More Than Each Other (More Than Best Friends Book 2)

by Sally Henson

  I don’t respond.

  It doesn’t matter because he continues, “They pay for the whole thing.” He drones on about how I can improve my life by going to work for the factory and staying in this crap-hole town.

  My muscles tighten one by one until my whole body actually aches. My dreams seem further and further away as the writing is etched on the wall. Dad doesn’t want me to leave Stelmo.

  He sits the last of the pamphlets down and looks at me. “What do you think?”

  The only choice I have is to tell him how much I hate the idea. “Why would I take their money and agree to work a job I’d hate? I don’t want to stay here for the rest of my life.”

  “Marine science is not an option.” Dad’s voice fills the whole house.

  I stand up so fast, it makes me lightheaded, and I stumble out of the room. By the time I close the door to my room, tears stream down my cheeks. I lean back against the door for support but end up sliding to the floor.

  Is this really what my parents want for my future?

  36

  Lane

  When I pull up to Regan’s house, her dad’s outside in the shed, working on his car. I step out of my truck and check in with him.

  “Hey, Mr. Stone, how’s it going out here in the cold?” I reach my hand toward him.

  He wipes his hand on a rag and grips mine for a firm shake. “Lane, you’re looking a little tired this morning.”

  This week has been crazy with playing at Ted’s on Wednesday night, work, and band practice every other night. I smile, knowing he may not agree with me playing in a bar. Now isn’t the time to let him in on it. “Huh, probably this cold weather.”

  “Yeah. It zaps me, too.” Regan’s dad removes a spark plug from the box and replaces the one from his engine.

  “Hey, uh, Regan’s birthday is coming up next month, and I wanted to run something by you.” I wasn’t planning on asking his permission, but it just popped in my mind. It would be a total waste if I got her birthday present and her dad wouldn’t let her have it. “Would you have a problem with Regan having her own phone?”

  He tilts his head, twisting his lips to the side. “I don’t know, Lane. That’s an expensive gift.”

  “Oh, no. It’s not as much as you might think.”

  He replaces another spark plug as he asks me a few questions and we discuss the details.

  Mr. Stone’s expression relaxes and so do I. Whew, he’s going to say yes.

  “You’re pretty good to my daughter,” he says.

  A ball of hope grows inside me. “Does that mean she’s not grounded anymore?”

  His slate eyes narrow. “No.”

  I look down to the tiny Geo Metro engine. “Oh.”

  “She needs to drop this silly idea of being the next Jacques Cousteau.” He shakes his head. “She’s too stubborn.”

  “Yeah,” I say, even though I agree with her stubbornness and know where she gets it from.

  “I sat her down and gave her some information on a few junior colleges this week.” He shakes his head. “You need to push her harder. She’s not changing her mind.”

  My head drops. I squeeze my eyes shut as the air whooshes out of my lungs.

  “Lane?” His voice drops in a serious tone. “Do I need to remind you why you’re able to even be here right now?”

  Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing? “No, sir.” I rub the back of my neck. My muscles weren’t tight until he started in on killing Regan’s dream.

  “This is what’s best.” He nods, signaling the end of that conversation.

  “Yeah.” My answer is weak, just like me.

  Every day I’m away from here is another day I put this stupid deal I made with him behind me. But here I am, listening to Mr. Stone infecting me with his poison again. It was only weeks ago this man threw me out of his house. Now we’re partners in crime?

  I turn to go inside.

  “Listen, if you’re over watching a movie late, don’t worry about leaving at midnight. It’s okay to stay later.” He raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to respond.

  I raise my brows in return, only mine is out of surprise. He’s giving me a little more for destroying his daughter’s dreams. Going along with changing Regan’s mind is worth so much more than that. “Sure, thanks.” I’ll take what I can get. And while I’m at it, “Would it be okay for Regan to come over tonight and spend the day with me tomorrow? I have some homework and need internet access to work on it. And we’ll probably have supper and hang out after that.”

