Can't Go Back

by Marie Meyer

  Carefully I crawled my way onto the bed, resting beside her.

  She turned toward me, her dark eyes widening in surprise…pulling me in.

  Without a word she rolled her body in my direction. On my outstretched arm she laid her head, still holding me captive with her eyes.

  Entranced by this woman, my best friend, I reached to touch her. My fingers brushed over her soft cheeks, moving some loose strands of blond hair away from her face. This close, I could feel her warm breath on my face, and I’d have given anything to kiss her. But I resisted, not wanting to ruin my carefully constructed plan for New Year’s Eve. However, if she kept staring at me the way she was, her eyes soft and glowing…her sexy lips parted slightly…I’d have to reconsider.

  She leaned in a little more.

  This is going to be a long fucking week! She was not making this easy.

  A new song came through her earbuds, another Mine Shaft song. Her eyes still on mine, she moved her right arm between us, causing some of her pencils to fall to the floor. I couldn’t help it, I wanted her closer. I grabbed her hand, using it to pull her toward me. I draped my arm over her waist, breathing in the scent of her. She smelled so fresh, like flowers in the wind.

  With only inches between us, Jillian remained still in my arms. She had to know how I felt about her. How much I loved her. Just as in my daydream earlier, my eyes skimmed over her features. I also knew how this would end if my gaze kept roaming, and I had to do this right. Jillian wasn’t just some woman. She was the woman…my woman.

  Lifting my hand from her waist, I rested it behind her neck, feeling her soft hair beneath my callused fingers. It seemed disgraceful to touch her with my roughened, bass-torn hands. She was so delicate and soft, I feared my touch would mar her tenderness. But she didn’t shy away, and I was thankful.

  My fingers trailed along her jaw, over to her ear. Pulling gently, I grasped the wire to her earbuds. The earpiece fell out. “Whatcha drawing?” I whispered.

  Her cheeks flushed in response to my question. That piqued my interest. It wasn’t like her to withhold her creations. I brought my arm up, bearing the weight of my head on my elbow. “Jillibean? You OK?”

  Then, like a bolt of lightning, Jillian was out of the bed. The rest of her pencils fell on the floor, along with her sketch pad. “What? Yeah…fine. I’m fine,” she stuttered.

  What the hell is wrong with her? I ran a hand through my hair and down my face, the stubble scratching against my calluses. Blowing out a breath, I stretched over the side of the bed, trying to get a glimpse of this drawing that was making her spastic. “Let’s see what masterpiece you’ve created today,” I drawled.

  My fingers brushed against the spirals and the pages, struggling to get a firm grasp on it. I didn’t know why she was being so weird. It wasn’t like her not to show me her work; she showed me everything.

  I lifted it from the ground. Just as my eyes landed on the lower half of the paper, the sketchbook went sailing from my fingers, hitting the door across the room. “What the fuck! Why’d you do that?” I sat up on the bed, shocked.

  “I…I’m sorry,” she stuttered. Her eyes were as wide as mine.

  Pulling my feet to my chest, I rolled to the side of the bed where she stood, and I got up. Half a step, and I towered over her. She followed me with her eyes, but refused to really look at me. If I didn’t know better, she would have seemed scared. But why? I didn’t like it. The subtle fear on her face was out of place when it came to me. She never needed to fear me.

  I lightly pinched her chin between my thumb and forefinger and drew her head up, forcing her dark eyes to look at me. “You better start talking. What’s wrong?”

  She stared at me. The color of her eyes intensified, turning from dark brown to almost black. But she remained quiet.

  I didn’t press. She’d tell me what was on her mind when she was ready. Instead I held her. Closing the physical distance between us, I wrapped my arms around her, folding her to my chest.

  She let out a long breath and relaxed against my chest. I held her, breathed her in, and tried my damnedest to take away all her worries.

  “Come on, get changed,” I said close to her ear. “We’ve got somewhere to be.” I pulled her away and smiled, hoping to lighten the heavy gravity surrounding us.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I pulled Jillian’s tiny Honda Civic into my parents’ gravel drive and glanced over at her. She looked back at me and smiled. “Your parents’ house is the big surprise?”

