by Ward, Tamryn
“He needs me.” Feeling the loss of his touch, she crossed her arms over her chest. Dammit, why did this guy affect her so much? Why?
He shrugged. “Sure. But if you continue like this, shoving all your hopes and dreams aside for him, you’ll end up regretting it someday.”
She didn’t know what to say about that. She wanted to deny it, but something inside her told her he was right.
Aeron reached for her again, and her heart skittered in her chest. But he jerked his hand back before it made contact with her. “It’s great that you love Logan so much. He’s lucky to have you. But even he wouldn’t want to learn that you’ve set everything you wanted aside for his sake. He would want you to find your own happiness too.”
“You’re right about that,” I agreed, reluctantly.
“Promise me you’ll register for school.”
“What?” School? Where was this coming from? Hadn’t they just been talking about going out with friends? Taking a little time for herself?
“You love writing. I get that. But it isn’t what you want to do for the rest of your life. Is it?”
She’d almost convinced herself that it was. Almost. Then she remembered her other passion, her true passion. Still, she couldn’t help defending her writing, “Writing that stuff isn’t a bad way to make a living.”
Aeron nodded. “Of course not, but you want more. Logan told me you want to be a journalist. You want to travel, to see the world.”
She dismissed what he was suggesting with the wave of a hand. “That would be great, but that dream was before. Logan—“
“Logan won’t need you forever.” Aeron caught her wrist and held it fast. “When he’s grown up, it’ll be too late. You’ll be too old. Go to school. Go to college.”
“I didn’t graduate.” She stared at his fist, encircling her wrist.
He let go. “Take the GED.”
“I’m going to. Someday…”
“Take it soon. Take it tomorrow.”
A nervous giggle bubbled in her belly. “I can’t do that. I can’t take it tomorrow. I haven’t studied yet. And I’m pretty sure you have to register—“
“Do it. Don’t let anything stop you. Please,” he said, his voice full of emotion.
“Why does this matter so much to you?” she asked. “Why does anything I do matter to you?”
“Because.”
“Because why?” She pushed, hearing the hurt in her own voice. Why would he talk about her future, as if it mattered to him? It didn’t matter. Soon he would be gone, and she would still be here, wondering where he was, who he was with, if he might ever come back. And that was the way he wanted it. Him. Not her.
“Because I don’t just care about Logan,” he said so softly she almost hadn’t heard him. “Jennifer, I care about you too.”
Her gaze snapped to his.
He meant those words. She could see the truth in those dark, sad eyes of his. He didn’t want to leave any more than she wanted him to.
For some reason, that made her a little angry. “Maybe you should take some of your own advice, stop living your life for someone else. Your boss.”
“I wish that were possible. You have no idea how much.” His eyes became even darker as his emotions played over his face. Longing. Regret. Frustration. Maybe even anger. He jerked backward. His gaze flicked toward the kitchen again. Cojack, who was still cradled in his arms started squirming. “Tomorrow? You need me to stay with Logan tomorrow?”
“Yes.” She peered over her shoulder. No, Bobby hadn’t crept in. But the conversation was over. That much was clear. She had crossed the line. But she didn’t give a damn. She was angry too and frustrated.
“What time?” he asked.
“Can you be here by six o’clock?”
“Sure.” He pushed open the storm door and stepped outside, twisting as he exited. “See you at six tomorrow.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
For the briefest of moments, she wished Bobby was staying with Logan, so she could go out with Aeron. But she obliterated that thought after entertaining it for no more than a handful of seconds. She had never been the type of girl who pined for the guy she couldn’t have. She wasn’t about to start doing that now. Correction, she was done doing that. As of right now.
Done.
She slammed the door.
Done!
“Wow, that little brother of yours can eat a lot,” Bobby said as he came from the kitchen at just the right time. “He ate two sandwiches. Two. And they weren’t small.”
“I guess it was the fresh air and exercise that made him hungry. Normally he picks at his food.”
Bobby returned to his spot on the couch, scooped up his guitar and started strumming some chords.
Watching him, she said, “I can make it to your gig tomorrow. If you still want me to come.”
“Yes, of course I want you to come.” Setting his guitar aside, he motioned her to come to him. An uncomfortable feeling flashed through her. Responding to it, she motioned to the kitchen. “I…need to check Logan’s homework.”
Feeling more confused than ever, she hurried to the kitchen, knowing she might be able to hide her conflicting emotions from Bobby for a while, but sooner or later he’d figure it out.
And then what?
Would he leave?
Only a little longer. That’s all I need. Just long enough to file the papers.
* * * * *
An hour later, she had just made herself comfortable upstairs with a book when she heard the knock on the front door. A quick check of the clock told her it was a little late for it to be her caseworker or the UPS delivery guy. Was it Aeron?
A quiver raced through her. It had to be.
With heart thudding in her chest, she scampered down the stairs, meeting Bobby in the foyer. “I’ll get it,” she told him. Obediently, he lifted his hands and stepped back. A smile stretching across her face, she opened the door.
Her heart stopped.
That wasn’t Aeron.
Mrs. Tate looked at her then at Bobby and then at her again. “Hello, Miss Reynolds. May I come in?”
