I took a deep breath, trying to keep the strange comfort of his worry at arm’s length. “I’m fine.”
“What happened?”
“It’s a long story…”
“You got something else to do?” he asked.
“No.”
“Me neither. Might as well tell me.”
I flung an arm out across the bed. Night was falling outside the trailer. I could hear the sounds of the kids on the other side of the rhododendron playing at the swing set. Someone somewhere was grilling hamburgers.
“This…is just kind of a sad place, is all. Sad people.”
“And you’re feeling sad?”
“Not very sexy, is it?” I said with a little laugh. “How about I call you—”
“How about you tell me what happened?”
Something sharp and thorny turned in my chest. “A guy showed up and almost beat up his wife. Nearly ruined his kid’s birthday party. I ran away but this other woman just…charged right in. Made the guy leave.”
“Christ, that was risky.”
“I know. But it was really brave, you know? And I ate the kid’s birthday cake for breakfast and that’s my brave and I just felt…stupid. And awful.”
“Well, that’s not really fair, is it?”
“Fair has nothing to do with anything. Ever.” I sounded bitter, far more bitter than I thought I felt. But it was there all along, this bitter and angry sea, dark and awful and full of monsters, just waiting for me to dive in and get eaten.
Dylan laughed. “This is true. My whole life…I just wanted to be like my brother. My whole life. He was the toughest. The bravest. The most badass guy around. And I just followed that guy around trying to do the shit that he did.”
“What happened?”
“I learned I’m not that badass. And that some people just don’t give a fuck what happens to them. And I don’t know if that’s brave or just crazy.”
I thought of Joan beside the pond today and how she seemed to have a thick armor of I-don’t-give-a-shit. And how lonely that was.
And Ben. God. So lonely it hurt. So lonely he was like a feral mountain man or something. Cooking food that reminded him of a woman he’d driven away.
“I’d rather care,” I said, thinking about the night I ran and the dozen nights before that, when I felt myself slipping, slipping, slipping into not caring. I’d run away so that I could find something to care about.
That was my brave, I realized. Risking everything so I could feel something again. And I suddenly felt proud of myself.
“Me too. Every time. All the years I spent not caring. Or pretending I didn’t give a shit—they were bad years. I’m not saying she wasn’t brave trying to protect that woman. I’m just saying what she did doesn’t make you not brave.”
“Thanks,” I said, more sigh than anything else.
“No problem. But the dessert…what was it?”
“Yellow cake with chocolate frosting.”
“And?”
“Can’t say I loved it.”
“You gotta try tres leches cake.”
“I have no idea what that is.”
“It’s pretty much the best thing going.”
“Noted,” I said with a smile.
“So dessert for breakfast was a bust,” Dylan said. “How about skinny-dipping?”
I smiled and rolled onto my back, eager to think of something else. Eager to not be lonely. This connection with Dylan was strange. But it was real. And the world could be a cold place without connection.
“Skinny-dipping was awesome.”
“Yeah?”
“It was so hot today and I’d been working hard and the water was so cold. So…perfect.”
“Sounds like you did it right.”
“There was another woman there.”
His chuckle lit me up from the inside. “Do tell.”
“We just…swam. You know?”
“Tell me swam is some kind of code word for making out.”
I laughed, but I couldn’t lie; I felt hot at the idea. A blush rising up my body making me dizzy. “No…but I saw her kind of naked and…she has an amazing body. She’s a stripper.”
“Oh Jesus, baby…”
Somehow, somehow I’d gone from uninterested and sad to hot. Hot and wet in no time. A chuckle from this man and I was ready to go, my hand in my underwear, testing the swollen edges of my lips.
“I want you to touch yourself tonight,” I said.
“Why?”
“Because…I don’t want to do this alone. Alone…isn’t the point when I’m with you.”
“With me?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Baby, you can’t be building any fantasies around me. Around this. I’m not…”
He trailed off and I held my breath, waiting for him to reveal something about himself. “You’re not what?” I prompted.
“Anything a girl like you should build fantasies around.”
“A girl like me?” I asked.
“Innocent, young…”
“You’re only twenty-nine,” I said, because if there was one thing