Fractured Affections (The Affections Series Book 1) (18 page)

What is wrong with women? Didn’t their fathers teach them not to go home with strange men? It’s like they don’t have morals or value for their own safety. Most of them should be taught that no man looks at easy as a turn on. We view it as a way to get off and move on. Why not make us work for it?

I reach up and slowly tuck a stand of her silky blonde hair behind her ear, then lean in to whisper in her ear, “You know what? I think you might be right, you can’t be her because the person I thought you were wasn’t that easy.” I hear her gasp at my bold words. “Maybe you shouldn’t be either, it’s so much more fun after the chase.”

I head back to Reagan and slide into the booth. Sternly looking over to her, I raise my beer to toast and take a long swig. Rea has a smug smile and it irritates me.

Slamming my bottle down, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“What did she say? I thought you were leaning in to kiss her, you like her?”

“Huh?”

“You think she’s hot. I understand. If you would like to go home with someone, don’t let me stop you.”

“Reagan, the only person I’m going home with is you.” I begin to pick at the label on my beer. We will go home together but to separate beds. In just a few short days Dalton will be back, so I will probably see even less of her and Dylan. I especially hate to think that my time with Dylan, on a daily basis, is about to end. I have enjoyed all the things we’ve done together since finding out our real relation to one another. It’s been hard on him, but he has accepted me since Reagan told him. I’m so thankful that he let me in.

“Striker, really you could use a little fun, right? I saw you lean in, you wanted to kiss her and chickened out, didn’t you?” That smile is back, but doesn’t reach her eyes like before.

“I don’t have any interest in fucking that young girl. I was leaning in to be polite. I didn’t want anyone else to hear when I told her to stop being easy and taking home men she doesn’t know.” I look back over toward the girl and notice she keeps giving me fleeting glances. Not the kind that says, ‘I’m interested’ but the kind that says, ‘what a dick.’  “Within thirty seconds she was offering it up to me. What the hell is wrong with girls?”

“Who knows? I try to figure Riley out, but it’s impossible. The reality they live in is completely different than mine. I’ve only been with two men, and I plan to keep it that way.”

Needing to change the subject I say, “Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.”

Leaning forward I place my elbows on the table and drop my voice. “I dare you to stop playing this stupid fucking game. We suck at it, and it’s not nearly as fun as it used to be. So how about this? We go over and I whoop your ass in a game of pool.”

Reagan turns in her seat to look over at the tables and I follow her gaze. They look pretty full right now, so we’ll have to put some quarters up to hold our place. Depending on how they are playing, we may have to play as a team.

“Really? You want to go over there with all those people?”

“Uh, yeah. Why not?”

“I don’t, it looks crowded over there. It makes me uncomfortable.”

Standing from the booth, I reach out inviting her to place her hand in mine. “Come on, Rea, let’s just go home. If this isn’t your scene anymore, its fine, we don’t have to stay.”

She places her hand in mine and slowly slides out of her seat. “Why would I want to go home, Striker? I never get out of the house anymore. I guess what I should have used as an excuse, is the fact that I have this brace on my hand.”

“What do you want to do then? I just can’t play the stupid shit we just were. I felt ridiculous going over to that girl. I hate how women turn me into a piece of meat.”

Reagan’s eyes travel down my body. “Well …”

“Stop! You can’t objectify me too. Friends, remember?” I say, moving my index finger back and forth between us, trying to keep a straight face.

She suddenly stands with her back straight and her eyes and mouth fix themselves in a humorless expression. “Right. Friends. Yes, sir. I will not check out your body anymore.” Turning on her heel, she walks away from me and toward the bar again. I keep my eye on Rea as I walk over to the pool tables. The bartender makes her two more shots. As soon as I start to think one is for me, she swallows them both down like a champ: no more salt, no more lime. I’ll have to carry her out of here.