  “They’ve been dying to see you.” I pushed open the door and got out at the same time Jillian opened hers. She’d beaten me to it. Taking a couple steps around the front of the car, I noticed Jillian hadn’t budged. “You coming?” Behind the open car door, she stood frozen in front of the house.

  Startled, she jumped and shut the car door. “Yeah,” she answered, an air of excitement in her voice.

  I made my way around the car and held my hand out for hers, craving her touch like a starving man craves the smallest scrap of food. With our fingers intertwined, I pulled her up the sidewalk. Jillian marveled at my mother’s over-the-top light display. Since Mom bought her dream house three years ago, Pop has had some major decorative feats to accomplish. I didn’t envy him.

  Once we hit the front porch, I went right in, not bothering to knock. Awesomesauce came barreling down the stairs, barking gruffly, announcing our arrival. “Hey, buddy,” I crooned, bending over to pet the dog, but refusing to let go of Jillian. I scratched behind his ears. Awesomesauce rolled over onto his back, begging me to scratch his belly. I stood back up and rubbed his belly with the toe of my boot. “Come on, boy.” I tapped my leg. “Let’s go see what that amazing smell is.” I turned to Bean and smiled, nodding toward the kitchen, and reaching for her hand.

  “Everything smells heavenly,” she said with a contented sigh.

  Walking down the hallway, I tapped my leg again, encouraging Awesomesauce to follow along as we started for the kitchen. “Mom insisted we have a late Christmas dinner, so I could pick you up.” I glanced over my shoulder and noticed how her face softened into a relaxed smile. She was finally home.

  “Mom, we’re here,” I called. My boots clomped on the shiny floor and Awesomesauce trotted at my heels. “Mom?”

  “I’ll be down in a minute!” Her voice came from upstairs. I shrugged and continued toward the kitchen. The cold pizza I’d had for breakfast hadn’t filled me up, and I was fucking hungry.

  Once we were in the kitchen, Jillian let go of my hand and walked around, taking in all the decorations, her fingers brushing gently over Mom’s “Santas from around the World” figurine collection that sat on the tall rectangular table near the pantry.

  I let her go, wanting her to feel at home. No pressures here—just family and people who loved her. I wanted the fear and apprehension I had seen in her eyes at Jennifer’s house to disappear. I wanted the awkward tension between us to melt away.

  I went to the oven and pulled it open, peeking inside. I hummed and breathed in a giant whiff of turkey. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” I closed the oven door and turned around, still drunk on the smell of poultry.

  “Thank you,” Jillian said, turning to face me.

  My eyebrows pinched together. “For what?” I walked toward her, desperate to have her back in my arms. She’d been away from me for too long. God, she has to know how much I want her…how much I need her.

  I lifted her purse from her shoulder, gently guiding it over her head, careful not to bump her. I didn’t remove my eyes from her once, spilling the contents of my heart with just a look. Slowly I pushed back her coat, dragging my hands down her arms as the coat slipped off. “I’ll put these up for you.” I winked, kneeling down to pick her purse up from the floor. As I knelt, my nose brushed against hers, sending ripples of pleasure through my body.

  “Jillian!” Mom sang, entering the kitchen. Damn! Things were just getting interesting.

  Jillian sp
un around like she’d been caught doing something naughty. “Mrs. Daniels,” she said, walking over to my mom’s open arms.

  “It’s so good to see you, sweetie.” Mom hugged her tightly, rocking her back and forth. “We’ve missed you so much.”

  I leaned against the island in the middle of the kitchen, watching the exchange between the two most important women in my life. I loved how much my parents loved Jillian. Nee was so right. I was a fucking idiot to keep Jillian so far away. What was I thinking? I was more convinced than ever that Jillian belonged with me. I just hoped it wasn’t too late, and that I hadn’t missed my chance. One more week, then Jillian would know exactly how I felt about her. But I prayed she already knew.

  “I’ve missed you, too,” Jillian said, hugging my mom in return.

  Mom stepped back and slipped her arm though Jillian’s, leading her in my direction. Ignoring my presence, Mom stepped around me and Awesomesauce and led Jillian to a chair on the opposite side. As they walked by, I caught Jillian’s eye and shook my head, grinning.

