You Were Always Home (Homecoming #3)

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You Were Always Home (Homecoming #3) Page 2

by C. Lymari

“I was a total bitch to you.”

  “Come again?”

  “In high school.” I was surprised at how steady my voice sounded when, on the inside, I felt like I was trying to stay still against an earthquake. “I was a total bitch to you because I freaked out. If it weren’t for my dad and the pressure he put on me and my brothers, I would have loved nothing more than going on that date with you.”

  I took a deep breath before I started slurring my words. Man, this whole honesty thing was exhausting and fucking scary as hell.

  Still, I kept going.

  “What I said to you, I didn’t mean it, not a single word. I didn’t like the person I was, and I certainly didn’t like the person I was after that—but I’m trying to do better now.”

  Jake stood statue-still and silent. It wasn’t like I expected him to ask me out again or maybe not fully forgive me, but I also didn’t expect him to blow off my apology.

  “Take care, Jake.” I turned around and left before I could make a bigger fool of myself.

  2

  Juliet

  Sophomore Year

  When I walked into the art class, I had been expecting to find something a little more exciting. Electives didn’t go by grade, so I was excited to see people outside my year grade. The small room was in the basement, and the only light came through the top windows on the left wall. Since there weren’t many students, the teacher had arranged tables of two so we could have more space. Dad wasn’t happy with my elective. After all, art wasn’t anything productive. I could have another honors class, but… Art, he’d scoffed. What good would that do me? It was the first time I’d done something for myself. It was only sophomore year. I was already co-cheer captain with Abigail and captain of the volleyball team—which I hated—and ran track in the spring. I did all the things that made me look good on paper.

  Mrs. Boyd was the most chill teacher at Sunny Pines High, and she didn’t assign seats. Since I was a disaster with anything artistic, I sat in my desk observing my manicured nails that I got done every two weeks an hour away from town. People started to walk in, and they’d take one curious look at me and then take a seat somewhere else. Couldn’t say I blamed them—I had an icy personality. I’d learned from an early age people wanted me for my money. The only girl I trusted was Jana. She’d been my best friend since sixth grade. Abigail was just like me, but if I was icy, she was an inferno. She lived to watch people burn. The only one she couldn’t make melt was my brother Max.

  When the bell rang, I wasn’t all that surprised I was on my own. Guys gave me a head nod, and girls waved at me. I might be a sophomore, but I was a Dunnett. My brother Prescott was king. Max was everyone’s golden boy. And I was just Juliet, too pretty, too rich, too stuck-up for her own good. Usually, I didn’t listen to what people said. I had Jana, and that was more than enough for me.

  “Sorry I’m late, Mrs. Boyd,” a gruff voice said, and my skin prickled.

  Everyone in class craned their neck to see Jake “Bear” Carson. My brother might be king because of his money and good looks, but Jake was more. He wasn’t straight-laced and preppy like Prescott; he was rugged and square-jawed, with a light scruff on his face. He didn’t look like boys his age. And don’t get me started on his build. It was hard not to notice him on Friday night games.

  “Please don’t make it a habit, Jake,” Mrs. Boyd called out as Jake strolled in carrying a folder and notebook with a number two pencil behind his ear.

  He grinned at the teacher. I swear I even saw her blush.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied in a cocky tone.

  He scanned the room, and there was one other chair empty all the way at the front. I was leaned back in my chair with my arms folded and my legs crossed. I knew his decision was made the second I felt his hot gaze at my back. The smell hit me first, like peppermint and pine tree; then he dropped his notebook on the desk next to mine. It was hard not to turn and look at him, but I’d had to deal with people staring at me since I was young, and I was used to it.

  “Okay, now that everyone is here, we can start. If you would like to move, do it now or else they become your permanent seats.”

  I guessed Mrs. Boyd had a new policy this year. A few students moved. A senior girl who I’d seen at the house a time or two coming out of Prescott’s room smiled coyly at Jake, but he didn’t move.

  “Guess we’re partners, Dunnett.” He tapped my desk with the eraser of his pencil.

