Page 22 of Under the Influence

My mind wanders all day between the past when life made sense and how uncertain the future now feels.

By the time I arrive in Dunphey, I’m unsure about my feelings for Edith. I feel like a drowning man reaching for anything to save himself.Am I falling for Edith or dragging her down into my mess?

Her SUV is already parked in the mostly empty restaurant lot. I pull up beside her. Edith looks up from her phone and glances at me. A part of her is clearly wondering what we’re doing together. I see the uncertainty in her gaze as she exits the SUV and stands before me.

Edith’s dressed down from our dinner out. She’s wearing a black T-shirt with an eagle image and “Mountain State” printed across the front. Her faded blue jeans hang low on her hips and flare at the bottom. I don’t know how she manages to look sexier than she did in that skirt and top from last night.

“You gave me a hickey,” she says when I don’t speak.

My fingers graze her soft throat, and my heart hurts at how much I want to keep this woman. We barely know each other, yet I’m already hooked.

“You gave me one, too,” I say and tilt my head so she can see mine. “I told my family I hooked up with a stripper.”

“Because you think I’m cheap?” she sneers.

“Is that a real question?”

Edith’s bitchy expression fizzles out. “No, but I feel weird having to hide us dating. We aren’t doing anything wrong.”

My fingers dance across her throat before cradling her jaw and tipping her chin upward. I’ve been dying for a kiss since last night when my lips left hers.

Edith’s body melts against mine, and her arms wrap around the back of me possessively. We fit just right, and all my earlier concerns seem like lies told to keep me from claiming what I need.

EDITH, AKA FEELING LIKE A DIRTY LITTLE SECRET

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Restless at the homestead, I head to Dunphey early and sit in my SUV to read. I don’t know why my life feels so small suddenly. I can’t entertain myself. I’m dying to talk to people about Duke. There’s only so much I can say to Tuesday, yet I want to share more.

Earlier today, I made sandwiches for my pa and brothers. They teased me about my hickey, but I also noticed their concern over my mystery guy.

“Does he seem too good to be true?” Otto asked me as I dumped extra roast beef on his sandwich like he preferred. “Because that means he’s likely a bigamist. Maybe a serial killer.”

“Or he might be a real winner,” Pa-Donovan said and stroked the back of my head. “If this guy sticks for a week or so, maybe you can bring him around. That way, we can bask in his winning qualities.”

“I’d like to bask in that,” Ike added as the three of them took their sandwiches and stared at me.

I could have told them about Duke right then. They were in mellow moods. I couldn’t imagine they’d be all that upset. Duke is a better catch than the other guys I’ve dated.

Confessing would have been a relief. I’ve never kept secrets from them before. We’ve always been an honest family, discussing problems and sharing our hopes.

Duke is my hope now, yet I’ve chosen to keep my feelings for him a secret from most of the important people in my life.

While waiting for Duke in my SUV, I consider texting my ma. We’ve always been extremely tight. When she asked about my hickey, I lied right to her face. That part is eating at me.

Arriving on his motorcycle, Duke feels like a prize I don’t get to keep. I’m already imagining how things will end. I don’t even want to get out of my SUV.

Once I force myself to exit, I start finding reasons to leave. I want to go home and fess up to my family. If they shower disapproval down on me, I’ll weather their scorn.What’s the point of suffering for something that won’t last?

All my negative thoughts and self-destructive planning drop away as soon as Duke’s lips meet mine. I glue my body to him, never wanting to leave his side.

Holding Duke tight, I try to feel more like myself. I’m usually confident. I know who I am and where I belong.

Duke holds my hand as we enter the restaurant. The hostess eye-fucks him immediately, turning my mopey mood into a snarly territorial one. When she laughs at his answer to the riveting “booth vs table” question, I’m tempted to shove her on the ground and scream threats. Fortunately, our actual waitress isn’t a skank in need of face removal which allows my temper to ease up.

Duke sits on my side like he did at the steakhouse. I like how he wants to be close.

“I’m a little disappointed I didn’t get to watch you kick that woman’s ass,” Duke says, smirking as he looks over the menu.

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