Page 42 of Sterling Touch
Sensing him looking at me again, I stare at the windshield. “I didn’t . . . then.” This is the most surreal conversation, ever, and I close my eyes. Twelve years of silence and this is what we discuss? Orgasms. Who came when and how. Or not.
For the longest time after that morning in the woods, Iblamed Cort. We shouldn’t have had sex. He wasn’t in the right head space, like he just said. But my mind was off as well, because I’d built Cort up, made him the man of my dreams, and the reality paled in comparison, through no fault of his own. The hard truth was he didn’t reciprocate my feelings. Our actions were not about emotion or connection. At least, not deeply lasting ones. Just lust and false hope and displaced trust.
Cort didn’t hurt me. He hurt my feelings. FeelingsI’dcreated about him. I didn’t come because I can’t.
Anxiously licking my lips, I decide to give him more than I probably should. “For the longest time, Cort, I had the biggest crush on you.” I literally squirm on the heated leather seat with the admission. Like I’m still in my early teens and I’m revealing a secret. Holding my breath like he might return the sentiment. So juvenile. So embarrassing, because I know the truth. He doesn’t.
“You what?” he whispers.
“Honestly, it felt like forever. And forever ago. But when I saw you in Milton Roadhouse that night, making eyes at me—” My flannel covered hands curl around the edge of the seat, like I need something to hold on to, something to hold me back, from pouncing like I wanted to back then.
“I knew you’d never act on anything. You’d be respectful and distant like you’d been since I was ten. But for just a blip, a hungry blink, I thought you might have noticed me. Like really saw me.” My voice squeaks. “As more than Stone’s forbidden sister, and more than the little kid who buzzed around the two of you.”
I swallow the emotion clogging my throat and barrel on with my confession.
“And then suddenly you were there by the falls, in my sacred spot. Like what kind of weird divine intervention was that?” I chuckle bitterly. “I got wrapped up in my head, thinkingthe Universe sent you to me. I knew you were hurting then.” His divorce. His injury. “And yet I hoped I could heal you somehow.”
Likepoof!My magical vagina would save him. One touch and I’d make him forget he ever ached over his ex-wife or lost his football career.
And one touch from him, and I’d be cured as well. I wouldn’t be pent-up and repressed and fighting against what everyone told me happened naturally when a man touches you in intimate places.
“I was young.” My voice falters. “Foolish.” Surely, he remembers being twenty-two himself, and the stupid things he did. The mistakes he made.
But for whatever reason, I continue about me. “And I’ve learned that I can’t get there”—I wave around my lap before quickly returning my hand to clutch the edge of the seat—“without more.”
“More?” He risks a sharp glance at me. His tone is a bit firmer. Not angry. Just curious. “Like what?”
Love. Affection. Companionship. Things that can’t be asked for but need to be given. Freely. Liberally. Unconditionally.
I shake my head, drained from the open confession and refusing to spell out anything deeper. “It doesn’t matter.”
Sneaking a peek at him, I see his jaw tick, his hand white-knuckling the steering wheel.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, although I’m not certain what I’m apologizing for. My failure during sexy times? My desire for extra from a partner? Like I’m ashamed I want more for myself. More from someone else. Suddenly, I feel sick and it’s not the beers sloshing around my stomach after only having a hot pretzel at the concert.
“I’mfucking sorry,” he blurts, glancing at me one more time before drawing his eyes back to the road. “It’s bad enough that I fucking?—”
Wept, I finish. My shoulders slump forward before I release the edge of the seat and slouch back, crossing my arms over my midsection, then moving my hands to the hem of my skirt, tugging at the short material that reveals too much leg while remembering more details.
Cort cried into my neck after we had sex. He apologized then, like a hundred times, but he also ran away from me without an explanation. For the tears. For the spur-of-the-moment action.
All these years, I’ve still wondered why we did what we did. And why he cried afterward.
My issue seems inconsequential compared to those bigger questions, but I’m talked out, wrung out, like I’ve confessed my soul.
For once, I’m at a loss for words and stare out the side window the remainder of our drive.
18
[Cort]
We drive in silence the remainder of the way to Sterling Falls.
Everything in me said to keep driving. Take Vale to my place in Rogue River, and get her where I failed to take her, physically.
But mentally? Emotionally? I’d been an even bigger failure. I’d had no idea how she felt about me, and I have so many questions. Forever, she’d said. Like since childhood? But obviously, it subsided, right? Her brother and I had a huge falling out, to put it mildly.
You saw me. As more than her brother’s sister. As more than an annoying child.