  “Hey, Ma,” I piped up. “Remember me? Your son?” I tapped her on the shoulder. Now that Bean was here, I was forgotten. And I loved it. I loved how Jillian fit right in with us.

  “Oh, shoo,” Mom said, waving her free hand, brushing me out of the way. “You’re here at least three times a week raiding my refrigerator.” Or I used to be, at least. Mom was keeping our argument quiet, and I was thankful. I smiled and stepped out of her way.

  “I don’t know,” I sighed, “I’ve always suspected you liked her better than me.” I played along.

  Mom cocked an eyebrow at me. Had I taken the charade too far? “Well, duh, she’s much easier on the eyes.”

  I laughed, shaking my head. “I can’t disagree with you there, Ma.”

  Jillian giggled, her cheeks reddening. I would have given anything to taste the sound of that laughter on her lips. It took every ounce of willpower not to snatch her away from my mom and capture her mouth with mine.

  Mom pulled out a barstool and Jillian sat as Mom took up a small knife and went to work chopping the vegetables that were spread out on the countertop.

  I stared at Jillian. The more I watched, the harder it was not to kiss her. I needed space to clear my head. She consumed me. “I’m gonna go find Pop,” I said, knocking a fist against the island. “Don’t talk about me too much while I’m gone.”

  Mom sent a piece of broccoli sailing across the island, hitting me in the head. “Didn’t I tell you to shoo?”

  I held up my hands to block any other flying vegetables. “I’m shooing!” I walked backward in the direction of the living room, keeping my eye on Mom…and Jillian.

  Even with Jillian in the next room, I could feel her like a magnetic force. The living room was quiet and empty. “Dad?” I called, wondering what he was up to.

  He didn’t answer.

  I walked through the living room and back to the front of the house, stepping outside. It was so fucking cold outside. Adjusting my flimsy leather jacket, I pulled it closed as best I could before I headed down the porch steps.

  “Hey, Pop? You out here?” I called again, turning up the drive, toward the garage.

  The garage lights were on. I twisted the doorknob and let myself in. A rush of warm air greeted me, and I saw Dad reclined in his favorite camo chair, watching a football game.

  “Can you believe it?” he said, not bothering to turn around and see who came in. “Not one stinking football game on today.”

  “What do you mean?” I sat down on the ragged old couch beside his chair and stretched my legs out wide. “What’s that?” I pointed to the screen.

  “Just tape from earlier in the season,” he growled, still scowling at the television screen.

  I rested my head on the back cushion and closed my eyes. I blew out a big breath and relaxed. My Jillian-induced fog lifted slightly.

  We were quiet for a long time. Dad remained absorbed in his game, and I welcomed the familiar sounds, which helped to clear my head. Even though I’d never enjoyed playing football, there was a soothing quality to the cheering crowd, the whistle, and the crunch of the pads as the players demolished one another. I’d grown up watching these films. It reminded me of being younger, a time when life was less complicated.

  “What’s on your mind, Son?” Dad asked, lowering the volume.

  I lifted my head. I could never articulate what my problems were, that’s why I wrote songs. It was easier to put emotions to music. I shook my head. “Just a lot going on.” I scrubbed my hands over my face.

  “You look like hell.”

  “Thanks,” I spit back, annoyed.

  “Jillian here?” He set the recliner rocking.

  “Yep.” I glanced at the ceiling for a second, organizing my thoughts. “Pop, can I ask you something?”

  “Reconsider your decision about school?”

  I gave my old man a sidelong glance. “Don’t start, Pop.”

  “It was worth a try. But you’re a man. I respect your choice.”

  I harrumphed. “Tell that to Mom.”

  “Just give her some time.” Dad smiled.

  “At least she’s not making a fuss in front of Jillian. That’s a start, huh?”

  Dad considered my words but didn’t voice his thoughts. “I know you didn’t come out here to rehash this old discussion. What’d you want to ask me?”

  I lifted my head, looking my father in the eye. “It’s about Jillian.”

  “She all right?” Concern glossed over his features as he remembered back to a time when Jillian wasn’t OK.

