After I get a fire going, I sit on the couch in the same spot where I was with her. I lean my head against the couch’s spine and try to summon the feeling of Elise moving on my lap. The way her arms felt as she wrapped them around my neck. The way her warm cheek nuzzled mine.
“Now I see you. I’ve been near you, and you’re not that different.”
“It’s okay, cuore.”
“I would have done everything I could have done to save you. Every single thing.”
God, it’s…fucking crazy. That she said that shit to me. Elise was right here, on this very couch, and she was hugging me. She said she would have saved me.
Would have. But it’s enough. It’s more than enough. It doesn’t matter if it fucks me up, remembering the feel of her, the taste of her, the smell of her. I don’t care how much it hurts. I want it. I would fall through frozen ice over and over if I knew it would lead to seeing her. And touching her. Even hearing her voice.
I can feel her hand in my hair. I can feel her soft, warm cheek against mine. I can feel her mouth around my dick. So good.
I shut my eyes and let my mind make a collage of moments.
“You twisted me up. And I’m still twisted.”
“You still smell the same. Isn’t that weird?”
“I think regret is our thing, don’t you?”
I let myself remember how it felt to hold her. I can feel her mouth kissing my throat, and I’m hard in my black sleep pants. I stroke myself a time or two, and suddenly I can’t keep sitting here. It’s that same feeling I had earlier this morning, right before I snapped the blades onto my boots.
I pace around until I feel like I can breathe. Then I tell myself I need to eat. I rifle through the pantry, finding that the only things I’ve got are Vienna Sausage, olives in a jar, and some frozen salmon. The damn salmon looks freezer-burned.
I lean my hip against the counter, rubbing my temples, and that’s when I hear a creak. I’m at the dining table in a heartbeat, reaching under the ball cap I keep on a placemat, which hides a small revolver. My eyes lock onto the rear door, which has a very insecure cube of four small windows. I hear someone opening the screen door—jeez, they’re being fucking loud—and wrap my hand around the gun’s grip, cursing myself for not replacing these windowed doors when I purchased this place a few years back.
Then a cloaked figure moves into view. She lifts her head and…it’s Elise.
She looks up, through the window, her coat’s hood falling further down her forehead. I see the moment she sees me. Her eyes widen, and she makes a funny little face where her mouth opens—like hi Luca, I’m here. She looks…maybe nervous.
My hand can barely manage to turn the doorknob. Then the door is open, and she’s standing there in her wine red coat and tall, fur-trimmed boots. Her cheeks are red, there’s snow on her eyelashes, and she’s holding a plush, rectangular bag that’s got a fruit pattern.
“Hi.” Her eyes widen as she twists her mouth into a smile, and I realize she’s got on lipstick.
“Hi there,” I hear myself say.
She laughs, and I realize I should step back, let her step in. As soon as she’s in, I smell the perfume. Fucking shit, it fills my head and takes me back.
“So…” She’s laughing again as she holds the fruit bag out. “This is a cooler. I brought lemon cake. And pizza. Also, spiked cider. Because it’s cold, and when it’s cold, I like spiked cider.”
Holy shit, she’s red in the cheeks. Her eyes lock onto mine, and then her face goes slack and maybe even slightly pale.
I take the cooler from her, waiting for her to say more, but she just blinks up at me, looking stricken, and I want to touch her so bad—but I’m holding the bag. I hold it up more.
“I like lemon cake and pizza,” I say, making sure my voice sounds light and teasing. “Did you bring these things for me?”
I grin, almost laughing as she looks up at me with her still-wide brown eyes and a tentative smile.
“Yes,” she whispers. “They’re for you. Or…us.” She swallows. “I invited myself here for dinner. And a movie. E.T. is in the bottom of the cooler. It’s on VHS, and that’s all I could find.”
She looks into the living area, her eyes widening as she notices the flatscreen. “But maybe I don’t need to worry about that. You’ve updated more than I have.”
“I moved that little TV with the built-in VHS into the bedroom.”
“Was it in there?” She frowns. “I didn’t even notice.”