Not anymore.
We’d been a normal, rambunctious family until Stewart had gotten sick when he was nine. When I met Christopher, Stewart had been at his worst. Well, at his worst...until now.
Ella released a shrill little cry, and squirmed in Jared’s hold. Gently, he bounced her, shushing her in a soft whisper against her head. “I think someone is going to need their mommy soon.” Soft affection flowed from Jared’s laughter. “She goes from completely content to starving in five seconds flat.”
“Oh, well I better let you two go,” I offered, hating that it sounded almost reluctant. “It was really nice to see you again.”
Aly hesitated, glancing at her husband, before she tipped her head and studied me with intent. “Would it be weird if we…I don’t know…had coffee or something? I totally understand if you’re not comfortable. I get it. But I’d love to really catch up with you if you’re up for it. I could use a friend around here.”
Maybe that’s what I liked about her most. She just came right out and said it, gave voice to that huge elephant that was snuffing out all the air in the room. That and she was genuine and kind.
I refused to allow myself to believe I was agreeing because she was Christopher’s sister.
“Yeah, I think I’d like that.”
“Good.”
She dug around in her huge bag for her phone, while Jared just stood their swaying Ella, his mouth seemingly pressed permanently to the side of her head as he showered her with small kisses.
Aly thumbed across the screen. “What’s your number?”
I rattled it off while Aly entered it into her phone. Two seconds later, my phone dinged with a new message.
“There, you have my number, too.”
This time, Ella’s cry was a demand.
“We’d better get her home so I can feed her. I’ll call you soon.”
“That would be great.”
She hugged me, only glancing back once as she followed Jared into a lane to pay.
I hurried to one of the express registers, all of a sudden feeling guilty, like I’d committed some sort of mortal sin by giving my number to a Moore.
Christopher had broken me, shattered my belief and trust. But more important than that, I had Ben to think about. Ben who had stood by my side. Ben, who even with all his faults, truly cared about me. He was my father’s best friend’s son, and basically we had grown up together. My parents had raised me with the impression that someone like Ben would be the right kind of guy for me, and with my demolished heart, it hadn’t taken him all that much to convince me I belonged with him.
I paid and rushed outside. The blistering Phoenix summer was in full force. Suffocating heat pressed down from above, taking everything hostage, the evening sky heavy with dense clouds building steadily at the edge of the horizon.
My feet pounded on the scorching pavement as I made my way up the aisle to my Ford Escape.
Funny, that suddenly felt like exactly what I needed to do.
Escape.
Take this whole afternoon back.
Leave the classroom of the tiny private school where I’d taken a job as a teacher during their summer program, and instead of coming here gone straight to the small house I shared with Ben –where I was safe and memories of Christopher were buried and hidden in the hope that one day they would finally be forgotten.
I slumped into the driver’s seat, my gaze drawn to the little family that came bustling out of the store.
My heart rattled in my chest.
“Shit,” I cursed, gripping the wheel. “What am I doing?”
The sick part was I knew the answer to that.
Chapter Two
Christopher
Outside the bedroom door, the party raged on. Timothy’s house was splitting at the seams, the way it always was on a Friday night. Music blared, and voices lifted above it, echoing through the thin walls. Distorted sounds pounded heavily against my skin, my eyesight hazy in the deep shadows of the darkened room.
I felt completely weightless and somehow still pinned down by the pungent fog clouding my brain.
Every elemental part of me slowly became detached. Floated away. All of my emotions. All of my thoughts. It was like they hovered somewhere overhead, just out of reach. My entire consciousness faded away, right along with my conscience, leaving me with nothing but the physical.
It’s what I craved. Needed. The relief of feeling nothin’ but skin on skin.
Even though some part of me hated it at the same time.
Slouched back on the worn out couch in the spare bedroom, I lifted the half-drained bottle of Patron to my lips, idly watching the dull mop of brown hair obstructing the face of the girl who was on her knees, sucking me off.
The only thing I could discern was the pleasure of her hot, needy mouth and the burn of tequila as it roared through my system to settle in a scorching pool in my gut.