  I nodded. “She’s fine. It has to do with me…and her.”

  “What do you mean?” Dad sat forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees.

  I took a deep breath and started in. “I’m tired of playing around, Dad. I can’t pretend to hide my feelings for her anymore.”

  A smile cracked my Dad’s tough exterior. “Well, it’s about damn time.” He reached over and smacked my knee, his smile giving way to laughter.

  I shook my head. “What if I am too late?”

  “There you go again, making excuses. I’ve watched you dance around that girl for years. Everyone that knows you two knows you’re supposed to be together. Hell, the only two people that don’t are you and her.” He laughed dryly. “It’s fourth down, Son, time to make your move. The only way you’re going to know if it’s too late is to put it all on the line. Tell her how you feel.”

  “I plan to. I just worry I’ve pushed her away so much, I can’t get her back.” I leaned forward, matching my father’s stance.

  “Son, throw the ball, send up your Hail Mary, knowing your Jillibean, she’ll be there to catch it.” He winked at me.

  Inwardly I cringed. My dad and his ridiculous football analogies. But he had a point, just like Nee. Even though they used different phrases, their message was the same: I had to tell her how I felt, regardless of the outcome. I was cheating us both out of happiness.

  I felt better now, more resolved. I would tell her everything on New Year’s Eve, in front of a thousand fucking people.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry,” Dad said, shoving my knee again. He stood up and groaned. “I’m going in the house.”

  “Right behind you, Pop.” I stood, too, following Dad out of the garage and toward the house.

  Dad put his arm around my shoulder, wrestling me to his side. “I know you’ve loved that girl for a long time. For years I’ve watched the way you look at her.” He squeezed his arm, shaking me as he laughed. “I’m glad you finally figured it out.”

  My mind flashed back to Nee and the night she’d talked some sense into me. “I had some help.”

  “Course you did. Us men, we can be pretty dense when it comes to women.”

  “Ain’t that the fucking truth,” I sighed. Together we climbed the pack porch.

  Before he pulled open the door, he squeezed my shoulder and smiled. “Don’t let your momma hear y
ou talking like that.”

  I smiled, pleased that Dad didn’t regard my college-dropout status as grounds to quit speaking to me. I appreciated his candor. “No, sir.”

  * * *

  By late evening we’d eaten and opened gifts. It was a great night, and I wasn’t ready for it to end. Throughout the evening I flirted subtly with Jillian, finding ways to touch her when I could.

  We said our good-byes and I ushered her back to the car. I pulled open her door, she sat down, and I sealed her away. Rounding the car, I climbed into the driver’s seat.

  Jillian sat back, a contented smile on her face, as I started the car and backed down the driveway.

  “Thank you, Griffin. That was exactly what I needed.” Her eyes closed and she relaxed farther into the seat.

  A wicked smile spread across my face. Now that I had her alone, I was dying to turn things up a notch. I couldn’t fight it any longer, I needed to touch her.

  I rested my hand on her leg, like I’d done at dinner, but instead of a quick pat, I trailed my fingers up the length of her thigh. Lingering near the top of her leg, I dipped my fingertips between her legs, cursing the pants she’d worn. Heat rolled off her in waves.

  She sucked in a breath. I threw a momentary glance in her direction just to see her bottom lip sucked between her teeth. God damn it. I am losing my mind. I was ready to fuck my New Year’s Eve plan and turn it into a Christmas confession. I sat up in my seat, readjusting. My dick didn’t care what day it was.

  I pulled in a silent breath and put my eyes back on the road, holding on by a thread. Even though it was torture, I couldn’t stop touching her. Occasionally I’d glance at her long enough to issue a silent dare, begging her to make the next move.

  Does she want me the way I want her? Why does she keep quiet? I tried to gauge her body’s reactions to my touch, but she was so guarded. Have I done this to her? Made her scared to open up?

  For fifteen minutes my fingers traced lazy circuits up and down her leg, soaking in her warmth and inwardly dying for more. Neither of us spoke, the tension palpable. But when I saw taillights ahead, I reluctantly placed my hand back on the cold wheel.