Since Drew

by J. Nathan

I tried to don a happy face and drink enough wine to numb the pain and confusion caused by Drew’s unexpected appearance, but nothing worked.

  Halfway through the meal, I slipped away to the restroom and pulled out my phone. I knew what needed to be done. If I had any chance of getting over it—of moving on—I just needed to do it. I stared down at the blank screen for a long time before I finally typed out a text. I wish it didn’t hurt so much to be around you.

  I waited, staring down at my unanswered message, wondering if he’d even bother to respond. Seconds later, a text came back. It hurts me more knowing you hate me.

  Before I’d let myself feel sorry for him, my fingers went to work. I don’t hate you. I just don’t think I can forgive you. I waited, this time with my heart pounding.

  I know.

  I dropped my head.

  Why did everything with him have to be so freaking hard?

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I’d spent the week since graduation either at physical therapy or parked on my sofa watching mindless television. My parents had returned to their quest to save whales, and it wasn’t like I could go anywhere easily with my driving foot in a boot. It took all my effort getting to therapy, since I obviously rejected Drew’s offer for homecare. And while I knew I could go out with Logan’s help, I wasn’t all that fun to be around.

  I flipped through the television stations looking for something to help me fall asleep—something I’d been struggling with. Go figure. I’d avoided ESPN for fear of talk of the Olympics, but tonight it wasn’t the Olympics that had my eyes glued to the screen.

  “The nineteenth pick in this year’s draft is Troy Winters,” the man on television announced.

  I wondered if Drew had already been selected. Or, if he’d withdrawn like he’d wanted to. Come to think of it, maybe this Drew never even considered entering the draft. It wasn’t like I’d know. I’d barely gotten to know him.

  I closed my eyes, trying to stop my mind from caring about the draft. Caring about Drew’s future. Caring about Drew period. Maybe I was just curious since he was someone I knew. Someone I shared experiences with. Someone I…

  My eyes snapped open.

  That was it.

  I grabbed my phone. I needed to be out of my condo. Away from the four walls closing in on me. Away from the reminder of Drew showing up at my graduation. Away from the constant ache in my chest. It. Was. All. Too. Much.

  “Miss? You sure about this?” the taxi driver asked from the front seat, hesitant to leave me where I’d requested. He thought I was nuts, just like Logan when I told her where I was headed.

  I handed him my cash over the seat. “I’ll call you when I’m done.” I scooted over and pushed open the door. With only a few feet to go to reach the guardrail, I hopped to it, careful of my booted foot.

  Was I crazy?

  Of course.

  That had been established weeks ago.

  Darkness surrounded me as I sat down on the dented metal. With my feet on the road, I twisted toward the ocean. The coastal breeze whipped my hair around as the waves crashed on the shore, violent and destructive, much like my mind.

  I thought back to all the choices I’d made. All the decisions that got me to this place. All the what-ifs. What if I hadn’t gone running that night? What if I hadn’t ended up on this stretch of road? What if I’d joined my parents in Antarctica? What if I got to race? What if I lost and didn’t make it to the Olympics after all?

  “Take a walk with me.”

  My entire body lurched forward as my head flew around. Drew stood with his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans, his head lowered. My eyes jumped around. “Where the hell did you come from? Did you follow me?”

  He shook his head.

  “So, what? You’re psychic now?”

  He shook his head again.

  “You have your very own Andi GPS?”

  He titled his head, eyeing me seriously.

  “Logan told you I was here?”

  “Logan told Avery and he told me.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Well, at least we got them talking.”

  “Not really. She texted him,” he explained.

  “Figures.” I huffed out a breath as I looked out at the deserted road, bending and disappearing into the darkness as it had the night of the accident. “I’m still not walking on my own.”

  “Where are your crutches?”

  “At home.”

  He shook his head, clearly dismayed by my decision. Without warning he moved closer, scooping me up like a bride on her wedding night.

  I yelped. “For the love of God.”

  “I thought you like it when I carry you?”

  I threw my arms around his neck for support. “Liked.” I tried not to think about the last time he carried me that way. But being naked and headed for the shower was kind of tough to forget.

  Ugh.

  Drew inched his way along the guardrail for a few more yards until we reached an opening and a set of weathered wooden steps. He took them one at a time, carefully bringing us down to the beach. I figured he’d have difficulty once we reached the sand, but he tread just as easily with me in his arms as he had the last time he carried me on the beach.

  My brain searched unsuccessfully for something to say as it worked to process what was transpiring. Was I angry? Flabbergasted? Happy? “Please put me down.”

  “In a minute.” His eyes focused straight ahead on the closest lifeguard chair.

  “Oh no way in hell are you getting me up there.”

  He gave me the look. The one with the lifted brow that warned not to challenge him. We reached the base of the chair. His eyes drifted up it. “Hang on.”

  I closed my eyes and tightened my grip around his neck. I wished I didn’t feel so safe in his strong arms. The ones responsible for so much pain. The ones that should’ve been slipping on a football jersey for the entire world to see. They extended as he gripped the steps, cautiously climbing to the top. He pivoted, then slid me smoothly onto the seat.

