by Unknown
“No, let me tell her. I just . . . we can’t tell her here. What if she gets mad?”
“Why would she care?”
I cleared my throat, remembering my talk with Kara. Did Preston know that she thought he would hurt me? I drew a breath. “She thinks you might, you know, hurt me.”
“Me? She said that?”
I could see the hurt flash across his face. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I think she’s just afraid that you’ll ten-day me.”
His eyebrows threaded together in confusion, then understanding followed. “Oh.” He bit his lip. “Are you afraid that I’ll ten-day you?”
I thought about his question for a moment before answering. “A little bit.”
Preston ran a hand over my hair. “You’re the one who said no titles, no definitions.”
“I did.” But I didn’t mean it, I wanted to add.
“Then what are you afraid of?”
I closed my eyes, wishing more than anything that I had more strength around him. But how could I be strong and fake composure, when he knew I saw a therapist? When he had seen my scars? “I don’t want this for just ten days or three months or whatever. I don’t want . . .”
He tilted my chin up so I was forced to look at him. “What?”
“I don’t want to share you.”
“You haven’t had to share me since we met. I tried to deny it, tried to find another way. You were so closed off, and I didn’t think you were interested, but then I found you sitting on my bed that day, looking like you belonged right there, in my world, and the rest no longer mattered.”
The sound of laughter from the ramp reminded me that we needed to get out there, but I had to know, I had to ask. “But why haven’t you had a relationship? What happened?”
Preston stepped back, closing himself off. “I don’t want to talk about that right now.”
“Then how will I know for sure?”
He considered me, waiting, and then said, “My high school girlfriend had an abortion. Without telling me.”
Instantly, I felt sick inside. I expected him to tell me someone had cheated on him or there was an issue with affairs in his family. Not this. “So, the pediatrics . . .”
“I never even knew she was pregnant. She was the person I trusted the most in the world and she didn’t even trust me back. I never got the chance to decide if I was ready. I know that it was a big decision for her, but it was big for me, too. It was the biggest decision of my life and it was taken from me.”
I laced my fingers into his. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I thought . . . I don’t know what I thought, but I’m sorry.”
“I told myself after that I would never get into another serious relationship. And I haven’t . . . until now.”
My eyes lifted to his.
“So, no, you don’t have to share. As long as you want me, I’m yours.”
A smile spread across my face, and I leaned in to kiss him, just as Ethan burst into the room. I clenched my eyes shut. Shit.
“Uh, hey,” he said, a smile in his voice. “I . . . Kara was asking . . . I’ll just go back the way I came.” He closed the door behind him, and I rested my head against Preston’s chest.
“Freaking perfect,” I groaned. “Now everyone here knows except Kara. It’s going to look like we’re hiding something from her.”
“I couldn’t really give a shit what Kara thinks.”
My eyes shot to his. “What was that?”
He looked away. “Nothing. I just meant she’s my friend. She doesn’t dictate my love life.”
I studied him, sensing something deeper, but not wanting to ask. Had Kara been friends with Preston’s girlfriend? I wondered if she had known and kept it from him. Crap, I can only imagine how hard that would have been on their friendship.
I nodded to him. “Okay. We can tell her whenever. It’s fine.”
“Good. Then that settles it.”
“Wait, settles what?”
Preston led me out of the boathouse and down the ramp to where Trent and Ethan stood fishing and Kara sat tapping her foot to the music playing through the dock’s outdoor sound system. She beamed when she saw me. “Hey! Where were you? I was afraid you got lost or something.”
“Oh, no, we were just—”
“Doing this.” Preston pulled me to him and pressed his lips to mine, holding me to him, so I couldn’t push him away.
I stumbled back once he released me, shooting him a death glare.
“What? You said you wanted to tell her. Now she knows,” he said with a smirk before going to join the guys.
My cheeks burned as I peered over at Kara. “Well, yeah. We were kind of doing . . . that.”
Her eyes were wide and she didn’t respond for a moment, then she shrugged. “All right then. Come sit down”—she patted the space beside her—“and tell me exactly how you let that asshat win you over.”
