Page 40 of Anger Bang
God, she was going to miss this when she got home.
Sure, she had her girls Astrid and Nola, a great career, and an apartment with an amazing view, but sometimes coming home to the dark, silent apartment wasn’t quite all that she wanted it to be. She wanted to be able to cuddle naked in the middle of the afternoon, talk about stupid things like the best Godzilla movie, and have the best sex of her life that left her drained and completely hyped up at the same time. Was that really too much to ask?
She’d have to chat it over with Dr. Kowecki when she got back to Harbor City, the idea of which suddenly had her feeling antsy for reasons that had nothing to do with going to see her therapist. She sat up, curling her legs up to her chest and resting her chin on her knees, not sure what response was best for the anticipatory dread she was starting to feel about this wedding coming to an end in a few days. Fawn? Fight? Flight? Freeze? All of the above?
She was in her early thirties. Wasn’t life supposed to be easier by now? First, there was the discovery that she’d still get zits as an adult—and now she had to figure out the right thing to do? It wasn’t fair. She sighed.
Kade sat up, cocked his head to the side, and shot her a questioning look.
“Nola is going to be insufferable when I tell her that going to see Dr. Kowecki was just what I needed,” she said, coming up with the first truth that popped into her head that had nothing to do with having more feelings (ew, gross) than she knew what to do with.
“You guys are close?” Kade asked as he moved on the bed so he sat behind her.
She nodded. “Since college.”
He swept her hair back and began massaging her shoulders, his strong fingers working out the kinks and releasing the tension building up between her shoulder blades. “It’s good to have people in your life who are constants.”
There was something in how he said it, a lingering wish that he wouldn’t let float all the way to the surface, that made her chest ache.
“Do you have that?” she asked, even though she knew the answer already.
He continued to work her shoulders with the same steady pressure and control. “I have Dex and a couple of good friends back home.”
There it was again, that echo of something he missed so much he couldn’t even say it out loud. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what—or, more correctly,who—he was talking about. He slid his palms down the outside of her arms and then wrapped his arms around her waist and bracketed her legs with his, cocooning her in his strength.
“And before you ask what about my parents,” he said, his voice gruff, “my dad died years ago, and Mom left when I was in high school.”
They’d promised not to talk about their moms, but if he was going to shove that rule into the firepit, she wouldn’t argue—as long as they were focused onhismom.
“She seems to be trying—at least from what I can tell from seeing her here.”
“She’s an alcoholic. It’s kind of her thing. She’ll tell you all about the things she’s going to try. I’ll try not to drink during the week. I’ll try to stop at one glass. I’ll try not to let it affect you. That last one really isn’t true, and it sure fucks up everyone else, too.”
And that’s where that ribbon of hurt that threaded through his words came from.
The realization made her heart ache for the boy that he’d been and the man he’d become. She pivoted, turning enough that she could look at him. His expression was smoothed into one of absolute neutrality, as if none of this had anything to do with him.
She laid her head in the pocket of his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him, trying to give back some of that comfort he’d given her. “Is that why you won’t talk to her?”
“That part of my life is over.” He shrugged, but it was a little too casual to be sincere. “The door is shut. She’s the one who slammed it closed. I’m not interested in reconnecting. Second chances are for people who still think there’s good in the world. I’ve got fifteen true-crime bestsellers under my belt that prove that’s not the case.”
They lay there in companionable silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Then, he shifted so he was behind her again and her ass was nestled up against his cock. He reached around, cupping her breast, rolling her nipples, and tugging them taut.
“So,” he said, as if he wasn’t making her writhe against him already. “Where do you live?”
“Changing the subject by digging for a little personal information?” she asked, going for nonchalant but coming out breathy and needy instead.
They’d made an agreement. No life stories. No real connection. No taking it beyond the wedding.
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” He brushed a kiss across her shoulder. “It’s important for our experiment.”
“Oh yeah?” she asked. “How?”
“Somehow,” he said as he pinched her nipples with just the right amount of pressure that her legs seemed to spread on their own.
Her vibrators didn’t stand a chance after this man.
“I live in a fifth-floor apartment.” The words came tumbling out as she let her head fall back against him, giving in to the pleasure. “No kids. No cats. No elevator in my building.”
