Page 70 of Lust For

Derek sits down on the couch and pulls me into him. I cuddle up beside him while he strokes my hair.

“So, are we doing this?” I ask him.

He sighs. “I don’t know. I’m worried.”

“I can tell. Did that help clear your mind at all?” I tease.

He chuckles. “Yes, it did.”

“Where did you go? I tried to get in touch with you.”

“I know. I saw.” He doesn’t answer the question, which makes me almost afraid to even hear it. Did he find someone else to also help clear his head in the moment?

“So where were you?” I ask again.

He sighs. “I was just out driving around and clearing my head. I needed it.”

“There’s that phrase again,” I remark.

“Which one?”

“Clearing your head. I thought that was what we just did. Do you have someone here in town that helped you clear your head too?”

“No, no,” he says. His mouth is agape, and he’s staring at me like he can’t believe I would think that. “How can you ask me that?”

“I’m just asking a question. Just trying to get a little bit of information out of you. I didn’t realize it was such a big deal.”

He rises and begins to put his clothes on. I sit there dumbfounded as he gets dressed and heads out the back door. I throw my clothes on quickly and follow him.

“Derek, what the hell?” I call.

He’s down on the beach, just before the surf, standing on the hard sand and staring out at the ocean. I go stand beside him, unsure of what’s going on.

“Derek,” I say in the quiet of the night, hoping for some kind of an explanation.

“I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I just feel this strong sense of pressure. This big sense of responsibility to do the right thing here. And I’m not sure that I am doing the right thing.”

“We’re consenting adults,” I remind him for what feels like the hundredth time.

“I know that. But Ace will never forgive me for this.”

“I thought you weren’t worried about that right now.”

“It’s so easy to say when you’re lying beneath me, but the reality of it all smacks me in the face as soon as our clothes are back on.”

“What happened in there?” I ask him.

“The picture of the three of us playing in the surf. The canvas that your parents had made that you haven’t taken down yet.”

I nod, knowing exactly which one he means. It was taken the first summer we met Derek. My parents took him to the beach with us. He hadn’t been on a vacation in years, and they wanted to do something nice for him. I felt bad for him when my parents told me the reason why he was coming with us. He was such a fun-loving kid, so easy to get along with. I couldn’t believe that someone who was so fun to be around and smiled the way he did had such a life. The picture was taken while we were running the surf. My mom called our names, telling us it was time to come in for dinner. At the exact moment we turned to look at her, my dad snapped the picture.

I love the photo. I have it hanging in my own house, too. I know I need to take it down in the beach house, but it’s always made anywhere I am feel like home.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t being fair to you tonight,” I remark. “I’m being selfish here. You stand to lose your livelihood. That can’t be easy.”

“It’s not.”

“Do you think he’d really turn his back on the band? On all that you two have built together?” I ask.

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