  I opened my eyes, relieved to have made it in one piece. I focused on the dark ocean, so fierce and powerful under the light of the full moon. Though it was difficult to remain focused with Drew so close and his hip pressed against mine, I kept my eyes locked on the tide and the ebb and flow of the waves slapping upon the shore in even successions. “Any idea how you’re getting me down?”

  “Nope.”

  “That’s reassuring.” My mind whirled, wondering how long I could feasibly sit up there and say nothing now that I was pretty much stranded with him.

  A long time passed as we sat lost in the power of the ocean. The unyielding roar of the waves. The overpowering brininess in the air seeping down into every pore. The peacefulness of it all.

  “I never thought I’d come back here,” Drew admitted, snapping me back to reality.

  “Me neither.”

  His head turned toward me. “Then why are you here?”

  I lifted my shoulders then let them drop. Hell of a question.

  “Can I tell you why I am?”

  I could sense his eyes boring into the side of my face. But honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the truth. It held the power to gut me more than I’d already been gutted. I latched onto the waves, refusing to look at him, no matter what he said.

  “You,” he explained. “I’m here for you. Because you deserve the truth. And you deserve someone willing to always give you the truth.”

  Of course he had to go and say that.

  “I told you I was a screw-up and that football became my outlet. But what I didn’t tell you was my outlet became my biggest nightmare. People wanted to know me. Wanted to be around me. Wanted my fame—or whatever it was—to rub off on them.”

  I could feel him shaking his head incredulously.

  “Who knows? They probably never even liked me.”

  The smartass in me itched to say something, but my anger and hurt superseded it.

  “The better I got, the m
ore recognition I got. Which meant the more recognition my parents got. It’s what got them connected with their business partners and subsequently made them their millions. And they fucking loved it. It’s what they always wanted. The money. The attention. The notoriety of being Drew Slater’s parents.” He laughed a humorless laugh. “But the crazy thing is, I don’t think they ever really loved me.”

  I would not feel sorry for him. I would not.

  “Football was no longer something I loved doing, it became something I needed to do for everyone else. It no longer kept out the demons. It brought them out of the woodwork. The night of the accident, I felt like I had no choice. I was going into the draft no matter what I wanted. My parents’ business was failing. They were relying on me to get the big paycheck. My hometown was relying on me to put it in the spotlight. Some of my friends even planned their futures around following me all over the country.” His grip tightened on the edge of the seat. “I know it sounds selfish, but I didn’t want everyone relying on me. I wanted to get my degree, move to a small town where no one knew me, and start a new life. But everyone was making that impossible. So. Damn. Impossible. I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t focus anymore.”

  I finally turned to look at him. His eyes were locked on the ocean as he lifted his hands and tunneled his fingers through his dark hair.

  “That night, I just needed to breathe. I drove for miles—hundreds of miles—all the way from Duke. And in that split second when I saw the guardrail in front of me, I saw a way out. I don’t know if I planned to end it or just hurt myself enough to be out of the draft, but I closed my eyes and floored it.”

  A giant gasp stole my breath.

  He turned to me, his eyes ferociously honest. “I never saw you, Andi. I swear. I knew I hit something other than the guardrail, but God, I couldn’t have known it was you. I didn’t know it was you.”

  The air punched out of my lungs at the realization that he’d purposely caused the accident. He’d purposely hurt himself. He’d purposely hurt me.

  God dammit.

  I needed to go. I needed to climb down on my own and run far away. But I was trapped. Trapped next to the one person I needed to be away from. I turned back to the shore wishing I could un-hear what I’d heard. Wishing I could erase the last month. Wishing the circumstances that brought us together could’ve been innocent. Not this. Not this screwed up drama that proved too insane to even make up.

  “I don’t know what else to say.” His voice was pained, desperate even.

  I paused for a long moment, knowing there was nothing he could say. Nothing he could do. The damage had been done. “Thank you for being honest with me.” They were my words, but I had no idea how I even managed to get them out of my mouth.

  He nodded, but his face became tortured, making me wonder if he’d expected more. Expected me to forgive him. Expected me to forget. “Tell me how I make this better. Tell me what I need to do. Tell me how I don’t lose you.”

  I swallowed around the boulder-sized knot in my throat, knowing there was nothing he could do—nothing anyone could do—to make it better.

  Before I could say anything, words shot out of his mouth. “I miss you.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to shield myself from the pain in his voice. The desperation in his words. The indecision swirling inside of me.

  “And I know I hurt you—God, I know I fucking hurt you. And I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry. But I promise you, it’ll never happen again.”

  My anxiety kicked in. If ever I were going to have a panic attack, this was the time.

  “I’m staying this summer,” he continued. “I want to be nearby if you need me. You can rely on me. I’ll prove it to you. And then maybe, just maybe, if you ever forgive me, I’ll be here.”

  Shock waves washed over me. “Drew—” I wasn’t sure if it was a plea for him to stop or just my own pain laced with confusion.

  He shook his head. “Don’t say anything right now. Just know I’m here for you. Only you.”

  My head swam, totally unequipped to deal with what was happening. The bass drum pounding methodically in my chest told me I wasn’t okay. None of it was okay.

