Текст книги "Throttled"

Автор книги: Elizabeth Lee

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

Reid’s parents were good people. They’d always treated me like I was one of their own and the thought that he was going repay them for their sacrifices was tugging at my heartstrings.

“I’m a really nice guy,” he said matter-of-factly, holding my stare. “Most people think so anyway,” he laughed. “I just hope they are excited. I know that I’m not a big fan of surprises so I hope it’s not a hereditary trait.”

“I’m sure they will love it.”

He just couldn’t take a compliment without trying to get under my skin, could he? I could have argued that I wasn’t a big fan of being surprised by his return to town, but with Beau standing so close I decided it wasn’t the best time to start an argument with Reid again.

“It was great catching up,” Beau said, tightening his hold on me. “But we should probably get back to Georgia.”

I’d forgotten about my sister sitting all alone in the booth, but when I looked over at her I saw she was fully enthralled with watching Hoyt and Brett play pool. I wondered which one had caught her eye. I knew that Brett had tried, but I’d been so flustered with Reid that I didn’t even bother to ask her.

“Yeah, we should go,” I agreed. Beau dropped his arms from my waist, but managed to slip his hand into mine as we turned.

“I’ll see you around, Shutterbug,” Reid added as we walked away.

Like hell he would.

I waited for Beau’s interrogation about why he had just found me in a bar with my ex-boyfriend, but as soon as we were outside, he squeezed my hand in his and led me over to his truck without saying a word.

I’d explained to Georgia why I was ready to call it a night and that had went over about as well as giving a cat a bath.

“Every damn time we are supposed to hang out he shows up and ruins it,” she’d pouted. She was right about Beau interrupting our night, but it had a whole lot more to do with Reid being in the same vicinity as me that night.

“It’s not like that tonight, G,” I had tried to smooth it over. “It’s just been a long day and I can’t be here any longer.” I’d pleaded with my eyes and hoped that she understood.

“Fine¸” she’d huffed. “But next time, if he shows up,” she glared in Beau’s direction. “I’m going to cut him.”

“Deal,” I’d agreed, forcing a laugh. “Next time it will just be us.”

In the two years that I’d been seeing Beau, I could honestly say that he had been a good boyfriend, which made me feel that much guiltier about the mixed feelings I was having about Reid.

The infuriating way my heart raced when I was near him had me thinking seriously about my relationship with Beau. He was handsome in his own way—perfectly styled blonde hair, crystal clear blue eyes and his crooked smile. He was attentive and we enjoyed spending time together. But still, what I felt when I was near him physically didn’t compare to the way Reid seemed to push my buttons. Before Reid showed back up, it was easy to pretend that what I had with Beau was just as real. That our connection was as deep as what I’d had when I was with Reid. I’d keep batting those swarming thoughts away because no matter what my subconscious was trying to tell me, I refused to let it interfere with my relationship any more than it already had.

Before I had a chance to climb inside the truck, I felt Beau’s arm wrap around my waist. He quickly turned me into his arms and his mouth found mine. The firm press of his lips was quickly interrupted by a sudden sweep of his tongue into my mouth. I drew my arms up around his neck and tried to kiss him back with as much enthusiasm as he was giving me. It was a bit unlike him. Most of our public displays of affection were limited to hand holding and the occasional peck, but I felt that I owed him a decent kiss after the awkward situation I’d put him back in the bar.

Seeing Reid again had to be on the short list of things Beau Gregurich probably never wanted to do. He’d never admitted it to me, but I knew that he secretly wished he had been the better rider. That he would have gotten the attention of the sponsors and team owners. And, not that he didn’t enjoy owning a race shop, but I could see the wistful look on his face when he talked about how he used to race with customers.

I had a history with Reid, and that was something that could never be taken away or erased. Just like Beau’s. Reid had every right to not like the fact that I’d chosen to be with Beau when he left, but he also had no say in the matter.

That was the thing about history—it was meant to stay in the past. Unfortunately, mine had shown up all shiny and sinfully tempting right here in the present.

Beau’s hold on me continued to tighten, and when I felt his hands start to get a little more forward, I broke our kiss.

“Easy there, buddy,” I teased.

“Can’t help myself,” he said without a trace of apology in his voice. His sudden urge to make-out in the middle of town was followed up with words of urgency. “I just want you to know how much I fucking want you.”

