“I’m pretty sure they call that a water feature. Rich people like that kind of shit indoors.”
She snort-laughs. “Same thing. Anyway. You loved the birds too.”
I just look at her. I love it when she smiles. And it’s been so long. I mean, I have pictured this day in my mind for four years and it never happened like this. I thought there would be tears. Lots of crying. From all of us. But mostly her.
I didn’t picture her smiling and laughing. Not after everything that happened that day.
But that’s the gift of trauma-induced amnesia, right?
All those bad things just get wiped clean and you’re left with nothing but the good ones.
All the days that ended just fine.
The house and the birds.
The marsh and the river.
The boy next door.
That’s all she remembers now.
And there’s a part of me that wants to keep her like this.
Innocent, and happy, and unaware of what really happened on her twentieth birthday.
But I really do love her. I love her way too much. I want her way too much. And if we ever have a real chance at becoming what we always knew we were meant to be… then she needs to know.
She has to remember.
And then she will leave us again.
I will lose her.
She will run away and this time she might not ever come back.
She gets up from the couch, crosses the room, and stands in front of me. I look up at her and wait.
“Can I sit with you, McKay?”
I know what the right answer is. The same answer it’s always been—except for that one time on her twentieth birthday.
But I say, “Sure,” anyway.
Because I don’t want to lose her again. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not ever.
She settles in my lap, one arm around my neck, her legs sideways over my thighs, her head tucked under my chin. And when I wrap my arms around her, I know there’s no going back. Once I cross this line for real, all this pretending is over.
I just don’t care anymore.
I want her.
My hand slips down to her thigh and I begin rubbing it.
Indie turns her cheek and a chill runs through my whole body when her lips touch my neck.
I sigh.
“You were always my favorite, you know that, McKay?”
“Lies,” I whisper back. “You always loved Donovan more.”
“That’s not true. It was always you. But you were so… so… focused.”
“Focused?” I smile.
“Yeah. On doing the right thing.”
I lean back a little and push her away. “What the hell are you talking about? The right thing? I can’t think of a single fucking time in my entire life when I did the right thing.”
“You did the right thing with me all the time. That’s why we’re not together.”
I’m not sure if she’s joking right now or this is just her unreliable memory talking. “Indie. Come on. I taught you how to kill people. In no way, shape, or form did I ever do the right thing with you.”
“You didn’t want to fuck me.”
“Stop that. Just… stop that.”
“It’s true. You drove me to Nathan St. James. He was all I had.”
“That’s funny. He was all you wanted. He was your number one. Not me.”
“When I was little.” She snuggles up against me again. “But not later. It was always you. And you just… never wanted me.”
I want to tell her everything. That she is everything to me. I want to make all these years fit together inside her head and make sense for once. I want to force her to open up and understand all the reasons why I did the things I’ve done.
“And when I left you never even looked for me. I could’ve used you, ya know.”
“Literally? Used me?”
“Not just literally. All the ways. But yes. There were so many times that I needed you, McKay. And you weren’t there.”
“That’s because I was here. And you knew I was here. And you didn’t come back to me.”
She relaxes against my chest and breathes for a few moments. “I needed you to come back to me.”
“I wasn’t the one who left.”
She sits up in my lap. “Really?” Her eyes are locked with mine. But then she frowns and a stab of panic washes through my body. I don’t want her to remember. I don’t want her to know any of the shit she’s forgotten.
I reach up and grab her hair. Pull her face to mine. And I kiss this creeping beautiful girl the way she should be kissed.
I kiss her the way a man kisses a woman he’s spent several lifetimes dreaming about.
I kiss her the way a woman made of messy, lovely darkness needs to be kissed on a stormy night.
I kiss her like a man who accepts all the pieces of gorgeous misery locked inside her heart.
I kiss away all her pretty little nightmares until there is nothing left but emptiness.
And then I just… fill her up again.
She moans into my mouth. Her tongue searching for things she’ll never be able to find. Her soft lips lingering on mine like this connection is the last thing she’ll ever feel before she dies.
“Take me into your bedroom, McKay. Before you change your mind.”
I wrap my arms around her and stand up. Her legs immediately grip my waist and I slip my hands under her ass and hold her as I walk down the hall and into the dark bedroom.
I don’t flip on the lights. We need the darkness tonight. We might need the darkness every night after this too.
I lie her down on the bed and paw at the waistline of her sweats, jerking them down her legs. And when the back of my hand touches the soft, young skin of her thigh my cock swells inside my jeans.
I toss her sweats aside and she reaches for me. But I step out of her reach and just bend her knees—slowly hiking them up to her chest as I lower myself to the floor and press my mouth against her pussy. Wet, and warm, and waiting for me.
All these years. Waiting for me.
My hands reach around her legs. I tug her forward to the edge of the bed and then my thumbs begin caressing small circles over her hipbones.
She arches her back and moans, her fingers digging into my hair, clutching at it like she’s falling and I’m the only thing that can save her.
I wish that were true. I want to be the one who saves her.
But I can’t change that. Only she can. I lick her. Flick my tongue against her clit until she lets go of my hair, slips her fingers up my short sleeves, and begins clawing at my shoulders with her fingernails.
I shove her shirt up her stomach, reaching for her tight, round breasts, then roll her nipples between my thumb and forefinger.
She moans. “I want you inside me, McKay. Now, please.”
And my heart hurts for her.
For all the bad things coming, even though they’ve already happened.
For all the tears she will cry, even though she sobbed herself dry years ago.
For all the memories that will be ruined, even though they haven’t even been made yet, and never will now.
I pull away from her, unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans as I stand. I kick my jeans off, push her up towards the top of the bed, and then ease my body between her open legs. The top of my cock pushes against her opening as I brace myself on the mattress with open palms and lean down to kiss her mouth again.