  He grimaces, turning his eyes to the engine, and mindlessly wipes his hands on the greasy rag.

  My back tightens, waiting for him to respond.

  “Lane, I know I’ve agreed to let you see her on this condition, but two years is a long time at your age. It’s very possible for you to meet someone at school, and I don’t want Regan to get hurt.”

  My stomach flinches at the sucker punch Mr. Stone threw my way. I’d like to turn this around and ask him why he wants her to drop the career she’s been planning since junior high. Tell him how he’s hurting his daughter by recruiting me to help him kill her future, but I don’t want to give up mine.

  I scrub my hand across my cheek and look directly at him, making sure we have solid eye contact. “I’d never hurt Regan, Mr. Stone. I’m not interested in anyone else. And truthfully,”—courage swells inside me, and I can’t believe I’m saying this to Regan’s dad—“I think it’s always been Regan. No matter how many times you ask me, I can’t imagine seeing anyone else. She’s my best friend. I don’t want that to ever change.”

  A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I wanted to ask you, man-to-man.” He slaps me on the back and is all sorts of twisted happy about this situation he’s created.

  And I’m all sorts of confused.

  He tells me to go on inside.

  I nod and turn toward the house.

  “Oh, and Lane?”

  I do an about face, wondering what else he wants me to do for him. “Yes, sir?”

  He motions toward me and then himself. “This stays between the two of us.”

  “Yes, sir.” I nod.

  Regan and I agreed not to keep any secrets. I want to tell her what’s going on, but can she keep her mouth shut and not let her parents know that she knows? Or will she blow up at her dad and make sure we never get to see each other again?

  37

  Regan

  Mom and Dad are out of the house when I emerge from the bathroom, ready for Lane to rescue me from this pit. I gather the stupid college papers strewn all over my floor. Dad must have put them on my bed last night when I was at Lane’s. They ended up on the floor as soon as I caught sight of them.

  I take the crumpled wad to the trash can in the kitchen. What’s it going to take to get Dad to back off of this? When I take off the lid, a large white envelope addressed to Regan Stone calls my attention. I reach in and pull it out. The corner and backside are covered with coffee grounds and eggshells. Eww. I drop the papers Dad left on my bed in the can and use one piece to scrape the nastiness off the envelope.

  Oh, my gosh! It’s from Eckerd College.

  Who threw this away?

  A growl rumbles in my chest. It had to be Dad. I rush and grab a bleach wipe from under the sink to clean the back off. Dad’s outside, but I don’t want him to see me digging it out of the garbage. If I didn’t think he’d hold seeing Lane hostage from me, I’d confront him. My nose scrunches at the stench. Gross.

  What the heck? Dad gives me these junior colleges that he knows I don’t want to go to and throws away something from Eckerd? Isn’t it a federal offense to throw away mail that isn’t yours?

  I wash my hands and head down the hall so I can open it in the privacy of my room. As soon as my door is closed, I squeal with excitement and rip the envelope open, sliding the papers out.

  “Regan Leeann Stone,” Lane sings my name.

  I drop the papers, and they scatter on my floor. I didn’t
hear anyone come inside the house, and I wasn’t expecting him so early. Yes! I open my door, “In here.”

  I catch a glimpse of his kiss-me eyes before our lips get reacquainted. Oh, hello, tongue. I’ve missed you, too, even if it’s only been nine hours since we danced.

  I’m dazed and dreamy when Lane pulls away. Dang, what a kiss.

  He smiles and swings my arm back and forth. “Ready?”

  I clear my throat and try to find my voice. “Yeah.” I step back into my room and gather the Eckerd College mail from my floor. “Oh, I have something to show you.”

  Lane leans against my door frame, watching me pick up the papers I dropped when he came in. I hand him the cover letter and stuff the rest in my backpack.

  He studies the paper, twisting his lips to the side. “Eckerd College? Oh.” He scowls. “Florida.”

