Page 15
Story: Kingpin
I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
After a few frothy cold beers, talking about everything and nothing, Neil curved his hand over my hip and pulled me closer. Grazed his lips against my temple in a kiss that ignited my blood like the fizz of champagne, turning me into a hazy, giddy mess.
I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down to me with a kiss that I never recovered from. I was no stranger to flirting, to grasping hands and the flushed, frantic lust that accompanied attraction.
But this magnetism I felt when I looked in Neil’s stormy gray eyes was something stronger, more electrifying than anything I’d ever experienced with anyone before. Or since.
Holding my hand up in the faint light from the street lamp outside, I examined my barren ring finger.
Two years after the divorce, I started to date again. Determined to find a man who wasn’t Neil. Someone who wanted the same thing I did.
And I found him. More than one, actually.
Men who checked every box on my list—aspiring to be a husband and father, financially stable, with normal homes, normal jobs, and normal cars. Not a single motorcycle in sight.
They were perfect. On paper.
But I felt nothing for any of them.
Not even remotely close to that toe-curling, bone-melting, panty-soaking kiss I’d had with Neil when we first met.
Even though I didn’t wear my wedding ring anymore, I still had it. Tucked away in my sock drawer in Seattle, along with my engagement ring—a fat, princess cut diamond that must have cost a small fortune. I never knew how Neil managed to afford it, since the bastard refused to tell me.
I cleared out everything else I owned that belonged to Neil—the shirts I loved to wear because they smelled like him; the lingerie he gifted me for our anniversary; those panties with the motorcycle printed across the ass that said RIDE ME. I packed up our pictures and my wedding dress, keeping them in a storage unit that I hadn’t touched since the divorce.
It still jolted me sometimes, to see my finger without Neil’s ring. And it took a second or two before I calmed down, reminding myself that I hadn’t lost it, hadn’t watched it slip down the sink drain or slide off in the pool. I wasn’t wearing it on purpose.
For twelve years, that ring felt like a natural part of me. Even though my mother never missed an opportunity to inform me that I was throwing my life away. Even though everyone said we were insane to rush into our marriage after only a few months of knowing each other.
I reached up and traced the empty space where Neil’s ring should have been. After the divorce, I hated the tan line that remained there, thin and pale, like a ghost. I went to a tanningsalon to get rid of it, so I didn’t have to stare at the reminder that my marriage was over.
The soft creak of my door made me startle. I glanced over to see Wylie on my threshold, his golden curls tousled and sticking up on one side. He rubbed his eye with a fist.
“Aunt Hattie? Mama said she’s not feeling good. She said to stay with you while Papa takes her to the hospital.”
Voices emanated from the kitchen in hushed whispers. I was out of bed in an instant, smoothing down the nightgown I’d borrowed from Connie. I made a beeline for the kitchen to see my sister doubled over, clutching Nathan’s arm.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“My water broke,” Connie said in a strained voice. “Baby’s coming. Can you watch Wylie? I know your flight—”
“Don’t worry about the flight,” I cut in. “I’ll cancel it. I’ve got Wylie. Go.”
Connie released a breath of relief with a pained smile.
“Thank you. I can't tell you how good it is to have you here."
A knot formed in my throat as I watched Connie and Nathan make their way to the car. Wylie shuffled up behind me and rested his head against my hip with a yawn.
Even though I wanted to get back to my normal life in Seattle and forget about Neil, Connie needed me here. At least for now. I wasn’t going anywhere.
I scooped up Wylie, smoothing his ruffled hair.
“Time to sleep, champ. You’re going to be a big brother before you know it.”
After putting Wylie back to bed, I couldn’t sleep a wink. Nathan kept me updated with texts periodically, until Connie went into labor around 5:30am. Then my phone was silent.
An hour later, I had Wylie dressed, fed, and we were on our way to the hospital. Connie and Nathan were still in the delivery room, so Wylie and I wandered the halls to keepourselves occupied. Apart from a crossword puzzle book in my purse, I hadn’t brought any toys for him, and the celebrity gossip magazines in the waiting room didn’t interest him either.
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