While it was nice to hear that I had some kind of intoxicating hold on my boyfriend, the out of character response from him had me a bit concerned. His lips found my neck as he continued to try and coax me into returning his newfound passion. I had an inkling that there was more to it than just my irresistibility to blame for Beau’s behavior.

“Does this sudden burst of passion have anything to do with seeing Reid?” I asked. He didn’t respond immediately and it took me placing my hands on his chest to get him to focus. “Beau?”

“You want me to lie and say that it didn’t feel good to stick it to him?” He smirked and the expression irritated me.

“Well no, but I also don’t want you kissing me just because you hope he sees us out here either. I’m not a prize you can flaunt in front of him.”

“But you are.” He smiled. “You’re the best prize. That asshole has always had a leg up on me, but I got the girl. I won you.” He pressed his lips to mine. I wanted to believe that he was being sincere and charming with his words, but I was starting to feel like his main reason for being with me was to “stick” it to Reid. “Nora,” Beau said, pulling me from my thoughts. “I know what you’re thinking and I’m not just with you to get back at him. I’m with you because you are beautiful and smart. He wasn’t even around when we started dating, so you know it’s not like that.”

“Do I?”

“Yes,” he promised. “You and I being together had nothing to do with him. It’s just an added bonus that it pisses him off.” He let out a light laugh and I had to admit, seeing how aggravated Reid was did bring me a little bit of joy. If that made me a jerk, then so be it. He’d gotten to be the jerk for far longer.

Maybe seeing Reid had put our relationship into perspective for Beau. It had certainly made things a little foggy for me but if Beau’s aggressive want for me had been sparked by feelings of jealousy or even nervousness at the return of my ex-boyfriend, I’d take it. Maybe we both needed a jolt in our relationship to get us to the next step. Whatever that may be.

While we seemed to have a comfortable relationship, my sister had made a valid point about me not being able to take the next step with him. Most of my friends were either living with, engaged, or married to their significant others, while we were just in some sort of limbo. What Beau and I had was simple and didn’t require me over thinking every single detail, but maybe I should have been. We’d never really had a sexually-charged, can’t-keep-our-hands-off-each-other kind of thing, but we could have.

“I’m sorry,” I said as his lips continued to travel up my neck. “I didn’t mean for things to be awkward in there.”

“It was bound to be a little bit awkward.” He leaned back, his arms still cinched around me. “But it is what it is.” He tilted his head and I immediately regretted even putting the thought in his head. Did he really believe what he was saying? Did he not even feel the slightest bit odd standing there with Reid and me? “Unless you’re having second thoughts or something?”

“No,” I assured him. If he didn’t think it was weird, then I wouldn’t either. This is exactly why I needed Beau in my life. Simplicity. “Not at all,” I added, trying to convince myself. “I just mean... it’s weird to see him, right?”

“Look, babe,” he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Both of us have a shitty history with Travers, yes... but it’s in the past. We all ended up exactly where we are supposed to be. He went after what he really wanted and I got you.”

His words made me wince and I hoped Beau didn’t notice. It still hurt to think that Reid wanted racing more than he wanted me. Even after all the effort I’d put into not letting it.

“You’re right,” I agreed, pushing my feelings aside. “The past.” The past, which I have apparently been holding onto a little more tightly than I realized. I needed to forget about what I had with Reid and focus on what I had with Beau.

“Besides that, it’s not like he’ll be here long. Winter’s coming and he can’t train in Halstead for his big, fancy career when the ground is going to be covered with snow.” He shut my door and the sudden reality of it all hit me.

Reid wouldn’t be around for very long. Three months. Any fleeting thoughts I was having about him had to be dashed. He’d be leaving and I’d be damned if I was going to let it affect me the same way it had last time. I’d keep my distance and keep my guard up. The man sitting next to me starting his truck was the man I was supposed to be with.

“My place or yours?” he asked, reaching over to grab my hand.

“Yours is good,” I smiled, knowing that deep down I was making the right call by leaving with Beau.

Reid had a way of clouding my judgment, and even if there was some merit to the feelings I was having about him, it wasn’t right. Beau drew my hand up to his mouth and pressed a chaste kiss across my knuckles reminding me why I was with him. He was sweet to me. He always had been. And, more importantly, he wanted to be with me for more than just a trip down memory lane. Reid may have said he’d thought about me over the past few years, but it didn’t change the fact that he hadn’t been around.

