“I don’t get why you hate her and me, but I guess… I guess I have to accept that it’s just how you feel.” We’re both silent for a few minutes, eating our pizzas.
“I should probably just sign the paperwork and get home,” Lara tells me, and I have to agree that’s probably for the best.
Chapter Sixteen
Ethan
After Riley’s asleep for the night, I have a load of energy. Telling Lara the truth about what happened felt good.
My parents were surprised when I told them that I was seeing Alexis. I decided to wait a few weeks to tell them that she was pregnant, but they were happy for me.
They never asked if the pregnancy was planned or how long I had been with Alexis. Although we were close, how exactly do you tell your parents that you had a one-night stand with your ex’s sister and she got pregnant that same night?
I feel good for the first time since Alexis died and I instantly feel guilty. I decide to flip on the TV and relax before going to bed.
I sit there for a few minutes and zone out a little.
As I’m sitting around, trying to figure out what to do with myself, the memories flicker through my mind without any way for me to stop them. All I can think about is the time, somewhere a few weeks before we broke up, when Lara and I had sex. It had been during spring break, when we were both eighteen, and our parents had agreed to let us spend the weekend that break started at a cabin close to the beach.
I remember seeing Lara with the towel draped around her naked body, fresh from the cabin’s shower, after we got back from the beach for the day. The way she’d let it just fall down onto the floor as she came into the bedroom, and looked so shy at the same time, in spite of the fact that we’d already had sex a few times that weekend. It wasn’t as though I hadn’t seen her naked before.
I know that there has to be something completely and totally wrong with me to be remembering Lara as a barely adult teenager, naked, when my wife is so recently dead, but I can’t help myself. I get out of the living room and decide that I should take a shower.
I grab a towel out of the linen closet and step into the bathroom. I put the baby monitor on the counter and start stripping off my clothes, determined to just get in, get cleaned, and then, somehow, find something to do with myself.
I turn on the water and only barely remember to wait for it to heat up before I step over the lip of the tub and under the flow of the water. I groan, it feels even better than I thought it would, and I just stand there a few moments, letting the water pour over me.
But then once again I’m thinking of Lara at the cabin. I groan again, but this time it’s because the thought of Lara naked is enough to send a jolt of heat straight to my groin, making my cock start to stiffen.
I know it’s wrong.
I shouldn’t even feel capable of being turned on by anything right now. I should be so depressed that even the thought of being with anyone turns my stomach. But all I can think about right now is how good it would feel to be with Lara again. It’s easy, beyond easy, to remember what it was like with her before all our fighting broke us up.
And then I’m fully hard, my cock throbbing, and the water running over my skin does nothing to help. That weekend we spent in the cabin by the beach, we spent almost as much time exploring all the ways our eighteen-year-old brains could come up with for having sex as we did doing anything else. That weekend is spinning through my brain, and there’s no way I’m going to not be able to take care of it.
I start stroking myself slowly, at first telling myself that it’s just an extension of soaping up my body, but I know better. Instead of mourning Alexis I’m fantasizing about her sister. I lean against the wall. My knees feel weak, like all the blood is pooling between my hips and making it impossible for the rest of me to even function. It’s fucked up, but I can’t help what my brain is doing.
I stop thinking about what she was like when we were both teenagers, and it’s like the image of her in her towel is seared into my brain. I think about what it would be like to go to her, to tell her how fucked up I feel about everything that’s happened. I close my eyes and imagine catching the tail of the towel she’d had draped around her, and using that to pull her to me.
In my mind, teenage Lara is now adult Lara. She looks at me with a confused expression on her face and she’d ask me what the hell I’m thinking. I imagine kissing her. “I just need to feel like it’s possible that I’ll feel good again.” It’s the truth, but something about the way I say it in my mind doesn’t seem right, but my brain isn’t getting enough blood flow for me to argue with myself.
I start working myself harder, remembering the way Lara had felt when we’d still been together, before we’d broken up. Surely, she’s been with some other guys in the meantime, so she’s probably more experienced, not that she needed any more skills. I’m shaking, teasing the tip of my cock with my thumb while I use my other hand to cup my balls, rub them a little bit. I imagine Lara giving into me, looking at me with those
