by Jolene Perry
I feel guilty for making him let go of me. “I’d love to. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He reaches out and takes my hand again. He’s so full of emotion right now that his thoughts and feelings hit me hard. I want this. He wants this. He’s excited and afraid and I’m excited and afraid for different reasons. The thoughts and feeling spin around in my head and start to make me crazy.
“Would you relax?” He chuckles. “We’re walking down the street, and I want to hold your hand, can we handle that?”
“I…” I don’t know. How insane? I don’t know if I can handle just touching him?
“Fine.” He jerks his hand away, stares at the address, and I’m sorry again.
“Please.” I take his arm.
“Forget it, Addie.” He won’t look at me.
What’s wrong with me? It should be simple, right? Hold hands, walk down the street. Easy.
The problem is what I feel and what he feels mixes together when we touch, and I can’t unscramble my wants from his. I’ll have to trust Dean in a whole new way to get to that point with him.
“Wait.” I keep walking, but I’ve hit this realization that feels significant.
“What?”
“How will we ever recognize being manipulated from the other?”
“What are you talking about, Addie?” His smirk is back as his eyes hit mine.
“I mean, if you want to hold my hand, as soon as I touch you, I’ll want to also because you’re feeling it and you’re making me feel it and—”
“Or.” He stops on the sidewalk, and I stop next to him. “It’ll intensify the feelings we’re already having and everything will be even better.”
I’m melting into Dean right now, through his hand, my feet into the pavement. What if he’s right? Will everything with him feel that much better than it normally would? Will everything we do together be as intense as the few moments we’ve shared? The look in his eyes and the feel of his breath on my face tells me that yes, that’s exactly right.
I break out in shivers of anticipation of what Dean and I might do together. People pass us, bump into us. The sidewalks are filling up. I don’t care. Feeling his lips on mine becomes a need. I ache for the loss of us as close as could be right now.
Kiss me. The words float into my head like they always do when we touch. I jerk my hand from his. “Stop that!” I can’t believe he’d taint a kiss by trying to tell me what to do.
He blinks a few times, looking shocked. I turn away and start walking.
“Wait, Addie.” He reaches out and takes my arm. I can feel his thought creeping in. Stop. Please.
I jerk my arm away and keep walking. “You can’t keep doing this to me. It’s not funny.” Why would he do that? Why would he turn what we have, whatever we have, into something he’s just trying to get by telling me to do it?
“Addie. Stop.” He jogs a few steps toward me keeping his hands raised between us as a sign he won’t touch me. “Please. I won’t touch you. I promise. But it’s not like that. I can make you do things, and you pulled away from me, so you’re just reading my thoughts! I’m not trying to force anything.”
I fold my arms and shift my weight to one leg as we stop. Why am I having a hard time believing him? It’s not like he’s lied to me before. No. Just that I’m used to being lied to.
His mouth opens to speak but nothing comes out. “Shit, Addie. I’m crap at this. I didn’t mean to tell you to do anything, okay?” He pushes out a breath. “I just really wanted a kiss.”
He looks so…contrite.
“I’m sorry. I’m crazy. Really. Let’s go find your brother, okay?” Maybe this will at least bring us back into something that resembles normal.
His face softens but he doesn’t speak. He starts to walk, and I walk next to him, grasping his hand with mine. Better.
TWENTY-TWO
Dean
Addison confuses the hell out of me. Right now it feels like we’ll never get anywhere. I can’t do anything about her, not right now, not with Jeremy’s address in my hand. What if they’re gone? Simply not home?
Jeremy’s on 87 street. A nice part of town. Probably one of those old brownstones. I hope so. He’s actually not too far from Addie.
Three years. Jeremy went from 10 to 13. I know I’ll recognize him, but part of me worries. Maybe he believes the lies Mom told about me. He knows better, he knows, but maybe he’ll believe her instead of me. Maybe he’ll believe the things he said when he was lying and believing Mom that it would keep us together.
I don’t know what to expect. There’s also the possibility he won’t care. I’m a wreck.
I check the numbers on the paper. Again. I look at the numbers on the buildings. Again.
“You okay?” Addison squeezes my hand.
“I haven’t seen him in three years.” Will she understand?
“Right.” Yep, she understands.
“Dean?” My head snaps up to see Jeremy. He’s a smaller version of me, standing on the steps of a brownstone. I can’t believe his luck. The neighborhood is amazing for a foster kid. There’s no mistaking us as brothers. A backpack’s on his shoulder, and his mouth’s open in shock.
“Found ya.” I try to laugh, but I’m wound up tighter than I’ve been for years.
“Dean.” He drops his pack runs the few steps to me and throws his arms around my neck.
His body isn’t the body of a little kid anymore. There’s weight to him now. Strength. He’s so different. I’ve missed so much.
“Look at you, little brother.” I pull away and slap the flat of my hand on his chest when most of me wants to cry at how much he’s changed and how much I’ve missed. “You’re all grown up.”
His smile is wide. He’s still in those awkward years of early teenager. But hell, he’s early teenager.
“Where have you been?” Jeremy’s voice is a mixture of confusion and excitement.
