Dragging a hand down my face, I chuckle, suddenly feeling awkward that I brought it up. Even vaguely, it feels wrong to talk about this with her. But we’re already here, so why not. I grab the bottle, tossing back another shot, the warmth filling my gut and giving me the push to continue.
“He’s hot… like ridiculous, panty-melting type hot. Andmy God, Katie, it was the best sex I’ve ever had in my fucking life. It’s not fair how good it was.”
“Do you think he’s trying to have a repeat? Since he’s contacting you again.”
“I don’t know,” I reply honestly, thinking back on all our interactions. “I didn’t until recently… now I’m not so sure.”
She studies me for a moment. “Is that why you’re so iffy about Jay?”
Katie has always been intuitive. She can read people too well, so it doesn’t surprise me that she asked that.
“I guess. The few guys I’ve been with since that night haven’t compared by a long shot, so I gave up trying.”
“Well, I think you should give it a try. He seems nice and cute, from what you’ve told me. And you never know, he could be the answer to getting your mind off the married guy. The worst thing that could happen is you end up not vibing with him, but at least you tried.”
Maybe she’s right. Maybe I should give him a shot. It’s not like I can ever hook up with Zeke ever again, and I don’t really want to be single and celibate for the rest of my life. Something’s gotta give.
Chapter Eight
Elias Carnell
After all the drinking we did, I ended up sleeping over at Katie’s house last night, only to come home this morning with a raging headache and a taste like something died in the back of my throat. I had all the plans to do a yoga class next to the pool today, but that didn’t happen.
It’s already after one in the afternoon, and I just pulled myself out of bed. My mom wants to grab lunch, so I need to shower and change quickly. It’s the first time we’ve gotten together to do anything since I moved back. Obviously, we’ve seen each other around the house and have eaten some meals together, but like actually set aside time to spend together? Yeah, hasn’t happened.
I wouldn’t say that we were super close when I was growing up, but we did spend a lot of one-on-one time together. When she wasn’t working one of her three jobs, we’d often go to the movies. The theatre in town had dollar-movie Sundays, so we would sneak in some snacks and spend most of the day watching movie after movie. We also used to watch the sunrise from the roof of our old house. It was such a rickety old house; I’m surprised the roof didn’t cave in under the weight of us.
When I went off to college, we talked semi-regularly, and I’d come home on breaks, but it wasn’t how it used to be when I was younger. I think the drift was normal for someone just coming into their adulthood at college, though.
Then she married Zeke, and it’s like I subconsciously put up a wall that encompassed her too, and I feel bad because she did nothing wrong. She has no clue I fucked her husband before he was her husband. A bitterness has always sat heavy on the back of my tongue in regard to the whole situation. Mostly because he’s never been man enough to address it.
Turning the shower on piping hot, I slip out of my clothes, letting them fall to floor, before I step under the spray. The scalding temperature feels amazing on my tired muscles. Washing my hair first, I squirt a glob of shampoo into my palm and begin massaging it onto my scalp. My mind drifts to memories I normally keep tucked away, locked up tight, but apparently, the hangover has my defenses lowered because the floodgates are open.
Flashes of my mom and Zeke’s rehearsal dinner and too much tequila consumed. Fuzzy echoes of the dark hallway, Tom Ford cologne, and a hard body pressed up against mine. Slow, painstaking lyrics of Lord Huron’sThe Night We Metfiltering all around as desperate, forbidden lips press down on the overheated flesh of my neck, goosebumps blooming over every inch of my body. Liquor coursing through my bloodstream and the lust igniting an inferno in my veins made my inhibitions low and my desire strong. The feel of lips on mine, the taste of top shelf tequila and imported cigars heavy on his tongue as it glides with mine. His hands roaming my body, mine threading through his hair.
Several stolen minutes in the darkness sat like lead in my stomach as I watched them say their vows the next afternoon. After I left that church, I made a vow of my own to lock that night away and never look back on it.
Lot of good that did me.
After I finish washing myself, I climb out and grab a plush black towel that’s probably longer than I am tall, wrapping it around my waist before heading back into my room. Checking my phone, I see I have twenty minutes before I have to leave to meet my mom. Most days during the week, she goes down to the country club to hang out with the other wives. No clue what they do all day, every day, but that’s where she’s at now.
Once dressed, I run gel through my hair to try to tame it. It hot as balls outside right now, per usual, and the humidity is through the roof. I know if I don’t put any product in, it’ll poof up the second I step outside. Grabbing my keys off my dresser, I shove them and my wallet into my back pocket, leaving my room and heading down the stairs.
Hilda is in the living room dusting when I walk past. “Hello, Mr. Elias,” she greets with her usual smile.
“Hi, Hilda. I’m heading out to meet my mom for lunch. Be back later.”
“Have fun, sir.”
Every time she calls me “sir,” I cringe. She’s probably old enough to at least be my mom. It just feels wrong.
“No sir, Hilda. Remember.” I toss her a smile and a wink before walking out the front door. Just as I knew it would, the heat hits me like an oven door opening.
North Carolina gets hot and humid, but it’s nothing like it is here. And I’m from here. You’d think it would be woven into my DNA to be automatically acclimated to it, no matter how long I’m gone, but after four years away, it’s almost unbearable.
The country club is only about five minutes down the road by car, and it’s where Mom wants to have lunch. So, once I park, I make my way inside toward the café. She’s already waiting for me, a mimosa in front of her while she scrolls through her phone.
“Hey, Ma.” Pulling out the chair across from her, I plop down as she raises her eyes to meet mine from over her phone.
