Fast & Wet (The Fast 2)

“Go look then,” he waves his arms around. “Go on!”

“Fine,” I cock my head in defiance and start down the hallway. Several doors line each side of the hall, the first being a restroom and a spare bedroom.

“How about in there? Any chicks in there?” He asks for every room I stomp into.

There’s a gym. There’s a room with wall to wall helmets and trophies inside and a desk. The master bedroom is bigger than my whole apartment, twice over, in Cambridge. Its walls are all windows opening onto the deck area and dark gray curtains. Mostly I’m noticing the bed, though, and the obvious one side of it that has covers thrown back and pillows used, the other side still pristine and made up.

“Better look in the closet, I may be hiding them in there,” he snarks.

“Don’t you gaslight me!” I spin and yell back at him.

“I am not fucking gaslighting you.”

“No, you aren’t fucking me at all, are you?” This has devolved into a spiteful yelling match, but it’s overdue, and we’re going to do it.

“You want to know why?”

“Yes,” I state authoritatively and cross my hands over my chest again, waiting for his answer.

“Well, let’s see, the first time in the motorhome, after my crash,” he starts listing, “I was so full of adrenaline I was afraid I was going to hurt you. And I wasn’t going to fuck you for the first time in six years in the goddamn motorhome.”

His voice is getting more irritated as he continues his list, “Then in your hotel room you literally fell asleep on top of me. Then what? Oh, the car. Yeah, asshole that I am didn’t think that was the appropriate time, either. And then the jet on the way home with Liam and a dozen other people on the plane. The airplane bathroom didn’t seem like the most romantic of choices. But fuck me, right, what a prick I am?”

“What about last night?” I ask quietly, staring at the floor. I’m starting to feel like a giant asshole, now, when he puts it like this.

I didn’t use to be like this.

He sighs and paces across the plush, cream carpet in his bedroom before turning back toward me. “It’s been six years, Em. Do you know how many times I pictured it in my head? Us getting back together? I just wanted…”

“What?” I whisper.

His eyes watch me, the blue reflecting the sun’s rays coming in through the glass as the sun moves high into the sky. “I just wanted it to be perfect,” he shrugs.

Both of us stand there silently for several beats as the first wave of brutal honestly hits us.

“There are no other women now?” I ask sheepishly. I need to know for sure. I want to hear the words.

He steps toward me and takes my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him, “No. There’s only you. It kills me that you think I’m like that, that I would cheat on you.”

The waterworks have slowed, but the well isn’t dry, and I feel moisture seep from my eyes again. “You have to understand, Cole. You left me, you hurt me.”

He nods and hangs his head. His shoulders are slumped, and I know he’s ashamed. “This is just about other women?” He asks quietly, staring at the ground.

I don’t like his use of the word ‘just,’ like it’s a minor detail.

“I’ve had to see you with all these other girls, all these years. I don’t want to be insecure or jealous, but… it’s hard. I’m not like them.”

Both of his warm palms cover my cheeks, and he looks me in the eye with a lingering intensity, “You listen to me, and you listen good. I have been with a lot of women, Emily. A lot.”

I force my eyes away, I don’t want to hear this.

He brings my face back to his, “You are the only one I want. The only one I have ever felt this way about. You’re not like them. None of them meant anything. You mean everything. Okay?”

He’s waiting for me to answer, but tears are streaming down my face. I need to blow my nose, and this has not gone how I was expecting it to. I came here to yell and catch him cheating, and now I’m a blubbering mess.

There’s just so many years of emotions battling inside of me.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, Em. You’re my gorgeous girl. Okay?”