For the Love of a Lush (Lush No. 2) by Selena Laurence

Author:Selena Laurence [Laurence, Selena]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Amazon: B00KKT5TMU
Publisher: C.P. Writes, LLC
Published: 2014-05-24T23:00:00+00:00

Walsh

I WAKE at five a.m., my body conditioned to living at the ranch where you’re up before the sun starts to filter in over the horizon. It takes me a moment to get my bearings. Something is familiar yet very different. I turn my head and see Tammy’s face covered by skeins of her long dark hair, the sheets having slipped to expose one perfect breast.

Then it all comes back to me in a flash—a man’s hands on her, the fight, talking, breathing her in like some sort of oxygen I’ve been craving for months. Her skin against mine, the feeling that some missing part of me was returned. The way it felt to be inside her, her dark, dense walls clutching me as she gasped my name.

I sit up carefully, dreading the idea of waking her, having to face her. As powerful as the longings are, the need to flee is greater. I lean down and pick up my clothing, panic washing over me as she makes a little sound and rolls over onto her back. Silent as a mouse, I pull on my boxer briefs and then tiptoe out of the room, the rest of my clothes in hand.

Once I get into the hallway, I slip into my jeans, t-shirt, and boots. I turn and face the closed door to Tammy’s room, my heart beating like it might escape my chest. I place my palm against the cool, smooth door. It’s as if I can feel her heart beating through the old wood, and the pull—her pull—is so magnetic I nearly can’t take the first few steps away. But I do, down the hall, then the stairs, and out into the gray dusk before sunrise.

My mind is spinning, emotions reeling inside of me, rolling through me one after another so rapidly that it makes me motion sick. I’m dizzy, nauseous, and shaking hard. I hear Mike’s words. "I don’t have a fiancée for you to fuck." Then Joss’s. "It’s not what you think." Then Tammy’s. "It was an accident, I swear." I can’t sort through it all. It sticks in my head and in my heart, and the force of it nearly brings me to my knees.

I’m overwhelmed in a way that has me almost unable to stagger down the sidewalk. I try to breathe, try to think of something—anything—that will clear my head, but all I can process is the stunning contradictions of what lies in my heart at this moment. The love, the lust, the complete lack of trust. And ultimately, the complete lack of worth.

Because I’m not worth it—not worth her. If that weren’t the case, she’d have never cheated on me. I can’t blame her, really, and it feels good somehow to finally admit that. As hurt as I was by what Tammy did, it was no more or less than I’d expected all along. Who would want a raging alcoholic? A guy whose biggest accomplishment in life is banging on a piece of plastic with a pair of sticks? Shit, toddlers do it.

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