“Okay. Good.”
There was relief in his voice. I didn’t understand where it was coming from—why he’d brought it up. We’d never really talked about the Harpers before.
I had told them. Sebastian had put Mary’s number in my phone—a wordless hint that I should contact them. I’d texted her and simply said I’d moved away and was doing fine. She’d replied to ask where, but I hadn’t responded. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t want them to know where I was. Maybe I was waiting to make sure I didn’t fail. When I did reply—when I told them where I was and what I’d been doing—I wanted to have something to be proud of. As it was, there were still too many broken pieces of me lying around. Pieces that didn’t fit together.
Sebastian didn’t say anything else the rest of the walk home. It was so tempting to touch him. I wanted to brush my hand against his or lean closer so our arms touched. But he never touched me. Not even by accident. He had, once or twice, when we’d first met in Phoenix. But now, he always kept a little distance between us. It made me feel like I shouldn’t violate it—like he didn’t want me to.
He followed me up to my front door and stood next to me while I got out my keys.
“Thanks for walking me home,” I said.
“Sure,” he said. “Look, I’m not trying to give you a hard time. You just… you keep things to yourself. Sometimes I wonder what’s going on in that head of yours.”
I lifted my eyes to his. Felt his gravity pulling at me, urging me closer. A wave of heat poured through me. But it wasn’t the fire of ruin. It was the tantalizing warmth of hope. Of life. Of creation, and power, and passion. Of all that had once lived inside me that I’d lost.
“Nothing, really,” I said, stepping back and tearing my eyes from his. “I’m just doing my thing, you know? I’m fine.”
“Okay,” he said. What was I hearing in his voice? Skepticism? Disappointment? I couldn’t tell. “I’ll see you later, then. Goodnight, Brooke.”
“Goodnight.”
I watched him walk away, feeling suddenly cold and alone. Missing him before he was really gone.
21
Sebastian
The stupidest thing I’d ever done was fall in love with Brooke Summerlin.
There was no point in denying it. In a way, I’d loved her since the first moment I saw her, sitting at that table outside a restaurant in Phoenix. It didn’t matter whether it was possible. Whether love at first sight was crazy, or unrealistic. It had happened, and I was trying to figure out how to live with it.
I’d never really loved anyone before. Not even Cami. At the time, I’d thought I was in love with her. But that hadn’t been love. It had been comfort and familiarity. Cami was the proverbial girl next door. Our relationship had been what was expected. I’d liked her, and it had hurt when she’d left me. But there hadn’t been any heat. No fire, or passion. Things hadn’t worked out between us, but someone like her was still the safe choice.
There was nothing safe about Brooke.
She was unpredictable. She might show up randomly at my house with armfuls of groceries and cook an enormous dinner. Insist we go for a drive to get out of the city, and race down the highway at a hundred miles an hour, shouting at the top of her lungs. We might stay up all night so we could sit outside and watch the sky turn pink with the sunrise, even though we both had places to be the next day. She’d sit with me for hours, talking. Telling me stories about her childhood. Listening to mine.
Or she might go dark for days on end. Not answer her phone. Miss work. Twice I’d been worried enough to go check on her. I’d found her at home, looking pale and tired. Both times, she’d chased me off, claiming to be sick. I hadn’t believed her.
She was a walking contradiction—so beautifully damaged. Fearless, without a care for her physical safety, yet weighted down by sadness and grief. Spontaneous and impulsive, but still guarded and reserved. I could see fire in her eyes, fierceness in her spirit. But more often than not, it was masked by a pain she’d never talk about with me.
From the first time we’d met, she’d lodged herself deep inside of me. One look in her eyes and I’d seen her truth. She was broken. Ready to give up. That had been me, once. And I’d known, in that moment, that I had to teach her how to live again.
But I didn’t love her because of her sadness—or in spite of it. I just loved her. She made me happy. Made me feel alive. Looking at her felt like home.
