Page 71 of Beautiful Desire
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Georgia
“I’m so proud of you!” My stepmom comes up behind Fletcher and wraps her arms around him, squeezing him tight.
Fletcher huffs a small chuckle, a grin tugging on his lips. “Thanks, Mom.”
He graduated today. The whole family drove down to Charleston to be here and watch him cross that stage, and it was amazing. He worked so hard, especially this last semester, and it was a proud moment seeing it pay off.
I’m a ball of nerves and emotions today—this entire week, actually—because on the one hand, Iamso unbelievably proud of him. For the growth he’s made, the dedication he put in, but also because he’s reaching the dream he’s had since he was a kid. But on the other, my stomach is in knots, sitting across from him at this restaurant, knowing tonight is the end of it…of us.
Although, it feels like the end already happened. Since we had the conversation about how we’re both going back to our own lives after tonight, we’ve barely been around each other.More specifically, Fletcher’s been avoiding me. Whenever he’s home, he’s in his room with the door closed, and when we were at work at the same time, there was no coming into my office to flirt with me, no heated glances across the floor. And we’ve only had sex once since that conversation.
I don’t even know if we’re going to see each other tonight, when we can be alone. He’s staying with his dad, and while I’m in a hotel downtown and could realistically invite him over, there’s a small voice in the back of my mind telling me Fletcher’s over the situation, and that’s why he’s been so distant. My pride won’t let me ask him to come to my room tonight, even though I want him to, because the thought of putting myself out there, only to be rejected by him is too much.
We’re nearing the end of our meal when Alden stands up and clanks the side of his glass, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Tonight, we celebrate not just a milestone, but a promise kept. Fletcher, from the time you were born, I knew you were meant to be something great. I won’t pretend I haven’t had high expectations for you. I have, and I always will. Not because I doubt you, but because I know what you are capable of. And today, you are a man who has met challenges head-on, pushed past limits, and proven how much hard work can pay off. I’m proud of you, Son.”
Fletcher’s cheeks are a deep shade of red as he smiles up at his dad. I know how much Alden’s words mean to him, even if they’re absolute bullshit.“Not because I doubt you.”
Yeah, okay.
Then Alden turns his attention to me as he continues. “And Georgia, I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for my son. You pushed him, guided him, and helped him see his full potential. I’m sure the last several months haven’t been easy, but you did it anyway. So, thank you.”
My eyes drop from Alden to his son, finding Fletcher already watching me. His gaze is intense, causing my heart rate to pick up speed as goosebumps scatter across my arms. I wish I knew what he was thinking, but I can’t read him. Everyone around the table claps and cheers before drinking to the toast, and then he drops the eye contact, looking over at my dad sitting beside him as he wraps an arm around Fletcher’s shoulders. He and Denise still haven’t said a word about the day they dropped by a few weeks ago, so maybe they really have no idea after all.
After we finish eating and the bill is paid, we all go our separate ways, with a plan to meet up again for brunch in the morning. Back in my room at the hotel, I take a long, hot shower, washing off the day, while my phone is practically calling my name from the counter the entire time.
I want to text him, but I can’t bring myself to do it.
I wanthimto text me, but I don’t think he will.
I’ve never felt more torn. The decision I made was necessary. It was for the best. So, why do I feel so gutted? And why am I drowning in unease? Shouldn’t I feel relief? Shouldn’t doing therightthing feel good, like a weight lifted off my shoulders? I don’t feel either of those things.
Maybe I just need time. Fletcher and I have spent months getting close, learning very intimate parts of ourselves, and seeing as how I haven’t spentthatmuch time with somebody I was sleeping with since Timmy, maybe I do just need to give it time. If there’s one thing this situation has taught me, it’s that I had the right idea staying single. I was smart to never keep somebody around more than a few hookups.
Although, the only thing this realization does is solidify that I’m probably never going to spend my life with somebody. It solidifies that I’m too damaged to let somebody in, even if Iwantto. Because that’s clearly what’s happening here. I deniedit in my mind for weeks, lied to myself, made myself believe I couldn’t ever feel that way.
But I do. I care about Fletcher way deeper than I ever thought I could, and no amount of gaslighting myself is going to change that, or make it go away. Yet it doesn’t change the fact that my mind, or my heart, or whatever it is inside of me, won’t let me go there. Fifteen years later, and I’m still broken. I’m almost forty years old, and I don’t know how to let somebody in. I don’t know how to be loved.
How fucking pathetic.
Out of the shower, I slip into the hotel robe, then make sure all my things are together for tomorrow. I’m heading back to Blossom Beach after brunch, so I have to check out of the room beforehand, and I already know I’m not going to want to pack first thing. As I’m about to climb into bed and call it a night, I hear a knock at the door. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, it’s after ten. Assuming it’s one of my sisters, I pad across the floor, unlock the deadbolt, and pull the door open without bothering to check the peephole.
My chest tightens, breath getting caught in my throat, because it’s not one of my sisters waiting on the other side.
“Hi,” I breathe. “What are you doing here?”
Hands stuffed in his pockets, Fletcher shrugs. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah, of course.” I step to the side, letting him walk past me. “Is everything okay?”
Locking the deadbolt, I turn and face him when he doesn’t respond. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Fletcher nods, and then before I even realize what’s happening, he’s on me. My back collides with the door as his lips crash onto mine. His hands come up beside my head as his tongue slips into my mouth, and once my mind catches up, my hands wrap around his middle, bringing his body as close to mine as possible.
His lips sensually dance with mine, breathing life into me, and I melt against this door. It’s been too long since Fletcher kissed me like this, and I’m starving. Hands coming to the hem of his white t-shirt, I pull the fabric up until we have no choice but to part as I rip it off of him and let it fall to the floor. His eyes meet mine, dark and longing, filled with hunger and something else entirely… Something much more affectionate.
“I need you.” The words are spoken like a confession as he unties my robe, sliding his hands under the terry cloth until it falls from my frame, leaving me naked in front of him. Taking a single step back, just enough to see all of me, Fletcher’s eyes rake appreciatively down the length of my body. Every inch of me is scorching as his gaze caresses me like a physical touch. My nipples pebble, heat racing down my spine and pooling between my thighs. Brows drawn inward, Fletcher brings his attention back up to my face. “Fuck, Peach, look at you.”
A shiver wracks through me when he pinches my nipple between his fingers, tugging on the hardened bud until I gasp. Then both hands are on my breasts, palming them, his touch electric. “Fletcher,” I moan, squeezing my thighs together to relieve some of the ache, but it doesn’t help.