* * *

The rumble of dirt bike motors still made my pulse speed up and I wasn’t even the one racing them. Just being at the track made me feel like I was a part of it though. A part of the excitement. A part of the thrill. Sometimes I took pictures. Sometimes I just watched in awe of the athletes manipulating metal and rubber across the dirt. There was nothing sexier than a man on his bike, even all covered up with a helmet and riding gear. I knew the way his forearms flexed as he revved his bike and gripped the handles, and the way his thighs squeezed the bike tight as he took a turn.

I sighed and took in a deep breath trying not to look like I was about to go into heat. It wasn’t just any guy on a bike that did it for me either. One in particular was leading the pack on the final lap. Every other guy was trying to catch the one with TRAVERS on the back of his jersey.

I wanted to hate him. I wanted to leave that race and not care about watching him finish, but it felt like my feet were stuck in the mud. I was a slave to the race and rider. I always had been when it came to watching him. It was like watching someone do exactly what they were put on this earth to do. Reid Travers was made to ride motocross and I was made to be his number one fan. Even history couldn’t change that fact.

When the checkered flag flew and he took his victory lap—pulling off his goggles so he could stare out at the crowd—his piercing brown eyes found me and held onto me as he rode over to where I was standing.

“You came?” he said when he pulled of his helmet.

Not yet. The dirty thought that ran through my head resulted in my cheeks turning five shades of pink before settling on a deep red.

“I wanted to see you ride again,” I confessed. The crowd was starting to clear the stands and a few of the fans were nearing us. They’d want photos and autographs so I was sure our conversation was about to be over. “Good job.”

“Thanks, Shutterbug,” he said, that boyish charm he had that worked on me all those years ago, still ever present. The cheers and calls of his name were closing in on us. The faceless people that wanted to be near him. I understood the draw.

“Hop on,” he said as he slipped his hand through his helmet to pull it off and gave me a wicked grin. Without hesitation I did as I was told. All of the arguing from the night before had worn me down. I didn’t want to talk about the past anymore. I just wanted to ride on the back of his bike again. I wanted to wrap my arms around his body and feel the wind through my hair as he took me far away from the hordes of people that wanted a piece of him.

As he drove us toward the back of the track, back to the rows of trailers where the riders and their teams settled in for the weekend, everyone seemed to vanish. It was just us on his bike, the way it used to be. Back when we were happy and in love. Nostalgia got the best of me as I rose up on the seat and pressed my lips to the back of his neck—the salty taste of his sweat hitting all my senses as I flicked my tongue against his skin, instantly making me hum with desire.

I couldn’t hear his words as he raced the bike between two trailers and out of the way of prying eyes, but I heard him loud and clear when he shut the bike off. He took off his chest protector and gloves, and threw them on the ground.

“Come here,” he said, tugging my arm and the rest of me around his body until I was seated facing him. The bottoms of my thighs resting on the tops of his as I wrapped my legs around his body. I looped my arms around his neck to steady myself. “You put your lips on me,” he said with a smirk. “You just started something. You know that, right?”

“I know,” I acknowledged, wanting whatever it was he was going to do.

“My turn now,” he growled. I had a fleeting moment of protest before he crushed his mouth to mine and once again reminded me of exactly why I loved riding on his bike. He balanced us with his feet on the ground, but his hands had other plans. One pushed my hair to the side and settled on the back of my neck as the other tugged down the front of the white tank top I was wearing.

I cried out when he bit down on my bottom lip and pinched my nipple between his fingers.

“I knew you couldn’t resist me,” he said, dropping his mouth to my breast. “I knew that you’d come back to me.” His tongue lashed against my skin. “Fuck. I want you so bad.”

“I want you too,” I told him, leaning back on to the handlebars to give him better access to my body. The slow way he dragged his tongue between my breasts should have been a warning of what he was planning to do next. I didn’t care what he did as long as he kept on touching me. His rough fingertips grazed my skin as he unfastened my shorts, and again as he slipped his hand down the front of them.

“What do you want me to do, baby?” he asked, his fingers slicking through my folds and eliciting a moan mixed with a plea for release. “You want me to remind you how good I can make you feel? I know you love it when I touch you.”

