by Rye Hart
I smiled as Stephanie told me all about Caroline’s grand plans. That sounded exactly like Caroline. When we knew each other, she was unsure about her future. Her parents were always pushing her toward marriage, constantly pairing her up with the sons of their rich friends. It was disgusting.
Deep down, I always knew Caroline would rebel. She had an artistic soul that longed to be free. I was just happy she finally realized what her true passion was in life.
“Why hasn’t she opened it yet?” I asked.
“Money,” Stephanie said simply.
“Her parents?” I asked.
“She won’t take a penny from them,” Stephanie said. “She says she doesn’t want them to own her.”
I grinned and nodded, prouder than ever.
“I want to invest,” I said suddenly. Stephanie’s head snapped up to meet my gaze. I could tell she thought I was kidding but the steely glint in my eyes told her I wasn’t.
“You do?” she asked.
“I do,” I said with a nod. “I know Caroline. She’s smart and she’s talented. More talented than anyone I’ve ever met. Even before she knew what she wanted, she exuded creativity. This would be perfect for her.”
“I agree,” Stephanie said. “But—”
“I just want to help her, Stephanie,” I said. “If this is what she wants out of life, then I want to help her get it.”
Stephanie considered me for a second, her eyes searching my face for some sign of insincerity. She didn’t find any. My intentions were nothing but honorable. Caroline’s idea was great, and I wanted nothing more than to help her bring it to fruition. While she looked at me, Stephanie realized how serious I was and a small smile crept across her face.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN - CAROLINE
Later that week, I was on yet another blind date. Despite my separating from them, my parents continued to fix me up with eligible bachelors. Typically, the guys were related to powerful business men who worked with my father. Dad always tried to make sure he provided me with a plethora of wealthy men to choose from. Somehow, I could never see past their connection to my parents. Even though most were nice and some even seemed marginally romantic, I never felt anything for them. Not once.
Tuesday night, I was on a date with Nicolas Marks. His father worked with mine and we’d seen each other in passing at multiple events. Still, this was the first time we were officially introduced.
“Hi,” I said as I walked into the restaurant. Nicolas was waiting for me right by the door. He smiled and extended his hand for me to shake. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“I feel like we’ve already met,” Nicolas said with a kind laugh. “Our families have been circling each other for years.”
“I suppose they have,” I said, a strained smile on my face.
“Well, shall we?” Nicolas offered me his arm and led me toward our table.
He was a gentleman, going so far as to pull out my chair and ask me what I wanted to drink so he could order it for me. Everything he did was sweet and caring. As we ordered our meal, I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Nicolas was nice, sweet, and cute. My body didn’t ignite at the sight of him but I thought, maybe, he was worth a real chance.
As the evening progressed, Nicolas asked me countless questions about myself. He seemed genuinely interested in my art degree, asking why I left Yale for a lower rated university.
“I felt more at home there,” I said honestly. “Yale was amazing. Of course, it’s the dream for most people but for me, it just wasn’t. I knew immediately that I wanted something different. It wasn’t until art school that I really discovered what I wanted to do with my life.”
“That’s amazing,” Nicolas said, though I wondered if he meant it. “I wish I had the courage to do something like that.”
“What do you do?” I asked politely.
“I work for my father,” Nicolas said. “It’s great, though. I’ve been around the business my entire life, so I already know my way around the place. Everyone treats me with so much respect. It’s awesome.”
I smiled but felt myself being slowly turned off. It wasn’t uncommon for my blind dates to work for their fathers. In this world, everyone remained in the family business. It shouldn’t have surprised me but still, I couldn’t help but become disinterested.
“That’s wonderful,” I said without meaning it. “What about in your free time?”
“I love to travel,” Nicolas said. “I’m actually going on a trip to Argentina in a few weeks.”
“Wow!” I said, my interest coming back. “I’m jealous!”
“Yeah,” Nicolas said with an excited nod. “I can’t wait. The company is sending me on my own for the first time and—”
I tuned out as he continued to explain his reason for the trip. When he said he loved to travel, I thought he meant for pleasure. While he droned on and on, I found it hard to keep myself focused on his words. Then, he pulled me back in with another question about myself.
“What are your dreams?” he asked softly, leaning forward as he if he wanted to make the moment more intimate. “What do you want out of life?”
“Well,” I said. “I’m hoping to open my own art gallery one day soon. Right now, I work at one but I’d like to own my own.”
“How will you make that work?” he asked, his voice turning professional. “I mean, competitively. What will your gimmick be? Your hook?”
“I want to add a café,” I said simply. “It’ll be an art gallery and a café combined. I’ll bring in live music and things like that.”
I wasn’t doing a great job of explaining my idea but it didn’t matter. I already knew this would probably be my first and last date with Nicolas Marks.
“You know,” Nicolas said thoughtfully. “I have a buddy who works over at Blue Diamond Bank. I could talk to him about a line of credit, if you wanted.”