I grinned, loving Kara all the more. I sat down beside her and hung my legs over the side of the dock. “He is an asshat, isn’t he?”
“I can hear you, you know?”
We laughed, and then just like that, everything was easy again.
Chapter Twenty-Three
We remained out on the dock until the sky turned dark, the sun setting over the trees, the air colder and easier to breathe.
Preston set down his pole and walked over to me. “You’re cold,” he said.
I shrugged. “I’m okay.”
He stripped off his flannel shirt, leaving him in nothing but a fitted white undershirt, the smooth, taut lines of his chest and abs exposed through the thin fabric. I tried my best not to ogle him and failed miserably.
“Damn, dude, you’re making me look like a piece of shit boyfriend,” Ethan called.
Preston’s eyes remained on me as he handed me the shirt. I took it from him and slipped my arms inside, immediately melting into its softness and its scent. Preston. I breathed him in and immediately felt heat radiate through me, pooling low in my stomach, urges and wants returning deep inside me. My eyes found his. Did he know the effect he had on me? Our eyes locked and I wondered how I would survive sleeping in the room next to his when I wanted to be in his bed. He seemed to be thinking the same thing I was, but then Kara cleared her throat from beside me, breaking our trance.
Preston walked back over to the guys and Kara peered over at me. “I haven’t seen him this way in a long time. Maybe ever . . .” Her voice trailed off and she stared out over the lake.
“Hey,” I said, knocking her leg. “This doesn’t change anything, you know? He’s still your best friend. You’re still mine.”
She smiled at me. “I’m your best friend?”
“Well, it’s a tie between you and Rose, but since I pay her to listen to me, I’d say you’re winning.”
Kara wrapped her arm around me and hugged me close. “You’re my best friend, too. You and Preston. So, if ya’ll could try to not make out in front of me, that would be awesome.”
I laughed, and Preston called over, “I’ll make no promises.”
A cowbell rang from the house, and I twisted around. “What was that?”
Kara grinned. “That’s dinner. Mrs. Riggs has rung that bell since we were little. It’s her way of telling us to come in to eat.”
“It sounds like you practically lived here.”
She nodded slowly. “I did. We grew up together.”
Preston reached out a hand to help me stand and then pulled me to him as he helped me up. He kissed my temple and laced his fingers into mine. “Ready for the best meal of your life?”
We made our way into the house, and immediately my stomach grumbled in appreciation. The smell of savory sauces and complex spices hit my nose, and I groaned in satisfaction. “Oh my God, that smells amazing.”
Preston leaned into my ear. “
I’m not going to be able to contain myself if you do that again.”
I grinned, prepared to give him a soft kiss just as Mrs. Riggs rushed into the dining room. Her eyes zeroed in on Preston and me, and then to our linked hands. She squealed loudly. “I knew it! I knew it!”
“Mom . . .” Preston sighed.
“Okay, I won’t say anything. But”—she squealed again—“this is just so wonderful.” She came over and gave me a hug before motioning to the table and telling us all to sit.
I fidgeted uncomfortably and eyed Kara for support, but she wasn’t meeting my gaze. Suddenly, I questioned our decision to tell her. Maybe we should have waited. Preston sat down beside me and patted my knee. “Mom’s like that,” he whispered. “Don’t worry, she isn’t going to make you uncomfortable.”
“It’s fine,” I said, smiling.
I glanced back at Kara, hoping for some indication that she was okay, to find her attention on Ethan, who was laughing at something on his phone. He typed a text and then set it back on the table, a smile still on his face. I peeked back at Kara, who looked like she might cry. Uh oh, this wasn’t good.
“So, how is Georgia?” I asked Ethan, eager to pull him back into the present—and hopefully back to Kara. I had been so distracted by Preston and the change in us that I hadn’t noticed whether Kara and Ethan were okay. They seemed okay when we first arrived, but then out on the dock, Ethan kept fishing with the guys, never even coming over to talk to her once.