  I slip it out of his hand and stuff it in my bag. “I haven’t gotten to read it yet.” I lean in and whisper, “I found it in the trash.”

  “The trash?” he asks as he glides down the hall.

  “I’ll tell you about it later.” When we’re long gone from this place.

  I step into the bathroom to check my hair and run a finger under my eyeliner to remove the smudges. Just Lane’s presence is enough to shine some light into the darkness from this house and, lately, school.

  38

  Regan

  Lane and I start on our homework so we can catch up and stuff, a.k.a. have a kiss-a-thon, the rest of the day.

  I pull everything out of my bag and set it on the table. “I need a drink. You want something?”

  “No thanks.”

  I cross the great room to the kitchen, rummage in the fridge for the orange juice, and fill my glass.

  Lane has a full-on grouchy scowl when I return. His eyes roam down the page, reading my Eckerd mail. He grumbles, “Have you read this?”

  “Yeah, some of it on the way over here.” I chuckle as I hang my backpack on the corner of a chair. “That was you that picked me up, right? Cause that kiss was,” I whistle.

  Lane runs a hand through his hair, ignoring my wit as he glances from paper to paper. The tight set of his lips is a rare sight.

  “What’s wrong?” I reach for the paper he’s glowering at and pull from his fingers. It’s a handwritten note that I didn’t see earlier.

  The brilliant, blue-eyed beauty, Regan Stone,

  I suck in a breath. What the?

  My eyes scan to the bottom and see a forgotten name. Hook. I glance at Lane, do my best to ignore his grumpiness, and read the letter.

  It’s that time in your life when you should be narrowing your college choices down and submitting applications. There’s a serious problem, though. You haven’t applied to Eckerd College yet. How do I know this? Okay, I’m not psychic. I work in the recruiting office. They pay me to talk to high school students about how great this place is. It’s part time while I’m still going to school.

  You know how much I love it here, so it’s not hard for me to tell others how great it is. Why haven’t you applied yet? You and I both know this is the right place for you, Regan. I have to admit, one of the first things I did when I took this job was see if you were in the system. You know what I found? Nothing.

  I recruited Nick to get me your address (recruit, get it? haha). He said you don’t have a cell phone. He also said you started “dating” your good friend I met at the party. Nick seems to be unreliable on this subject since I find it hard to believe for several reasons.

  1. Your friend vehemently denied there was anything going on between the two of you.

  2. Brea was pawing all over him and he didn’t seem to mind. At all.

  3. The guy told me he wouldn’t mind if I were to hold your attention. (I would have tried without his blessing. Smart, blue-eyed beauties are my kryptonite. All three told me how smart you are, and your beauty is obvious. I had to get to know you).

  Since Nick is deemed unreliable, I’m leaving all the ways you can contact me at the bottom. And to help you make the right decision toward the next step…

  Reasons Why Regan Should Reach Out to Hook

  - We had so much fun the last time, we should do it again.

  - Eckerd has a new scholarship program in the works that might be perfect for you

  - Eckerd has loads of other scholarships I could help you with

  - I have BREAKING NEWS about my major change

  - I have info about the student assisted research trips we talked about

  - I have knowledge about discounted and free housing

  Seriously, though, I’m sorry we never got to take our walk this summer. It seemed as if your friends didn’t want it to happen. I can’t seem to shake that night. More specifically, I can’t seem to forget about you. I’d like to keep in touch. If you’d like to do the same, there are all kinds of ways you can let me know.

  Did I mention you can contact me in all sorts of ways?

  Your devoted fan,

  Hook

  CONTACT ME

  555-737-3737 (easily memorizable)

  hook@ecstudent.edu

  funbook.com/hookme

  PicaGab — iAmHook

  Photogram — hookme

  Oh, my gosh! Hook remembers me. He was nice. And cute, but more forward than any boy I’d been around. Well, except Lane after we became more than friends. The muscles in my cheeks are tight. There’s no way I can hide the smile etched on my face. The scholarships Hook mentioned…I think there’s a serious chance I can go to Eckerd.

