My mother could talk the talk, but I couldn’t count on her to keep her word. Not even from one day to the next.
I didn’t allow myself to think about what it would mean for her to get those shots. I would be able to count on thirty days of stability. Then I could take her for the next shot myself. No more counting pills and looking for pharmacy records. I could rely on the shots to keep us off the rickety roller coaster of my mother’s illness.
Pushing away the thought, I opened a second can of sealant and continued to apply it to the wood. I couldn’t risk daydreaming. It hurt too badly when the reality crashed through.
My phone rang with Nat’s ringtone. I switched the brush to my left hand and pulled my phone out of my pocket. “What’s up, Nat?”
“Mom picked me up from school.”
“That’s good to know.”
“She had a surprise. I’m going to text it to you.”
“Okay.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.” I hit end. A surprise. Surely the woman hadn’t gone on a shopping spree already.
The phone pinged with the text message and I opened the text. Nat had sent me a photo of a medical billing slip. It had my mother’s name, today’s date, and indicated that they had administered an injection of a medicine I could neither pronounce nor spell. She’d actually kept her word.
The paint brush fell from my grip and landed on my boot.
I had no idea how to process this information. It had been so long since there had been any good news related to my mother’s treatment.
I discarded the dirty paintbrush and got another and resumed my work on the deck. I didn’t want to get too excited about this yet. I couldn’t handle another disappointment.
“Natalie misses your girlfriend,” my mother said that night.
I’d taken them both out for big salads at a local favorite. I really didn’t have the money to spare but I couldn’t resist. We deserved a treat, and God knew my little sister needed some fresh veggies in her diet.
I snorted at my mother sticking her nose into my business. Then I took an overly large bite of ranch-covered lettuce so she wouldn’t expect a response.
“Mom,” Natalie said in a soft voice. “He misses her too.”
“She’s good for you,” Mom said. “For both of you.”
I tossed a garbanzo bean and it pinged Nat in the cheek.
She squealed and I pushed back from the table and said, “I need more pineapple.”
I walked over to the purported “Largest Salad Bar in Georgia” and lifted the spoon from the bowl of pineapples. The juicy triangle-cut fruit had been nothing more than an excuse, but now it was another reminder of Savannah. I’d heard rumors that the tropical fruit could pleasantly impact one of my favorite activities with her. Damn if my blood wasn’t rushing south at the thought.
Scooping the fruit onto my plate, I struggled to push her from my thoughts. My mother and her ridiculous revelations. Of course Nat missed Savannah, and I did too. The knowledge that my mother had actually gone through with that injection was like a key turning in one of the many rusty locks around my heart. I wasn’t sure how long the chain reaction would take to free my heart from the chains I’d wrapped so tightly around it when I pushed Savannah away. This afternoon I’d slowly started to feel again. Not the numbness that had finally replaced the misery. Really feeling. I needed Savannah. I deserved her. I would have to get her back in my life.
How? I had no idea.
I was hoping that the old “sleep on it” thing actually worked. It wouldn’t be easy to win her back, and I prayed to wake with an inspired idea in the morning.
Savannah
Luke had texted me last night.
I’m working on things. I miss you.
WTF? What did that mean?
If I had actually noticed the text, I never would have gotten any sleep.
I’d gotten lucky and failed to hear the beep. I’d woken up and stretched, then grabbed my phone out of habit. And now I sat on my bed trying to comprehend what I was reading on my phone.
He’d broken my heart. Twice. Or at least he’d broken it and then thrown it down and stomped on it.
I called Sophie and told her.
“Oh, Savannah.”
“What the hell does this mean, Soph? What am I supposed to do with this? Just hang out and wait?”
“Maybe you should just call him.”
“No.”
“What do you want, Savannah?”
“I want it to be over if it’s over, and if it isn’t, I want to know now.” I missed him, and I wanted to be with him. The not knowing was like running my heart through a cheese grater.
“Should I come over?”
I hated that he’d made me such a mess. I didn’t do weak. Weak wasn’t me. “No. I’m okay.” I sighed. “It’s just like my heart was finally starting to scab over, and now he’s picking at the scab. And it hurts.”
“Then tell him never, ever to contact you again.”
I closed my eyes as I thought about it. “I can’t.”
“No. I didn’t think you could. Because…”
Because I still love him. She didn’t have to say it. I knew the reason.
“You could block his number,” she suggested.
I could.
“Or you could just try to be patient and hope that he’ll be ready to be with you soon.”
The phone vibrated ever so briefly against my ear as if a text had come through. I didn’t want to look, but I had to see. “Hang on.”
Another text from Luke. Have I missed my chance to be with you?
My heart thumped. He wouldn’t ask if he didn’t care. Without allowing myself to think, I typed, No and pressed send.
I held my breath.
I wanted him. I loved him, but I didn’t know if I could take him back. I couldn’t be hurt again.
If I call, will you answer?
I exhaled. No.
Then I hit return to call and raised the phone to my ear. “Sophie?”
“Yeah.”
“I need to think for a while. Can I call you back?”
“Sure.”