“Yes,” I said, leaning forward to press my lips to his. I wanted him to touch me. To kiss me. Every move he was making with his hand was bringing me that much closer to the edge. He broke our kiss, leaning me back again to move his fingers deeper inside of me—hitting the spot that only he had ever been able to find. “Omigod!” I cried out, not being able to stay quiet a moment longer.

“You love this, don’t you?” his deep, raspy voice fueling my orgasm along with his mouth and hands. I loved every second of it. He was everything I’d ever wanted. “You want me to fuck you?”

“YES!” I screamed out as I felt my insides shatter around his hand. The only thing that would have felt better is if he’d been doing exactly what he’d just asked me if I wanted. The waves of euphoria rippled through my body and when I opened my eyes to look at him, to beg him to take it even further, he was gone.

“Are you all right?” Beau said when I sat up straight up in the bed. My reality was jumbled with my dreams as I turned to look at him. His sleepy eyes as confused as I felt. Had I really just had a sex dream about another man while I was sleeping in my boyfriend’s bed?

I was going to hell. I should probably throw all of my sweaters away.

“Yeah,” I said, swallowing down the dryness in my mouth. “I’m okay.”

“That was crazy,” he said, rubbing his hand down my back, trying to soothe me. “You were screaming out. I thought you were possessed.”

“I was? Screaming out what?” I said, nervously. What if I’d screamed Reid’s name? What if I’d said some of the things I’d dreamt? Oh god.

“Couldn’t understand a damn thing.” He chuckled. He wouldn’t have been laughing if he had any idea what had just happened in my filthy sleeping head.

Yeah. That’s what a real orgasm sounds like.

Yep... going to a special Hell for filthy dream cheaters.

“Was it a bad dream?” he said as I planned my afterlife.

I felt my skin flush hot beneath the surface. “Something like that.” I wasn’t sure what it was, and I wasn’t sure whether I wanted it to never happen again or happen every night for the rest of my life. “It was, um, confusing.”

To say the very least.

Talk about getting kicked in the balls. Seeing Nora with Beau’s arms wrapped around her made me want to vomit. And punch things. And break shit. As in, everything in damn sight.

Even the promise of bedding Tally hadn’t been enough to calm the rage I’d felt. I’d somehow managed to play it cool when he walked over to where we were in the midst of a very heated conversation. It had taken every ounce of self-control I had not to throw him across the bar. I bet he just loved groping her in front of me. He always wanted what was mine and now he probably thought he’d actually beat me.

Little did he know, my wheels were turning. Nora had tried to say that she hadn’t thought about me over the years, but judging by the way her body reacted to me and the jealous way she’d rift me about talking to Tally, she was lying. She wanted to play games and act like we were strangers, but after seeing how well she’d “moved on” I was having a change of heart. Making her see that I, that we, deserved a second chance seemed like a much better plan.

Even if I lost, at least I could say I tried with everything I had. Full throttle. That was how I was going down.

Much to Tally’s dismay, I ended up going home with Hoyt that night to an empty bed. I tossed and turned until the sun came up. Every time I closed my eyes I saw her kissing him. She should have been kissing me. That was my girl in his fucking arms. She could lie to me all she wanted, but I saw it in her eyes. She couldn’t lie to herself anymore.

Could she?

There had to be a way to make this right.

I’d been up early to meet the construction crew and worked with them most of the day, but I still couldn’t stop thinking about her. I jumped on my bike and hit the trails in the timber surrounding the cabin the second we were done working for the day. If I was going to clear my head, the best place to do it was on two wheels.

If I wanted Nora Bennett to give me a second chance I was going to have to make it happen. She was as stubborn as the day is long and unless she was pushed, she was never going to back down from thinking that her pretend-it-never-happened way of thinking was wrong. She couldn’t pretend that what we had was nothing any more than I could.

When I just couldn’t ride any more, I pulled out my phone. What were the odds that she still had the same phone number? It started to ring as soon as I pressed send and my stomach bottomed out as if I’d just jumped my bike over a hill. The sun was starting to sink down for the night and I was trying to think of something to say if she actually answered. It was pathetic. I knew it, but sitting around and wishing I could talk to her would have driven me even crazier. It was Saturday night and while I should have been gearing up to go out with my friends, like a normal, single, twenty-something, I was sitting on my bike trying to decide what I was going to say to a girl who had told me she didn’t want to talk to me.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Nora?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Really? You deleted my number from your phone?”

