“Only one,” he assured me, giving me an equally undoubting look that said if all Mom-talk’s aside. He left his response at those two words. He didn’t say anything else. He only sat up straight, leaned to the side, and retrieved his phone from his pocket. He turned it on, tapped the screen in search for of something, and then passed it over to me.
“What’s this?” I asked, and I took his phone and cradled it in my hands. But then I wished I hadn’t because I came face-to-face with that stupid, viral video all over again.
Every time I watched it, it broke my heart a little more. Even though I had Gabe right there, even though he was in my reach and things had significantly changed since that day, I’d never recovered from that devastating moment. He’d hurt me so much that day.
“Why am I watching this?” I asked, feeling the crack in my voice.
I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. I couldn’t watch it again. I could hardly stand to hear it. I couldn’t bear listening to the way I spoke to him, the way I said goodbye, the way my voice broke. I couldn’t possibly listen to the way he cleared his throat, ignored my every word, and went back to his speech, like I hadn’t just spilled my heart.
“I shouldn’t have let you—”
“I know,” I said, opening my eyes again. I turned the video off and passed him the phone. “You’ve said that. You shouldn’t have let me say those things. You should’ve stopped me. You shouldn’t have let me jeopardize things for the team.”
“I shouldn’t have let you walk away,” he said. “I thought I knew what was best, but I shouldn’t have let you walk away without telling you what was going on. I should’ve told you how much you meant to me, in spite of the fact that we couldn’t make it work. I hurt you. I saw it then; I see it now. And if I would’ve stopped you…” He looked down at the phone and tucked it back into his pocket. “And not just here at the park. Every time I let you walk away, every time I didn’t give you what you were asking for—”
“Sometimes demanding—”
“Sometimes demanding,” he agreed with a grin. “But regardless, I should’ve trusted you enough to say what I needed to say.”
We both looked to the sky again, just as the tip of the sun began to rise over the distant tree line. I shimmied closer to him, our arms brushing as we watched the sky brighten.
“What about you?”
“What about me?” I said, almost whispering.
“Is getting suspended the worst thing you’ve ever done? Any big mistakes, regrets?”
Disobeying Dad was the first one that came crawling to mind, maybe because it was the most immediate one. That is, of course, if you could even call it a mistake. Calling it a mistake meant that I regretted every moment I shared with Gabe that morning. I wouldn’t have taken back a second of our morning together, at any cost. And since we drove away from the house only a while ago, I hadn’t once thought about the rule that I’d broken when I’d snuck out to meet him.
I couldn’t believe I’d tossed and turned all night, thinking that I’d inevitably regret whatever decision I made that morning, because I didn’t. I was happy to be there with Gabe, no matter what that meant.
My biggest regret was something that Gabe had already helped me overcome, slowly but surely. For so long, I’d shut out my family. I didn’t have a great relationship with my sister, and I barely had a relationship with Dad at all. Friends? Forget about it. I didn’t have any of those. If I hadn’t been so scared, if I could’ve faced the fact that not every person I loved would hurt me the way Mom hurt me, then maybe I would’ve opened up sooner. Maybe the friends I had now would’ve been my best friends all along.
“I wish I could make up for all the missed time,” I said, tearing my eyes away from the glowing sunrise as I looked to him. I didn’t have to explain what I meant; he already knew. “I can’t help but wonder where I would be if I would’ve opened up sooner.”
Gabe smiled at that, but he didn’t say a word, and in one simultaneous move, we looked back to the glowing sun.
###
“You don’t have to walk me up.” I stared at the house, studying each of the windows—so far, so good. It looked like we might’ve made it back before Dad or Bailey had even had a chance to notice that I wasn’t snuggled up in my bed at the end of the hall.
Gabe pulled up behind my car and killed the engine. I opened the door and slid out of the passenger’s seat before he had a chance to take off his seat belt.
“Hold on, hold on, hold on,” he climbed out of the car and shut his door, rounding the front of the car just in time to cut me off on my way up to the porch. “Where do you think you’re going? I don’t get a goodbye?”
I tried to be as quiet as possible. “I can walk myself up, Gabe. You don’t have to—”
“I know I don’t have to,” he teased, cupping my elbows in his palms and drawing me closer. He leaned down slightly, his breath tickling my skin, and whispered, “But I want to. Is that okay?”
“Mmm-hmm,” I barely managed, rendered speechless by him just then. I couldn’t find my breath, couldn’t form a single word, with him standing so close, holding me that way.
“Was that a yes?”
I closed my eyes and concentrated on steadying my breath, praying that if he was going to keep talking, he’d keep his voice right there—in that low, whispery tone that breezed across my skin. Not only was it incredibly sexy, but also it worked well to my advantage; the chance of anyone inside the house hearing him was slim to none.
“Okay, but we have to make it quick,” I said, tugging away from him and heading for the door.
“What’s your hurry?” He pulled me back again. Our chests clung together like magnets, and my heart vibrated in my throat. “Why are you running from me? Am I that repulsive?”
