Page 33 of Lick

He winks at me and gets up, taking my tea from me with one hand before helping me up with the other. My head spins for a minute, making my grip on his hand tighten.

“Whoa. Steady. On second thought, sit back down and drink your tea, and I’ll go run you a bath.”

“I can do⁠—”

“Just say ‘thank you, Lick.’”

My shoulders fall in defeat. “Thank you, Lick.”

“Is it really so bad having me look after you?”

“No. I’m just not used to it. I feel like I’m constantly looking for invisible strings.”

“No strings. I just…” He puts my mug down and lowers me back down to the sofa before pushing my legs open and squatting between them.

I suck in a shaky breath, the night we spent together flashing through my mind in glorious technicolour.

“I want to build something with you, however that may look. And I know people are gonna have their opinions, but fuck ‘em. I don’t care what anyone thinks but you.”

I swallow, reach up to cup his jaw, and read the sincerity on his face. I warn my heart to be careful. This man would be so damn easy to fall for, but I’ve learned from my mistakes the hard way. I spent so long trying to be someone’s everything that I faded away. I turned myself inside out as I recreated myself over and over from fresh-faced teen to mother, nurturer to sex goddess, and everything in between. And it was never enough. I gave up my hopes and dreams and all the pieces that made me, me, in some desperate bid to hold my family together. Only to find that the second my grip slipped, it was all for nothing. Everything was gone, floating away just out of my orbit. Sometimes I wake up in a cold sweat, my hands reaching into the darkness, my fingertips trying to find purchase on something that’s just beyond my reach. It’s a recurring dream that reframes itself a dozen times over, but one thing remains the same. I’m always the one chasing, and if I stand still for even a second, I find myself alone.

“Emma?”

“I don’t know how to do this without blind terror leading my actions. The last time I took this journey, I lost everything. Some days I don’t know how I made it through. The girl you met in Shooters that night is not the real me. She’s just an aspect of the woman I could have been if life had been kinder, and I’d made smarter choices along the way. This,” I indicate to myself, “minus the vomit and the weight loss, is me. I’m a jeans-and-T-shirt kind of girl because I missed the parts of my teens and early twenties when I learned how to do my makeup and dress up, figuring out where to shop, and what flattered me. Hell, I had to look at a YouTube video to learn how to French braid my daughter’s hair. It still took me a year to get it right.”

“Your ex ever braid your daughter’s hair?”

“What? Um, no. He never did anything like that. Though he’d tell you if he did, he’d get it right first try.”

“Then it makes it worse that he didn’t try. And it makes you that much more awesome for not quitting. You showed your kid not to give up when something is hard.”

I frown, reshuffling his words in my head and removing Dan’s critical words from my memory. He’s right. I didn’t realize until just now how many of my negative thoughts never actually came from me. When I berate myself, it’s not my voice I hear but Dan’s.

I shake my head and look at Lick, and this time I really look at him. His eyes hold none of the cold aloofness that Dan’s did right before we broke up. The pity or the patronizing expressions, the gritted teeth and frown of disappointment that I could never pull off the perfect wife act he envisioned. The higher the ladder he climbed, the more he looked down on me. The world was his oyster, and he needed his wife to be the perfect pearl.

He never realized that it was his neglect that left me feeling bruised and tarnished, that every put-down or backhanded compliment made me withdraw into myself until the funny and vivacious girl he fell in love with was nothing but an echo in our lives.

“I’m not sure how to do this—co-parenting without being in a relationship—but I want to try. I want this to work for our kid.”

He frowns for a moment before his face clears, and he grabs both my hands in his. “We’ll figure it all out. You’ll see.”

I want to trust this man, and perhaps part of me already does. I guess only time will tell.

14

Lick

Irun her a bath, finding towels in the tall cupboard next to the mirror. I take a couple and hang them on the radiator to warm up before rummaging under the sink for bubble bath, which I use a healthy glug of. I make sure everything else is in reach before I walk across the hall to her bedroom. I open the drawers of her dresser until I find a pair of comfortable-looking PJs and some black cotton briefs. They’re nothing fancy, but my cock goes rock hard at the thought of peeling them off her.

With a shake of my head, I gather them up and carry them to the bathroom, turning off the taps before heading back out to the living room to find her. She’s curled up on the sofa, her almost-empty cup in her lap. As I move in front of her, I take the cup and put it on the table before I reach down and scoop her up.

She yelps in surprise, wrapping her arms around my neck tightly as if she’s scared I’ll drop her. “What are you doing? You’ll break your back.”

“I’m insulted. I’ve had pets that weigh more than you. You could gain another fifty pounds, and I’d still be able to carry you without an issue.”

“Did you just compare me with an animal?”

I look at her and see her eyes twinkling at me, so I know she’s joking. It’s a fucking relief to see the spark back in the woman. I was worried I wouldn’t see it again. “There’s that sass.”