  Slowly, I craned my head to look at him, using my red hair as a shield. He was stunning in a way that I wasn’t used to. My brothers were all polished. Jake was not—and I liked that. I wasn’t surprised he knew me; I would have been offended if he didn’t.

  “Seems so, Jake,” I replied.

  Jake gave me a grin full of mischief, and my stomach trembled. I was in trouble. And I didn’t say that lightly. I wasn’t bad to look at—throwing my fine clothes, my red hair, and money all together, it was intoxicating. Jake was intoxicating in his own way.

  “Didn’t think this was your type of thing.”

  “Should I be flattered that Jake Carson thinks about me?” I batted my eyelashes at him. A part of me couldn’t believe I’d done that. I was lucky I didn’t blush, but after years of crafting my bitch face, I had made an art of the stoic look. It kept people away.

  “Should I be flattered the pretty redheaded cheerleader goes wild for me at games?” Jake leaned back in his chair, giving me a full-blown grin and a smirk that was going to be my downfall. I just knew it.

  I didn’t respond, mostly because I knew he was bullshitting, but there were times when I watched him taking an opposing team member down, and I would yell his name at the top of my lungs. You could say we hung out in the same circles, but I was a sophomore and he a senior, so that was as far as our friendship went.

  “Cat got your tongue, Dunnett?”

  Before I could answer, the teacher put a blank canvas in front of each of us.

  “I want you to paint me your life. I want to see your world as you see it. I want to know who you are… This will be your final.”

  I stared at the blank parchment and found it refreshing. To do with my canvas as I pleased, to leave it bare or to add colors as I saw fit. Something blank for me to find out through trial and error whether I liked something my dad had no say or sway over. There was something so freeing in having a clean slate to do whatever you wanted and to do with it as you wished. I wished my life could be like that free, to be painted in the colors I wanted. Vividly, bright and wild. Sadly, the canvas of my life was not for me to do with as I wished. There were rules, and I was expected to follow them.

  Jake was drawing on his canvas, and I had yet to start on mine.

  “You going to be at Gary’s party?” he asked.

  Gary was Abigail’s brother and he had redone his parents’ pool house into party central, and since it was winter, it was perfect since it was cold as shit outside.

  “I have a fundraiser to attend with my mother.” My voice came out clipped.

  Jake didn’t say another word, but I felt him watching me in class. My life was rather dull. My family’s priorities came before myself, and I was beginning to grow tired of them. Prescott and Max got more leeway than I did. Where Mother went, I was expected to follow.

  When I finally grabbed blue paint to smear on the canvas, Mrs. Boyd told us to start cleaning up. I had gotten three icy-blue lines. So much for doing something productive. Good thing we had till the end of the semester to finish this project. Turning over the canvas, I did my signature, something I had perfected since I was in middle school.

  “Here, I’ll take them.” Jake extended his hand toward me. I gave him a droll look. I didn’t need his help, but it still warmed me. I handed him my painting and waited patiently for the bell to ring. When it did, everyone ran out. Jake and I were the last ones to walk out.

  “You’re a little uptight, Dunnett.” Jake opened the door for me and laughed when I glared at him. “A bit of
an ice princess.”

  My glare intensified. I loathed that nickname.

  “It’s cool, though. Ice melts, and then it’s just… wet.”

  Before I could formulate a coherent thought, he was gone. No guy ever dared say anything like that to my face because they knew I had the power to end them. Not Jake Carson. I didn’t like what he said to me, but I also wasn’t repulsed by it. I looked up to watch him go, and as much as I was fascinated by him, a guy like Jake Carson wasn’t for me.

  3

  Jake

  The snow was beginning to fall already, and pretty soon the whole town would be covered in white. Every year, I told myself I wasn’t going to look at the kiosk, and every year, I failed. I hated the memories it brought me. I hated that, after all these years, I still loathed the sight of the kiosk covered in snow and decorated for Christmas. I didn’t like looking at it in summer and fall, but winter and spring were the worst.

  When I walked into Emma’s Coffee, it was crowded as usual. It used to be busy, but ever since the place started renovations to turn it into a diner, it got packed with people getting their greasy breakfast orders in.

  As soon as Freya saw me, she screamed, “Bear!”