“You’re not repulsive at all.” I said. “You’re amazing. You’re perfect. It’s just that I—”
“What? Don’t want to be seen with me?” he teased. “Afraid the neighbors are going to see us on the lawn this early in the morning and assume the worst?”
“Crap. I never even thought about the neighbors,” I said, and his eyes widened with curiosity.
It was already 8:40, and I was too worried about the fact that Dad or Bailey either one could already be awake. I was too concerned with getting Gabe as far away from the house as possible that I hadn’t even stopped long enough to consider that anyone, anywhere else, could’ve already spotted us.
Oh my God. What if someone at the diner told Dad we were there? What if someone called him?
No doubt the gossip mill would run wild if one of Dad’s kids was caught sneaking around with a boy in the dark of the morning. It wouldn’t look good, and Dad would surely find out then.
“Okay,” I said, taking a few difficult breaths. I had to tell him the truth. I had to get inside, and he had to leave. And the truth was the only way to get him to stop acting all cute and perfect. The teasing would have to wait; I didn’t have time to play games. “Honestly?”
“Please.”
“I snuck out of the house this morning to see you.”
“You what?” Thank God it was another whisper.
“Dad’s in his own world right now. He was never going to let me see you this morning, so I snuck out,” I explained. “He knew that we were supposed to have a date, but I never told him when or where, so he wasn’t expecting it to be this early. I thought I could go out and get back in plenty of time for him to think that I was still in bed, hating him.”
“You lied to your dad?”
“Yes.”
“And then you snuck out of the house.”
“Yes.”
“Just so you could see me?”
“Yes.”
“Mandy,” he said, drawing back to get a better look at me. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ll be in when he finds out?”
“I do, but—”
“You broke a rule.”
“Yeah, but, you have to understand. I wanted
to see you.”
“Not even a rule of your own,” he said, still on his tangent. “You explicitly went behind your father’s back and did something wrong.”
“But only because—”
“I love you,” he said, smiling, and no sooner than the words fell off his lips, his face turned blank.
For the first time that morning, Gabe actually let his guard so far down that he’d let something slip right off his tongue. Since the moment he’d picked me up, he’d been so focused on choosing his words carefully, letting me in, letting me closer. Each act was deliberate. Everything he’d said to me that morning, every move he’d made in my direction, each one had been carefully chosen—until now. That time had been a mistake … a perfect mistake.
“What did you say?”
“I mean—”
“You just—”
“You should go,” he said, nodding to the house. “You should get inside before he notices you’re not there.”
“Oh, no you don’t,” I said, breaking a smile. “Gabriel Raddick, you just said you love me.”
“Slip of the tongue.”
“But you said it.”
“I did,” he nodded, but he wouldn’t look me in the eye. “Any chance we can forget it happened? No?”
“No,” I smiled, and he raked his fingers through his hair. He’d flustered himself, and the fact that I wouldn’t let him dismiss it so easily only made him that much more nervous. “Why would I want to forget it?”
“Because it was lame,” he said, kicking the dirt at his feet. His cheeks flushed redder by the second, and with each moment that passed, his embarrassment became more apparent. It was the cutest thing in the world. “It deserved a better moment than that.”
“I thought the moment was perfect. No redos.”
“No redos?”
“No,” I said, taking his hand. “Now I’m going to go inside and pray my family is still sleeping soundly.”
“I’ll walk you.”
“Please do,” I said, and he threaded his fingers through mine as we walked slowly in the direction of the house. Both of us seemed to dread each stride that took us one step closer to being apart.
I stopped before we reached the stairs to the porch, turning into him one more time. I wrapped my arms around him, pressing my ear against his chest and listened to his heartbeat. It was beating as quickly as mine. Thank God it was beating as quickly as mine.
“Thank you for this morning,” I said, backing away. “I had a wonderful time.”
“Being pulled out of bed to watch the sunrise wasn’t the worst thing ever?”
“It was perfect,” I said. “Thank you.”
“You said that already.”
“Oh,” I nodded, letting go of a tiny breath. “I … I had a wonderful time.”
“You said that, too.”
“Yeah. Right,” I shook my head, suddenly feeling as embarrassed as he’d looked only seconds ago. “This was … ”
“Perfect?” he asked, and then I realized … yeah, I’d already said that, too. “You’re stalling, Mandy Parker.”
“I don’t want you to leave, and I don’t want to go inside.”
“But you have to,” he said. “Because you broke a rule, and unless you want your Dad to find out … ”
“Right, yeah,” I said, looking back up at the house. “I’ll go.”
And then I stood there, even though I said I would go, I stayed in that spot, lingering, waiting on something I was certain was about to happen.
But it never did.
Gabe never leaned in. He never stepped up, didn’t lower his mouth. His lips didn’t come anywhere near mine.
He started back toward his car, only turning back long enough to raise his hand with a subtle wave.
“Goodbye, then,” I said, still standing there, watching him walk farther and farther away.