I reach into my pocket for some quarters. I almost tuck them under the table rail but then notice they have dartboards and one is free. It’ll be easier for her to play darts with one hand.
As I gather the darts and write our names on one of the dry erase boards, the sound of drums vibrate through me as the band tests their equipment. It’s later in the evening than I thought, because the band was due to start playing at nine. They say time flies when you’re having fun, but so far our evening has been filled with nothing but awkward moments. I know Rea well enough to see that she is having a hard time balancing this friendship bit by the amount of alcohol she’s consuming. We both are having trouble with it but keep trying because that’s all we can do.

Turning, I catch sight of Reagan again. I can’t help but think of how much I want this woman; she’s everything that I ever wanted and everything that I lost. Isn’t it funny how life works? You think of your life and the things you want from it, but you can’t control it. Things get in the way, and your future takes a turn that’s out of your control, but a love like we had is not easily forgotten. She has moved on and I have to learn to deal with that. Dalton will be home soon, and all the time we have shared with each other will come to an end.
  I’m not sure I’m ready to share her yet
, especially when we haven’t been able to move into a completely healthy relationship.

“STRIKER!” Rea yells across the bar, even though she is only a few steps away now. “Look, I brought you a beer. You know, since you pussed out and won’t drink any more shots with me.”

Grabbing the beer from her hand, I reach for her wrist with my other hand and pull her close, whispering in her ear, “Yeah, well call it what you will, but I need to be able to get you home safely after you enjoy yourself tonight.”

When I pull back, Reagan’s head is tilted back and her eyes are shut. The look on her face reflects pure pleasure. I instantly regret my decision to bring our bodies so close. Her lack of self-control is evident, as I watch her soft wet tongue slide out to run along those plump pink lips. My imagination runs wild, as I try to figure out the thoughts running through her mind, causing my cock to twitch. Against my better judgment I lean in again. “Alma, open those eyes of yours. Stop looking like your picturing me spreading you out on one of these tables, and fucking you hard, in front of all these people; ‘cause my dick can’t take it.”

Feeling her hands grab hold of my shirt, I lift my head slowly and notice she is having a hard time holding up her own weight. Before making a scene, I quickly look around the bar and notice that no one is looking our way. Scooping her up in my arms, I exit through the back door and carry her around to the car. Her arms wrap around my neck and one hand is fisted in my hair. Her grip is tight. I can tell she is using it to help keep her face buried in my neck. Before we make it halfway to the car, I can feel the warm tickle from her tears traveling down my neck.

I unlock the door and place her in the passenger seat, then kneel so that we are eye level. Reagan’s head is hanging and her hair is covering most of her face, so I lift my hand to tuck it behind her ear. “What is it, Rea? Is it what I said?”

Slowly she shakes her head no, as her bottom lip quivers, and then rolls her head in my direction, taking a moment to focus in on my face.

“I love you, Strike. I always have. This is so hard because I love him too, but they are such different types of love. My heart hurts because I know I can’t have you both, but damn if I don’t want to.”

Leaning in I place a tender kiss to her forehead and breathe her in. Her sweet scent fills my lungs, causing my heart to crack a little more. Love is a crazy thing, just four simple letters, but its meaning is so complex that I’m not sure anyone really understands it. How can one word be translated so many ways? Maybe what I feel for Rea is more than love. I swear our hearts speak to each other. That they beat to the same rhythm, even after all the years we’ve spent apart. Then there is that love that comes from the mind, the type of love that keeps us safe and yearns for stability. The type of love that if lost will not break you completely.

It’s human nature to pick something for yourself that protects your well-being, the survival instinct. Reagan survived by marrying Dalton. I survived by loving no one. That was my safe place, since I always lose the ones I love most. I thought by letting her go, all those years ago, that I was loving her enough to let her be happy, but I was completely wrong. I fucked up everything by not fighting for what was mine. Now, I’ve lost her forever and caused her more pain than I ever intended to.

Pulling away, I lift her chin so we can look into each other’s eyes. “I know, Rea, I hurt too, baby.”

“Did I do the right thing?” she whispers.

“What do you mean?”

