Her legs wound around my midsection and squeezed. I wished she hadn't done that. It'd been too long since anyone had touched me, even the slightest bit. Her legs wrapped around me was too much.
I shouldn't have liked it.
I wished I hadn't.
"If you can't swim, why the fuck would you jump in the water?" I asked, hoping to conceal my guilt with irritation.
"You said it wasn't that deep." She was still out of breath and I didn't know if it was from the jump or fear.
"It's normally not," I responded as I walked her up to the shore.
Once we made it far enough for her to stand on her own, she let go. That's what I had wanted her to do from the beginning, ever since she'd latched on, but once she did, I wished she'd held on longer. The absence of her-of a simple touch-manifested into pain. The lack of physical human contact was excruciating. But I knew it was for the best.
Silence consumed us as we walked to the shore. She inched closer to me, and I did nothing but stand there, waiting to see what she'd do. Her hands came up and held my face. She forced my gaze to hers. I resisted at first. But I gave in and let her look into my soul because she made me feel cherished and cared for. My heart ached and a war raged on inside my head. I shouldn't have been there with her. The words were at the tip of my tongue. I can't. But they didn't come out.
Her fingernails ran over the dusting of scruff on my cheek until I literally groaned in agony. That simple touch sent an ache throughout my body, a yearning I hadn't felt in what seemed like forever.
Slowly, she pulled my face closer to hers. Inch by painstaking inch, until her breath fanned across my lips. A split second before our mouths met, I turned my head, knowing this was wrong. I craved it, more than anything, but not from her. I needed it from Gabi-from the one woman I loved. But I hadn't had it in so long. The need to feel wanted burned from the inside out. The guilt over desiring it from someone else was almost too much to bear.
She moved away and let go of my face. "I'm so sorry. That was … that was stupid of me. My God. What was I thinking? You're my boss! And I … threw myself at you. I was … I was wrapped up in the adrenaline of jumping off the pier. I'm sorry, Dane."
"Eden." Her name burned my tongue, as if it knew it didn't belong there. "Don't apologize. It wasn't your fault. I just can't. This … can't happen again."
"No. I know. Really, Dane, I'm so sorry. This isn't who I am. I don't go around trying to kiss random men. Especially men I work for. You don't have to worry about me trying to do something like this ever again. I swear." She rambled, taking on all the responsibility, and I knew I had to stop it. I had to make sure she knew it wasn't her.
"Seriously, stop apologizing. It's not you. It's not because I'm your boss-even though that should be the reason. I can't do this with you because I'm … I'm with someone."
No words, only silence.
Her feet shuffled in the sand as she took a step back, turned, paused, and then faced me again. Another step in my direction, her hand in the air. Her mouth opened and closed. And then she turned away again. But this time, she didn't change her mind. She simply walked away, leaving me standing there.
I wanted to run after her.
I wanted to go home.
I wanted …
I wanted …
I just fucking wanted to be happy again.
4
I stood in front of the mirror and wiped off the fog from my shower. Staring at my reflection, I saw someone unfamiliar to me. Unrecognizable. A shadow of the man I used to be.
Anyone looking at me would never know the loneliness that lived inside. The desperation that had carved itself a spot and made a permanent home where my heart used to lay. But I knew because I struggled with it on a daily basis. It taunted me every day and refused to let me forget about the hollowness surrounding me.
I worked out often, and it showed in my physique. On the outside, I appeared to be well put together. My dirty-blond hair was always kept short, neat, never long enough to be considered unruly. I trimmed my close-cut beard every morning-weekends included. During the week, I sported business-men ties and pressed pants, wore shoes that shined, and I carried a briefcase.
Professional.
Composed.
But looks can be deceiving.
Staring at myself now, I noticed how dull my blue eyes had become. No longer vibrant and full of life. I'd spent so long paying attention and pouring everything into Gabi that I hadn't seen the effects her depression had on me. The toll it'd taken on me.
I ran my hand over my scruff, the same place Eden had touched me earlier, and tried to remember what it felt like when Gabi used to scratch the short hairs. I fought to recall the feel of her hands on me, the way her breath used to warm the skin on my neck when we'd curl up together, even if only to watch a silly movie. I could no longer remember in vivid detail what it was like to be with her intimately. Instead, all I could feel was Eden's hand on my face, her breath on my lips, her legs around my waist.
It disgusted me.
Giving up on the self-deprecating thoughts, I turned off the bathroom light and went to the bedroom. Gabi was already asleep, on her side facing away from me, so I carefully climbed beneath the covers to keep from disturbing her. But the longer I lay there, the worse my desperation became. I needed her, and I knew she needed me.
Something had to give.
Rolling onto my side to face her, I wrapped my arm around her waist. I no longer cared if I woke her or not. I wanted her awake. I needed her voice, her touch, her lips on mine.
Depression affects more than the person struggling with it. It reaches out its talons and hooks everyone close-and I was tired of being ripped apart by it.
I hauled her into me. Her back met my chest and warmth instantly flooded me. It was as if I'd been locked outside in the cold without a jacket, and then came inside to sit by the fire. Comforting. But it didn't last long. She stirred and fought against my hold until I finally relented, letting her roll onto her stomach with her face buried into her pillow.
And the frosty chill returned.
I stared at the ceiling, knowing something had to give. A woman-a stranger-had made me smile, made me laugh, and I had enjoyed it. I craved it more than I thought possible. And I needed more of it. But there was a line I couldn't cross, a point at which it was wrong. Sadly, I wasn't sure I knew where that line was.
The darkness took over while I contemplated it all. I loved Gabi, more than anything else in the world. However, at some point, I had to learn how to put myself first when needed. Only, I didn't think it possible to ever put myself before her. She wasn't whole. She wasn't in a place where she was capable of taking care of herself.
Gabi moaned in her sleep-a sound I hadn't heard in ages. She became restless, flipping her head from side to side until she settled and faced me. Her eyes opened and a smile lilted her lips. It was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen.
She slowly removed her arm out from beneath her and stretched it out to lay her hand on my bare chest. The heat from her palm flowed through me like the rays of the sun at noon.
"Hey," I whispered, completely unsure of how to act. Everything had been so difficult between us lately, and the last thing I wanted to do was scare her off or upset her somehow. I could upset her without even meaning to.
Her smile grew wider while she blinked at me. "Hey," she repeated in a sleepy voice, almost scratchy. "I missed you."
My chest grew heavy, as if the weight of the world settled on it, and a sigh escaped. Relief flooded me, as well as complete and utter joy. "I missed you, too, baby."
She softly ran her nails over my skin and scooted closer. "Make love to me. I need you, Dane. I love you so much. Please, make love to me." The way she asked made it sound as though she were begging, although she never needed to. I'd do anything for her, and she knew it.
I rolled into her, forcing her onto her back, and then covered her body with mine. The feel of her beneath me was something I'd longed for. Craved. Needed more than air to breathe. She was my oxygen, and I realized I'd been suffocating without her.
Her lips were soft, her tongue warm. She wrapped her arms around my neck and held me against her. This could go on forever. The feel of her warm skin on my hands filled me with life, and the sounds of her desire urged me on.
In an instant, she lay beneath me naked, her body bare for me to appreciate. To love. To worship like my life depended on it. She wrapped her legs around my waist and locked her ankles together to keep me there, like she'd always done, as if she were afraid I'd disappear. But it was her I was scared would vanish … more so than she already had.
I filled her and swallowed her approval. She felt like heaven. Like home. Like all was right in the world. Her nails dug into my skin and urged me on. I couldn't get enough of this woman.