by Tucker, RH
“Maybe you’re right. But I wouldn’t even know how to bring it up to him now. I mean, he was right, you know? He put it all out there and those things he did were so great. How would I even come back and try to meet that? I can’t be all, ‘Hey, I know I rejected you time after time, but I think I want to try this thing between us now’. I’d feel like such an idiot.”
She giggles. “Jen, don’t overthink it. Just be honest with him. Let him know he’s the one that has a key to that lock around your heart. And believe me, it’s not that I don’t like Lucas, but the last thing I did say to him was I called him an asshole, so that’s sort of saying a lot.”
“When did you become the guru in our friendship, dolling out advice?”
“What can I say, I’m getting the hang of this relationship stuff.”
I let out a chuckle and suddenly her words trigger a memory. “Holy crap. What’d you say?”
“What? I told you what I called him after that stunt he pulled.”
“No, not that,” I say, almost absentmindedly. “The key thing. I just remembered something, something him and I talked about when we were younger. I just had an idea.”
“What kind of idea?”
Chapter 33
Lucas
Sitting at a little Italian restaurant in Corona del Mar, I’ve barely touched my food. We brought our parents out for an anniversary dinner and Rich had the bright idea to invite Nancy and Jen. I shouldn’t be upset, because Nancy and our mom have been friends ever since she moved next door. And it’s not like he did it to try and get a rise out of me, because he also invited Bobby and Olivia, another couple our parents are friends with. But I still feel super awkward, not having a clue what to say to Jen since apologizing to her while she was working.
Other than that, the night seems to be going fine. The restaurant is beach side and it’s got a great view, overlooking the ocean. And my parents are enjoying themselves and the company. Actually, everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, even Jen. She’s chatted a little with my mom and looked at me a couple times, but I have no idea what’s left to say. I don’t want to be stupid and I don’t want to upset her, so I just keep my mouth shut.
After using the restroom, I head back to our seats, where everyone’s getting up from the table. “What’s going on?”
“Bobby and Olivia invited everyone back to their house to hang out for a little while,” Rich answers.
“Oh, okay.” I nod and scan the crowd as they make their way out of the restaurant. “You know, I think I’m just gonna hang out on the beach for a little bit.”
“Really?” My dad looks over at me.
“Yeah, Jackson said he wanted to maybe do something later tonight,” I lie. “He hit me up a little bit ago.”
Rich gives me a look like he knows I’m lying. Surprisingly, so does Jen, while my mom just offers a frown.
“Aw, well okay,” she says, giving me a hug. “Thank you for the lovely dinner.”
“You’re welcome.” I hug her back.
We all leave, and I separate from them, walking along the side of the building as the rest of them head to the parking lot.
Me: What are you doing?
I text Jackson. I should at least see what he’s up to, so I don’t feel too guilty about the lie.
Jackson: Dude, my lif sux! U knwo wat inevntyr is?
Me: Inventory?
My phone rings.
“So, apparently,” Jackson starts as soon as I answer, “once a month we have to count all kinds of crap in the store, to make sure we’re not wasting product, things aren’t getting stolen, and stuff like that.”
“That sucks,” I say with a laugh.
“It does! I’ve already counted a hundred bags of chips! Oh, and don’t get me started on all the cups, paper wrapping boxes, and other crap.” His voice gets higher, and I can hear the irritation. “And my pops wants me to go over accounting stuff with him. Just so I can see how it’s done,” his voice deepens with the last words, imitating his dad.
“So, I take it you can’t hit up Corona del Mar then?”
“You suck, you now that?”
I laugh. “All right, later, man.”
“Yeah, later.”
I hang up and kick off my shoes and socks. Something about the ocean water hitting my feet, the rhythmic feeling of the waves rolling in and out, has always had a comforting effect. As I tie the shoe laces together to carry them, I hear Jen behind me.
“So,” she says. I turn around and see her giving me a small smile. “Did you just call him right now to fill out your little fib?”
“What makes you think I was fibbing?” I say, peaking an eyebrow.
“I know when you lie. I didn’t, but Rich told me one time.”
I give her a crooked smile. “Oh, really?”
“Yes, really. You do this thing where you bite your upper lip for a second, then you cover it with your bottom lip.”
“What?”
“Like this,” she reenacts my supposed tell and now I’m staring at her lips. I let out a deep breath, immediately regretting it.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, as I turn around to gaze out over the water.
“You seemed quiet tonight.”
I lift my shoulders. “There’s not much else to say, is there? I just don’t―” I stop my words, not wanting to say anymore and cause anymore issues.
“You don’t what?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head and start walking along the wet sand.
“Luc, you can still talk to me,” she says, following me.
“Yeah, maybe. One day. Right now, I feel like everything I say is wrong.”
“Is that what you were going to say? You don’t want to say the wrong thing?”
I nod.
She smiles. “You’re lying.”
I cringe with a smirk, catching my tell.
“You don’t want to what?”
“Hurt you.” I stop to look at her. “I don’t want to say the wrong thing and hurt you. I feel like that’s all I’ve been doing. I’ve been pushing this thing, and I don’t want to make it any more awkward than it already is.”
