Chapter 33

33

Lena

This was more than fucking, Lena.

This is the first time in my life I'm thinking clearly.

I stand under the shower and let the hot water pour over me. When the Rolls had come to a stop outside JJ's house, he tried to loan me his jacket. I refused. The last thing I want is to be caught with any item of his clothing on me. Instead, I pulled out the safety pins I keep in my bag—something my mother insisted I never be without—fixed myself up, then jumped out and ran up to my room. I couldn't bear to talk to him… Not after what we'd done. I fucked him. I fucked my boyfriend's father and OMG, it was so hot. So much hotter than any sex I've ever had before.

At least he remembers my name. That's something, I suppose. As for the rest of what he said? Bet he's doing it to screw with my head. No matter if it did feel like it was a lot more than fucking for me, too. That orgasm I experienced? I've never felt anything so intense before. It was the kind of bone-rattling, mind-numbing, emotion-wrenching climax that would have swept me off my feet, if I'd been standing, and catapulted me to somewhere high in the stars. It shattered me, blew me to smithereens. Until I couldn't remember my name... or who I was... or who he was... or where we were. I came to my senses to find I was slumped against him. He cradled me in his arms, his forehead pressed to mine, and when he asked me if I was okay, his voice sounded worried. He sounded concerned about me. And that was my undoing.

I much prefer it when he's glaring at me, or looking at me with cool disdain. When he's being mean to me, and I'm fighting him back, I'm able to resist him. I'm able to focus on something other than how attractive he is. How dominant he is. How overpoweringly handsome, how charismatic, how there's something about him I can't resist. How it's not just his physical attributes that attract me to him—I feel safe with him. I hunch my shoulders.

There… that's it. The thing I wasn't able to articulate, even to myself, earlier. My father left when I was only three and we grew up without a father figure. My family overcompensated by sticking tightly together, but we never really got over the loss of him at such an early stage in our lives. I often felt my older siblings tried to overcompensate for it by trying their best not to let me and Josh feel his gap in our lives.

Technically, I shouldn't have missed my father at all. After all, I didn't even know him that well. And yet I did miss him—every day. And meeting JJ only brought home just how much I missed having an authoritative male figure in my life. Someone I could look up to. Someone I knew would have my back, no matter what. Someone who would watch out for me, protect me. The way JJ did when he thought Isaac was going to hit me. He intervened that day at the party. He stepped between us to shield me. It was then that things shifted into place inside of me, and my attraction to JJ bloomed to life. An attraction I've been fighting with since… A connection I gave in to earlier when I fucked him. A shrink would have a field day with the situation I'm now in.

I switch off the shower, dry myself, then step into the bedroom and pull on a pair of yoga pants and top. I've just switched off my hair dryer when the door to the bedroom opens, and Isaac steps in. I avoid his gaze and continue to style my hair.

He places his camera and equipment on the table by the door, then shrugs off his coat and drops it to the floor before he walks over to stand behind me. He puts his arm around my waist and draws me close. "Mmm, you smell good." He kisses the top of my head, then moves over to the bed and flings himself down on it. "I'm exhausted." He stretches his arms over his head. His T-shirt rises to reveal the sliver of skin over his flat stomach.

Isaac does work out, as well, and he has a six-pack to prove it. He's as tall as JJ, but leaner. And his shoulders are not as thick as his father's. But he's as good-looking as JJ, albeit in a different way. So why am I not attracted to him the way I am to JJ? Why can't I feel half the attraction toward him that I feel toward JJ?

He must sense my gaze, for he lowers his arms and smirks. "Come 'ere," he drawls in a low, hard voice. And in that moment, I see the kind of man he's going to mature into. The kind of self-assured, commanding, controlling man that JJ is today. Only, he's not there yet. I want someone to take care of me, not be the person who has to take care of another. JJ can do that. He can take care of me. He knows what I want. He satisfies me the way Isaac never has. He's not half the man JJ is yet, but he will be, someday soon. And he'll find the kind of woman who'll feel toward him the way I do toward JJ. But I'm not that woman, and I never will be. I may have been drawn to Isaac, but it's nothing compared to the sheer primal pull JJ wields over me.

I place my brush on the dressing table with a soft thump, then walk toward him. When he holds out his hand, I take it and allow him to pull me onto the bed next to him. He folds me in his arms and tucks my head under his chin. For a few seconds, we stay that way. He sighs deeply. "This is nice," he says in a drowsy voice.

"Too nice, maybe."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he murmurs.