“Good,” he said. “The program is a little overwhelming, but I’ve made some nice friends, which helps. I miss this one, though. I’ve even looked at transferring.”
Kara’s head snapped up. “You have?”
“Of course. I hate being away from you.”
“Aw.” She leaned over to kiss him, just as Mr. and Mrs. Riggs came into the room.
“No kissing at the dinner table,” Mr. Riggs said, eyeing them. His tone was hard, but the look on his face said he was only half serious. They put down the food, which looked like something out of a magazine, and then we dove in.
“So,” Mr. Riggs said after several minutes of eating, “what are you studying at Charleston, Olivia? I would have thought your father would have you at Columbia.”
I took a drink of water. I could do this. I could talk about Columbia. “I’m studying Comparative Literature. I hope to become a professor. And I was actually going to Columbia, but decided I wanted to stay closer, so I selected the College of Charleston instead.”
He nodded his head, and while I sensed he wanted to ask more, he didn’t pry. “I’m sure you heard about Preston’s career decisions.”
I drew a breath. There was no winning here. “I did. I think it’s wonderful that he wants to help children.”
Preston kept his eyes locked on his plate, while the rest of us waited for his father’s answer, but it was Trent who spoke up. “I agree. It would have been easy for him to join the family business. But he wants to do more. I can admire that.” Preston glanced up at his brother, clearly taken aback, and Mr. Riggs opened his mouth to reply, when Mrs. Riggs piped up.
“Clark, I could use some help with the cobbler.”
“But I—”
“The kitchen. Now.”
I smiled a little at how quickly Mr. Riggs followed his wife’s orders, and then once they were gone, turned to Preston. “Are you okay?”
“I’m ready to get the hell out of this house.”
“Just one more day,” Trent said. “Try to keep your mouth shut for one more day. For Mom.”
Preston nodded, drawing a long breath. “Thanks for what you said. Even if it was just to keep him quiet. I appreciate it.”
“I was serious, man. I do admire what you’re doing. Standing up to Dad. Doing your own thing. I could never do that.”
Preston shrugged. “Yeah, well, you’ll see how long I’m able to keep it up.”
“He’ll get over it eventually,” Trent said. And then Mrs. Riggs returned with dessert.
We settled into an easier conversation during dessert, and then before long it became late. Mr. and Mrs. Riggs went on to bed and Kara went to walk Ethan out to his car.
I started up the stairs, Preston behind me, when he took my hand and kissed my palm. “The offer still stands if you want to stay in my room.”
I thought of his parents downstairs. “I don’t think so. Your mom likes me right now.”
“She wouldn’t know.”
“And Kara . . .”
“Kara is being Kara. Ethan is a great guy. Besides, he knows I’d kick his ass if he hurt her.”
I turned to face him. “That’s sweet.”
He walked closer. “Ask me what I would do if someone hurt you.”
I ran my hand slowly over the side of his face, enjoying the rough feel of his late-evening scruff. “You would defend me, huh?”
“Oh yes.” He leaned in, his breath warm against my lips. “I don’t want you to ever be in pain.”
My eyes dropped. “I don’t think I’ll ever know what that feels like. Never being in pain.”
Preston reached for my left arm, and I reflexively pulled it away. “You don’t have to hide from me.”
I swallowed hard, at a loss for what to say next. How could I explain that I hid my scars for myself as much as I did for anyone else? I hated the look of them, the feel when I accidentally touched them. I opened my mouth to tell him, when I heard the front door close and gently pushed him back. “Kara’s coming. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.”
He nodded and went on to his room, glancing once more at me before stepping through the door. “Offer is open.” And then the door closed behind him.
I went on into the room I was sharing with Kara, desperate to be near him again, but knowing that Kara needed me right now. I changed into my long-sleeve T-shirt nightgown and waited for her to come in. A few moments passed, and then the door creaked open.
“Hey,” I said. “Are you all right?”
She shook her head and sat down beside me on the bed. “We just can’t seem to get on the same page anymore. He thinks . . .” She trailed off, running a hand over her face. “I should change. I’m exhausted.”