“S-sure.” Struck dumb for a split second, Jenn stepped back to let the case worker inside.
Mrs. Tate continued to the living room, her eyes wandering everywhere. Fortunately, the room was tidy and neat. She couldn’t find any fault with it. “Am I to assume this is your cousin?” she asked before turning to Bobby. “Do you have some identification, sir?”
“I do.” He pulled out his wallet, extracted his driver’s license and handed it to her.
“Robert Fuller,” she read aloud while copying the information into her notebook. After returning his license to him, she flipped through a few pages of her file. “Your mother’s name is, Jean Hodson.” She emphasized the last name.
“My mom remarried,” he reasoned. Quick thinking on his part. Jenn had to give him points for that. Though it also gave her reason to worry. Any guy who could lie that easily had to be trouble.
“I see.” The caseworker scratched some notes then nodded. “May I see where you sleep?”
“Sure.” Bobby eyed Jenn before motioning to the stairs. “It’s this way.”
Really? This woman was going to do an inspection? She was going upstairs?
Oh God, what if she talked to Logan?
Logan didn’t lie. Logan would tell Mrs. Tate everything.
Jenn couldn’t let that happen.
All three of them tromped up the steps and paraded to the guest bedroom. The room was in slight disarray, the bed unmade, clothes strewn about. But Jenn was relieved to see that Bobby had unpacked most of his things. A few boxes sat on the floor in one corner of the room.
Of course, Mrs. Tate saw those boxes right away. “Are you packing to leave, Mr. Fuller?”
“Yes,” he said, sliding Jenn a glance. “My cousin will be eighteen soon. I was told she wouldn’t need my assistance anymore.”
“That’s only i
f the judge determines she is fit to care for her younger sibling. There is a procedure to follow, sir. A process.”
“That’s all right” he said. “I can stay longer if needed.”
Mrs. Tate gave a little grunt and scrawled some more notes in her little notebook. She took another glance around then asked, “And where does Miss Reynolds sleep?”
“I’m down the hall.” Jenn motioned toward her room before leading them all in that direction. Thanks to having just been lying in bed, reading, there could be no mistaking the fact that her bed was in use. The covers were thrown back, the decorative pillows tossed here and there.
“Okay.” The case worker seemed satisfied. “And Logan? Where is he? I haven’t seen him.”
Logan.
Jenn’s heart rate kicked into double speed. “He’s…in his room.”
“I would like to see him.”
“Okay.” Feeling a little short of breath, Jenn led the woman to Logan’s shut door. Being as quiet as possible, and hoping Logan was asleep, she twisted the knob and pushed open the door.
Logan was in bed, his head facing the opposite wall.
It was a miracle. Logan was sleeping. Before his bedtime.
“Sleeping,” Jenn whispered.
The woman’s lips thinned. “I see.” She didn’t write any notes. She didn’t move away from the door either. Jenn stood there, hoping she wouldn’t wake him to ask questions. Praying she wouldn’t wake him.
The prayers worked.
The woman gave a quick jerk of her head then clomped toward the steps. “Very well. I’ve seen enough.”
Jenn exhaled the breath she’d been holding.
Bobby exhaled too. She heard it. They exchanged a smile then followed the case worker down the steps.
They’d done it. They’d convinced the woman everything was okay. There were only a couple more days left. Surely a judge wouldn’t take Logan from her now.
Right?
At the bottom of the steps, Jenn asked, “You mentioned there was a process for making me Logan’s legal guardian? What would I need to do to get that process started?”
“You need to file a petition for legal guardianship. But, as you know, you cannot do that until you are eighteen.”
“Of course,” Jenn answered. “How long after that would it take for the judge to make a decision?”
“It depends.” The woman shoved her notebook into her bag. “There would have to be an evaluation, to determine whether you have the means to care for your brother.”
“Oh, I can. I have a steady income—“
“There’s more to it than that, Miss Reynolds. Much more.” Buttoning her coat at the front door, the woman gazed around the space. “I’ve been working for the Department of Human Services for over thirty years. Only once have I seen the judge award custody of a minor to an adult sibling. That sibling had a college degree, a home, a fair amount of money in the bank and a good, reliable income. You…? Do you have an education? Money in the bank? Reliable income?”
She had that last one, kind of. One out of three wasn’t bad…she hoped. Then again, did she really have that third one? How reliable was her income? Would a judge feel as confident as she did about the reliability?
Oh God, could she still lose Logan, after all?
Go to school. Aeron’s voice echoed in her head.
Maybe that was what she should do. Go to school. Prove to the judge that she was thinking about the long term, not just tomorrow, but next year and the year after that.
School. Yes. She needed to get started as soon as possible. And with minimal income, she would probably get plenty of help with tuition.
But she had to get her GED first.
Could she do that in a week? A month? Six months?
Whatever length of time it took, she prayed she wouldn’t lose Logan. She would do anything to keep him with her. Absolutely anything.
Jenn said, “I’m going to be taking the GED as soon as possible and then enrolling in college.”
Mrs. Tate jerked a nod. “Very well.” She didn’t write it down in her notebook. “I’ll be providing the judge with my report soon.”
