips a handful of his shirt and pulls it over his head.
It was a brisk action and yet my hands jerk at my sides, wanting to reach out and touch him. Lust simmers in my stomach. My fingers curl around the sheets as I carefully look at him. Everything I want is right in front of me.
Light comes in through the window, casting his skin in a blue hue. Highlights the tendons that travel up his arms and his powerful biceps. I can make out the contours of his stomach, and the sharp muscled V that disappears underneath his jeans. He could wrap himself around me and I would disappear from sight.
“You can do whatever you want,” he says, his voice not quite steady. “I’m all yours.”
My hand reaches out like it has a mind of its own. I touch the side of his pec before my eyes drift south. I’ve touched him like this before. But it never gets old. I always find something new and fascinating when I touch Lachlan.
I watch Lachlan suck in a breath. I move down his stomach. His skin tightens and the outline of abs appears. My blood roars through my veins as my fingers drift down to his jeans hanging low on his hips.
I feel courageous and lean forward, my teeth grazing the skin above his jeans. My fingers find the button to his jeans. His eyes are hot, watching every single thing I do. I pull his jeans down and then his boxers. I wrap my hand around his cock. It’s thrilling how when I touch him, I have all the control. He closes his eyes. His mouth opens.
He mutters a curse and his hands reach up and grip the back of my head, holding me in place.
“Naomi,” he groans. “Slow down.”
“What if I don’t want to slow down?”
I know I should savor every touch, kiss and bite. When I’m back at Fairfax I’ll have this memory to hang onto. But I’m so far past the slow down option, it’s now a distant memory. It’s been too long since I’ve had Lachlan all to myself.
Mine, mine, mine, I chant in my mind.
My hand tightens around him. He sucks in a sharp breath.
“If you don’t stop,” Lachlan pants. “This will all be over way too quickly.”
I want him inside of me. I want him to fuck me. That’s the ultimate goal. That’s the only reason I let go of him.
I lean back and take off my shirt. It drops onto the bed and I wait expectantly. But Lachlan doesn’t touch me. He is frozen, with only his eyes sweeping me from head to toe.
“What are you thinking?” I breathe.
My body is perfectly still but I have to stop myself from pulling him to me.
“I’m thinking,” he says slowly as he looms over me so I’m forced to tilt my head back to look at him. “I’d do anything with you… for you… to you.” He leans down; his eyes level with mine. “I’m thinking you have me under a spell.”
He kisses my open mouth. I breathe through my nose as he unzips my pants. We break apart only for a second. Pants come off. My underwear quickly follows. All that’s left is my bra. A small scrap of material. The look in Lachlan’s eyes shows he wants it gone. I reach my arms behind my back to unhook it. Lachlan beats me to it. He rises onto his knees. I tilt my head back to watch him. My bra comes undone in seconds. He keeps his eyes on mine as he slowly pulls the straps down my arms. The cold air touches my breasts. My nipples harden. I smile faintly as I watch Lachlan take me in. I move across the bed. Lachlan follows me. When my head touches the pillow he dips his head. Lips circle around an areola slowly before they wrap around my nipple. My back arches as my hands grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. I forgot this is how it is with Lachlan. I forgot how my body can go from cold to on fire within seconds. I forgot how he knows just how to touch me, kiss me, hold me in a way that drives me crazy.
He switches between both breasts and I’m panting.
“I’ve fucking missed you,” he groans against my skin. He’s still touching me, as if he’s afraid I’m going to disappear. “I’ve missed all of you.”
His lips move away from my breast and drift down.
I keep my eyes open and watch him. The temptation to close my eyes is there, but I want to be wide awake for this. I want to watch everything.
His head drifts further down my body. His hands tighten against my hips imperceptibly.
I feel his breath against my stomach. I move restlessly against the sheets. Teeth scrape against the curve of my hip. By this point I’m trembling. Lachlan stops and lifts his head.
“Do you want me to keep touching you?” he asks, his voice a low growl.
“Why ask me that?” I pant. “You know I do.”
“When I touch you, I want you to always remember it comes from me and no one else.” His fingers drift over my hips, across my inner thighs. “I want you to never forget me.”
He leans in, his lips inches away, but he doesn’t move. He hasn’t even started and I’m already trembling.
Lachlan leans in and kisses me in between my legs. Even though I’ve been bracing myself for him to touch me, my back arches up off the bed. It’s impossible to stay perfectly still. As his mouth moves over me, he watches me the whole time. But I can’t keep his gaze. My eyes close and my head falls back.
