“You should give him a call,” Vale says as if reading my mind. “He’d love to hear from you.”
Weirdly, an odd sense of hope and excitement courses through me. In the matter of just a few weeks, and all due to Vale coming to the Cold Fury, I’ve been reconnected to my old life, which, let’s face it, was a fantastic fucking life. I had good friends, even better times, and despite the way our paths veered apart, the possibility of having them come back together makes me feel uniquely joyous.
“You know, I think I will,” I say as the waitress returns with my Coke.
Vale gives a tinkling laugh, the very one I remember from when she was in a mischievous mood. She leans forward again and says, “So, I’ll tell you more about the whole Nina scandal. There was a rumor her rich, old husband had some Mafia ties. Not sure how it got started up, but for the longest time after Oliver carried her out of the house, we were all convinced he was going to swim with the fishes or something. You should have seen Oliver…”
I sit there and listen to Vale. Her voice is light, carefree, and melodic. I let her fill me in on the details of my friends I had lost, and I let myself get swept away in the memories.
Chapter 12
Vale
While I did indeed get eight pure hours of sleep last night, I’m still exhausted. It clearly wasn’t enough to catch up on all of the late nights and early mornings I’ve been suffering through the past few weeks. Still, I went to sleep with a smile on my face last night after Hawke and I had dinner together. It was nice.
Casual.
Fun.
When he first sat down at my table, there was a fleeting moment of awkwardness, and then it was gone as soon as he apologized for what happened at the party. In hindsight, I’m not sure I wanted him to be regretful over what happened in the bathroom, but it was a bit of a balm to know that he seemed truly sorry for making waves with Todd and me. It showed me that despite the anger and secrets and blame, Hawke still has feelings for me.
As I clearly still have feelings for him.
That became evident to me when Todd proposed. While my initial reaction was a general rebellion against the notion of a lifetime with Todd, it was quickly followed with a sad yearning for what I had lost with the man I thought I was supposed to be with the rest of my life.
It was even more evident, and not in a good way, when I woke up this morning in my Chicago hotel room all squirmy with frustration because of a dirty dream I had about Hawke. Call it guilt over showing him my cover-up tattoo job, or the way in which I can all too clearly remember how much I wanted him to touch me in that bathroom, but I dreamt of the night I got his name etched into my inner thigh to be held for all eternity.
We practically tumbled into our apartment. We were drunk, a little stoned, and had just come home from the tattoo shop. Our hands were all over each other, tearing at clothes, deep wet kisses punctuated with groans.
We stumbled into the bedroom, completely naked by the time we fell to the mattress. Well, almost completely naked. I had a sterile pad held in place over Hawke’s name with medical tape. He had a matching pad on his right hip, where he had tattooed VALE in a flowing script of dark green ink.
Then he was in me, careful of our bandages, and kissing me hard the entire time.
Hawke and I had sex—and I mean a lot—those first few months after I turned eighteen. But that night was different, almost desperate. What made it so hot, and I’m sure the reason for it infiltrating my dreams, is the way he was so possessive of me. Carefully cradling that leg in the crook of his elbow while he pummeled into me with smooth strokes, he lifted his face and with glittering eyes said, “Need to see it.”
“What,” I had moaned as he hit me especially deep.
“My name. On you.”
He reared up, still seated to the hilt, and carefully peeled the bandage off. Then with the same care, if not more, he held my leg up and out while he fucked me, looking at his name on my tender skin the entire time.
It was the most erotic thing I had ever experienced in my young life, and I was so sure, in that moment, that we were meant for each other forever.
I brooded about that dream the entire flight from Chicago back to Raleigh. When we landed, I called Dad to let him know I was back, but he didn’t answer the phone. He’s been tiring out quickly since the virus injection so I assumed he was napping.