“No contact order.” He should know this.
“What?”
He didn’t know. How did he not know?
“After the interview with you and Mom. No contact order,” I explain.
“They can’t do that!” He’s so much like me. It’s like looking in a mirror of who I was three years ago.
“Why else would I not see for you three years?” What does he think of me?
“I…” He opens his mouth but freezes.
“Addison found you for me.” I look back at her and there’s more emotion on her face than I’ve ever seen. A few tears of hers have spilled over, making my chest tight again.
“Nice to meet you.” She smiles but stands behind me. Her chin is puckering as she tries not to cry.
“You too.” Jeremy looks back to me. “So, you’re not supposed to be here?” he asks.
“No.”
“My parents will be home soon. Are you going to get in trouble?” His eyes widen a little.
His parents. I’m actually so relieved to hear him say that because Mom never was a parent to us, and it makes me hopeful that his home is as good as it looks. “I was hoping to talk to them.”
“So we could get together once in a while?” So much relief comes with his hopeful face.
“Yeah.”
Jeremy, Addie and I sit down on the steps in front of his house. Jeremy tells me all about his parents—how they can’t have kids and are super nice and work together in advertising. And even though they’re busy, they work in the house so they’re around all the time. He plays baseball and is really good. He can’t wait for me to watch him play. Mostly I take in his face, his voice. He has so much confidence. His life is so much better than I expected.
Addie sits quietly, resting her hand in mine. Smiling every time a funny thought passes through my head. It should totally bother me that she’s inside me this way, but it doesn’t. I’m completely absorbed in Jeremy, but I squeeze her hand once in a while so she knows I’m here.
“Oh. There’s my parents,” Jeremy says quietly.
&n
bsp; “Hey, Dean?” Addie squeezes my hand.
“Yeah?” I turn to look at her.
“Why don’t we,” she whispers, “both just work on keeping them calm, okay?”
“You know I love that you’re here.” I put both my hands over hers for a moment.
“Me, too.” She stands up and lets go of my hand.
“Who are your friends, Jeremy?” the mom asks, only her bright blue eyes spark in recognition because Jeremy and I look way too much alike for her to not know who I am.
My brain starts to go numb. I wonder what these people heard and how much they hate me?
TWENTY-THREE
Addison
I know we meet but I’m so concentrated on calm, smooth, this isn’t a big deal, that everything else sort of gets lost.
The conversation is going well. Dean’s explaining the misunderstanding with the help of his brother.
“Hey, Jeremy?” his dad says. “Why don’t you leave us alone for a few minutes, okay?”
“Walk with me Jeremy?” I ask him.
“Sure.” He shrugs and his face seems sulky, like he’s upset to be left out of the conversation.
“Hey, Jeremy. Take this.” I hand him a piece of paper.
I’m still not sure why it seemed important, but while I was at Dad’s office, it just seemed like the thing to do.
“What is it?”
“Don’t tell anyone. Understand? Anyone. This is crucially important. My dad uses this when he wants to talk online, and doesn’t want anyone else to hear, okay?”
He nods.
“You should be able to access it anywhere. It acts totally benign to parental control systems, but people can’t hack in. You can chat with your brother here. Leave messages for him, whatever. Memorize this information and then burn the paper. I set up an account for you and Dean that no one else can see, but I’m not supposed to know this exists.” Why am I doing this?
“So, why did you give it to me?”
“Because your brother misses you. And I don’t want you two to be separated again.” Why would they be separated? I hate it when I feel the compulsion to do things I don’t understand—like the four thousand dollars in my closet.
“Because you love him.” Jeremy fingers the paper, staring at it.
“I don’t…” I glance up at Dean and it hits me in my chest and then in my stomach. Just like every other time my eyes meet his.
“Thanks, Addison.” He stuffs the paper in his pocket.
“Hope to see you soon.” I smile down at him. I wonder if my words come out okay. Dean. Can I love Dean? Already?
“You, too.”
And now Dean’s walking this way. “You ready to take off?”
“Sure.” But it comes out in a weird squeaky shadow of my normal voice.
“Will I see you soon?” Jeremy’s trying to act cool about it but the emotion on his face is plain. He’s missed his brother.
“Definitely.” Dean smiles widely.
“You’ve said your goodbyes to his parents then?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“See you soon, Jeremy.” I wave.
Dean takes his brother in another hug before we start to walk away. My arms are folded and his are in his pockets. It’s like there’s so much to say and to talk about that neither of us really knows where to start so we don’t. Not for a while.
“They don’t have a problem with us getting together as long as I call first. Just like that. They adopted him. They have full custody and get to call the shots on who he does and doesn’t see.” Dean exhales. He still looks in partial shock over our visit. “I don’t know why this didn’t get back to me, or why I was shut out.”
“That’s great, Dean.” This is what I wanted for him. I feel good. Like I did something that matters. “Paperwork, I guess. Too many people in the system and not enough people working it, or—”
“Addie. Please stop here with me for a sec.”
The way Dean’s looking at me brings Jeremy’s comment back to mind. It’s still freaking me out. What freaks me out even more is that I couldn’t tell Jeremy I didn’t love his brother. How is that possible?