  The roar of the ocean enveloped us as we remained in that chair for a long time. Silent. In our own heads.

  Could I forgive him? Could I overlook the pain he’d caused me? Could I forget the dreams he’d taken from me?

  If it were Logan, I’d tell her to quit whining and get over it. But it wasn’t Logan. It was me. How the hell was I supposed to get over it when I couldn’t even wrap my head around the madness? I’d been through hell, God dammit, and still couldn’t walk—forget about run. That entitled me for at least a little while longer.

  Maybe if it had been a true accident—an awful twist of fate—I would’ve been able to get over it. I would’ve been able to let it go. But he did it purposely. And then didn’t tell me.

  Gahhhhh.

  I held so much bitterness inside of me. I felt such resentment toward him. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I’d explode from the weight of it.

  I’d never get over it. I knew myself.

  I stared up at the moon, so full and bright like a spotlight above us, wishing the circumstances that brought us together could’ve been different.

  Why couldn’t they have been different?

  “So, you missed the draft.”

  Drew nodded.

  My eyes cut to him. “That’s good.”

  His eyes flashed to mine. “Yeah.”

  “How’d your parents take it?”

  “I’m staying alone at the beach house, so…” He shrugged as though that said it all. He’d known the risk of going against their wishes. I was surprised they even let him stay there—if they knew he was there.

  I rubbed my hands up and down my bare arms, trying to warm them as the chilly night air quickly crept in.

  “Come on. It’s cold out here,” Drew said. “Let me get you home.”

  I shook off the offer. “I’ll call a taxi.”

  He studied my face. “Seriously?”

  “How do you think I got here?”

  He shook his head. “You’re coming with me.”

  * * *

  I stared out the passenger window of Drew’s truck at the streets surrounding my neighborhood. I wanted to ask him if this was “the truck” or if it was a rental. But the thought of drudging up more pain seemed useless. I glanced to Drew’s face, lit only by the headlights of passing cars. Neither of us uttered a single word. Because, really? What more was there to say?

  When he pulled to a stop outside my building, I grabbed hold of the door handle, hoping for a quick escape. But Drew had already hopped out and circled the front of his truck, meeting me at my open door. He offered his shoulder, letting me rest my weight on him. I was surprised he didn’t try to carry me again. Maybe he wanted to show me he believed in me. Believed I was strong enough to take care of myself. Regardless, he walked me to the front door. Once I’d opened it, he released his hold.

  Strange thoughts invade your mind when you sever ties with someone. Thoughts of the past. Of your decision to end it. Of the future that would never be.

  I stared down at the pavement, finding it difficult to meet his gaze.

  Drew took a step back. “Just know, I meant every word I said.”

  My eyes lifted as I nodded, believing him wholeheartedly. Unfortunately, that didn’t change anything.

  Without another word, he turned and headed back to his truck.

  I limped my way inside the building, failing miserably at looking confident and in control. When I reached the elevator, I let out the deep breath I’d been holding and forced myself not to look back.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  A week had passed since that night on the beach. Drew hadn’t tried to contact me. I assumed that was him leaving the ball in my court. But the longer time passed and we didn’t speak, the easier it became to forget about him. Not the pain he created. What had bee
n growing between us. I needed to hate him. I needed to hold onto that anger. I needed to hold him responsible. Because if I didn’t, what did I have left?

  I hobbled down to the front of my building, knowing my taxi would be arriving to whisk me off to physical therapy. My leg felt stronger. I could walk solely on the boot and no longer required crutches. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, I glanced to the right. A small girl walked a cute little dachshund. To the left—

  “Hey,” Drew greeted me, leaned up against my building in a ball cap pulled down low.

  Ummm. “What are you doing here?” And in a hat? Did he know it was my weakness?

  “Just making sure you got to physical therapy on time.”

  I stared at him. “Logan?”

  He shrugged, unable to hide the guilt written all over his face.

  “I’m going to kill her,” I grumbled under my breath, knowing full well he could hear me. “Well, thanks anyway, but the taxi’s on its way.”

  He pushed off the building, taking one step closer then another. Soon he stood right in front of me until all I could do was look up into his eyes. “How’s the leg feeling today?”

  His nearness unnerved me. As did the pull his body had on mine. “Getting stronger.” My taxi pulled up to the sidewalk. Thank God. “This is me.”

  He nodded. “I’m around every day. I’d be happy to drive you.”

  I shook my head. “I’ve got it covered.”

  I shuffled forward, but he purposely blocked my way. “I probably should’ve said, ‘I’m around every day, and I want to drive you.’” The seriousness—make that determination—in his voice and the sincerity in his eyes floored me.

  Flutters invaded my belly. Traitorous, unruly flutters. “Um.”

  He stepped out of my way. “I’ll take ‘um.’”

  “No, I didn’t…I just…can I let you know?”

  He nodded, like it was more than he expected me to say. “Absolutely.”

  My lips shifted into a sad smile. “See ya.” I opened the door and slid into the backseat of the taxi with my heartbeat pounding in my head.

  Drew didn’t move, just watched until the driver pulled away.