Chapter 3

I reached into my back pocket again, took out my wallet, and gave it to her. “You have everything in there—my ID, pilot’s license, credit cards, debit card, and over a thousand in cash. If something happens to her, you can hand it over to the police. Except for the cash; you keep that.” She looked up from her palm where it was all resting and eventually said, “Fair enough.” My stare returned to Alix. “Please give me your hand.” She lifted it off her lap, and as it moved through the air, I caught it and flipped her hand around. As I held her palm face up, I took a pen out of my jacket and pressed it against her skin, running the tip length-wise. When I finally released her, she looked at it to see what I had written. “Your phone number?” I nodded. “You could have typed it into my cell.” “That’s too impersonal.” “And writing on my hand isn’t?” Out of all the questions, she’d asked that one. “I got to touch you,” I said, my tongue circling the corner of my lip from the memory of what she had felt like. “And then I got to watch and feel the way you responded to me.” She searched my eyes, her cheeks beginning to redden. “I could be married.” I didn’t care if she was. That was how strongly I felt for this girl after being in her presence for only a minute. “Then, don’t call me. Or do. The decision is up to you.” When I took a few steps toward Rose, Alix said, “Where are you going?” I waited for Rose to put my wallet on top of my hand before I said, “The airport. I have a plane to fly.” “You’re a pilot.” She didn’t say it as though she were questioning me. She said it like she was storing the information, cementing it in her brain even though this was the second time I’d told her. “I’m many things,” I answered, and then I left the restaurant. Thirty-eight minutes later, I was in the air. ALIX PRESENT DAY MY TOWNHOUSE WAS ONLY six blocks from the restaurant—too close to get a car service, just far enough away to fill my body with fresh air. So, after having dinner with Rose, I walked home, taking in the smells and sounds and sights of the city. Boston was never quiet. I appreciated that. Silence was like moisture; it created an environment that allowed things to grow. Fester. Eat into the walls and foundation. I didn’t want to give my thoughts that kind of space and freedom inside my brain. I knew they’d never go away, but I wanted them to stay dormant for the rest of my life. Therefore, I preferred the loudness, especially when it seeped through the windows of my brownstone and padded the rooms with noise. There seemed to be an extra dose of it this evening, which excited me as I continued to head home. When I turned onto my block, my speed increased, and I hurried up the five steps. I unlocked the door. Keys were placed in a bowl on a table in the entryway, and I set my bag on the closest barstool in the kitchen. There was a note from Dylan on the counter. I smiled as I read it and grabbed the bottle of red that was next to it. When my eyes landed on the last word, I filled a glass and carried it into the bedroom. My jewelry was dumped in a drawer on the right side of the closet, my clothes in the hamper, my shoes wherever they landed on the floor. Without stopping in the bathroom to brush my teeth or wash off my makeup, I brought the wine over to the bed, and I climbed in. Once I was settled, I reached toward the tablet on the nightstand, pressing the button that flipped off the lights and another that turned on the TV. HGTV. That was all I ever watched. While I was still sitting up, I took a few sips of wine, my lower body sinking into the mattress, my muscles slowly starting to relax. Once the feeling moved toward my center, I set the glass next to the tablet and slid until my head was nestled into the fluffy down of the pillow. I tugged the blanket up to my neck, and the warmth of the wine began to move to my face. My eyes closed. I rolled onto my stomach, the coolness of the top sheet now resting over my bare ass. Just as I was hugging a pillow against my side, I heard him. I smiled again. And then I exhaled a long, deep sigh. “I’ve missed you, Dylan,” I whispered. “I’ve missed you.” He was here. With me. That was the only thing I wanted. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he added. That made me shiver. Even harder. I felt movement, and the blanket shifted. Then, suddenly, he was on top of me. His smell. His touch. His presence. I loved all of it. While I stayed on my stomach, his mouth traveled down my back, peppering my spine with kisses. It forced my lips to spread almost as wide as my legs. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Alix.” Oh God. My arm shot out from under the pillow, and it feathered down the front of me until two of my fingertips were pressed against my clit. “I want you,” I moaned. My hips shifted higher to give him more access, his tip easily finding my wetness. He growled in my ear, and then I heard, “You’re going to get all of me.” I swallowed. And then I gasped as his long thickness thrust deep inside me. It was perfection. So was the sensation that consumed my entire body, the tingles that spread to each of my limbs. Emotion burned my chest. And, with each stroke, my pussy pulsed even more. “I love you,” I breathed. It was true. I loved him more than anything in this entire world. He knew that. I constantly told him. “I love you, too, Alix.” He always made his feelings extremely clear, and they were as strong as mine. The prickling in my navel moved higher, the pulsing in my clit began to really throb. My hair was pulled, and my face came out of the pillow; warm air surrounded it, and I felt his kisses on my neck and along my shoulder and all the way up my cheek. It wasn’t just the intimacy I craved. It was the affection, too. And the build. I was there. So close.