“Okay, so why the face?” She used one finger to draw a circle around my head.
“I don’t know!” I said, causing a woman walking by us to give me the eye.
Megan studied me for a moment before grabbing my arm and leading me out of the store.
“Where are we going?”
“Well, I would say we need drinks for this conversation, but since neither of us is of age, caffeine is about the next best thing.” She marched me a few stores down to a Barnes and Noble that had a Starbucks attached and directed me to sit while she ordered. I sat and waited, my fingers tapping on the table. Hunter was rubbing off on me.
She came back with two caramel macchiatos and shoved one in front of me.
“Drink. Talk.”
I wrapped my fingers around the cup and sighed.
“I want to get married. I do. But I’m scared of it at the same time, you know?” She took a sip from her cup and nodded.
“I know exactly what you mean. We’re young and basically deciding to take this huge leap of faith with another person. It’s just about the scariest thing you can ever do.” See? She got it. I was so relieved.
“But he doesn’t seem to understand why I’m having reservations. He’s all or nothing and I’m not like that. It scares me that I’m going to sabotage the best thing that’s ever happened to me, but what if I go in with both feet and something happens? I can’t even think about that.” Losing him was something I couldn’t begin to contemplate. No way. Hard pass.
Megan shrugged.
“There are no guarantees in life. Hell, you could get hit by a car walking down the street. Anything can happen. What you need to decide is if the risk is worth the payoff. I decided that Jake was worth the risk. Even if something happened, I still wouldn’t trade a moment I’ve spent with him for having a life without him in it. The worst days with him are better than the days I had without him.” I knew exactly what she meant, but she seemed so sure. So confident. I didn’t have that. My parents’ marriage hadn’t gone well. My sister flitted from one relationship to another. I just didn’t have enough relationship role models. Other than my friends, but they hadn’t gotten through the long haul yet.
But neither did Hunter. His father had killed his mother and then himself. That was enough to put anyone off relationships for the rest of their life. He was stronger than me, bottom line.
“I just don’t know,” I said, dropping my head into my hands. Megan rubbed my shoulder.
“You’ll figure it out. I have complete faith in you. And whenever you doubt yourself, just remind yourself that that boy loves you more than anything on this planet.” That was true. I did know that.
“Thanks,” I said, wiping my eyes. They’d gotten a little damp. I took a breath and put on a smile.
“Now that that’s over, have you picked your wedding colors?” Her face lit up and I was more than happy to talk about someone else’s wedding rather than my own.
My girl had a tendency to… get excited about things. Sometimes overly excited. That was the nice way of saying that she freaked out a lot. I’d gotten totally used to it, but I’d kind of hoped that once we were engaged and I’d proved that I wanted to wife the hell out of her, that she would be ready to make the actual commitment.
But every time I brought up anything related to weddings or marriage or anything like that, she got this look of terror in her eyes and tried to change the subject as quickly as possible. I told her it was fine. I was totally fine with it.
Only I wasn’t fine. I wasn’t fine, and when I woke up in the middle of the night, with her wrapped around me like she couldn’t stand to be apart from me even in sleep, I would wonder why.
Did she not want to marry me? I’d asked her so many times to reassure my ego, but still. There was that voice in the back of my mind. The one that told me she was too good to be true. That I wouldn’t be allowed this happiness. I’d had so much else taken away from me, so why would I get to keep this?
I’d wrap my arms around her and she would sigh and I would try to believe. Try to believe that we could last. That our love would conquer all and all that bullshit.
I tried and I succeeded most of the time. But there were moments when I wanted to throw her in the car and take her down to the courthouse whether she liked it or not.
There was drama at the house on Monday and it just kept getting worse. First, the sink in the kitchen was having issues, I needed to clean the gutters ASAP, Renee was in a mood, Mase was stressed with a big project and I was pretty sure all the women were cycling together.
Add regular class stress and my stress about marriage, and I was ready to snap. That night, I shoved everyone out of the kitchen and cooked a three-course dinner. I hadn’t had a whole lot of time for cooking lately, and it calmed me. I had definitely used my skills early on to impress Taylor, but I’d gotten rusty. Fortunately, this kitchen was big enough for me to go nuts and have counter space to spare.
“What brought this on?” Taylor said, coming up behind me and resting her head against my spine, arms around my waist. I turned and tucked my arm around her shoulders.
“Just felt like I needed to take a breather. From life.” She sighed.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Sometimes I wish I could just lie in bed and read for a month and not have to deal with anything. No homework, no bills, no parent issues. Sorry.” It wasn’t her fault that my father (I hated that I shared DNA with that monster) had shot my mother and then shot himself. It wasn’t her fault that I’d been raised by my aunt and uncle.
“I know, Missy. I know.” I kissed the top of her head. “But let’s talk about something else, huh?”
“Sure,” she said, raising her face to smile at me. Knocked me out.
“Your ass looks really great in those jeans,” I said and then braced for the smack in the chest that came my way.
“I don’t know why I put up with you,” she said, but she didn’t let go of me.