My hands curl into fists. I want to grab him. I want to tilt my hips this way and that, to find the perfect angle, but I know he’s building me up. His tongue moves in one quick sweep upward. I gasp. My body jerks. He hits the perfect spot at the perfect time. It is almost vicious what he’s doing to me. My legs keep moving against the sheets. One leg is angled outward. The other curves around his shoulder. I’ll find any way to get closer to him.
Up and down his tongue brushes against me, driving me into a complete frenzy. I try to keep up with him for as long as I can. This uncontrollable feeling sweeps through me. My blood roars in my veins, feeling like tiny pinpricks moving underneath my skin, and my control breaks in half.
I grab the back of Lachlan’s head, my fingers curling into his hair. I move my hips, finding my rhythm. It creates a friction that makes me hook my legs over his shoulders.
His hands curve around my thighs, fingers tighten and he presses me closer to his mouth.
Every muscle in my body tightens. I’m tingling everywhere. My hips lift up. Lachlan holds on, his mouth quickly moving against my skin.
There’s this amazing second where I’m so blissfully numb. I scream out his name.
My body drops to the mattress. I stare up at the ceiling in a complete daze. I’m panting, relishing in the aftermath. Pure bliss. That’s the only way to describe it.
Lachlan lifts his head and gives me a come hither smile. His hands move up my thighs and back down. I watch him with heavy lidded eyes.
He sits up and reaches for a condom. I prop myself on my elbows and watch as he puts it on. His hands are quick. He meets my gaze. His hair is mussed from my hands. His eyes are wide and shining with lust. Chest heaving. He has this wicked grin on his face as he looks over my body.
He doesn’t ask or wait. His elbows fall on either side of my head, knees touching mine, and he surges into me.
“God, you feel good,” he whispers hoarsely.
Those first few seconds my body stretches and I can barely breathe. It’s delicious agony. His hand wraps around my neck gently and when he’s fully inside me his forehead rests against my own.
His hips start to move in a semi-circle. The entire time his gaze remains fixed on mine.
He pushes deeper. My legs lift. My shins brush against the sides of his ribs as I tighten my grip around him, pushing him deeper inside of me. My eyes almost roll into the back of my head.
“Who’s with you right now?” he demands.
“You are,” I pant.
“Good. Remember that,” he says gruffly before he switches our positions. He’s beneath me, and I’m above him. My palms lay flat against the hard wall of his chest.
“Who’s in control right now?”
I look down at our bodies.
“Me.”
“Yes, you.” His hands curl around my hips, gripping me tightly. “You have me where you want me.”
His words are thrilling and send a quick jolt of lust throughout my body.
I move slowly at first, watching his face. Just like he had watched mine.
His fingers dig into my skin. But he doesn’t guide. He lets me have all the control.
I feel myself tighten around him, and he groans.
I start to move faster and my muscles start to ache. My pulse feels like it’s vibrating against my skin.
His large hand travels from my neck to the back of my head, bringing me down to his face. His hips are thrusting frantically.
The bed squeaks.
The two of us are panting.
Sweat coats our skin.
The sheets rustle beneath us.
All these sounds are amplified until Lachlan gives one final thrust and calls out my name.
“Naomi!”
I will always remember the way he said my name. His voice was so raw. His feelings were exposed and out for the entire world to see. This is a man that will take all my pain, gather it up, and take it as his own.
I collapse on top of him. My forehead rests against his shoulder. His chest heaves. We stay like that until our heartbeats slow down.
I don’t know what to say. I’m speechless. So I move off him. Lachlan is lying there, with his forearm draped across his eyes, but when I move he lifts his arm and blinks rapidly.
He takes the condom off, tossing it aside and reaches for me. “Come here,” he growls.
I love the deep timbre of his voice, raw from shouting. It makes my lips split into a lazy, satisfied grin. He wraps his arms around me, holding me so tightly against him.
Sex.
Love.
Fucking.
Call it what you want but they are all the same. Each one requires you to give a piece of yourself that you can never get back.
But with the right person, everything will align perfectly. The world stops turning on its axis, time slows and you realize that while you’re losing a piece of yourself, you’re also gaining something in return. What they give you fits you just right.
That’s how I will always feel with Lachlan.
He holds me and I know I’m safe.