Her smile drops, and she watches the waves rolling in. “Hold me,” she whispers, and I’m taken aback, not sure I’ve heard her correctly. She looks up at me, her eyes meeting mine. “Please?”
Dropping my shoes, I wrap my arms around her. She lays her head on my shoulder, her arms wrapped around my waist.
“I haven’t been fair to you.”
“Jen, no. Like I said, I’m the one who kept pushing.”
“Yeah, but you only did it because you love me.” She pulls her head back to look up at me. “You do still love me, right?”
A small chuckle surprises me as I let it go. “I’ll always love you. I don’t think there’s anything that will change that.”
She stares back up at me, and for a split-second I think she might say it back. For a brief instant, I think she’s finally mine, but she just nods and lays her head down back on my shoulder.
“And that’s why I haven’t been fair to you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been comparing your love to someone else’s. Someone I thought I knew. Someone who’s dead and ever since I found that out, I’ve learned so much more about her than I thought I would.”
“What are you talking about?”
“My mom,” she answers, meeting my eyes again. “She’s dead. Nancy took me to her gravesite.”
“Oh my God. Jen, I’m sorry.”
She’s quiet, keeping her arms wrapped around me. My heart is racing, and I wonder if she can hear or feel it. My brain is everywhere, wondering why she’s telling me this, wondering what I can do to help her through whatever she’s feeling, or if she even wants me to.
After several long minutes that feels like time stands still, she speaks again. “I always thought she never loved me. Actually,” she pauses, and I hear her let out a sniffle, “I never told anyone this, b
ut there was a brief moment in time when I thought she hated me. That she couldn’t stand that I was her daughter and that’s why she left me with Nancy.”
I pull back, bringing my face to hers. “Don’t ever think that. Please. No matter what she did, she could never hate you.”
I’m surprised when she lets out a soft laugh through her tears. “You didn’t even know her.”
“Yeah, but she made you. If nothing else, that’s enough. There’s no way she could’ve hated you after looking into those gorgeous eyes. Or hearing that incredible laugh.” As if on cue, she laughs, wiping away tears. “See?”
“I know she didn’t hate me, at least, now I know. And now I know she still loved me, too. She just made a horrible choice. And that’s the part I’m still working on trying to forgive her.” She pulls away and takes my hands in hers. “Look at me, I had a plan when I came out here, but all this other stuff just started gushing out.”
“It’s okay,” I reply, raising a hand to her check, wiping a tear away. “You can gush to me all you want. As much as you need to.”
“Seriously, Luc, how’d you get so perfect?”
Now it’s my turn to laugh, as I shake my head. “Ha, I’m not perfect. I think I’ve proven that.”
“Maybe not.” She looks down at our hands locked together. “But you’re perfect for me.”
Her words leave me speechless. Perfect for her? Is she saying what I think she’s saying?
She lets go of my hand and reaches into her pocket. “You remember Leprechauns and Unicorns?”
I give her a quizzical look, knowing what she’s talking about, but unsure where she’s going. “Yeah?”
She holds up a silver key, hanging from a chain. There’s a small smile on her lips. “What were we in, fourth grade?”
“Fifth.”
She smiles and stares at the key. “Right. And you said you’d find me a magical key one day. A key that would take us anyplace in the world.”
“A key would unlock all doors and gates until we found lost treasures.”
She laughs, still holding the key. “And I said, ‘it wouldn’t be that magical if all it found were treasures. Because what happens when we find them all? There can only be so many’.”
Now I laugh. “So, I said, ‘fine, a key that will unlock everything we want until we find leprechauns and unicorns’.”
She raises the key to me and then turns her wrist, so I see her tattoo. “And do you remember what I told you about this?”
My laughter stifles. I nod and come crashing back down to reality. I thought that she was telling me that we have a chance. That there’s a possibility for us. But I’m wrong. Because I remember exactly what she said about her tattoo.
“What?”
“Jen,” I say quietly, averting my eyes.
“Do you remember, Luc?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“What?”
My head snaps up, my eyes burrowing into hers. “You said you’d never open it up again, okay?” I don’t mean to, but I snap. Because now I’m feel like I’m being tormented all over again.
She closes the gap between us, grabbing my hand. “But I never said it couldn’t be opened.” I knit my brows together, staring at her, as she puts the key in my hand. “I thought of leprechauns and unicorns and those are just make believe. But my heart, Luc? That’s real. And I honestly don’t know if I could ever open it up again on my own. But this key,” she whispers, closing my fingers around the key with her hand, “this key is yours. Because you’ve always had the key to my heart, Lucas. Even when I didn’t want you to because I was so terrified of what might happen. But I can’t deny that you have direct access to my heart. You always have.”
I’m trying to digest everything. I stare at the silver key, which shines in the moonlight over the beach. Along the top there’s a date engraved. I rack my brain, trying to think of what it might be. It’s about five years after the year we were born, so it can’t be either of our birthdays. I flip the key around and show her the engraving.
