Page 52 of Something Good
“He’s not alone,” I growled.
“Come on. Let’s dance. I know how much you love to dance.” Jimmy tossed an apologetic look over his shoulder but didn’t resist as Steven pulled him away. Jimmy hated dancing or really doing anything that might draw attention to himself, but I watched as they took the dancefloor. Steven pressed up against him, one leg shoved between Jimmy’s thighs as their hips swayed back and forth to the beat. When Steven grabbed his ass and started kissing up and down his neck, I turned away, not wanting to watch anymore.
I’d spent my whole life trying to protect him and keep him safe from harm. But Jimmy was twenty-five, and he’d made it clear on his birthday last year—the same night he’d also made me promise to stop picking fights—that I had to stop interfering in his relationships and let him make his own choices, even if it meant allowing him to make mistakes.
Shortly after that, he’d started dating Steven, and the last six months had truly been a test of my self-control.
Realizing I still had Jimmy’s phone in my pocket, I groaned but began pushing through the crowd to get to him. I ignored the bump of sweaty bodies around me until I stood next to the couple. I tapped Jimmy on his shoulder, waving the phone in front of his face when he turned to look at me. I raised my voice to be heard, saying, “I’m out.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Do you really need me to stay and watch you guys grope each other all night?” Under the flashing lights of the club, I could just make out the flush that crept up his cheeks as he shook his head. “Text me when you get home safe,” I said, pointedly glaring at the man currently wrapped around my brother. “And if you need me to come back and get you, foranyreason, call me.”
At Jimmy’s nod, I handed over the phone and made my way toward the exit.
I woke with a start,the dream already fading as I fought my way to consciousness. I yanked my phone off the charger, squinting at the time. 2:08. Groaning, I laid the phone back down and stared at the ceiling. I couldn’t remember the specifics of the dream, but flashes flickered through my mind. Blue eyes. Dark hair. A wide smile on a face kissed by the sun after hours of lifeguarding and swimming in the creek.
Golden boy.
My something good.
Sighing, I disentangled my legs from the sheets and made my way into the bathroom to take a piss and grab a drink of water. I stared at myself in the mirror while washing my hands, noting all the changes in my appearance since I’d last seen him. Hairthat had darkened to a dirtier shade of blond, still curly, though because I wore it longer, the curls had relaxed into waves. Most days, I tied it back out of my way, but now it fell loose around my face, just skimming my shoulders. Where I once had a slit razored into my brow, I now wore a small hoop. I had several in my ears to match.
I shook my head in spite of myself. Once upon a time, I’d dreamed of Will almost every night, sometimes—more often than I’d liked to admit—waking to a tear-stained pillow, aching with longing for the boy who’d been my everything. That had been almost ten years ago. These days, dreams of him were few and far between and usually consisted of vague impressions rather than concrete images.
I dried my hands, dragging on a pair of joggers as I stepped through my bedroom and into my studio.
My loft in Omaha was twenty-two hundred square feet of space, one of four units in a hundred-year-old warehouse that had been converted into housing about seven years ago. Exposed brick and floor-to-ceiling windows on refinished wood floors had sold me on the space. I loved the mixed use of materials, and the flood of natural light made it perfect for my studio.
Now, I flipped on the overhead light and stepped over to the desk, pulling out my sketch pad and a pencil. If I wasn’t going to sleep, I might as well work. The rhythmic sound of pencil across paper was soothing as the vague remnants of my dream left me feeling ragged and raw. Odd to feel that way when I couldn’t even pin down the details of the dream itself.
I shouldn’t have been surprised that it was Will I’d dreamed of tonight after Jimmy had prodded me about being alone. And while I insisted I didn’t need anyone, that I didn’twantanyone, here in my studio, with just me and my sketch pad in the dead of night, I could admit that I did misshim.
I never stopped loving Will Hartley. Not in the days and weeks, months and years since I broke his heart and my own in the process. The pain of it had faded over time, but it was still there, like an old injury that ached with the coming of rain. A reminder that though things in my life were good, so much better than they’d been at eighteen, some things couldn’t heal completely. And maybe they weren’t meant to.
28
WILL
It was nearlynine o’clock when I pulled into the driveway of my new home in the suburbs of Omaha. I’d intended to arrive earlier this afternoon, but I’d gotten a late start out of Chicago and hit heavy traffic due to construction just outside Davenport. I stepped out of my truck, reaching my arms up to stretch before whistling to Goldie to join me. My four-year-old golden retriever bounded out of the truck, immediately pressing her nose to the ground to sniff around the perimeter of the front yard.
I stared up at my new house. A gray two-bedroom ranch built just a few years ago, it sat nestled in a quiet neighborhood just twenty minutes from downtown and about five minutes from my new office. It was weird that this was the first time I was actually seeing it in person, but thankfully, it lived up to the pictures I’d seen online. Hopefully, the inside would as well.
A chill blew through me, spurring me to action. I turned and grabbed a box out of the back of the cab and headed for the front door, using the code I’d been given to let myself in.
The last three months had been a whirlwind after coming home early on Christmas Eve to find my husband balls-deep in our director of marketing’s ass. Dmitri had thought he’d havethe house to himself for a few hours while I headed out to do a little last-minute Christmas shopping, but I’d decided to stop home first and pick up a package to run to the post office, taking them both by surprise. Needless to say, this past Christmas had been one I’d rather forget.
Shaking off the unpleasant memories, I set to work unpacking my truck while Goldie sniffed her way through every inch of our new home. By eleven-thirty, I had the truck unloaded and had begun unpacking, but after a long drive, I was exhausted and decided to leave it to finish tomorrow in the light of day.
My new furniture wasn’t due to arrive until the following day, so I pulled out my sleeping bag and pillow and made a pallet on the floor. Settling in with Goldie at my side, I closed my eyes, but despite my exhaustion, sleep was elusive.
It had been years since I’d been back in Nebraska. I hadn’t even purchased this house in person, opting to do everything online. I’d avoided coming home in college, unable to bear the thought of crossing paths with Sammy, and on those few occasions that I’d had no choice but to step foot in Astaire, I’d confined myself to my mother’s house as much as possible and returned to West Lafayette as soon as I could. Later, when I moved to Chicago and started building a life there, it had been easy to make excuses for not traveling back, so Mom and Jeff visited me there.
But with my impending divorce, which would hopefully be finalized next month, it had been time for a change. The construction firm I had been employed by was owned by my ex’s father. Between that and the fact that the man Dmitri had been fucking for months was the marketing director of the same company, it had been clear that it was time for me to start fresh somewhere new.
And if truth be told, I missed my mom. She’d come to see me many times over the years when I made excuses for why I couldn’t come home, and though she never complained or pushed, I knew she would love to have me closer. So when I debated where I might look for a job, Omaha had sounded more and more appealing. It was a smaller city with a slower pace and still just an hour away from Mom and Jeff.
Luck had been on my side when I’d been hired by the second company I’d interviewed with, a mid-sized construction company specializing in working with clients in the healthcare field. I was due to start my new job at Rogers Construction on Monday.