“Addie? Please. I don’t want to grab you, or touch you. I want you to want to stop and talk to me. Okay?” His voice is smooth and soft. Such a contrast to the sharpness and loudness of the people and cars around us.
“Fair enough.” I stop and tighten my arms. Like somehow their tightness will protect me. But, protect me from what? Do I want to be protected from him? From Dean? Do I even need it? Do I want it? I could have held his hand on that porch all day. Sifting through his contented thoughts about his brother.
“Thank you.” The depth in his eyes warms me, fills me, pulls me closer.
I concentrate to make sure I’m still breathing. “You’re welcome.” Only it comes out and makes it sound like I forgot how to talk.
“I think I will go absolutely, completely insane if I can’t feel your lips against mine.” The intense eyes and I’m melting without touching him and wanting to touch him more than I’ve ever wanted to touch anything and it consumes me, burns me.
We’re so close to the same height that it’s easy. He leans toward me. I lean toward him. Our arms are still at our sides, neither of us willing to taint the moment our lips touch. His breath breezes against my face. I inhale and our lips touch—like I pulled him to me with my breath. It’s soft but sharp, like heat that shoots through me. My need and his need mix together and pull us closer, closer. I don’t know how we got here, but as much of our bodies as possible are pressed together. His hands are on my face, in my hair. My arms are so tight around him I can barely breathe within our closeness, but I love it.
I want him to want this with me, and I can feel his thoughts of the same thing magnifying mine. Without question I’m in the middle of the most erotic, intense, moment of my life, and I wonder if I’ll be able to let him go. It doesn’t seem possible. I want it all too bad. All of him, his hands, his body, his mouth, warm on mine.
There’s finally a moment when I feel like I can take my lips from his. I press the side of my face to the side of his and hold him as tightly as I can.
“So, we’re kind of past the bullshit now, huh?” It’s so Dean.
“Yeah. We’re past the bullshit now.” I smile against his lips not ready to move away.
“Good. Because you’re hard to keep up with and you feel so good.”
You do too. But I can’t say it out loud. I think it and hope it goes through. My arms tighten even further around him. Once again his mouth takes mine and it’s him, all him, wrapped around me, in me, through me, and me wanting each and every thought, desire, and touch of his to be felt completely.
I wonder, standing on the sidewalk, wrapped up in the wonderfulness that is Dean, if I will ever recover from kissing him. Though I’m pretty positive I don’t want to.
* * *
“Where have you been all day?” Mom’s face is pulled into a scowl.
I’m so shocked to actually see her that it takes a moment to answer. “Out helping a friend.”
“Your father is out of town for a day or two, some business meeting or something up in Maine.”
“Maine?” That’s a first.
“Why’s that so hard to believe?” She sounds impatient, frustrated. Like I should be able to read her mind when I walk in and know exactly what she wants from me and what I should be doing.
“Is Ellie here?”
“She’s at Uncle Mac’s house. You’re picking her up in the morning. She needs to go to the Guggenheim tomorrow.”
Uh… “Why?”
“A project for a summer study course she’s taking. Really, Addison.” Mom starts toward the kitchen. “I don’t have time for this.”
“Right.” It comes out as a whisper and I’m thankful beyond words that I spent the day where I did. Wait a minute… If I’m picking Ellie up, and we’re headed to the museum, Dean needs to come. And maybe Jeremy.
I scroll to h
is number as I walk to my room.
“Hello?” I’m so thankful it’s him that answers.
“Wanna know what you’re doing tomorrow?”
He laughs. “Yes, I want to know what I’m doing tomorrow.”
“We’re taking Ellie to the Guggenheim. Why don’t you see if that little brother of yours can join us?”
“You’re some kind of awesome, Addie.”
“Some kind.” I smile again and hang up, pulling out my hand sanitizer, but I realize that there’s faint smell of Dean on me—some kind of soap and laundry detergent that I don’t want to go away so I drop the bottle back in my bag. Now I just have to hope I can sleep to make the night pass more quickly.
TWENTY-FOUR
Dean
Jeremy’s parents insist on dropping him off and picking him up at the museum. I’m fine with that. They’re letting him come. It’s a start.
Ellie and Addie are waiting. Both girls are in skirts and blouses, and I’m wishing I would’ve thought to do something a little different than my standard T-shirt and jeans. Too late now. Jeremy climbs out of an Audi and runs up the steps. I wave at his dad as he pulls away. Even Jeremy’s in a button-up shirt.
“Sorry, Addie. I didn’t have my head on this morning while I was getting dressed.” I look down at my clothes.
“Dean.” She chuckles. “You’re good-looking enough that walking in there, the way you’re dressed, will make people assume you’re some sort of model or something. Don’t worry about it.”
“Wow, that was quite a compliment.” I take one step closer.
Her dimples show as she tries to hold in her smile. Her hair is pulled up, aside from her bangs. Her small shirt accentuates her long, lean waist and I honesty don’t look any lower than that, because the rest just doesn’t matter.
“Can I have your hand?”
She reaches out, and I slide our fingers together.
“Are you two going to be like this all day?” Ellie raises a brow.