  She came running out from behind the bakery side. Well, attempted running since she was trying not to slip in those damn heels of hers. I didn’t understand how chicks wore heels when there were salt balls and melting snow outside. And clearly, it was something I shouldn’t have been wondering about since immediately my mind wandered to Juliet Dunnett and the way she looked last week when she came to buy paint.

  To say I was shocked as hell to see her didn’t begin to cover it.

  My first response to seeing her was to toss her judgmental ass out of my family’s store, but then I reminded myself that business was business and you didn’t have to like your customers, but you still had to be courteous.

  Juliet was the type of beautiful you knew you could look at but couldn’t afford to touch. And damn, if I didn’t want to touch her back in the day. She was a sophomore my senior year; we’d had art class together. She couldn’t draw for shit, something I used to tease her about. Juliet wasn’t like girls her age; she was different.

  At least I thought so.

  Our teasing turned into banter, then flirting and, on my part, dirty comments that would turn that porcelain skin of hers red like her hair. I’d never had problems getting with any girl in town—chicks flocked to me—so when Juliet turned me down it stung. Not because I was shot down by a sophomore, but because she was a snobby bitch and I’d failed to see that.

  She wasn’t my friend—we never shared secrets—but there was something between us, something that never was, but at the same time, it was enough to stay with me all these years. Juliet didn’t break my heart, but she did do a number on me. What she’d said to me followed me to college, and when things hit the fan with Brooke, it was Juliet’s voice I heard over and over again.

  “Hello, earth to Bear!” Freya was waving her arms furiously in front of me, taking me out of my thoughts.

  I leaned down to hug her. “Max isn’t going to threaten to kick my ass if he sees us?”

  Maximilian Dunnett was Juliet’s older brother, and he was also Freya’s man. He was her everything, and everyone in town knew it. Max was a mess after Freya left town, but when Freya came back, it was just a waiting game to see who would crack first.

  Unlike Juliet and her other brother, Prescott, Max was a stand-up guy. He was the only one in that family who hadn’t bullied Freya when she was younger.

  “Bear!” I felt Freya’s small fingers pinch my cheek. “What’s wrong? You’re out of it today.”

  Freya’s concern was written all over those brown eyes. That was just the kind of friend she was, even if she tended to meddle. Truth was, I respected the hell out of Freya. She’d taken the blame on some stupid shit we did in high school, and because of that, I didn’t lose my scholarship. It was a miracle I got it after my week suspension. Now that was something I regretted.

  Shaking my head from past memories, I replied, “Nothing, just some stuff.”

  “Come with me, my little one.”

  I turned to raise my eyebrow at Freya, but she just took my arm and led me toward the blackboard. It was better to do as she said before she tried to hook me up with a random woman again.

  Freya stopped right at the black wall and spread her arms at the writing. “All you have to do is look upon the wall and you shall have your answer. Right, Emma?” Freya started screaming across the room to where Emma was busy preparing coffees. “This thing is even better than a fortune cookie!”

  “This is coming from the chicks who confused a coyote with a werewolf,” I added dryly.

  “That was all Emma.”

  “It’s your fault! You’re the one who dragged me into the woods! I had to buy a new cell phone,” Emma bickered back. Before Freya came to town, Emma was shy, reserved, scared of her own shadow, but Freya brought her out of her shell. Well, her and Dex. It was nice to watch. To appease both of them, I looked at the blackboard and read the quote of the day.

  If it doesn’t burn a little, then what’s the point of playing with fire? -Bridgett Devoue.

  Was it me or was the blackboard telling me to finally fuck Juliet Dunnett out of my system? I mean, I already got burned once, and it wasn’t like I liked her. Sure, I wanted to fuck, and scratching that itch would be satisfactory if Max didn’t find out.

  Jesus Christ, listen to me.

  “It’s magical, right?” Freya asked with a stupid grin on her face.

  “It’s something, all right,” I mumbled, keeping my conclusion to myself.

  No way was I ready to admit that even after Juliet humiliated me, I still wanted to stick my cock in her. While I waited for my coffee, Rusty walked in looking like a zombie. I guessed that was what happened when you became a father. His little girl was about to be two months old.

