and he pressed his to mine with a growl.
"Good enough," he said. When he kissed me, I let go, melting into him, forgetting about everything else except the sensation of his skin on mine. Right now, he and I were the only things in the world that mattered to me. "Come with me, Tempest."
Just like before, his command pushed me over the edge, and I clung to him, my head buried in his shoulder, screaming into him as I came. Silas called out my name as he crashed into me, burying himself to the hilt in me and letting go.
When I finally opened my eyes, the pulsing between my legs still insistent, Silas’ eyes were the only things I saw. "Silas," I whispered.
He covered the side of my face with his palm, stroking my cheek with his thumb. "Tempest," he whispered. He kissed my lips again. "Why is fucking you so amazing?"
"It's probably because I'm awesome," I said, grinning. I felt giddy in the afterglow of sex.
"That's a given," he said, looking at me for a long time before I finally glanced away. The way he was looking at me...
It made me feel like there could be something more.
"Look at me, Tempest," he said.
"Silas, I ca- " I started. "It's too-"
I didn't say what I was thinking.
It's too much. It's too...intimate.
"Tempest," he said. "Stay here. With me." He didn't move from where he was, buried inside me.
"I can't, Silas, I'll have to-"
He stopped me. "I didn't say stay with me forever," he said. "Just right now. Hole up with me here for a while. Hide out with me. Whatever you have outside of here, it can wait. Press the pause button on everything else."
I opened my mouth, my thoughts filled with all of the reasons not to do exactly what Silas was asking me to do.
I was going to have to leave - I was part of a crew who needed me.
I couldn't love someone.
I was a fraud.
I couldn't give him what he wanted. I couldn't bare my soul. It was too late for me. I was too used to playing a million different roles.
"You're not saying no, Tempest," Silas said, pre-empting all of my unspoken objections, as if he could read my mind.
And, so despite all of my fears, all of the shit that was swirling around in my head like crazy, threatening to overwhelm me, I said yes.
"Okay," I said. “I’ll do it. Put everything on hold. Push the pause button.”
"It's not going to work," she said from where she sat on the armchair, her back ramrod straight, both feet on the floor.
"Just open your mouth and stop whining," I said. "Hold still."
"Hurry up and get it over with," she said. "Five bucks says you can't make the shot."
I stood at the entrance to the living room, a bag of popcorn in one hand and one piece in the other. "Five bucks," I said. "But don't try to cheat and move your head at the last minute, either."
"Grifter's honor," Tempest said, winking. She scooted to the very edge of the chair and opened her mouth wide. "Okay. Do it."
I tossed the popcorn at her, and when it bounced off her forehead, she laughed. "That's some piss poor aim you've got there."
"That's not what you said last night," I said, leering at her.
Tempest laughed. "Five bucks, buddy," she said. "And I don't take IOUs."
Crossing the room, I picked up the remote and pressed the play button, starting the movie, some romantic comedy Tempest had picked. Pulling her to her feet, I slid in behind her on the oversized armchair and pulled her down on my lap, her feet hanging over the armrests. "Can I pay you in sex?" I asked.
Tempest arched one eyebrow. "Five bucks? You're a cheap lay."
"I never said I wasn't," I said, digging my hand into the bag of popcorn now resting on her lap. I purposely dropped some pieces down the front of her chest, covered in the thin fabric of one of my cotton t-shirts she was wearing. "Oops. I guess I'll have to retrieve that."
Tempest laughed as she swatted my hands away from her breasts. "You're terrible," she said.
"By terrible, you obviously mean hot and sexy," I said, grabbing a handful of boob. She giggled and swatted me away, distracted by the movie.
"This is River, isn't it?" she asked, pointing toward the actress on the screen.
"Yeah, that's her," I said.
"She's gorgeous."
“Can you believe my fucking brother is with her?” I asked.
“I can,” Tempest said, giving me a wicked grin. “A guy that hot? I’d do him.”
I ran my hand over her breast again. “You better not,” I said. “These are mine.”
Tempest laughed. “Don’t worry,” she said. “You’re the better looking twin.”
“I’m going to have to watch leaving you alone with him," I said, shaking my head. "She moved back here with him and everything, completely walked away from Hollywood."
Tempest pulled herself upright on my lap and turned toward me. "Do you think people can really do that?"
