Page 57 of Legs

“I’ll toast to that.”

I didn’t mention how rough I’d been, or how I’d met another woman, one who was real and beautiful and had opened my eyes to the world. That not driving to her place and convincing her to give us a proper chance was killing me. Righting the wrong my family was intent on denying would be the only bright spot in my near future.

We finished our drinks, another round ordered as we caught up, painting the broad strokes of our lives. Turned out Owen was tired of working insane hours and planned to get into carpentry, a skill he’d developed since school. He wanted to make furniture and volunteer on some Habitat for Humanity projects.

Talk of giving back to the community played over in my mind, bringing with it thoughts of running viticulture events. Rachel had prompted the idea, her presence in my life shifting my thinking. Even before her, I’d grown tired of slinging drinks at Rudy’s Tavern, and the contest had reawakened my love of wine. I could have denied it all I liked, but it was in my blood. Just like it was in Rachel’s. My ray of sunshine.

On cue, my ribs tightened.

Ready to get home and end this shitty day, we said our goodbyes and made plans to meet again. Unloading felt good, having a friend to grab a beer with even better. But neither lifted the weight from my chest.

By the time I got outside, the rains had unleashed, curtains of water draping the city in mist. I didn’t flinch or run to my bike. I let the downpour wash over me. Puddles grew; cars splashed sheets of water onto the sidewalk. My heart was as heavy as my sodden clothes.

At home, I parked my bike and grabbed my backpack and helmets, everything a reminder of what I’d lost. Two steps toward my apartment, I stopped. My heart migrated to my throat. I blinked, sure the rain had blurred my vision, but a figure was hunched on my stairs.

A figure that looked a hell of a lot like Rachel.

Eighteen

Rachel

I couldn’t be sure how long I sat there. A light drizzle fell, my harried pulse slowing as the cool liquid drummed on my head, my arms, my legs. My jean jacket soaked through quickly, my sundress and leggings sodden. I didn’t care. Jimmy had ended things. He’d called me on my erratic behavior, had admitted how hard he’d fallen for me, then he’d driven away.

With my heart.

It was all clear, suddenly, how I’d let us derail. Jimmy had apologized for his abrupt behavior, had asked for a chance to explain, but I’d clung to his indiscretion, allowing it to taint my mind. All to make pushing him away easier. I’d sabotaged our relationship from the start, holding back, taking instead of giving, so many stupid fears feeding my actions. But I was unprepared for him to end things, each word cutting deeper than expected. Watching him drive away had been worse, my chest caving the farther he got.

And I needed to get him back.

The rain pounded the pavement, tires spraying water as cars rushed by. I wrapped my arms around my legs, lay my chin on my knees. I wouldn’t move from this spot until Jimmy returned and I apologized for my cowardice. I’d live here, if need be.

An eternity later, a familiar voice, deep and rich, said, “Rachel?”

My head snapped up. Jimmy’s hair was as soaked as mine, his clothing, too. We stayed immobile, as though the sky hadn’t opened up, dousing us with its fury. I dragged a hand across my face, unsure if tears were mixing with the rain.

This time I didn’t hesitate.

“I’m so sorry. I want you. I want to listen to you, understand you and your life, and I want us. I was scared and stupid, too many family issues holding me back.” My words fell as fast and hard as the downpour. “Yes, hearing you dismiss your mother like that and getting angry at me was hard, but I don’t know what you’ve been through. It was wrong of me to judge. And you may be frustrated with me, tired of my games, but I’m done playing. I think about you all the time, wondering what you’re doing. Hoping you’re thinking about me. You made today perfect, and I ruined it. And I’m just—”

“Ray.”

My heart hitched. He’d called me Ray. Not Rachel. It could have meant nothing. It could have meant everything. I bit my lip to keep it from trembling.

Then he said, “Get over here.”

My belly dipped and I jumped, opposing forces that had me shooting into his arms. We clawed at each other, everything soaking wet. Our mouths, wet. Our clothes, wet.

Salty tears dripped over our lips. “I’m sorry,” I said against his mouth.

“Shut up, Sunshine.”

We broke apart, long enough for him to grab his pack and helmets, then we ran upstairs. He slammed his apartment door behind us as we toed off our shoes. We left puddles in his living room, his bedroom, until we were in his bathroom, the showerhead spraying against the glass walls. We walked in clothed, and his hips pinned mine to the tiled wall. His cock was hard as granite in his jeans.

“You’re shaking,” he said, forehead pressed to mine.

Warm water sprayed over his head. I was still cold, my clothes locking in the chill, but the quiver in my limbs was all Jimmy. And we had too many layers between us. “I need you,” I said.

His nostrils flared. Eyes locked, we struggled with his T-shirt, the fabric suctioned to his body. We tossed it over the shower door, and it landed with a wet squiltch. My jacket and dress went next, leaving me in leggings and my bra, and him in jeans. His nipple piercings and silver chain rose with his shallow breaths.