Page 52 of Say You Love Me

I roll my eyes. I fed her less than an hour ago. She can’t be hungry already. “Maybe she needs a diaper change.” I flick my eyes towards the microwave, checking on its progress. I’ll have plenty of time to change her before dinner is ready. “Would you get…” But he’s already gone.

Jiggling Calla in one arm, I walk into the living room and lay her on the change table, peeking inside her diaper. It’s fresh and dry.

“See, baby girl? You’re fine.” I lift her back to my chest, her head resting on my shoulder, her body pressed to mine. She’s still crying somewhat, so I sway back and forth, patting her back gently. “Shh. Shh. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Overhead I hear the groan of the pipes as the shower is turned on. For some reason, the noise just makes Calla cry harder.

I start to sing. Softly at first, but then louder in an effort to be heard over her wail. It’s a recent song, and the lyrics aren’t at all suitable to be singing to a baby, but she seems to like it. I change the position of her, cradling her in my arms and pulling funny faces as I make up lyrics when my memory fails me.

She’s stopped crying altogether now and is staring up at me with a solemn expression, studying the way my mouth is moving. And then, although it’s brief, she smiles.

chapter twenty-three

NOW

~

HUSDON

I must be sick. Twisted. There’s got to be something wrong. Surely it can’t be normal for me to be obsessed as I am, but I cannot stop thinking about it. It was everything I’d hoped for and more. It aroused and enraged me. It’s a strange mixture, but one that allows me to feel without guilt.

The night with Rylee has given me permission to think of my wife again. To touch her. To want her. I still don’t allow myself everything. I’m not ready for that. But I allow myself to kiss her in the mornings. I allow myself to smile and talk, to sit next to her on the couch, to not feel anger when I see her smile.

But I need some sort of distraction that’s not Finity. I need something to take my mind away from replaying the images of Rylee between her legs, his mouth on her, his fingers inside her. Because when I look at her, that’s all I see. And I want more. I want to see him inside her. I want to see the rapture on his face. I want to live through him.

Lifting my hand, I knock on the door. Liam opens it almost immediately, a bottle of beer in his hands.

“Megan out?” I ask. She usually is on a Thursday night. Something about a book club, or a business meeting or maybe it’s dog training. Whatever the reason, Liam’s usually home alone, and he provides the perfect way to escape the mess that is my mind.

Liam merely opens the door, standing aside to let me in. I follow him through to the living room and flop myself onto the couch, content to let whatever sport playing on the TV drown out my thoughts.

Sookie races over as soon as she spots me. She lets out a little growl when she gets close, but I allow her to sniff my hand and her tail starts wagging in that lopsided way. Clearly it’s not dog training that Megan does on a Thursday.

“Before you get too comfortable, Ava’s here.” No sooner have the words left Liam’s mouth than Ava appears in the doorway. She must be staying the night, as she’s dressed in shorty pajamas that look entirely too small for her.

“Speak of the devil,” Liam mutters, getting up to grab me a beer.

“Hudson.” Ava grins, skipping across to plop herself down on the couch. She tucks one foot under the thigh of her other leg, letting her knee press against my side.

“Haven’t you got your own house?” I know my words are blunt, but the last person I feel like dealing with right now is Ava.

“Not anymore,” she says. I know she wants me to ask more, ask her to tell me why, but I don’t. Liam pushes a bottle into my hands. I twist off the top and throw it at the wood basket beside the fireplace. It hits the edge before tipping in.

“So?” There’s an excitement to Ava’s voice. “How have you been?” She smirks and that’s when the memory of seeing her at the nightclub flashes through my mind. In all that had happened, I’d forgotten that she’d been there. I’d forgotten that she’d seen Rylee’s hands all over Finity while I watched. My only hope is that she was as drunk as she usually is when she goes out and the memory is fuzzy. Judging from the look on her face though, she remembers something.

“Fine. You?” I grunt.

Her smirk grows wider. “Oh, you know. This and that. Here and there.”

She definitely remembers. She shuffles closer and her knee presses into my lap, dangerously close to my groin. I try to move away, but I’m already pressed against the arm of the couch, so there’s nowhere else to go.

I drain my beer in one go. Liam raises his brows but doesn’t say anything, he just gets me another. But as soon as he passes it to me, he announces he’s going outside for a smoke. I attempt to get up and follow him but Ava clutches my arm.

“Don’t you think we should talk?” She batters her eyelashes and I resist the urge to laugh as I sink back into the couch.

She’s still clutching my arm, her knee pressed against my upper thigh, digging dangerously close. She knows exactly what she’s doing, but I pretend that I don’t. I ignore the proximately of her knee, the glint to her eye.

“What do you want to talk about?”

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