“Reid?” She sighed. Of course she’d deleted it. She’d been pretending I didn’t exist. “What do you want?” The agitation in her tone was clear.

“Just to talk.”

“We don’t have anything to talk about.”

“I can think of a few things.” I paused. “Maybe we start with why you’re dating Beau Gregurich.”

“I told you last night it’s none of your business.”

“Well, I want it to be my business. He’s a jerk and you know it. Always has been, always will be.”

“The only jerk is you. You can’t just call me up and expect me to share the last seven years of my life with you. You left.”

“Yeah, but I’m back. Whatever happened between us back then, I want to fix it. I want—”

“I don’t.”

“Too bad.” I told her. It might have been a little pushy, but I knew by the way she looked at me last night that there was unfinished business between us. I also knew the way to get through to Nora Bennett was not to pussyfoot around. She was strong willed to the core and didn’t do well being treated with kid gloves. When she didn’t immediately try and reason her way out of it or hang up on me, I continued. “Just talk to me. Please.”

“About what? There really is nothing for us to talk about. We’re different people now.”

“I’m not.”

“I am and there are things that I just cannot talk to you about.”

“You can tell me anything,” I argued, my curiosity had been piqued. We’d never kept anything from each other. Or at least that’s how it used to be.

“Please don’t call me again.”

“Nora, wait.” I said, trying one last time to get her to not hang up, but it was too late. I was talking to myself.

* * *

Monday morning rolled around and I staked out Hillcrest Realty. I saw Nora’s little gray boring ass car sitting in the parking lot—the same one she’d driven out to the property the first day I saw her. I’d only seen one other person enter the office—Mr. Hillcrest. One of them would have to go to lunch or out to run an errand at some point. Until then, I’d wait.

As I waited for her to either leave or be left alone, I wondered what happened to the girl that used to drive the Jeep. She had an old Jeep Wrangler that she took the top off of the second the weather permitted. The damn thing had been painted so many times that no one knew what color it was supposed to be. She said it was blue so that’s what we went with, even if I saw more green when I looked at it. We rode around in that thing—among other things—the entire summer she turned sixteen. Listening to some old Bon Jovi CD that was stuck in the dash player. It wasn’t my favorite music, but at the time it was all we had and she loved it.

Her then blonde hair flying freely around her as we cruised down the back country roads. Her suntanned skin in cutoffs and a tank top teasing me all day long. The smattering of freckles across her nose making her appear way more innocent than she was. I knew back then as soon as the sun was down and we could find a spot to park she’d be all over me. She’d climb into my lap and we’d be unbreakable until curfew. Then we would have sneaked out and met each other if we hadn’t gotten our fill of each other by midnight—which happened on more than one occasion. I missed that girl. That wild, carefree girl who wanted to be with me. And, I missed the guy that I was then. The one who would have broken all the rules to get one more kiss. To get one more light touch to her smooth skin. To get one more good night, not good bye. I wanted those people back. To hell with the girl who wanted to hate me and the guy who pretended like he didn’t want her more than anything.

I walked down the block to the little coffee shop on the corner. If I was going to be on a stake out I needed the correct supplies—a small black coffee and a couple of donuts. As I was walking back, I saw Mr. Hillcrest leaving the office and felt the smile spread across my face. I finished my donut in two bites and made my way down the street. I’d picked up a chocolate Long John for Nora—remembering it was her favorite. Maybe I could persuade her to talk to me with a deep fried, frosted piece of dough.

Just as Mr. Hillcrest was pulling away, I opened the door to their office and walked in, a little bell dinged as I entered and I heard her call out from the back office.