It was a kind gesture but the thought made my stomach churn. Nicolas was just being nice but it felt like yet another person trying to buy me. If he managed to convince his friend to give me a loan, what then? Would I be obligated to date him? And if I didn’t, would he then pressure his friend to halt my loan? Would I lose everything simply because I wasn’t interested in Nicolas?
“That’s so kind of you,” I said, my voice sickly sweet. “But, I just don’t think I could put you in that position.”
“Oh, it would be nothing!” he insisted. “Darren is a good buddy. He’d do it just as a favor to me.”
“I know,” I said, nodding. “And that’s so generous but I think this is something I really need to do on my own.”
“Well, just keep the thought in mind,” Nicolas said. His face fell slightly, and I could tell he was disappointed.
The rest of dinner progressed quickly. We didn’t have much to talk about after the subject of a loan died away. Nicolas once again told me stories about his job and how excited he was to get more responsibility. I knew these stories were probably golden with other women but for me, they fell flat. I’d spent my entire life around guys just like him, and I just wasn’t impressed.
We said good night and went our separate ways, promising to talk soon. I already knew I wouldn’t see him again. At least, not romantically. Nicolas seemed like a truly nice man but I simply could not see myself dating him. He just wasn’t the kind of man I imagined myself with.
As I drove home, my thoughts turned to the one man I ever saw a future with. Dean Evans never left my mind or my heart. No matter how far I’d come since that summer, I still couldn’t shake my memories of him. Dean was my first love and after him, I never met another guy who inspired or attracted me.
I would never forget everything Dean did for me. He pushed me out of my shell, forcing me to make a decision about my own life. For the first time, I rebelled against my parents when I dated him. After that, I never stopped wanting freedom. Dean gave me my first taste of a life all my own and ever since, I’d been striving for just that.
Still, it hurt to remem
ber him. Thinking about the last time I saw him brought tears to my eyes. After all these years, it was still hard to picture him in that prison. His eyes were so dark that day, so defeated. I knew his words to me were all lies but that didn’t take away the pain. I cried in that parking lot for hours, just trying to find the strength to move on.
When I left that day, I thought I had, but I was wrong. Not even two weeks later, I found myself right back at the prison. I stood in line for admission to the visiting area only to find that Dean wouldn’t see me. I begged the guards to let me speak to him but they refused, saying it was up to Dean to decide. No matter how many times I sent the guard back to ask, Dean kept refusing. After that, I left for Yale and hadn’t seen him for seven long years.
Still, his face stood out clearly in my mind. As I pulled up to my apartment and climbed the stairs to my front door, I saw his blue eyes swimming before me. Even in my memories, they were so beautiful that I longed to press my lips against him. It physically hurt to think about him but I’d grown used to the pain over the years.
I laid in bed that night, remembering everything.
“Please,” I cried to the guard. “Just ask him one more time. Please.”
“He doesn’t want to see you,” the guard said, a hint of pity in his voice. “I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is.”
“Does he know it’s me?” I asked. “Caroline Michaelson?”
“He knows,” the guard said for the tenth time. “He knows and he still said no. I’m sorry, but it’s time for you to leave. Just go home.”
“I can’t just leave!” I cried. “Not without seeing him. Please!”
“Miss,” the guard said, his voice firm. “Is this the life you really want for yourself? Take my advice, go home. Go back to your old life, okay? Dean Evans is gone. The man you knew is gone.”
The guard’s words echoed through my mind even years later. As I curled myself around my blankets, I heard them over and over again like a mantra. Those were the words I held on to for seven years. “Dean Evans is gone. The man you knew is gone.”
Maybe the guard was right. Maybe Dean was no longer the man I knew. It wouldn’t have been crazy to believe prison changed him but still, I held out hope. Even after he was released, I secretly wished he would come find me. I prayed he would run to me, apologize for breaking my heart, and tell me how much he still loved me. I hoped so hard that I managed to convince myself it would really happen.
It didn’t. Instead, Dean left town, and I never saw him. Not once in seven years. Now I was forced to live the rest of my life with nothing more than a memory to hold on to.
As I fell asleep that night, I pictured Dean lying beside me. His arms were around me as he whispered soft “I love yous” in my ears.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - DEAN
Dr. Henfield’s office was cold and clinical. My mother and I walked in on Thursday morning, both shivering from the temperature and our nerves. I hadn’t yet seen Daniel today and my mind was with him as I sat down to await Dr. Henfield’s news. He walked through the door with a professional smile on his face, nodding to us as he moved to sit behind his desk. With a folder in his hands, he sighed and looked up at us, a look of disappointment in his eyes. Before he spoke, I knew what the answer would be.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Neither of you is a match for Daniel.”
“How?” Mom asked, tears brimming in her eyes. “I’m his mother, shouldn’t I be?”
“As I explained to you before, Ms. Evans,” Dr. Henfield said kindly. “A parent isn’t always a match. We usually look for a sibling but Dean didn’t match either. I’m very sorry.”
