Page 29 of From This Moment (After We Fall 4)
Don’t even think it.
I thought it.
I wanted to touch her. Kiss her. Know what it was like to be inside her. Feel her hands on my body. Hear her soft moans and loud cries and make her come over and over again.
You’re an asshole.
God. I was an asshole. In no universe were these feelings about my brother’s wife okay. They’d never been okay. But what could I do? Tell her to put her cover-up back on because the sight of her slender curves in a bathing suit was too tempting? Tell her to stop giggling at my stupid jokes and stories because the sound of her laughter was too sweet? Tell her to stop looking at me that way when I took off my shirt because I wasn’t my brother no matter how much I looked like him? I wasn’t an idiot. I knew it wasn’t me she was seeing.
No matter how much I wished it was.
Look, you can’t turn back time. You made your choice, and they made theirs. And you know what? If you had to do it all over again, you’d make the same decision. You’d step aside for him, you always did.
I frowned into the fire.
“Hey, you.” Hannah nudged me with her bare foot. She and I were sitting next to each other in chairs by the dwindling bonfire while Abby played nearby in the sand. My parents had just gone up to the house. “Everything okay?”
I sat up straighter, took a drink of my scotch. I’d poured some over ice when it became clear my stupid feelings for her had not gone away, no matter how much time and distance I’d put between us. “Yeah. Fine.”
“Fine, huh? I give that answer a lot too.”
I braved a glance at her, and her expression was shrewd. Then she nudged me again with her foot. “I’m on to you, pal.”
For fuck’s sake, did she have to touch me? She was making things worse. “Sometimes I’m just quiet.”
“I remember that about you.” She tipped up her wine glass, and I couldn’t take my eyes off the hollow at the base of her throat. “But actually, I think you’ve been very talkative today.”
“Have I?”
“Yes. And you’re an amazing listener. I appreciate it.”
N
ot if you knew what I was thinking. “Any time.”
A minute or two went by. The sun was sinking fast behind the trees, deepening the shadows on the beach. Abby began to sing softly, backed by the rhythmic shush of waves on the shore. “Can I tell you something?” Hannah asked.
“Of course.”
“Lots of people have told me, ‘You’re not alone.’ But I haven’t felt that way until you said those words to me today.”
I looked at her and vowed I would never violate the trust she placed in me. “I meant them.”
She smiled at me as she stood up. “I better get Abby home and in the tub. But Wes, you were right about today. Thank you. I had such a good time.”
“I’m glad.”
Then she did something that shocked me—she reached out and slowly slid her fingers through my hair.
I couldn’t speak. I wasn’t even sure I could breathe.
She smiled. “You have sand in your hair.” A moment later, she was walking away from me. “Come on, Abs. Let’s get the toys put away. Time to go home.”
I was still sitting there in disbelief when I heard my mother’s voice. I hadn’t even seen her come down the steps and I was looking right at them.
“Hannah, dear,” she called, making her way toward them, “I was thinking earlier, why doesn’t Abby just stay the night here? I’ve got a room all set up for her, and she hardly ever uses it.”
Hannah hesitated. “I have the sitter coming in the morning.” Then she glanced at me. “But I guess I could give her the day off. Sure. She can stay.”