Loving Brooke was a mistake, but it wasn’t because she was unpredictable. It wasn’t because I half-expected her to disappear someday. It was because I was in love with a woman who couldn’t love me back.
I was the embodiment of everything she’d lost. The heart of her pain lived in me. Literally.
So I held back. We were friends, and I wasn’t willing to lose that, even though there were times when it killed me to be near her. I texted her. Spent time with her. Walked her home some nights after work. Checked on her when she seemed to be slipping away. But I kept distance between us so she wouldn’t know. So she wouldn’t see what she did to me. How much I wanted her.
God, I wanted her.
Charlie saw right through me, but he didn’t comment. If he ever did, I’d just remind him of his train-wreck of a relationship with Kimmie. Those two seemed to fight more than they got along. When it came to the wrong woman, both of us were doing a damn good job of fucking ourselves over, just for different reasons.
I grabbed my keys and headed to my car. Charlie was taking Kimmie to the county fair, and he’d roped me into meeting them there. Because apparently I was a glutton for punishment, I’d invited Brooke. I did not want to be the third wheel to Charlie and Kimmie. But in reality, I hadn’t needed an excuse to ask Brooke to come along. It was blindingly stupid, but I’d take any chance to be with her.
I was really fucked.
When I got to her house to pick her up, she came out looking adorable in a loose gray sweater that hung off one shoulder, the sleeves covering the bracelets she always wore. Her jean shorts were so high they showed off most of her thighs. Gray socks went over her knees and she wore a pair of tall brown boots. She was killing me with that short shorts and tall socks combination. It was sexy as fuck.
“Hey,” I said. “Ready for a good old-fashioned country fair?”
“Just tell me they have funnel cake,” she said.
“I’m pretty sure they do,” I said. “What’s with the sweater, though? It’s hot out.”
“It’s like seventy-five,” she said. “That’s not hot. Talk to me when it’s a hundred and ten. That’s hot.”
“Whatever, chilly.” She was hot, but I wasn’t going to say that out loud.
We got in my car and drove out to the fairgrounds. The parking lot wasn’t full, so I found a spot not far from the entrance. I texted Charlie to see if he and Kimmie were here. He texted back, saying they were right inside, just past the admission gate.
Kimmie was pretty in a former-Johnson-County-beauty-queen way. Long hair she kept dyed platinum blond. Stylish clothes. Never seen in public without makeup. She reminded me of Cami. Kimmie had been a sorority girl too. Charlie had met her at a party in college. She’d been a wrestling groupie, and they’d hooked up a few times. After Charlie had graduated, he’d run into her again and asked her out. Since then, they’d dated on and off—and fought a lot.
Now was no exception. Brooke and I found the two of them facing off. He stood straight with his arms folded across his big chest. She had her hands on her hips, and by her expression, she was clearly unhappy.
“Again?” Brooke asked.
“Guess so,” I said. “Should we wait for them to battle it out, or just walk by?”
“Let’s keep going,” Brooke said. “They can catch up. Or, you know, not, if Kimmie keeps being a bitch.”
I laughed. “Tell me how you really feel.”
“Sorry,” she said, but she didn’t sound sorry. “Charlie is so awesome. I wish he was with someone who actually deserved him.”
<
br /> I felt stupid for the little pang of jealousy that hit me at hearing her call him awesome. Brooke and Charlie got along fine, but she’d never acted interested in him.
“Yeah, me too.”
We wandered around the fair for a while. It was crowded, but people tended to move out of the way for a big guy like me. I bought Brooke a funnel cake and she shared a few bites with me. It tasted amazing. I so rarely ate food like that. I was always too concerned with keeping my heart healthy. But the worst part wasn’t the tempting food. It was watching Brooke lick powdered sugar off her fingers. That gave me a hard-on that was downright uncomfortable.
I needed a distraction, so I led her through the booths to play a few games. She laughed when I lost at a ring toss, then laughed harder when she lost too. The sound of her laughter rang in my ears, carrying above the din of the crowd around us. I loved making her laugh. It was like winning the lottery every single time.
