Page 19 of Implode

“Oh Nic, you still there?” When I don’t answer, she sighs. “I can hear you breathing.”

“Forgiving implies that I care. And Tara? I don’t care. Move on with your life. I did.”

“I’ve tried. I just keep thinking about what we could have been,” she says dreamily.

“That ship has sailed. I’m never getting back with you.”You ruined my life and my vision of the future.

“That’s too bad. I just thought—”

“Don’t call me again. We are over.” I disconnect the call and toss my device onto the pillow beside my head.

I drift back into a lazy weekend sleep, with thoughts of Claire’s lush body pressing up against mine. I float to a time when things were easy. Fun. The rush of anticipation leading up to each kiss. The yearning for more. Teasing. Persuading. My lips glide against hers, drawing her body close to mine. It is like two bodies becoming one. Her sweet moans driving me further, pushing me to peel off each article of her clothing—one by one.

It’s like her body was made for my eyes, my hands, and my wild fantasies.

Her fingers trail over my shoulders, up my neck, and around to the back of my head. She can’t get enough of me and the feeling’s mutual. My tongue slips inside her mouth with her inhale. What starts off as slow and sweet quickly turns into urgent and wanton. I nip at her bottom lip and then quickly suck on it to ease the sting. My hands roam over her naked body, enjoying the goose bumps that form from each touch. Every inch of her responds to me.

I roll her so she is on top of me, her weight pinning me to the mattress. I look up into her beautifully expressive eyes and am overcome by an emotion I have claimed to have experienced before but never to this magnitude.

“Claire, I love you.”

As soon as the words hit my brain, I thrust my body upward, launching myself out of the daze. My breaths come out in pants and my heart struggles to slow. I hear a buzzing in my ears and feel lightheaded. What is wrong with me? It was just a dream.

A damn good dream, but still a dream.

Sweat beads on my forehead, and I propel myself out of bed and make my way into the ensuite. I turn on the water for the shower and allow it to heat while I am under the spray. I rub at the back of my neck and try to make sense over what I said during my sleep. I’m not one of those people who looks for hidden meanings. There’s no reason to psychoanalyze every single thing. Yet, here I am, standing in the shower trying to figure out my feelings.

Despite being someone who gets easily bored, I doubt I ever would with Claire. She is infiltrating both my waking thoughts and my subconscious ones. Even in my sleep, I am aroused and unable to escape her.

Maybe having the conversation with Tara has made everything jumbled in my head. At no point will I ever go back to her. I can’t even believe she hasn’t moved on already with someone else. While I said I’ve moved on, in reality, I am very much still single.

That relationship status title never used to bother me. However, in this moment, it feels…

Uncertain?

Sad?

Final.

I lost Claire. And I doubt there will ever be another woman who will make me feel the way she has. I pushed her away and gave her a reason to never trust me again. My plan worked.

Too well.

What my brain wants and what my heart wants are in direct competition with one another. I know I shouldn’t get involved with any woman long-term. No one deserves to be with someone who is broken inside like I am. But I also know that I cannot stay away from Claire voluntarily. Everything she does is intriguing. I thought I could have a taste and it would quench my thirst enough to let her go. Instead, it has created a hunger inside of me that has only grown stronger with each passing day.

But do I love her? No. Love implies commitment and that is something I doubt I will ever want again.

I know I need help. That much is obvious.

I finish up in the shower, dry off, and put on a pair of lounge clothes. I have some work I need to catch up on in the home office, but at least I can do it in comfort.

As I am sending my last email, the doorbell rings. I open my app to check the camera and am shocked to see Penny standing with Collins. I jog down the hall and quickly open the door to my sister who is bursting at the seams with excitement.

“Surprise!” she says, jumping into my arms.

I catch her and spin her around once, placing her back on her feet. I give her a once-over and shoot Collins a look that could only be described aswhat the hell?

“She convinced Graham to let her surprise you with her temporary release,” he answers carefully.

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