“Thank you.” The second Mrs. Tate left, Jenn went for her computer to look up GED testing. Bobby trailed behind her, reassuring her that he wouldn’t leave until custody of Logan was settled.
He was being very understanding. Very.
As she scoured the internet for answers, he sat beside her. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure Logan goes nowhere. I promise.”
She looked up from her computer screen. “Thank you, Bobby. I had no idea it might drag on longer. I swear.”
“It’s okay. I kind of like being here. Living with Sax wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.” He looked down. “All the parties and the girls and the craziness got…a little old after a while. There were nights when I went to bed early just because I didn’t want to deal with it all…and I…I screwed up with you. Royally. I’m just glad I have this chance to make it up to you now.”
Her eyes were burning. Seeing Bobby like this, vulnerable and honest was pulling all sorts of emotions to the surface.
Admiration.
Respect.
Gratitude.
There was hope for their friendship. Real hope for it.
As far as the other, a romantic relationship, that wasn’t out of the question anymore. Already she could feel the little tingles of attraction skittering through her body. But she was still scared. If she let down her guard and he hurt her again, she might never trust another man.
Ever.
Shit. What should she do? Trust her instincts and give Bobby another chance? Or not?
On the surface, it seemed the old Bobby was back, the one that she’d know back then, when they were in love. Was this the real Bobby?
Or was it the other one, the selfish one who walked away when she needed him most and didn’t look back for over a year?
How could she know?
Fourteen
She’d forgotten what it felt like to be young and wild and free. She’d forgotten how the heavy bass thrummed through her body and how the flashing strobe lights made her head spin, and how thrilling it was to watch Bobby standing on stage, playing, singing, looking so confident and sexy.
A year ago, when she’d been in love, Jenn used to dance on the packed floor, knowing Bobby watched. Back then she had felt his eyes on her as her body moved to the music. And she would get so hot, so aroused by it all, even though he couldn’t even touch her.
And now...the throbbing beat was pounding through her once again. She glanced up. His gaze was sharp, focused. On her. His expression was tight.
She knew that look. She knew it well. Bobby Fuller was on the verge of losing control.
A little quiver of excitement raced through her. She smiled.
He licked his lips as his fingers danced over the fingerboard of his guitar.
This song was like a mating call to her. The beat. The melody. The lyrics. She couldn’t help responding. Every cell in her vibrated.
When it ended the band left the stage. The set was over. She felt the loss immediately, and once again alone, she meandered toward the backstage door to find Bobby.
He met her there, at the door, grabbed her hand and yanked her through.
She squealed in surprise. And when he slammed her against the wall and trapped her head between his outstretched arms, she gazed up into his dark eyes and nearly melted.
“I know I have no right to say this, but…dammit Jenn, it just about killed me, watching you dance like that,” he murmured. His gaze wandered south a little, stopping at her mouth.
The air left her lungs.
“Sorry to make you suffer like that, Bobby.” Of course, she wasn’t sorry. He deserved to suffer. A lot. Especially after what he’d done to her a year ago. While she was feeling a lot less angry with him at the moment, she still wasn’t sure if she wanted something to happen between them tonight. Forgiving was hard. Forget
ting harder still. Plus there was another guy’s face flashing in her head every now and then.
Aeron.
Bobby’s lips curled up at the corners. Before they had broken up, that wicked smile had made her heart gallop. Now, it was not only having that effect but also making her nervous at the same time. “No, you’re not, Jenn. You’re not sorry at all. You like it when I’m dying up there. When every bone in my body wants you but I can’t do anything about it.”
She blinked wide eyes at him, trying to look sweet, innocent. “You want me, Bobby?”
He slid a hand up the side of her body, and heat pounded through her center. “Can’t you tell? I’ve wanted to tell you, but I was afraid to say anything. I want you, Jenn. I want you so badly it hurts.”
Staring into his stormy eyes, she pulled a big faux pout. “Aw, I feel bad now, for making you suffer.”
He leaned closer. “You should.”
She quivered.
He was so close she could feel the heat radiating off his skin. And his cologne, that amazing cologne, was making her head swimmy. He was near enough to kiss her. And she could tell he wanted to kiss her. But he didn’t.
He was waiting. For a hint from her. A sign. That it was okay.
She couldn’t give him that. Not yet. Although there were plenty of parts of her body that wouldn’t have minded. She averted her gaze and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.
Reading her body language, he stepped back. That made her a little sad. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
Bobby, aka Bad Dog, as he was known in the band, X-Fire took her hand in his and led her down the narrow, dingy corridor to the green room which wasn’t green. The walls were painted a dismal gray. And, to make things worse, the paint was stained from cigarette smoke. The stink of tobacco hung thick in the air.
Stepping into the room, Jenn saw Rick Stone, aka Ripper, sitting on a torn up couch that might have been new in 1980, a cigarette in his mouth and a girl on each knee. Some things never changed. Xavier, Ripper’s brother and the band’s drummer was standing at the old dumpy refrigerator, inspecting its contents. And bass player Saxon, aka Sax, was sitting in a chair, bent over a mirror lined with cocaine.