"Do what?" I asked, but I already knew what she was talking about. I just wanted to hear her say it. I wanted to know she was thinking about me and her.
The truth was, I fucking knew what I wanted.
I'd known since I was seventeen years old. And being back here with her, pushing the pause button on the outside world, was only confirming everything I felt.
"Do you think it's possible to just leave everything behind?" she asked. "The way River did for Elias?"
"Isn't that what you do?" I asked.
She shook her head. "I don’t understand,” she said. “What do you mean?"
"The woman with a thousand identities is asking me if it's possible to reinvent yourself?" I asked.
She exhaled heavily. "That's not the same thing," she said.
"No, it's not." I took a strand of hair from where it fell in front of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. "It's easy to just take a new identity. It's a lot harder to come back home. Reinventing yourself and becoming someone else is simple. Owning who you are, that's the hard thing, Tempest."
She looked at me for a long time with soft eyes, before she spoke again. "I've never had a home, Silas."
"I'm not talking about a place, Tempest," I said. "My parents- you already know how they were. My father was a drunk asshole and my mother was...well, she tried her best to get between you and I back then, to stop anything else that might have happened between us. And most everybody in this town thought my brothers and I were the white trash spawn of my no-good parents."
"But you came back here," she said. "You still feel like this place is your home."
"No," I said, shaking my head. "You know that's not what I'm talking about, Tempest. It's not this place."
She trailed her finger along my shoulder for a while, following it with her eyes, before she finally looked up at me. "West Bend is the only place I'd ever been where I felt like I belonged," she said.
Exhaling heavily, I wrapped my hand around her wrist gently, stopping her from distracting herself by touching me. "You are the reason this place felt like home, Tempest."
"I get...restless," she said, shaking her head. "I've never stayed in one place."
I kissed her on the lips, sliding my hand back to the nape of her neck and pulling her to me. I wanted this girl more than I'd ever wanted anything in my life.
Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply the familiar scent of her. I wanted to drink her in.
I wanted to love her.
I just wasn’t sure if she’d let me.
I lay on my stomach in Silas' bed, wearing his t-shirt and nothing else, kicking my feet up in the air behind me. Silas and I had decided to press the pause button on everything outside of this place.
I'd never done something like this before.
I wasn't sure I could.
When I'd said I had to go back to the little bed and breakfast where I'd been staying, I was sure that Silas thought I was taking off permanently. He'd kissed me long and hard, his hands trailing up my back and through my
hair, the kind of kiss you have with someone when they're leaving and you're never going to see them again.
It was the kind of kiss you leave someone with, hoping that will be the last thing they remember about you.
On the entire ride over to the bed and breakfast, I thought about how easy it would be to just leave, ride off on my bike into the sunset and forget about Silas.
The same way I'd done before.
Except it never had been that easy to forget about him. I'd done a shit job of it. Silas had never left me – he was always there, a part of me. I might have walked away from West Bend, but I had never really left him behind.
I told myself that it was stupid to stay here. I should rip off the bandage and leave now, before it was too painful to do it later.
And then I'd checked out of the bed and breakfast, turned my bike around, and come right back here.
Back to Silas.
Silas came up behind me, crawled into bed, and slid his arm across the small of my back. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing,” I lied, changing the subject. “I was just looking at your bed. It’s so beautiful, just like your other furniture. Is it something local?”
“I made it,” Silas said.
I slid up to a sitting position and reached out to run my fingers along the headboard. “You made this,” I said. “Yourself.”
Silas nodded. “Don’t sound so surprised,” he said. “You don’t know everything there is to know about me.”
“Clearly,” I said. “You’re a man of mystery, Silas Saint.”
“I’m like the James Bond of West Bend, Colorado,” he said, winking.
“So you really made all of this?”
Silas shrugged. “After you left, I was pissed off at everyone and everything,” he said. “I threw myself into wrestling, and Coach Westmoreland knew my parents weren’t the best, so I ended up spending a lot of time at practice and stuff. He and his wife started letting me come home for dinners, that kind of thing. They didn’t have any kids – I don’t think she could have them- so they treated me like their own. Better than my parents did.”
“Your coach is the one renting you this place now,” I said.