“What do we do now?” I asked. My heart was pounding, and I felt my stomach cave in, but I pushed forward. There was no use in falling apart. Daniel still needed me he still needed me to be strong.
“He’s still on the donor list,” Dr. Henfield said, his tone reassuring. “I’m not confident we will find a donor in time but there is a chance. In the meantime, if you can think of any other family members who might come forward, that would be best.”
“We don’t have any other family,” I said. “It’s just us.”
Dr. Henfield nodded. With a sigh, he shook his head and once again expressed his apologies. I knew it wasn’t his fault but I still felt a surge of anger as I watched his face. He was the doctor, why the hell couldn’t he do more? My brother was fucking dying and this guy was just sitting here, staring at us.
“What are the chances that another family member will be a match?” Mom asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
“The same as with you and Dean,” Dr. Henfield said.
Mom nodded and listened while Dr. Henfield continued to speak. I tuned them both out, unable to listen for another second. When the meeting ended, Mom and I stopped by Daniel’s room to see him. He was sleeping, so we didn’t stay long. I drove Mom home in silence.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asked.
I nodded. She smiled but I saw that her hands were trembling. When she jumped out of the car and hurried toward the front door, I knew she would be buried inside a bottle within the minute. For the first time in my life, I didn’t blame her. As I pulled out of the driveway, I too longed for the numbing effects of alcohol.
It didn’t take me long to find a bar that was open. It was lunchtime and there was a grill in town that had a bar inside. I parked and hurried through the doors.
“Table for one?” the hostess asked.
“No,” I said. “Just the bar.”
She nodded and gestured behind her. I hurried forward, eager to get a beer in my system. When I stepped into the bar area, I froze. There, sitting at the bar beside Stephanie, was Caroline.
My entire body felt hot as I took in the sight of her. Her blond hair was shorter now, falling just below her shoulders. It fell in easy curls like always, and in that moment, I remembered exactly how it felt to run my fingers through it. From where I stood, I could see her profile and my eyes trailed down her perfect body. Even after all these years, I still felt my dick twitch when I saw her.
I swallowed hard and glanced around. It had been seven years since the last time I saw Caroline. I didn’t know what to do. Should I talk to her? Should I just leave? My heart was pounding in my chest as I tried to think of something. I couldn’t move. My feet were cemented to the floor and my eyes were locked on her face. I could see the brilliant blue of her eyes, and I immediately lost myself.
Suddenly, it was seven years ago, and we were back in that abandoned cabin. Caroline was naked beneath me, her gorgeous tits calling me to her. My dick rubbed against her wet core, and I searched frantically for a condom. When I was ready, I lowered myself down to her entrance, eager to slide inside her.
Back then, we were interrupted by a phone call from my mother. Now, standing in that bar, lost in a fantasy, nothing interrupted us. I pushed my rock-hard cock inside of her juicy pussy and felt my entire body tremble with need. Caroline gasped as I filled her and soon, her gasps turned to moans of pleasure. I took her right there on that cabin floor, pounding against her with a gentle force that sent waves of ecstasy through my body.
I could practically hear Caroline cry out my name when I made her come. Her nails dug into my back, and I took her harder, watching her tits bounce in rhythm with my thrusts. In my mind, I fucked her senseless that night. When I came, it was with a rush of love and adrenaline that I’d never felt before. I saw myself collapse on top of her perfect body, both of us drenched in sweat.
By the time I snapped back to reality, Stephanie noticed me. Her eyes locked on mine from across the bar and she smiled nervously. Waving me over, she leaned forward to whisper in Caroline’s ear.
Caroline’s head spun around, her eyes finding my face. I tried to take a step forward but I couldn’t move. Her gaze held me in place as fireworks went off in my head. Just looking at her was enough to make me remember everything we’d had. I could feel the passion and the heat between us, even fro
m across the bar.
Finally, I cleared my throat and pushed myself forward. The closer I got, the more nervous Caroline became. She seemed scared when I finally stepped in front of her. I glanced at Stephanie who was just watching us with rapt attention.
“Hi,” I said weakly.
I trailed off, not sure what to say. Caroline watched me closely but didn’t speak. I could tell she was thinking, and I wondered if she wanted to leave. Stephanie probably told her I was back in town but that didn’t mean she expected to see me today.
“Why don’t you sit down?” Stephanie said kindly. “I’m going to run to the ladies’ room.”
“Stephanie,” Caroline said, shooting her best friend a warning look.
“I’ll be right back,” Stephanie promised.
With that, she jumped up and hurried away. I laughed nervously and sunk on to Stephanie’s abandoned barstool. Caroline smiled and shook her head.
“She’s not very subtle,” Caroline said.
“No,” I agreed. “She’s not.”
“Can I get you a drink?” the bartender asked.
“Just a beer,” I said. He nodded and poured me a draft. As I took a sip, my eyes found Caroline’s face again. She was watching me closely, an emotion I didn’t recognize brewing behind her eyes.