  I peel my focus from the word “scholarship” scattered throughout the letter and peer at Lane. He’s chewing on the insides of his cheeks, sporting arms folded tight against his chest. With his back so rigid, he could pass as being part of the chair.

  Um, yeah. He’s annoyed. I hitch my shoulder and match his tight expression. “What?”

  He barks, “What do you think?”

  Okay, so the letter was a little on the flirty side. But Hook wasn’t that into me. He’s just a tease and trying to do his job and gain a new student.

  I raise my eyebrows, urging him to explain what the problem is.

  “He’s asking you out.”

  “He’s just doing his job.” I shake my head, propping a hand on my hip. “Eckerd’s a great school for my major. I’ve been talking about it since summer. And if they have that many scholarships, it might actually happen for me.”

  Lane leans his head into his hands, massaging his temples and forehead. “Eckerd only came into play after you met him. I don’t like that he’s flirting with you when he knows we’re together. It’s a jerk move.”

  That’s true. It is sort of a jerk move, but he said he didn’t believe Nick, so… “It sounds like you encouraged him to come talk to me at the time.”

  The force of Lane standing causes the chair to scrape against the hard wood floor. “In case you don’t remember we had a big fight over that guy.” He turns and paces toward the sofa but spins back to face me.

  Fire burns through my veins as the memories of the night Lane graduated flood my brain. “Yeah, well you and Brea acted like soulmates that night, so I have no idea why you ended up being such a jerk to me.” I hold the paper up. “Hook said in here you didn’t mind him talking with me at all.”

  Lane stalks to the kitchen, his body as rigid as the Rocky Mountains. He grabs a glass out of the cabinet and fills it from the tap. All his banging around is making me more irritated.

  “It’s just a stupid letter. And I don’t even care about Hook. Eckerd is where I want to go to school.” Besides, Hook took off with Stacey, and I love Lane.

  Wait.

  My heart stops beating, lungs stop breathing.

  I love Lane?

  Of course, I love Lane. Relief whooshes down my body from head to toe. I’ve always loved Lane. He’s my best friend. Is it more than friend love? Maybe. I don’t know. I can’t think about this now.

  Lane’s shoulders collapse. He swivels and leans against t
he sink, meeting my gaze. “Why are you so eager to get away from me? What we have is special.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down. “At least, I thought it was.”

  Ugh, those words snake across the room, reach through my chest, and squeeze my heart. “You think I’m trying to get away from you?”

  Our eyes connect. He doesn’t say anything, or move, or change his expression.

  I stretch my arms out wide. “Lane, I want to leave Stelmo in the dust, not you. This is not new. Gah!” I throw my hands up. “Leaving this town, marine science,”—Lane drops his gaze again—“it’s been my plan for a long time.”

  He straightens, running his hand through his hair, leaving it to stick out in all directions. “Does it have to be with this guy? I mean, that night? It was…not pleasant.” He takes a few steps to the island, pressing his palms to the butcher block countertop. “Regan, that’s the day I realized my friendship with you was so much more. Guys were talking about making a move for you when I went to college, and I didn’t like it. We were supposed to be friends. That’s it. But it scared me ’cause I knew it was more than that.”

  I fold my arms against my chest and eye him. The thrumming of my heart keeps the fire circulating through my body. “You’re jealous? Of a guy who spent the rest of that night with Stacey. And lives in Florida. And I won’t even see unless I go to the same college as him two years from now?” My eyebrows raise high, waiting for him to answer.

  Lane scrubs a hand down his face to the back of his neck. “What if I am?” A growly breath rushes out of him. “It drove me crazy, alright?”

  Those things he said when we were in the woods about changing my major linger in the back of my mind. “Is it jealousy over Hook or marine science?”

  Lane breaks eye contact, looking up toward the ceiling. His throat bobs as he swallows and shifts his weight. “You like him. I knew it as soon as he sat down beside you that night.” He glances at me and then turns to take a drink.