“Yeah, his wife died a couple years back – I wasn’t here then – but I know he took it pretty hard. This was the first place I came right to when I came back to West Bend a few months ago. I didn’t even go to see my mother for a while after I got here,” he said. “I just came to see Coach.”
“What about the furniture?” I asked. “Is he the one who got you into making it?”
“Oh, yeah, the furniture,” Silas said. “It was Coach’s thing. He had his whole garage set up as this workshop, and he’d go in there and hole up and make things. After you left, he got me started in doing it. He said I needed to have something other than wrestling to occupy my mind, and wood-working was just relaxing.”
I wanted to tell Silas that he wasn’t the only one who had been devastated when I’d left. But instead, I touched the headboard of the bed, let my fingers linger on the surface of the wood that had been painstakingly carved and sanded until it was soft and smooth. “This is really cool, Silas,” I said.
“It’s aspen,” Silas said. “It’s local.”
“You should make pieces like this and sell them. You’re really good.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Nah, I could never do that.”
“Why not?”
Silas shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “People aren’t going to buy that stuff. Not from me, anyway. It’s just a hobby.”
Stretching back out on the bed, I pulled Silas down beside me to face me. “You could do something really cool with this,” I said. “When you have talent like that, you shouldn’t waste it.”
“The talent I have is beating people up,” Silas said. “And even that isn’t exactly talent.”
“Is that what you’ve been doing?” I asked. I suddenly realized that Silas had been probing into what I’d been doing for the past seven years, pulling information from me piece by piece. Meanwhile, I knew only what I’d assumed about him, and that was turning out to be different from real life.
“What, since you left?” Silas asked. “I haven’t been doing anything much. Nothing important.”
“Tell me anyway,” I said, my hand smoothing the fabric of his t-shirt over his chest, feeling the harness of his muscles as they flexed underneath his shirt in response to my touch. “Did you get that scholarship you were up for in high school? The wrestling one?”
“To Oklahoma State?” Silas asked, his face reddening.
“What?” I asked. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I mean, yes, I got the scholarship. No you didn’t say anything wrong. It’s just – I got kicked out.”
“You got kicked out of college?” I asked.
“It happened at the beginning of sophomore year,” he said. “After that I went to Albuquerque, worked some odd jobs and got on the fight circuit out there. There’s a lot of unofficial stuff in that area - MMA, boxing, that kind of thing. I’d fight anyone and anything, didn’t matter what it was.”
“Why’d you get kicked out of college?” I asked. “What happened?”
Silas exhaled heavily. “I beat up this guy,” he said. “And I got kicked out for assault. It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal, but the kid had money. His parents donated a wing of one of the buildings or something. They didn’t end up pressing charges, but only because of what happened being public.”
“What do you mean?”
“We were at some party, and he was arguing with this girl – I didn’t know who the hell either of them were, but he hit her. The girl had a fucking bloody nose; I mean, she was bleeding all over the place. And someone was standing there with a cell phone recording. So I kicked the shit out of him, and took the girl to the hospital.”
“So they kicked you out of school for that?” I asked. I hadn’t been to college, but it seemed to me that they wouldn’t want someone who was hitting their girlfriend to be a student.
“Money talks,” he said. “You of all people should know that better than anyone. Anyway, what the hell would I have done with a degree? You don’t need a degree to fight in the ring.”
“You’re one of the smartest people I know, Silas,” I said. “You were always reading all those books when we were in school.”
“Yeah, but knowing a bunch of shit about history and philosophy doesn’t pay the bills, does it?” Silas asked, his voice bitter. Then he smiled, and touched my arm. “Water under the bridge, right? No use crying over spilled milk and all that. Is there another cliché I could use that would be appropriate here?”
I laughed. “The past is the past?”
“Exactly,” he said, his hand cupping my ass. “Why don’t you distract me with the present, instead?”
“Mmm,” I said, as Silas leaned close and kissed me. He started pulling on the sides of my shirt, but I stopped him. “Wait.”
Silas shook his head. “What’s this waiting you’re talking about?”
“I want to see the workshop,” I said. “Where you built all of this stuff. I want to see what you’re working on.”
“I’ll trade you,” he said, sliding his hand underneath the fabric of my shirt and cupping my breast.
“For what?” I moaned, distracted by the fact that his palm was rough against my nipple.