“I know this is ridiculous, but I need some cotton candy,” she said when we’d gotten bored of playing carnival games.
“You know that’s pure sugar, right?”
“That’s the point,” she said. “But it’s a nostalgia thing. My mom took me to a big fair once. I don’t even remember where. Oklahoma, maybe? Anyway, she bought me cotton candy. We had a good time that day.”
She almost never talked about her mother, but I’d been able to put the pieces together. She hadn’t gone to live with the Harpers as a teenager because she’d had a great home life. And she’d told me a few things. But I always felt like she was skirting around the edges of her story, afraid to tell me the whole truth.
“I can get on board with that,” I said, leading her to a booth that sold cotton candy. She offered to pay, but I just looked at her like she was nuts. The lady handed her the bag—it was bright pink—and Brooke smiled.
“Thanks.” She pulled off a piece and stuck it in her mouth. “Oh my god, it tastes exactly like I remember. Want some?”
“I’ll pass,” I said.
The sun was sinking lower and the carnival lights were coming on. We walked slowly while Brooke picked at her cotton candy. I checked my phone and had a text from Charlie.
Charlie: Sorry to bail. I’m over it with her. Took her home. I’m done. For real this time.
“I think Charlie broke up with Kimmie again.” I tucked my phone back in my pocket.
“Really?” Brooke asked. “Do you think it’ll stick? Or will he go running back next time she texts for a booty call?”
“I hope it’s finally over,” I said. “I don’t know why he’s let it go on this long.”
“I don’t know either,” Brooke said. “Maybe the familiar is easier than the unknown.”
“Yeah, very true,” I said, but I wasn’t going to worry about Charlie too much. He’d figure it out.
I wondered if Brooke would talk more about her mom if I asked. I wanted her to let me in—to know she could trust me.
“So, was the last time you went to a fair like this with your mom?”
“I think so. I must have been eight or nine. It was during one of those rare times when she was single.” She paused and put another bit of cotton candy in her mouth. “I, um, I don’t know who my dad is, and my mom was almost always with some guy.”
She glanced over at me, her eyebrows drawn together, like she was worried. I just smiled.
“Anyway, she… god, I can’t even tell this story without getting into all my mom’s bullshit.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, I’ve told you my mom was an addict. She was wasted, like, a lot. But once in a while, she’d go through a short sober period. I don’t remember why this one happened. Sometimes it was like she really wanted to try, so maybe that’s all it was.”
We walked out toward a group of picnic tables and sat.
“Things were always so much better when she was sober,” Brooke continued. “She’d take care of me like a normal mom. I didn’t have to worry about making her mad all the time. And she’d actually do things with me, like the fair. We went and I just remember walking around and hearing all the noises and seeing all the lights. She must have spent a fortune playing games, trying to win me this pink teddy bear. She did, and I kept that thing for years.”
“What happened to it?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “I guess I outgrew it, and I’m not sure what happened to it after that. Probably lost one of the times we moved.” She pulled out another wispy puff of pink and set it on her tongue. “She never bought me treats, but that day I guess she wanted to go all out. Maybe she was spoiling me to make up for all the shitty stuff she did when she was drunk or high. I wanted cotton candy, so she bought me some. She let me have the whole thing all to myself. It felt like such a big deal.”
“When was the last time you saw her?” I asked.
“I was seventeen,” she said. “She moved and I didn’t go with her. She called me a year or so later. Said something about being in Louisiana and I should come live with her again. I said no, and I haven’t heard from her since.”
I wanted to touch her—hold her hand or caress her cheek—but I didn’t. “I’m sorry. That’s really shitty.”
“It’s for the best,” she said. “She’s my mom, and I’ll always love her. But I couldn’t save her. I wanted to. For a long time, I wished I could be enough to make her want to get better. I don’t know where she is now, but I hope someday she gets the help she needs.”