“Because you love me.”
She pressed a kiss to my mouth. “Oh, right, there’s that.”
I’d been thinking a lot about my mother lately. Not that I didn’t think of her at least a hundred times a day, but memories hit me with increasing frequency. That night I awoke, swearing that I could smell her fried green tomatoes and pecan pie. She was the one who taught me to cook. To bake. Every time I did, I remembered how she would let me stand on a stool next to her, peering around her elbow as she stirred whatever magical concoction she was making. I used to think that. That it was magic. Sometimes I still do.
Taylor makes me think of her too. How much she would have adored Taylor. How similar they are. How they would have teamed up and made jokes at my expense, but I would have loved every minute of it.
I didn’t realize I was crying until the tears dropped onto Taylor’s hair. I sighed and wiped my eyes with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around her.
It had been years, but the knife was still there. It still cut as deep and hurt as much as the day I’d found out what my father was truly capable of. You never got over grief. You just learned how to live around it.
Hunter had been—introspective?—the past few days. Not that he wasn’t always a deep thinker, but I’d catch him staring off into space as if he was pondering something intensely. I asked him about it, but he brushed me off.
A week of that and I ended up tackling him when we went to bed, pinning him under me.
“Oh, are you gonna be on top tonight?” he said, his fingers digging into my hips and making me forget, for a second, why I had done this in the first place.
“Mmm, sounds good. But not until we talk. And you tell me what’s been on your mind.” He growled and the sound hit me right between my legs. He accompanied that with a roll of his hips that had me whimpering.
“Nice try,” I said, panting a little. “But I want to talk.”
His eyes seared into me as he started to sit up, his arms going around my back so I was in his lap and our faces were only
inches apart.
“Are you sure you want to talk, Missy?” His hands inched around until they were cupping my boobs and his thumbs brushed over my nipples. I was only wearing a thin tank top and the contact went right to my core.
Damn him.
“Hunter!” I said, smacking his hands away.
“Okay, okay, fine,” he said. “What do you want to talk about.” It wasn’t a question.
I sighed. Sometimes I wanted to strangle him.
“I want to talk about why you’ve been distant this week. Something is up and I demand to know what it is.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest because his eyes had drifted back down to my nipples.
“What if I don’t want to talk?” he asked.
“Well, then this is off limits.” I used my hands to gesture to my body and tried to get up off him. His hands clamped on my hips and I couldn’t go anywhere.
“Don’t go, Taylor.” The use of my real name made me freeze.
“Then talk to me. Please just talk to me,” I said, putting my hand on his chest, right above his heart. It pounded against my hand. He was nervous and trying to play it off. But I knew him. His fingers were tapping against my left hip.
One, two, three, four, five.
I loved his little quirks.
“I don’t know, Taylor,” he said, rubbing the number seven tattooed on his arm. Another quirk. “I’ve just been thinking about my mom a lot lately.”
He’d gotten much better about being open with me (we both had), but I knew this was still hard for him to talk about and it always would be. It broke my heart every time his voice cracked when he spoke about her.
“Yeah, what about her?” I said, keeping my voice soft. I didn’t want to spook him and then have him shut down on me, or flip me over and fuck me to shut me up. Not that I didn’t mind it when he did that, but this was important. I couldn’t say why, but I knew it was.
“Just… I don’t know. Wishing she was here. Wishing she had met you. Just a lot of regrets and wishes that will never come true.” The sad little smile he gave me was enough to make my heart break even further. Oh, Hunter.
“I love you so much,” I said, cupping his face and kissing his lips. “I love you so much and if I could take this pain from you, I would.” I tried not to cry, but the tears happened anyway.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said. Now he was the one comforting me.
“I’m okay. I’m fine,” I pulled back and sniffed.
“You don’t have to carry my pain for me, Missy Girl. And you shouldn’t feel guilty about my past. I don’t want you tainted with it.” Taking both my hands, he opened them and then kissed each of my palms. I didn’t know I could love him any more, and then it suddenly happened. It swelled and grew every day.
We’d both been through a lot, which was probably one of the reasons we understood each other so well. But still, sometimes I felt like he went to a place where I couldn’t reach him.
“You can talk to me. About it, about her. About anything. I just wanted you to know that. I love you and I’m here for you too.” This time his smile was genuine and I let him slip my tank top over my head and roll me over on the mattress.
My dad left a message on my phone the next day, but I ignored it. I just didn’t feel like dealing with him right now. Not on top of everything else. I could only do so much.
Renee, Darah, Jos and I decided we needed a girls’ day, so we ditched the boys to do their thing and headed to the Bangor mall. I’d been so busy between homework, classes, working at the library and training at the crisis center, I’d barely had time to breathe.
“Why, I don’t understand why this is happening,” Jos whined as we dragged her from the car. She hated shopping, but we had agreed to go to Bull Moose, the music store, for her later, so she’d agreed.