“I’ll be right with you,” her voice said sweetly. Her professional tone was much different than the pissed off one she’d been using with me. I reveled in the moment of her not knowing it was me and pretended for just a second that she didn’t hate me. The tiny waiting room was littered with racks of brochures and a couple of empty chairs. I thought about taking a seat and putting on a show that I was actually a customer, but the draw to her was too much. I walked around the small partition separating the lobby from the offices and followed the sweet smell of her perfume back to her office. I sat my coffee down on a small table in the hallway and checked my reflection in the mirror. I ran a hand through my hair and took a breath. She was going to listen to me whether she wanted to or not. I’d pulled on a red t-shirt that morning, remembering how she always said she’d liked me in that color. The word Extreme was printed across my chest in distressed letters. Fitting, considering that extreme is exactly what I was prepared to be if it meant winning her back. If my charm and good looks didn’t get to her, I’d work the memory lane angle. I settled in the door frame to watch her busily typing away on her computer.

Her office was cozy—a desk, a small bookcase, and two chairs. The bookcase holding a few framed pictures. One of her family, her and her sister, and one of her with Beau that had me rolling my eyes. Behind where she was sitting was a cork board with a few listing fliers and a few random notes pinned to it. In the corner I saw something I hadn’t been expecting. A first place ribbon from the very first race she’d ever went to with me. She’d been so nervous, chewing her nails and pacing the pits as we waited for the race to start. I gave her a kiss and told her to calm down before heading to the starting line. I’d told her that day that she was my good luck charm and I’d meant it. I won that race because I wanted to impress her. Just like every other one she went to with me.

Didn’t think about me, my ass.

She clearly had some loyalty to our memories if she’d kept it all these years.

She reached over, clicked her mouse, and started to stand up when she realized I was watching her.

“Jesus Christ, Reid,” she huffed, steadying herself with her hands on her desk. The bent over position she was in had a few naughty thoughts running through my head. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry.” I laughed. Proving I wasn’t sorry at all. The old Nora used to get a kick out of sneaking up on someone, and vice versa. Judging by the look on her face she’d outgrown the somewhat childish game.

“What are you doing here?” she said, straightening up to cross her arms over chest. The way she was trying to relay that she was unimpressed with my sudden appearance was doing nothing but pushing her tits up in the fitted navy dress she was wearing. It clung to her chest and cinched her waist to almost nothing before flaring out around her hips. The hemline hit her mid-thigh and all I could think about was how fantastic her legs look. Even more, how fantastic they would look wrapped around my waist when I finally convinced her to be with me.

“You know, as much as I miss you in a pair of shorts, these little outfits you wear for work are really working for you. I’m digging it.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked again, trying to act like my compliment hadn’t flustered her. The blush in her cheeks said otherwise. “Or are you here to discuss my fashion choices?” She brushed her hands down the front of her dress before placing them on her hips.

“Not your fashion choices, sweetheart,” I assured her as I walked around her office, non-nonchalantly checking the place out. “Maybe your taste in boyfriends, but definitely not what you’re wearing.”

“Neither of which I feel like discussing with you. Unless you want to talk about my mistake of dating you?”

“Not a mistake,” I told her, walking over to rest against the edge of her desk. “But fine. No talk of current asshole boyfriends.”

“What’s in the bag?” Her curiosity had her checking out more than just me.

“Peace offering.” I held up the bag so she could see the logo. “I shouldn’t have called you the other night.”

“Chocolate Long John?”

“Of course.” I smiled.

“You remembered.” She smiled back.

“I remember everything about you.” I promised, handing her the bag. She took it and sat it down on her desk. It felt to me like she was fighting a battle to not say something. The obvious tension in her face had me thinking on the fly to put her at ease. I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable or nervous around me. I wanted her to remember how easy it was to be with me. I grabbed the butterfly paperweight sitting on the corner and tossed it up before catching it. “Gift from your mom?”

“How’d you know?”

“Looks like something Becky would pick out.” I chuckled. “How is she?”

“Good,” she said shortly.

“And your dad? Still trying to bag that sixteen point buck he swears he saw on Mitchell’s property?”

“You could always go visit them if you wanted to know. Then you wouldn’t have to come into my office and bother me.”

“Nah. I think I’d rather bother you.”

“What do you want from me, Reid?”

“I want you to admit that dating Beau is a terrible idea.”

“I thought you said... never mind,” she huffed. “Guess we will talk about it. It’s not a terrible idea. It’s my idea and I, unlike you, can live with the choices I’ve made.”

“Can you?” I paused, reaching out to brush my fingers down her arm. The trail of goosebumps that appeared had me curious as to if I could make them appear all over her body. “I can tell you from personal experience that some choices are impossible to live with.”