Chapter 44
7 MONTHS AGO
The next time I saw Lee, he came to me. His frame leaning against the back wall of my house, the early morning light casting golden shadows on his body. Bare, just shorts on, salt water drying on his body.
I came to a stop, my sports bra sticking, sweat running hot down my face. I wiped my face and met his eyes, my breath hard from my final sprint. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“You’re back.”
He stepped out of the shadows, the sun illuminating his skin, his eyes squinting when he came to a stop in front of me, his hand reaching out and tugging on my ponytail. “Yep.”
“I missed you.” I couldn’t hold the sentence back. It was true, no matter how much I hated it.
His grin broke, as he looked down, tried to hide the reaction. His dimple winked at me, the combination one that made my legs weak.
“Don’t leave me again.” The weakness in my voice showed and he looked back up. Studied my eyes with a somberness that was more Brant than Lee.
“Okay.” He nodded.
〰️〰️〰️〰️
I came down from my orgasm, his cock deep inside, his body draped over mine, two shapes, both bent forward against the bedroom window, his mouth at my neck, the heave of his chest against my back as he thrust, groaned, moaned my name as he fully marked me as his own. Shuddered inside me before pulling out, whispering my name with a kiss against the back of my neck.
My legs gave out, his hand catching me before I fully dropped, dragging me backward until we were both flat on my bed.
“God, I love fucking you.” His breath was heavy and the bed shifted when he rolled, pulled me closer.
“Same here.” I closed my eyes. Appreciated the drift of air across my skin. Recovered.
“I need a shower.”
I grinned. “Me too. Give me a minute.”
“I don’t have a thing to do today. Take as long as you need.”
I kept my eyes closed. Felt him lift my hand. Trace his fingers over the lines on my palm. Pressed his lips against the spot, my fingers closing around his mouth.
“I love you like this.” His mouth against pillows, muffled slightly. I kept my eyes closed, my mouth curving into a smile.
“Like what?”
“Naked. Satisfied. Nothing on, nothing to make me feel inferior.”
That opened my eyes. I turned my head, tilted it up to him. “Inferior? Why would you feel that way?”
“We live in different worlds, Lana. Don’t insult me by ignoring that fact.”
I kept quiet. Felt the soft trail of his hand over my back that apologized for the tone in his voice. “But you’re here now.”
“Yeah. I couldn’t even tell you where I’ve been. Everything…” he grew quiet. “Everything fades unless I’m with you.”
It should have been a compliment. Instead, it felt more like a prison sentence. A statement of fact. I didn’t respond.
“I wish my mom could have met you.”
I forgot, for a moment, to breathe. Waited to see what would follow. Which path this conversation would take.
“She was so beautiful. Hair like yours—curly. Never in control. She used to chase me around the house and it would bounce, like a third person in the room.” His voice dropped, as if he had fallen asleep, and I strained for more. When he next spoke, I could barely hear him.
“I can’t really remember my father. I was eight when they were killed. A drunk driver, some country-club asshole on a Sunday afternoon ran headfirst into their car. He lived, they didn’t.” The hand on my back had grown hard.
Silence.
“I’m so sorry, Lee.” I didn’t know what else to say.
He ignored the sentiment. Continued speaking like the words were bottled up and needed an escape, his voice tight and quick, each syllable dipped in anxiety. “I didn’t have any other family. Got put in the foster care system. I had eight different homes by the time I turned eighteen. Three of the homes were okay, five…” I heard the sound his throat made when he swallowed. The hand at my back was gone and I rolled over. I rested my head on his shoulder and wrapped my arm around his chest. Wound a leg through his, until every part of my body was linked with his. Gave him comfort in the only way I knew. “Five… were bad. I disappeared when I turned eighteen. Got a few thousand bucks from the state and took off.” His hand returned. Drew a line down my spine. “You and I… we’ve lived different lives. I’ve never been taken care of. Have never had enough to take care of another person, much less spoil a woman like you. My entire life has been about survival. Fighting to get where I am. To get to the point where I will be good enough for someone else.”
I said nothing. Just laid there, wrapped in his arms. Felt the moment when he stopped waiting for a response and fell asleep, his hands going limp and heavy against my skin.
It was a wonderful story. Poetic in its portrayal of his life. Endearing. The creation of this tortured, confused man before me. Perfectly explained his desperation for love, mixed with a side of I’llNeverBeGoodEnough.
Too bad it was all a lie. I laid in his arms and wondered how many women he had told it to.