“It’s the day we moved next door to you,” she says. “I told you, I loved you since I saw you. I know I’ve rejected you after you tried and put it all out there and I’m sorry. And I know because of all that, I might have messed this thing up already, but I at least had to do this. I had to let you know. Because I don’t want to think about what could go wrong anymore. I want to think about what could go right.”
She stares at me and I want to kiss her, but I’m frozen. I can’t believe this is real.
She looks down, let’s go of my hand, and gives an apologetic nod. “So, I guess that’s it.”
She turns around and takes one step before all rational thought finally comes back to me. Before she can take a second step, I grab her wrist and turn her around, her hands meeting my chest. I hold her face in my hands and bring my lips to hers, instantly feeling the rush of her kiss. Her hands slide around me, and she brings me closer, as our lips stay connected. There aren’t any buzzed feelings, no tears, and not even a rush like I felt at the lake. The only thing I feel is complete. Whole.
I break away slightly, resting my forehead against hers, my eyes closed. “I just want to think about what could go right, too.”
I open my eyes and she’s smiling. “You’re not scared?”
I grin, running a thumb over her bottom lip. “The only thing I’m scared about is just how much I love you and whether it will ever be enough.”
She brings a hand to my cheek. “If you keep saying things like that, I think it will be. And if you always kiss me like you just did.”
“Always.”
Through the Layers
Rumor Has It, Book 4
Chapter 1
Micah
What’s the saying? ‘Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, I’m a complete and utter moron’? I know that’s not it, but it might as well be. I hear them inside. I know it’s her because her two roommates have class right now.
I’m not devastated. Not like I was a year ago when we only had a few months until we graduated high school. Everyone says high school sweethearts never last, but I know they do. My parents are high school sweethearts. So I know it’s more than possible. Just like I know following your dreams isn’t a lost cause because that’s what my dad did. He got the girl he wanted, the family he wanted, even the dream job he always wanted. Impossible dreams can come true. But right now I couldn’t give a shit about any of that.
It’s her birthday today. So here I am, standing outside of her apartment, a bouquet of her favorite flowers—daffodils—because I thought I’d surprise her. I guess the surprise is on me. To be fair, I shouldn’t be surprised at all.
I think about calling her, seeing what her response will be if I say I want to stop by. Would she even answer the phone? Then I think about just gently knocking, acting like I didn’t hear anything yet, trying to stay calm. But I don’t do either of those things. Instead, I slam my fist into the door, striking it as hard as I can. The noise inside stops.
I wait patiently, wondering if she’s going to answer. First I hear whispers, then the door unlocks, barely opening. Her eyes widen for a split-second. She tries to cover it up, placing her hand over her mouth like she’s yawning.
“Micah? Wh-what are you doing here?”
I let out an incredulous chuckle. “Wow, really?”
“What?”
“Lana, it’s your birthday.”
She bites her bottom lip. That used to be a turn on. “I know that. You should’ve called.”
“Yeah, but I wanted to surprise you.” I lift the bouquet up to her. “But it sounds like you already got your birthday surprise today.”
“What are you—”
I press on the door. She tries to block it from opening, so I push hard enough that she has to take a step back. The door swings open and I see a guy who has his shirt halfway on. He stares at me like a deer caught in headlights.
“Don’t worry, bro, I’m not staying
,” I say, glaring at him before returning my attention to Lana. “You two can finish up your little birthday treat. Have a nice life.” I throw the flowers in her face, before turning around and walking down the stairs.
“Micah! No, wait, Micah!”
Like I said, I’m not devastated. I caught her cheating before. Now, I’m just pissed off. And as furious as I am at her, I’m even angrier at myself. How could I be so stupid? What did Taylor tell me when I said we were getting back together? Once a cheater, always a cheater? I know when he finds out he won’t laugh in my face, but he might as well. And while he’s at it, he can scream at the top of his lungs, ‘I told you so’ because he did.
“Please, Micah. Please, wait. Don’t leave.”
She grabs my arm as I make it to the bottom of the stairs. I pull it away from her, so she gets in front of me.
Lana’s gorgeous. Just a little shorter than me, she always liked that I was six-two. She said being five-ten meant she was a giant for a girl. Her hair, platinum blonde, always seems to shimmer in the sun. But it just pisses me off right now because it’s messy. That dickhead was probably running his hands through it. She’s fair skinned with full, pink lips, which she always used to her advantage. Yeah, she’s gorgeous. Not my type, something my friends always reminded me of back in high school, but she’s absolutely stunning.
She brings her hands up to my face, stepping closer. “No, please. Please, don’t go. I’m sorry. I screwed up. I’m so, so sorry.”
Her eyes start watering, and the tears fall. She begged and pleaded the summer after we graduated. She cried her eyes out. And I believed her. She told me it was a mistake when I caught her with some guy. That she was drunk and high. At the beginning of our first semester, she was still pleading with me. She’d call me every day. Sent text messages. And even though I believed her, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to get back with her. As much as I wanted to emulate my parents—my father—I couldn’t get the sight of catching her with some guy out of my head.
