Page 33 of Crash

“You know, Vivienne, you said plenty of shit to me too, but that’s no excuse for how I treated you. I’m better than that. I don’t know why I said those things.”

“You said them because you mean them. You think I’m nothing.” And I don’t know why I care what he thinks, but I do, and I pray he didn’t notice that my voice cracked, or sense the tears threatening to fall down my cheeks.

I become immobilized when he puts a hand on my shoulder. A wave of warmth shoots through my entire body. I want to shrug his hand away, but I don’t. I can’t. Slowly, he spins me around to face him.

“I don’t think you’re nothing. I don’t think you’re insignificant or irrelevant.” He puts a finger underneath my chin and slowly moves my face upward. When my eyes clash with his, neither one of us can look away.

“When I think about you, I just can’t—” He stops speaking. It’s as if he’s unable to find the words, but he doesn’t look away. He continues to look into my eyes. I try to move my face, but he doesn’t let me. He holds my gaze and looks at me as if he’s seeing me for the first time. “I don’t know what happened. Your phone rang and I just—” He doesn’t finish his sentence. He lowers his face slowly, then he raises it again, asking me with his eyes. I stand still, unmoving, unblinking. He lowers his head faster this time, and gently brushes his lips with mine. The kiss starts off slow, just his soft lips searching mine.

I open my mouth to take a breath. In that second, everything changes. His tongue finds his way in my mouth. Unable to resist anymore, I kiss him back. I wrap both arms around him, stand on my toes, and devour his mouth. He tastes of rum and mint and smells of expensive cologne.

Unable to stand on my toes any longer, I surprise him by jumping into his arms, wrapping both legs around him. He moves me to the dresser, knocking some contents onto the floor, all without breaking the kiss. His hand finds its way up my shirt, cupping one breast in his large palm. I slide my hands from his hair, down across his chest and abs. I lift his shirt up and slide my hand down his pants and grab onto his thick cock.

He lets out a loud groan, and I bite his bottom lip as I feel my desire coating my panties. I scoot to the edge of the dresser and pull him between my legs. He squeezes a nipple as I grind into him. He kisses my cheeks and the side of my throat, surprising me by biting and then sucking the base of my neck.

His hand leaves my breast and I groan in protest. He shuts me up by slamming his mouth on mine again as his hand travels down my stomach. He reaches the edge of my panties and pulls on the elastic.

“Yes,” I moan. The moment his hand makes contact with my moist flesh, my phone breaks the spell. The loud ringing brings us out of our lust-filled haze, and as if we’ve both been burned, we quickly pull away from each other. I jump off the dresser and reach for my phone, shutting it off.

“Leave,” I manage to croak out.

Without a word, he walks out of my room, slamming the door behind him.

CHAPTER 16

VIVI

I press my ear to the door of my bedroom, anxious for Jake and Sandy to end their discussion and leave.

“I’ve been walking since I was one, and driving since I was sixteen, Jacob. I’ve never had an accident. I’ve never even had a speeding ticket. Can you say the same?” I can’t see her, but I can imagine the eye she’s giving her husband right about now.

“You’re stubborn. I’ve known this since the night we met, but I’m not changing my mind. I’m driving you to work. I’m walking you inside and I’m picking you up tonight.” I don’t hear anything for several seconds. Then I hear footsteps and the sound of a door opening. It’s not the front door, but I’m hoping it’s the coat closet.

“You don’t want to know what I thought of you the first night we met. This is ridiculous. We live in Boston. It snows here. You’re acting like a madman.”

“Fine. I’m a madman who is taking his wife to and from work. It’s icy and I don’t want you falling, Dee. No arguments.”

I hear some shuffling, followed by more footsteps. Finally, the front door opens and closes. I open my bedroom door, poke my head out and look up and down the hall. The coast is clear of humans, but the dogs run to me and follow me into the master bedroom.

I hate myself for doing this, but I have no choice. The master bedroom is huge and usually immaculate, but today, the bed has been left unmade. I notice the clothes they had on last night are scattered throughout the room. I tiptoe into the walk-in closet and open one of the drawers, the one that has all of Sandy’s scarves. I look through until I find one that will work with the outfit I have on. I prefer dark colors to Sandy’s favorite color, but the scarf with pink flowers will have to do for today.

I curse when I see the Hermes label on it, but these are desperate times. Hopefully, no one will notice, and I won’t spill anything on it. As I walk out of the room, I ignore the urge to look at the messy bed, otherwise, I would fix it and give myself away.

“Come on, guys,” I say as the dogs follow me back to my room. I tie the scarf around my neck, hiding the bite mark Luke left.

When I woke up this morning, I had convinced myself what happened last night was a nightmare, but the hickey proved otherwise. I tie the scarf a little tighter and walk out of my bedroom. After making a sandwich for lunch and a quick breakfast, I pull out of the driveway as Jake is returning from dropping Sandy off.

We wave at each other, and I wonder why he drove her to work today. It can’t just be because it’s a little icy, but it probably is. That would be such a Jake thing to do. Last week, Sandy tripped over one of the doggie toys, and Jake almost lost his mind. He fussed at the dogs like they were kids instead of animals and threw their toys in the garage. Then, he carried Sandy to the couch and rubbed her feet for about half an hour.

The three-mile drive to the office only takes a few minutes, and as I slowly walk through the icy parking lot, I think of Jake holding Sandy’s hand as he walks her into work, and wonder what it would be like to have someone love you so much they do these kinds of things for you just to make your life easier.

Relieved to reach the warm air of the building, I put my coat away and run to the kitchen to put my lunch in the fridge. As I help myself to the free coffee and wait for my cup to brew, I have my back turned to the door, but soon heavy footsteps approach. The familiar smell of his expensive cologne gives him away, but I don’t bother to face him, instead choosing to focus on stirring my beverage. My silent prayers asking that he leave the small space go unanswered.

“Good morning, Vivienne,” he says, his voice tentative.

“Good morning, Mr. Clark,” I respond.

I hear a thud on one of the tables, followed by a long sigh.

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