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“Why did you want that?” I nod to the window I fucked her against. “Why did you want me to make you take it?”
Her forehead scrunches. “What do you mean?”
“Is it because it’s easier to accept being with me if you can pretend you don’t want it? Pretend that I’m forcing you?” I can’t hide the hurt in my tone; it’s too raw.
She sighs. “Oh, Loch—”
“Because I feel like your dirty little secret, Stella. And you . . .” I look down at my hands and swallow down a knot of barbed wire. “You feel like my entire world.” I grind my knuckles into my palm and force myself to meet her eyes.
“I don’t know why I wanted that, but I know that’s certainly not why.” She seems genuine, but still, my mind rebels.
“I’m so . . .” I tap my temples, trying to find the words. “I’m so fucked in the head. We all are, my brothers and me. How could we not be?” I huff a defeated laugh. “This life, it’s taught me that nothing is real except hurt, pain, and death. That’s why I never take anything seriously, because it’s not real, and this”—I gesture between us—“it feels too good to be real. When it hurts, when I cause you pain, when I take, it’s real because that’s what I do. I hurt people and I take things that aren’t mine. But when you say you want me, when you just give yourself to me, it doesn’t feel real. But fuck, Stella, I want it to be.”
There’s a short silence, and I see just about every emotion flicker through her eyes. I try not to let my mind linger on any specific one. I’m so used to her rejection that I know not to trust what I think I see on her face. But nothing can prepare me for what she says next.
“Everything about you is real, Loch. You’re so vibrant, so full of life, so completely and unapologetically true, and that’s how being with you feels. I didn’t plan on this, and that scares me. But I’ve realized what scares me more is going through life only ever thinking about what’s next, never appreciating the present. And with you . . .” She rubs the corner of her eye with her knuckle. “I live and feel every second. Nothing is more real than time spent with you.”
I bury my head in my hands. Why does it hurt so much to hear those words when they’re all I’ve ever wanted?
I lift my chin and rest it on my steepled hands. “I want that to be true.”
Her shoulders curl in and her eyes are full of care. I know she understands that it’s not because I don’t believe her. “How can I make this feel real to you?”
“Tell me I’m more than just your dirty little secret.”
She comes over to me and I sit back. Settling in my lap, she cradles my face in her hands. “You’ve never been that, but I won’t just say it. I’ll prove it.”
The next day, after staying in bed for half the morning, I slip out to go to the gym, hoping it will stop last night’s conversation from playing over and over again in my head. I’m just finishing up my workout with some success when Stella texts me.
Stella:
Meet me at the beach bar.
With ferries starting up again today, I’m sure she’s concocted ten different ways to use it to our advantage. It’s easy to forget there’s a murderer to catch when what’s happening between us consumes all my thoughts. Though, I’m caring less and less about it every day.
Turns out it’s much more fun being the killer than hunting one.
I take a quick shower at the gym before heading her way. From the pool deck, I look down on the beach club. Scanning all the tables, I don’t see Stella.
I don’t see you. Where are you sitting?
Stella:
I’m by the stage. I can see you.
I think you fucked me blind because I’m not seeing you.
Stella:
That’s not a thing.
I smile, picturing her rolling her eyes as she typed that.
Stella:
Just go stand by the middle tables and you’ll see me.
Heading down to the beach, I weave through the tables of people until I reach the center facing the empty stage. I take my phone out to call her when music starts playing over the speakers.