“Just suck it up, buttercup,” Renee said, putting her arm around Jos. At first glance, you wouldn’t think they were sisters, but if you looked closer, you could see the resemblance. Plus, when they fought, you could definitely tell. They had the same acid tongue.
“Oh, bite me,” Jos mumbled and then shrieked as Renee clamped onto her shoulder.
“Can we have one peaceful afternoon?” Darah asked, walking ahead of them. “That’s all I’m asking for.” Jos rolled her eyes and Renee scowled.
“Okay, then,” I said, taking Darah’s arm. “Where to first?”
Everyone yelled out something different.
“Maybe we should split up?” I suggested.
“No, that defeats the entire purpose of us hanging out together,” Darah said. She was a huge fan of plans and rules and knowing what the hell was happening way ahead of time.
“Let’s make a list of where we need to go and we’ll make sure we hit them all,” she said, pulling out her phone. I shared a smile with Renee. Oh, Darah and her lists.
An hour later we were leaving the lingerie store with a grumbling and red-faced Jos and several bags that were going to make the men at home very happy.
“You should have gotten that cute little cotton set,” I said to her, but she shook her head.
“No way. I don’t want to raise expectations.” Her relationship with Dusty was still in the beginning stages, and I couldn’t blame her.
“Although, it doesn’t matter what underwear I have on, he seems to react the same way each time,” she whispered to me so Renee couldn’t hear. Her older sister took her job of protecting Jos a little too seriously.
“I’m not surprised at all,” I whispered back. Dusty was absolutely head over ass for her. Wouldn’t be surprised if he popped the question soon, even though they hadn’t even been dating for a year. They’d probably make it down the aisle before me and Hunter.
“Hey,” Jos said, pinching my arm. “You were a little lost there.” We’d meandered our way down to a tacky jewelry shop where Renee and Darah were trying on tiaras and gaudy clip on earrings.
“Yeah, just thinking about things.”
“And stuff?” She asked with a smirk.
“Nope, just things.” She rolled her eyes and tugged me to the back of the store where they had some feather boas. That took my mind off things for a while and by the time we headed to dinner, I was feeling much better.
Since the drinks were expensive and there were several bottles of cheap wine back at home that were calling our names and we got our dessert to go.
“Oh my God, I’m so full. Just roll me to the car,” Renee groaned, leaning on Darah’s shoulder.
I drove us back to Yellowfield House and we walked in on the guys having an epic breakdance battle with Dusty beatboxing as the music.
They didn’t notice us because Mase and Hunter were trading off moves and Paul was egging them on. It was nice to have someone who was a little less-intense, personality wise. Balanced out the rest of them. And he balanced out Renee perfectly.
“What a bunch of dorks,” Renee said, but she had a smile on her face.
“But we love them,” Darah said with a sigh.
“Yes, we do,” I said. Hunter was beaming and I loved it. He’d been having a hard time letting go recently and I wasn’t sure what to do about it. But I had to do something.
The next day was Chore Day (with Captain Darah at the helm) so I didn’t have much time to ponder what to do about Hunter. I also had a crapton of homework, so as soon as the house was clean up to Darah’s standards, we spread out and got down to business.
I had a bunch of papers due that were going to require massive amounts of research and it made my head ache just thinking about them. Didn’t help that Renee wouldn’t stop passing around one of her nursing textbooks full of graphic pictures of diseases.
“If you put that in my face again, Ne, I swear to God, I will throw up and aim it toward you.” She just stuck her tongue out at me and went back to her seat on the couch.
“Well, excuse me for trying to educate you.” She huffed and puffed but got back to reading a few minutes later. She was capable of the most am
azing concentration when necessary. Probably one of the reasons that she was near the top of her class.
Before I knew it, Hunter was carrying me to bed. I’d fallen asleep on the keyboard of my laptop.
“You have the outlines of the keys on your cheek,” he said, chuckling as I sleepily scowled at him.
“Whatever, you love me.”
“I do. I absolutely do.”
He tucked me in bed and I fell asleep, but woke what felt like ten seconds later. I turned and found Hunter’s face all crunched up in a frown. A few minutes later, he started thrashing. I shook his shoulder to wake him up before it got bad.
His nightmares had been terrifying when he’d first moved in with me. Somehow knowing now that they were about seeing his mother get shot made them even more awful.
“Hunter, Hunter, wake up,” I said and his eyes popped open as he gasped. It took him a second to realize he’d been sleeping.
“Oh, fuck,” he said, grabbing me up in a tight hug. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” I said rubbing his sweat soaked back. When his breathing finally slowed, I kissed the top of his head and went to get out some fresh sheets. I made the bed by rolling him over as he stared at the ceiling.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice robotic.
“It’s not a big deal, Hunter. I just wish I could do something so you never had to have them again.” I climbed back in bed and pulled the covers over both of us. He was naked, of course, and shivering a little.
“I know, Miss. I know.” He pulled me into his chest and clutched me fiercely, as if he was afraid I would be ripped out of his arms.
Something had to be done. It was time to call in reinforcements.
Our Favorite Days Page 3