I hung up and the phone rang. Luke calling. I lay back on my bad and watched the screen as the ringtone went on and on. Finally it stopped.
A huge lump formed in my throat. I set the phone on the bed and pulled the covers over me. I snuggled down and tugged them over my head.
Then the phone beeped. Not a text this time. A voicemail.
Normally I hated voicemails. Why make me listen when you could just text me? But a message from Luke meant I would hear his voice.
His voice. I shuddered at the memory of his beautiful Georgia accent. Deep, smooth, and rumbling. The way his voice wrapped around me like a hug when he called me darlin’.
I pushed the covers back and grabbed my phone. I hit the voicemail and held the phone to me ear.
“I guess you meant it,” he said. “I’m not going to stop trying. I love you.”
Thump thump. I wanted him back, but only if I was sure. I had to know he wouldn’t hurt me anymore.
I’m not going to stop trying.
Dare I hope that he meant it?
How in the world would I ever guarantee he wouldn’t hurt me? I couldn’t. I wouldn’t risk it.
I hit play on the message again and put the phone on speaker.
I love you too, Luke.
Luke
She said I still had a chance. Well, actually, she said I hadn’t ruined my chances. And still, she hadn’t answered my calls. She hadn’t replied to my texts, in the four days since I’d left the first voice mail.
I’d sent flowers. I’d invited her to dinner. I’d shown up at her house and knocked until my knuckles were raw.
I’d done everything I could think of, and I hadn’t gotten anywhere.
The suggestions on the internet all involved spending cold hard cash. I didn’t have money to burn, and a part of me knew that Savannah wouldn’t want me wasting
money. I knew what she didn’t want, but I didn’t know what she actually wanted.
Desperate enough to finally bare my soul to her friends, I texted Madison and then Sophie. Neither offered me any good ideas, but both of them urged me to keep trying.
I lay face down on my bed trying half-heartedly to smother myself with my pillow, when Nat walked in.
I glanced up to make sure it wasn’t my mother.
“You look like shit.”
“Watch your mouth,” I grumbled.
“Why don’t you just get her back?”
“I’m trying, Nat. It isn’t working.”
“Maybe you aren’t trying hard enough.”
“I don’t know what she wants from me.”
Nat shook her head. “She wants a grand gesture, you idiot.”
“A grand gesture? Well, thanks. That answers all my questions. No problem.”
“You don’t deserve my help.”
I groaned. “I don’t know, Nat. What kind of grand gesture?”
“Something that will touch her heart. Something that will convince her that you love her.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.” She patted my arm. “I think you’ll figure it out though.”
“You do?”
She nodded.
“Thanks, Nat.”
Savannah
I woke up the day after Thanksgiving and went to the kitchen for some orange juice.
The door to Aubrey’s room opened and a guy stepped out, wearing only jeans. He didn’t have much ink, and if he hadn’t come out of her room, I might have thought he was normal.
How many guys had I directed to the bathroom? I sighed. The girl had serious issues. “The bathroom’s through the kitchen.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I’ve been here before.”
I stopped in my tracks. “You have?”
He nodded.
“How many times?”
“Twice.”
Huh. “Does Aubrey know?”
“Not sure,” he said with a crooked grin. “I didn’t ask.”
I watched him as he crossed the kitchen. Interesting. She didn’t do repeats.
Then I opened the fridge and grabbed the container. Close enough to empty that I didn’t need a glass. I took it and went back to my room.
Yesterday had been awful. I’d actually gone to eat with my mother and her latest. Mom had gushed over the man per usual. She’d interrogated me about Luke, which had hurt like sandpaper on sunburn. Roger had read me better than my own mother and tried to distract her. I never would have thought I’d end up heart broken and pining for a man. My mother did the dependent thing. Not me.
I sat on my bed and took a big gulp of OJ. The flowers he’d sent wouldn’t die. They served as a constant reminder of my misery. I finished off the juice and set the container on my desk next to the roses. White roses. They were gorgeous. He shouldn’t have spent the money.
He texted twice a day and called every morning. I wasn’t sure what I would do when he stopped. When he gave up.
I had today off, and I had some serious reading to do for class. I didn’t have time to moon over a guy. The truth was that he wasn’t going to convince me. There wasn’t anything that he could do to reassure me. I should just tell him to stop. I should put an end to this purgatory, but I didn’t want to plummet us both into a deeper realm of hell.
Luke
I rolled over and an unbearable pain hit me as if someone were cutting off my arm. I jerked up and onto the other side. Then I smiled as the pain receded. It was finished. I was almost ready. Tomorrow, I would present Savannah with my grand gesture.
Savannah
Luke had been trying to catch me all day. He texted me that he’d come to the theater if I didn’t agree to see him. So I had agreed. But I hadn’t made it easy on him. I told him to meet me at Chico Dave’s where Sophie’s new crush was playing.
Good luck talking to me there. With the noise and the crowd, my body probably wouldn’t hum in response to his nearness. His voice wouldn’t caress my soul.
I texted Sophie to meet me at my place and help me dress to make the bastard drool.