  “Bear.” Rusty patted my back, then gave Freya a one-armed hug.

  Man, my boy didn’t look good. His eyes looked swollen and red. Guess there goes that saying kids really did suck the life out of you.

  “Dude, you look like shit,” Freya said.

  She could say shit like that to Rusty. Although they weren’t related, they’d grown up together and were closer than some siblings.

  “I have a crying machine at the house. I’m not exactly getting my beauty sleep. Jana said to fix her some magic and some breakfast. Here I am, so Emma can fix her some magic and get some breakfast to go. Do you know what would help, Gabby? If only we had a godmother who would come lend a hand,” Rusty snapped at Freya.

  Emma giggled, and I laughed.

  “Dude, your wife is a fiend when it comes to your baby. She gets all twitchy if someone else grabs her, and her eyes bulge out trying to read your mind. It’s not like I’m going anywhere with little Faye. I barely grab her and Jana’s all, ‘You’re holding her too low, Freya. Freya, the baby’s propped too high. Freya, don’t forget to support her head. Freya, are you sure you’re not going to drop her? Freya, she’s not even two months—you can’t sit her like that.’” Freya did her best to mock Jana. “Your wife doesn’t trust anyone. I’ll wait a couple more months until her crazy goes down a bit.”

  Everyone who heard started laughing.

  “Later, dude. I’ve wanted to stop by, but I might just wait till Jana is more restrained. Also, can I still go on Saturday? Got to change the oil on my car,” I told Rusty.

  “Dude, you don’t even have to ask. I’ll save the last stall for you.”

  I nodded at Rusty. Not that I didn’t trust his guys, but there was something satisfactory in working on your own car. “Bye, Em. Freya.” I grabbed my coffee and waved goodbye to Dex, Emma’s boyfriend, who had just walked in.

  JULIET

  The last time I had to get an oil change was… never. I had my father’s or my husband’s people take care of it.

  I was a grown woman. I could do this.


  I can do this.

  Easier said than done, right? Parking my car in the only auto garage in the county, I cursed my luck. It was packed. Did people not have anything better to do on a Saturday morning?

  I’m strong. I am fierce. I am a new me.

  Once I was inside, I made my way over to the teenager at the counter. He looked oddly familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

  “Hi.” I smiled at him, hoping I no longer carried that vapid rich-bitch smile.

  He looked at me up and down and then said, “Hey, Juliet.”

  Okay, weird. I didn’t know him, but I didn’t let that creep me out or anything. It was all part of being a Dunnett. People thought they knew you when they didn’t.

  “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  This time, my smile was weak and maybe a little cringey. “Sorry.”

  “I’m Ian, Jana’s—”

  “That’s right!” I cut him off before he could keep going. “Oh my, you’ve grown up. And look at you—Ian, you’re so handsome, I bet all the girls are crazy about you.”

  At my words, the poor kid blushed furiously. Feeling better at the situation, my shoulders relaxed.

  “Is there a chance that I could get an oil change?” I gave him my best smile and might have offered him my puppy dog look. The last thing I wanted was to go home disappointed.

  He told me to wait while he went and checked to see if someone was available. Meanwhile, I pretended to look at the flyers that were on the desk while I acted like everyone’s eyes on me didn’t bother me. I was too unapproachable sometimes. At least it felt that way. People sure loved to look and make assumptions, but very few approached me. The ones who did were usually trying to kiss up to me.

  He came back and said, “Take your car to the last stall.”

  I hurried outside and sighed in relief, glad that someone was looking at my car. The oil light had turned on two months ago. At first, I hadn’t come because I didn’t have enough money, and then I was mentally preparing myself to walk into a place I had never had before. Rusty was Jana’s husband, and my friendship with Jana hadn’t ended on the best terms. I shook my head, trying not to think about that mess. Driving my car to the last stall, I wondered if this was normal for me to bring my own car. I knew nothing of real-world stuff, but I always figured you waited in the waiting room and gave the keys to a worker. Looking at the setup, I smiled to myself; it was a clinic for cars.

 

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