I open my mouth, then close it. I'm not sure I'm ready to say this, but I must. No putting it off further. I can't fuck his father, then lay in bed with Isaac and pretend everything is fine. Not when it hasn't been for a long time.

"Isaac?"

"Hmm." He sounds like he's half asleep.

"Isaac." I pull back, and he groans then turns over onto his back.

"I'm exhausted, Lena, can't this wait?"

"Why are we still together, Isaac?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why are we together? It's not like we're attracted to each other anymore."

He throws his arm over his eyes. "I'm trying to sleep."

"And I'm trying to have a conversation."

He makes a sound of frustration. "What is this, an inquisition into our sex life? We just had sex, Lena."

"Yesterday. We had sex yesterday, and it was over before I even came."

He lowers his arm and glances at me. "What do you mean? You came, Lena."

I narrow my gaze. He blinks.

"I mean, you did come, didn't you?"

"I've never come when we've had sex," I inform him.

"You haven't?" He scowls. "That can't be right." He glances past me and I sense him searching through his memories. "No, definitely not. That first time?—"

"You were comforting me, when Ben" —I glance away— "when Ben was in the accident."

"We came back from his funeral, and we were both so upset. I found you sobbing in your bed and held you."

"And one thing led to another, and we had sex. We found comfort in each other."

"Nothing wrong with that," he points out.

"We should have never gotten together, Isaac."

"Hold on." His scowl deepens. "I wasn't in love with Ben."

"But he had a crush on you. I knew it—" I explain.

"And it's why you never responded to my overtures. But after he died?—"

I wince.

"After his accident" —he softens his voice— "you were lonely. And I felt terrible for you."

"You felt sorry for me. What we had was a pity fuck... Which became a habitual fuck."

This time he winces. "I wouldn't call it that."

"It's time someone put a name to what we have."

"And I suppose you're going to do that?" He lowers his chin to his chest, a long-suffering look on his face.

"I have to, Isaac. It's high time. Every time I've tried to talk to you in the past, you've changed the topic or been too bored to discuss it, but this time I'm going to say my piece."

He heaves a long-suffering sigh, but doesn't stop me.

"We drifted into this relationship. Initially, I let it happen because I was alone, and while I wasn't completely comfortable with it, I also knew you hadn't had the same feelings for Ben that he'd had for you. But I have to admit, I felt guilty because I knew that if he'd been alive, he'd have been pissed at us."

"And he'd have come around to it, too."

"Ben?" I laugh. "You know he'd have held a grudge for a long time. He'd have never forgiven us if we'd gotten together, Isaac."

"I'd have convinced him. We'd have convinced him, Lena."

"Maybe I wouldn't have wanted to convince him."

"What are you talking about?" He drags his fingers through his hair. Some of the strands flop onto his forehead, and he seems even younger than he normally appears. Or maybe, it's just me. Maybe I'm already so spoiled by JJ's mature countenance that everyone else looks immature in comparison.

"You know what I'm trying to say, Isaac."

"No, I do not."

It's my turn to flop onto my back. "If Ben had been alive, we'd have never gotten together. I wouldn't have felt so responsible for you, and we'd never have ended up living under your father's roof."

"But he isn't alive. And we did get together, and now we're here."

"Living under your father's roof," I point out.

"Why do you keep bringing that up? You were the one who wanted us to go to him for help."

"Only because I didn't want to end up homeless."

"That would never have happened."

"No, it wouldn't, because I'd have inevitably found a way to pay our rent."

"I knew it." He slaps his hand on the mattress. "You've come back to the same point in a roundabout way. You want to guilt trip me, yet again, for not taking my responsibilities seriously. For not paying my half of the rent. For not pulling my weight when it came to the bills."

"That's right." I jackknife up and spring out of bed. "And you don't have to make it sound like it was wrong of me to expect that."

"I'm not saying that. It's just that I needed time to get my shit together," he protests.

"And, in the meanwhile, you let me shoulder our problems."

"As you constantly remind me. You're beginning to sound like a broken record," he snaps.

"And you're sounding like the spoiled brat that you are."

He pales. "That's not fair, Lena, and you know it."

I deflate a little. "You're right, it's not. I hate it when we fight like this."

"So, let's not fight."

"It's unavoidable when whatever little feelings we had for each other are no longer existent."

He stares at me. "What're you trying to tell me?"

"I want to break up with you."

"Excuse me?" His gaze widens. "Why... why would you say such a thing?"

"Because—" I squeeze my eyes shut. "I slept with your father."