Page 97 of Crocodile Tears

He looked up into a pair of golden eyes and caught a glimpse of warm brown skin and tight curls before he was enveloped in a damp hug. “Alex!”

“Solange?” He wrapped his arms around her and held on tight, burying his face in her magnificent hair. “Solange! You have no idea how good it is to see you tonight.”

“You too.” She pushed him back and looked him up and down. “You look like shit.”

“Having a bad day.” He made a face at her. “Hey, come and join me. I want to know what you’re up to these days, what you’re doing here, and everything there is to know.”

Taking her by the hand, he led her back to his table and sat there, gazing at her. She was as beautiful as ever, wearing a pair of tight red jeans and the white tee that was now decorated with a beer stain over one of her small pert breasts.

“Remind me – why did we split up?” he asked. Why hadn’t he clung on to something this beautiful when he’d had the chance?

“You told me to fuck off.”

“Did I? I’m such an arse.” He grinned at her, and she laughed.

“I knew you were more pissed off with Neil than me, though. Nobody likes being saved by someone they hate.”

“Ah, yes – Neil – the ever-present troll of doom.” Alex stuck out his tongue and pulled the sides of his lips open wide, creating a vision of trollness ugly enough to sum up his feelings about Neil.

“He’s still around, then?”

“Yeah, but I pretty much ignore him these days. We don’t sleep together anymore, and he knows I want him to fuck off and die.”

“Sounds just like old times.” She gave a wry grin.

“Do you have any croc?” he asked suddenly, remembering the afternoons spent in her room, inhaling the drug off her beautiful brown belly. “I haven’t taken any since I started working with my father, but I’m in the mood to do some tonight.”

“You’ve been clean for that long?” She raised an eyebrow. “I never thought that you, of all people, would be able to give it up.”

“It was easy. See, I have hidden depths.”

“Then why start up again now, if you’ve kicked it?”

Alex sighed. “I tried, Solange. I’ve given it a year, and I did my best, I really did, but Dad refuses to believe in me. I’m tired of being a good boy all the time to win back his love. It’s never going to happen.”

“Win back his love?” She put her hand over his and stroked, gently. “Are you sure you ever lost it?”

“Yeah, I lost it. He’s never forgiven me for what happened to Mum and Charles, and he’s never going to. He tolerates having me around, but he doesn’t love me. I’m his son, and that makes me his duty, but he doesn’t even like me. I can see it in his eyes.”

“Maybe he needs more time.”

“How much more? The accident was five years ago. Since then, I’ve taken the degree he wanted, got a first, and worked at his company doing whatever shitty jobs he asked. Nothing will ever be enough. So yeah, I want to start taking croc again. Got any?”

She gave a sad little sigh. “Yes, I have – back at my place.”

“Is that nearby?”

“Yup.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” He jumped up, grabbed her hand, and led her towards the door.

Croc and sex, sex and croc… He’d forgotten how good that particular combination was. He kissed every inch of Solange’s beautiful body as the tears flowed gently down his face. Afterwards, he lay in her arms, stroking her hair.

“You’re an angel. You have no idea how much I needed this tonight. How much I needed you.” He kissed the tip of one perfect golden-brown nipple. “Thank you,” he whispered solemnly to it.

Solange laughed and squeezed him in her arms.

“So, tell me about yourself,” he said. “What, where, why – the whole thing. I want to know what’s been going on for you, Solange.”

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