I didn’t realize she had such a vast drool-worthy wardrobe. I stared at the miniskirts and cleavage-revealing tops she’d brought over. “Since when do you have four pairs of ‘fuck me’ shoes?”
She blushed. “I have eight. I left the others at home.”
“My feet are a half size bigger than yours.”
“Yeah, so? You can make them work.”
“Yes, but I’ll stretch them out and you won’t be able to wear them again.”
“Honestly, Savannah? I’m hoping I won’t be walking in these. I’m hoping they’ll be wrapped around a hot drummer’s backside while he rocks my world.”
I stared at my friend. “You do have it bad, don’t you? Are all these clothes new?”
She looked down at my bed. “Pretty much.”
A depressing thought hit me. “Wait. You aren’t going to let me send Luke packing and then ditch me for hot sex, are you?”
Sophie shook her head. “No. I wish.”
With my hands on my hips, I raised a brow.
“Not the ditching you part. The hot sex part.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re going to catch his attention, Soph.” I gestured to her new wardrobe. “These outfits aren’t exactly subtle.” Just when my love life goes down the toilet, Sophie’s goes nuclear.
“What do you want to start with?” Sophie asked. She held up a faux leather miniskirt and white T-shirt with a V-neck that dipped low.
“Pick what you want first, Sophie. Then I’ll choose.”
“Actually,” her cheeks flamed, “I already have. I left it in my bag.”
“Oh my God. It’s slutty isn’t it? It is!”
She didn’t meet my eyes.
“You little slut-puppy!” I exclaimed. “Put it on already. I want to see it.”
“You’ll tell me if I look like an idiot, won’t you.”
“Of course. You’ll do the same for me.” I took my outfit from her and then rummaged in my drawer for a white bra.
Sophie grabbed her bag and went into my bathroom.
I looked down at the red bra I was wearing. “Should I wear a red bra under the white shirt or put on a white one?”
“Red,” she called from the bathroom. “This is not the time to be subtle. Unless you want to wear a really lacy white one. That would be hot too.”
I left the red one on and slipped the shirt over my head.
The skirt was tight, which surprised me because Sophie was taller and a size bigger. How had she planned to breathe in this thing?
Staring down at the red circles in the front of my shirt, I made a decision. The red bra wasn’t working. I yanked the shirt over my head, and then the bra. I quickly donned the white bra and was tugging the shirt back over my head when the bathroom door opened.
Sophie wore a black Lycra strapless minidress. It hugged her body and if she threw her arms up to dance, her boobs would probably pop out. Laces ran up both sides, tying the two pieces of Lycra together and showing tiny peeps of skin as she moved.
“Wow,” I said. “You look amazing. Illegal, but amazing.”
“Is it too Hookers-R-Us?”
“No. It is a little bit, but it’s worth it. The man will swallow his tongue when he sees you.”
She grinned.
“You said you wouldn’t leave with him. I’m not sure I believe you. Once he gets his hands on you in that dress, he won’t let you go.”
“He isn’t going to catch me in this. Then he’d think I was easy.”
“You aren’t easy?”
Sophie rolled her eyes.
“You might turn out to be easy,” I teased. “Once Logan catches you.”
Sophie didn’t argue.
“Let’s get going,” I said, grabbing my keys.
When I walked into the living room, I saw Madison standing by the arm of t
he Ugly Couch. She wore a perplexed expression.
“Uh, Madison? What are you doing?”
She looked at me and jiggled the arm of the couch. “It’s loose. I wonder how that happened.”
The memory of Luke pounding into me there made my pulse jump and I stumbled in the heels. “Er, um, weird, huh?”
“This thing was indestructible.”
I didn’t want to talk about the couch, and I wanted Madison to stop thinking about it.
Sophie came up behind me. “You want to come with us?”
Madison looked at me. “If you need me to, I will.”
“Come on,” Sophie said. “It will be fun.”
“I’m okay,” I said.
“Then I’ll pass.” Madison finally quit messing with the loose arm and sat down. “If you decide not to come home, tell me.”
“I’m coming home.”
“Okay, but if not…”
She thought there was a chance Luke would win? I didn’t see how.
Chapter Sixteen
Savannah
We walked in to the club after the band had started and stood at the closest bar-height table we could find. I was half afraid Sophie’s dress would start a riot. Or at least get us hit on by a lot of undesirables.
Logan didn’t have a chance. I didn’t know how much he could see from behind the drum set where he was wielding those sticks like some kind of rock god.
He wasn’t half bad. The band’s music was starting to grow on me. Logan showed off some of his talent with a crazy drum solo that blew away the audience. He was rocking it out…
Until a drum stick went flying toward the lead singer, smacking him in the side of the head.
Logan had just seen Sophie in her dress.
After a long pause, the lead singer tossed the stick back to the drummer and they started into another song.
Sophie had her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with horror.
“The dress worked,” I said in a loud voice.
“I hope he isn’t mad.”
“He can’t be mad. He might be embarrassed.”
“Well, damn.”
“He’ll get over it.”
Too Fast Page 17
