Page 72 of All I Need

I CAN’T SLEEP. MY BODY is on fire, remembering the way Walker’s lips felt pressed against mine, his strong hand wrapped around my leg, his fingers threaded through my own. It’s not lost on me that he’s the exact opposite of every single man I’ve dated, or been engaged to, before him. I don’t know what that says about me, that I didn’t even know the type of man I was truly attracted to until I met Walker. Maybe it wasn’t a type that I had wrong.

It was the guy.

He’s everything I never knew I wanted or needed in a man. Before Walker, I never felt like I needed a man to feel complete. When I was with Michael, it was more about filling a void in my life that was left by parents who never gave a shit. With Gary, it was about being pursued in a way that made me feel needed. A part of me knew why he wanted to marry me but I lied to myself until I believed he wanted me more than his inheritance.

I flip over, tucking my arm under my pillow and squeeze my eyes shut, willing sleep to come but the ache that’s forming between my legs is a reminder the sandman is nowhere close by.

It’s well after midnight and it’s like my adrenaline got another boost. Even my legs feel restless.

I flip back over and kick off the covers, lying in the center of my bed with my arms and legs spread wide. My eyes drift to the top drawer of my dresser. All those toys Walker got a real good look at when he was helping me pack up are taunting me. I glance at my door. It’s not that I’m afraid Miss Polly would come in and catch me, or that I’d be too loud and she would hear. There’s something else stopping me from doing a little diddle-diddle-doo to help me sleep but I don’t know what it is.

Sighing, I stand up out of bed and glare at the mattress, like it’s at fault for not sending me into a peaceful slumber. Maybe I just need some fresh air, clear my head a little bit.

Grabbing my phone off the night stand in case I decide I want to play a mindless game or listen to music, I throw on a long tan cardigan that reaches my knees, slide my feet into a pair of slippers, and make my way outside to the back patio.

Settling in on the porch swing, I tuck my legs against my chest and gaze up at the stars and sliver of moon that’s shining down. I take a deep breath, letting the cool night air fill my lungs.

As beautiful as it is out here, it’s not the same as at the Sanders’s farm. The wide open space made me feel more free than ever before. Even with the ever present hint of manure, I could see myself settling down somewhere like that.

I spend about an hour outside before I realize that it’s not helping either and decide to go back inside. Before I climb the stairs to my room, I stop in the kitchen for a glass of water. As I ascend the stairs, my phone chimes, stopping me in my tracks.

My heart rate picks up and I don’t have to look at the screen to know it’s Walker.

I quickly shut myself inside my bedroom and quietly click the lock, turning my phone to silent.

Walker: I can’t stop thinking of you.

Six words. Completely honest and vulnerable.

Me: Same. I haven’t been able to sleep.

I reply, deciding it’s time for the truth.

Walker: What are you thinking about?

Me: Your lips when you kissed me. The feel of your hand on my thigh.

Walker: Interesting. That’s what I’m thinking about too.

Me: Are we crazy?

Walker: No.

Me: You sure about that?

Walker: You’re worried that it’s too soon.

It’s not a question and he’s right. I am. I was going to marry another man just a few months ago. I was moments away from devoting my entire life to him and yet…when I think of it I don’t even feel a shred of sadness for what never happened.

Walker: It’s not too soon.

Me: How are you so sure?

Walker: What did I tell you in the 90’s porn bedroom?

Me: Rearview mirror?

Walker: Exactly. I saw the look on your face when we were at Gary’s house. You convinced yourself he was right for you and the minute you saw him, you knew it wasn’t true. Months from now won’t change the fact that a part of you was happy you walked in on him the day of your wedding.