I reached over and pinched a bit of cotton candy between my fingers. It was soft, but gritty. A little bit like Brooke.
“Me too,” I said.
She stuck out her pink-stained tongue. “I don’t think I can finish this. Do you want the rest?”
“No, I’m good,” I said.
“We should go on some rides.” Her eyes lit up but her smile faded quickly. “Wait, can you go on rides? Because of… you know.”
“Yeah, I can go on rides,” I said. “There’s actually not much I can’t do.”
“Really?” she asked. “You can do pretty much anything?”
It felt weird to talk about my heart. We didn’t very often. And the way she said pretty much anything made me wonder what she really meant. Although I was kidding myself if I thought she meant sex. Obviously she wasn’t thinking about that. Even if I was.
“Yeah, I don’t have many restrictions,” I said. “Mostly things with big pressure changes, like scuba diving. I can’t fly in a small plane because of the unpressurized cabin, or go hang gliding. But that’s about it.”
“Wow,” she said. “It seemed like there was more.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, you’re just always very careful,” she said. “That’s good, don’t get me wrong. I figured it was because the doctors had given you a long list of things that were off limits.”
“No, I’m in good health, so I’m free to live how I want for the most part,” I said.
“That’s good.” She gazed at me for a few seconds. What was she thinking? Then she blinked and her smile was back. She looked past me, her eyes focusing on something. “Oh my god. What about that one?”
I looked where she was pointing. It was a huge contraption that looked like a human slingshot. A two-person seat was strung on thick cables between a set of four poles. I watched while a couple got strapped in. The seat bounced and swayed a little as the cables went taut. Then an air horn blew and the seat launched straight up, shooting past the height of the poles. The seat rocked and turned over as it fell. The tension in the cables kept it bouncing up and down, until finally the seat was lowered and the couple stumbled off, laughing and high-fiving each other.
“You want to go on that?” I asked.
“Did you see how fast they flew up?” Brooke asked, her voice filled with awe and excitement. “Have you ever been on it before?”
“I’ve never even seen it,” I said. “It must be new.”
“Let’s do it,” she said.
“I don’t know
if I should.”
“You just said you can do pretty much anything,” she said. “It’s not like it goes as high as an airplane. Come on, Seb. Live a little.”
It was probably stupid for a twenty-four-year-old man to worry about what his mother would think, but that was the first thing that came to my mind. My mom would faint if she found out. But Brooke was right. I was far enough out from my surgery that I had very few restrictions. I could go on it.
“Please?” Brooke asked. She bit her lower lip and scrunched her shoulders.
Like I could tell her no when she looked at me like that. “Fuck. Okay. Let’s do it.”
“Yes!”
She grabbed my hand and half-dragged me to the ticket booth. I was having second—and third and fourth—thoughts as we waited our turn. Watching the thing launch again, closer this time, made me wonder what the hell I was doing. How could I knowingly put myself in danger like that?
Before I knew it, I was in the seat, strapping myself in. The over-the-shoulder harness almost didn’t fit. It pressed against my chest when it locked into place, but the compression made me feel a little better. I glanced over at Brooke and she grinned.
“Ready?” she asked.
Before I could answer, the horn blared and we shot into the sky. The air whooshed by so hard it made me feel out of breath. Adrenaline coursed through my veins and my heart beat fast. My stomach dropped as we fell and bounced upward again.
But it felt fucking amazing.
For a brief moment, I felt free. Brooke screamed and laughed, and I let the exhilaration wash over me. Embraced the fear. Turned it into excitement.
We soared up and down for a while before they lowered us back onto the platform and the ride attendants helped us out. My legs felt wobbly and Brooke had to lean against me for a few seconds before we walked down the short set of stairs.
Brooke’s hair was windswept, her cheeks flushed. I loved it when I got to see this side of her—when the light in her eyes drove out the sadness. I knew it was temporary, so I’d enjoy it while I could.
His Heart Page 15