I reached to stop her. “Kar, you can talk to me, you know.”
She focused back on me, considering. “You remember how I told you I had a serious boyfriend before Ethan? Well, Ethan told me tonight that he thinks I’ve never gotten over him.”
“Have you?”
“Yes, absolutely. I think he only brought it up to throw something back at me. I was riding him about that new friend of his. The girl.”
I hesitated. “Preston said that he thought Ethan was a great guy. That he wouldn’t hurt you. He even said he would kick his ass if he did.”
Her eyes lifted. “He did?”
“Of course. He’s your best friend. He isn’t going to let some guy hurt you.”
She nodded. “Right.”
Kara and I climbed into bed, and she talked until after midnight before finally saying she was tired and falling asleep. I waited until I could hear her breathing slowly, and then grabbed my face wash and toothbrush and quietly tiptoed out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom. I took my time, knowing that after I closed the door and walked back down the hall I would be making a decision. I’d either be a good girl and keep going, climb into my bed and fall asleep. Or I would stop at Preston’s door, knock, and open my heart for the taking.
I closed the bathroom door, telling myself that I would go on to bed, but then I heard music playing quietly from Preston’s room. I leaned in closer to the door, listening to the rough, slow melody. It made me so acutely aware of his presence that I just stood there, listening, unsure of what to do next, and then without thinking, I lifted my hand to the door and tapped easily against the wood, part of me praying he wouldn’t
answer, the other part begging him to let me in.
A second passed with nothing, and I stepped away, disappointed, when the door opened and then he was there in the doorway, wearing nothing but pajama pants. My gaze drifted greedily over his chest, down his ripped abs, and then to the small trail of hair that pointed down like an arrow, tempting me below. I forced my eyes to return to his face.
“Hi,” I whispered, not trusting my voice to remain steady at full volume. He tilted his head, his eyes burning into mine, and reached out to take my hand. He led me silently inside and closed the door behind me, his eyes roaming from my breasts to where my nightgown hit at the tops of my thighs. Tension ignited in the dimly lit room.
Nervous, I took the opportunity to scan his room, comforted by how very Preston it felt. From the deep olive duvet to the cherry bookcase to the fact that there wasn’t a TV. I walked over to the bookshelf to see which books were the most worn.
“I thought you were asleep,” he said, stepping up behind me.
I let my fingers trace the ragged spine of The Great Gatsby. “I was talking with Kara until she went to sleep.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, Ethan told her he thought she still had feelings for some ex-boyfriend. Do you think he’s right?”
Preston pressed his chest flush against my back and ran his fingertips over my shoulders and down my arms. “I think I’d rather not talk about Kara right now.”
I turned in his arms, edgy but too drawn to him to remain still. “Then what do you want to talk about?”
He leaned in closer. “I’d rather not talk at all.” And then his mouth closed over mine, his hands gripping my back. I ran my fingers through his hair, my heartbeat racing, as he walked us over to his bed. He laid me down and peered at me. “We can stop.”
“No . . . don’t stop.”
His eyes dropped to my bare legs, open, waiting for him. He lowered himself over me, his body heavy steel against my softness, securing me in place, and then all thought was gone, replaced by the feel of his lips on my mouth, my neck, my chest, my breasts. I released a low moan, unable to stop myself, as he ran his hand down my stomach and inside the thin fabric of my panties. His fingers teased the delicate flesh there, sending me over the edge, making me desperate to feel him inside me. I gripped his pajama pants, sliding them down at the same moment that he removed my panties. He grabbed a condom from his nightstand, tore it open, and then he was over me again, his eyes on mine as he ran his fingers through my hair. He gave me one more questioning look, but my decision was made the moment I stepped inside his room. I pressed my lips to his in answer, and as he thrust inside me, everything in me—all guilt, all pain, all worry—was diminished by the brightness of that moment. I held on to him as though he were all I had in the world. As though he were all I needed. I had never felt so complete.