“By telling you about Dylan. You could have gone on with your life and married a wonderful woman that can give you all of herself. Now you’re stuck in this stupid, fucked up love triangle, with no way of winning.”

I let out a sardonic chuckle and stand to shut her door. She doesn’t fucking get it. I can’t love another woman, so I don’t even try. Dylan has always been mine, no secret will change that. It only takes me a moment to walk around to the driver’s door, but it’s enough time for anger to scorch through my veins. Sliding into my seat, I slam the door behind me. “Reagan, pull yourself the fuck together and look at me. We can’t keep having this conversation.”

I try to wait patiently for her to lift her face, but she just sits there and continues to cry into her hands. “Reagan!” After a few minutes my patience is dwindling. I reach over the console pulling her slight body onto my lap, so that she is straddling me. Grabbing her checks between my hands, I make her look at me only to watch her shut her eyes.

“Look at me right now, Rea, and listen to what I have to say.” She sucks in her bottom lip, biting down on it, and slowly lifts her eyes to mine. I swallow hard, trying to control my need for this woman before I speak.

“You should have told me about Dylan years ago, but we won’t get into that again. So, no, it wasn’t a mistake, and you’re crazy to think that I could be happy with another woman. I have woken up and fallen asleep, every day, thinking of you since we met; all these years, Rea. All these years, I have only loved you, because you fucking own me. I could fuck all the women I want, but they will never be more to me than that. You were it for me. Yeah, it fucking hurts, but it’s my problem to deal with. I wouldn’t trade that pain to not know Dylan as my son.”

Tears are streaming down her face, and she is biting her lip harder, trying to control the sobs dying to escape her.

“I’m not going anywhere. I refuse to miss any more time with my son. MY SON! Do you understand, Rea? You will need to learn to adjust to my being here. As much as I want things to be easy for you, you’re not the priority. I love you, but get one thing straight. There is no fucked up love triangle, Rea. I won’t fuck another man’s wife, no matter how much my body is screaming for her, because I have felt that pain and I wish it on no one.”

Reagan begins to struggle to climb off of me to her own seat. Moving my hands down to her thighs, I force her to remain in my lap. “Stop, Strike, please let me up.”

“No, you need to let me finish,” I say, as my grip tightens. She only struggles for a second before realizing that it’s useless.

“What more is there to say?”

“That I’m sorry. I’m sorry I ever left. I’m sorry things have turned out this way. I love you too. I always will, but we will learn to be around each other over time, in a way that is healthy for the kids. I promise.”

Reagan slowly wraps her arms around my neck and hugs me tightly. We sit like this for a while. I can feel the alcohol weakening my defenses again, since my adrenaline has waned. I slowly rub my hand up and down her back, in a soothing motion, hoping to calm her down. I’m not sure how many more of these episodes I can handle. Leaning my head back against the seat, I close my eyes and allow myself to focus on the comforting feel of her in my arms. Trying to give her more room, I recline the seat slightly, causing Rea to shift her position, which places friction below my waist.

“Can we just stay here, like this, for a little while longer?” With a slight slur to her words, she whispers against my neck, not realizing the effect she is having on me. The soft brush of her breath across my skin sends chills down my spine. I should really move her off of me, but she is so calm now; I hate to disturb her.

Clearing my throat I respond. “Sure, Rea, just for a little while, though.”

I slide my body lower in the seat, to relieve the pressure of her heat against me, but it causes her to slightly buck her hips, making the feeling more intense than before. I harden beneath her. I know she realizes what’s happening when her breathing becomes more ragged.

Closing my eyes tightly, I try to think of something else, but I feel Reagan’s right hand move from my neck, reaching down to recline us all the way back. Slowly she sits up and grinds down against me, causing a growl deep in my throat.

Tilting her head to look down at me, she slowly runs her hands up my chest. “What was that, Strike? You like me moving on you like this?”

I can feel her warmth through my jeans, moving back and forth over my aching length, and it feels so fucking good. Trying to maintain rational thought, I force out words through my gritted teeth. “You need to move to your seat now, Rea.”