Page 35 of Decoded
Keaton. The man I’m here for. The man I love. I dash around his house, finding myself in rooms more stunning than the last. He’s not in the dining room, living room, office, or bathroom. Climbing the stairs, I’m out of breath and take a moment to hunch over and catch my breath. That’s when I hear it. The spray of the shower.
I follow the sound of the water to the master suite, and I can’t help but whimper at how perfect it looks. It’s like Keaton was
inside my head when he designed this beautiful home. The Alaskan King size bed is centered on the wall and if things go the way I want, I will definitely be exploring it later.
My lusty dreams are halted when I realize the sound of running water is no longer filling the space. I turn and face the door of the master bedroom. The door that’s slowly opening. The door that my husband is stepping out of. With nothing but a towel around his waist and water droplets dripping down his chest.
I want to lick them off him.
I want to snatch that towel and sink to my knees in front of him.
But more than I want that right now, I want him to know how I feel.
When his head comes up to see me, he startles and jumps back. “Fuck, Baby. You scared me.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, but secretly I’m not sorry at all because what a fucking view.
He shakes his head. “No Baby, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m sorry for leaving you in Vegas. I’m sorry for ruining the job you were so excited about. I’m sorry for wanting you when I know you don’t feel the same.”
“You’re wrong,” I cut him off.
He cocks his head and looks at me, crushed and confused.
“You’re wrong about me not wanting you the way you want me. I want you so much it hurts. I’ve always wanted you. Even when I tried so fucking hard to hate you, I couldn’t. Do you know why, Keaton? Do you know why I couldn’t hate you?”
He doesn’t answer. He just stares at me, so I tell him. I tell him the truth.
“Because I fucking love you. I love you so much, Keaton.” My breath escapes me as I choke on sobs, not having realized that tears are streaming down my face. I wipe at them furiously, mad that they’re interrupting my moment. When I regain my composure, I speak again to the man who is just standing there staring at me.
“You said you couldn’t have me until I was ready to have you. You said you couldn’t have me until I love you the way you love me.” I wipe away the rogue tears once more. “Well here I am, Keaton. Wanting you. Loving you. So have me. Take me. I’m yours.”
My chest heaves as I take in the beautiful man across the room from me. He stands there motionless for several moments before the corner of his lip curves up into that sinful smirk of his.
“Fucking finally.”
Chapter twenty-five
Keaton
“K
eaton Fisher.” Mr. Scottsdale, the high school principal, stepped into my biology class at the end of the day. “Can you collect your things and come with me, please?” The “oos” of my classmates didn’t bother me as I did what the principal asked. I know I hadn’t done anything wrong, but when I stepped out in the hallway and saw my younger brother Lincoln standing there, I had no doubt he did something wrong. I swear if he jeopardizes my scholarship because he pulled some dumbass prank, I’m gonna kick his ass. “What did you do?” I accuse him and he holds up his hands. “Don’t come at me like that, I am just as confused as you are.” We follow our principal to his office, where the sheriff and the guidance counselor are seated. The door clicks behind us as we step in, the space suddenly becoming a lot smaller. “Boys, we brought you in here because unfortunately we have some bad news.” My brother and I look at each other unsure what the hell could be going on. “Earlier today there was a bad accident out on the interstate. Unfortunately, that accident involvedyour father.” “Is our dad okay?” Lincoln asks. Mrs. Grimes, the guidance counselor, begins to cry and shakes her head. “Boys, I’m so sorry.” “Where’s our dad?” I ask and the sheriff looks over at us. “Your dad didn’t survive the crash, boys. He’s passed. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
I scrub at my skin until it’s raw, trying to erase the painful memory from my mind. Instead, another one crashes into me.
“Hey, Mom, I’m home!” I call out to the house where we all live. For now, anyway. The company my brothers and I have started together is slowly building and I see big things for our future. I walk further into the house, but my mom isn’t perched on the couch in her usual spot. Hmm, maybe she’s taking a nap. Heading into her bedroom just to make sure she’s okay, I find my mother in her bed, pale and breathing shallowly, covered in her own vomit. Was she sick? Is it a bug? “Mama, you feeling okay?” There’s no response from her. I walk over and place my hand against her forehead and she’s burning up. Fuck. She was fine this morning. “Mama,” I say again, but she doesn’t react. That’s when I see it. The empty prescription bottle in the bed next to her. I call 911 and then Lincoln. Cam is hours away at law school, so I’ll have to catch him up later. It feels like hours before the ambulance shows up, even though my phone shows that I only called six minutes ago. I stood back to let the paramedics take over. Lincoln was on his way and as soon as he arrived, I hopped in his car, and we followed the emergency vehicle to the hospital in the next town over. They pumped her stomach but ultimately sent her to Lexington where she spent several weeks in recovery and we found out what happened. She had gone into town that morning for her monthly hair appointment down at the Clip n’ Curl, followed by lunch with some ladies in town. Apparently, she had complained about not being able to sleep without my dad beside her anymore, so one of them offered her some pills to try and help. What hadactually happened was she overdosed on them as she tried to take the pain away, and then when we finally got her better and discharged from the hospital, we brought her home and she never left it again.
A roar comes out of me as I blink back the tears that burn in my eyes. I try to remind myself of the positives. Mama is here. She’s okay. She made it.
Anna sits beside me on the plane, her thick thigh brushing against mine, and all I want to do is reach out and touch her so badly. I want to tell her that I’m sorry and there was nowhere else I wanted to be than with her. But the look of hatred on her face has me keeping my hands and words to myself. “I don’t want to speak to you.” Her words sliced my skin, sharper than any blade ever could. “I don’t want you to speak to me.” Another cut, deeper this time. “We are going to fly home and go our separate ways.” Knowing I had lost the only woman I ever felt this way for was the final blow. I open my mouth to say something, anything to make her believe me. But she’s right. I hurt her. I’m the problem. I don’t deserve her.
Physically and emotionally exhausted from my memory-laden shower, I turn off the water, ready to get in bed and try to sleep off the pain that has crept up in my chest. As I step out of the bathroom, a figure stands in front of my bed. I jump back but then see it’s the curvy goddess I’m head over heels for.
I listen to her confession, holding my breath the entire time she tells me what I’ve longed to hear.
She loves me.
“Fucking finally,” I say and take pleasure in the gasp that sounds from perfect lips as I rush to her, palming the back of her neck and crashing my lips to hers in a fierce, fiery passion. It’s not enough. I need more of her. I need all of her. And I need it right fucking now.