A wave? That’s what I got? After all of this time? All of this waiting? Eighteen long years of waiting for my moment, and I finally find a guy worth sharing my first kiss with, and he walks away?
I thought it had been a good morning. A great morning! I thought for sure that it would happen today. So … what? What happened? Where did I go wrong?
“Gabe?” I said, loudly enough to get his attention but not the attention of every other person in the neighborhood.
“Yeah?” he asked, looking up from his keys.
“So what is it?”
“What’s what?”
“You just … you don’t want to kiss me, or what? Am I that repulsive?”
His blank expression turned into an immediate smirk. I could use his words against him if I had to, and I was going to get to the bottom of whatever it was that was keeping him from making that first move.
“Yes, Mandy, that’s definitely the problem,” he smiled. “I find you so incredibly repulsive; I can barely stand to look at you.” I gave him nothing more than an annoyed stare, and he smiled even wider. “I thought you needed to get inside.”
“I do, but … ”
“Come here,” he motioned for me to come closer, and as I started walking toward him, he met me halfway on the yard.
He reached to take my hand, but my excitement had me moving too quickly, and I tripped over my feet. He caught me as my face landed hard against his chest.
“Are you okay?” he asked, breathlessly. I’m certain I knocked the wind out of him.
“I’m bad at this,” I said, standing straight again. I looked to the sky and cursed the universe for allowing me to have such a klutz of a moment right then. Karma. For sneaking out. I knew it. “Moment’s gone, right?”
“Moment’s gone.”
I hid my humiliated expression in the palms of my hands.
“Okay, go,” I said, dropping my arms to my sides. “Just get out of here. I’ll see you whenever I see you.”
He nodded. “I’ll call you.”
“You better.”
He turned away and headed for his car, right as the sight of a yellow blur came speeding into view from the end of the street. The taxi pulled up to the front of our house and stopped, blocking him in the driveway.
We both turned our attention to the cab.
The back door sprang open, and without a moment’s warning, a pair of long, tanned legs popped into view. The small-waisted brunette stood from the car and adjusted her skirt before smoothing the wrinkles from her yellow blouse.
“Oh, that can’t be good,” Gabe said, taking a couple of steps toward me. “Mandy, is that—”
“Yep,” I said, because it was hard to think of any other word. “That’s her. That’s Mom.”
Chapter Eight
“No,” I whispered, and for the second time that morning, Gabe’s strong hand landed gently on my back. He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulled me closer to his side, and kept me under his protective hold. It felt good, nestled against his strong body, but I knew that in that moment, even Gabe couldn’t distract me from the anxiety burning under my skin.
Mom was in Sugar Creek, standing right before us, and it was all I could do to keep from falling to my knees. Tears were biting at the corners of my eyes as I watched her, unable to tear my gaze away from her as I studied each of her fluid movements.
She rose from the cab and turned back only long enough to retrieve her oversized purse from the backseat. The driver let himself out, rounded the car, and discharged her luggage from the trunk.
“She brought bags.”
It wasn’t until after the words fell awkwardly into the air that I even realized they’d spilled from my lips. It was happening. She was getting to me already. I’d lost control over my body. My knees were buckling. My mouth was forming words my brain couldn’t register, and my heart was slamming against my chest, threatening to explode.
She had suitcases—two of them. Two large, overstuffed pieces of luggage.
“She’s staying,” I whispered again, drawing a look from Gabe. I could feel his stare burning on my cheek, and o
nly after I forced myself to look in his direction did I see that he was watching me, studying me with those big, blue, compassionate eyes. “Gabe, she’s staying.”
We turned back to look at her, both of us already well aware of that simple fact. Her reasoning for showing up was beyond us, but the fact that she planned to hang around was certainly not up for argument. No one goes on a brief trip with two full suitcases. Mom was planning to hang around, at least for a while.
“Why is she here?” My voice caught on the tight muscles in my throat. And because I had to concentrate on forming the words, I had to stop focusing on the urge to hold back my tears. As soon as I did, a single stream rolled down my cheek.
“I don’t know,” he answered, matching my quiet tone. But there was something calm about those three simple words. His voice wasn’t weighted down by fear and anxiety. He managed to keep it together a lot better than I did, probably because he didn’t yet understand the magnitude of Mom’s arrival.
We stood there on the lawn and watched as Mom paid off the cabbie. He was back in the driver’s seat and gone before we knew it.
And then there were three.
Mom turned her attention to us as if she hadn’t seen us standing there all along.
I can’t remember ever living through a quieter minute. But that’s what it was—one, solid minute before anyone made a single sound—and it was her. She’s the one who finally had the nerve to say—
“Look at you … ”
The first three words my mother spoke to me in almost four years.
Look at you. As if she were a grandparent I hadn’t seen in a month or a tiny, helpless baby in a passerby’s stroller. Look at you. Like I was some priceless piece of art, hanging around to be admired.
I stared at her, still snuggled under Gabe’s arm. Her eyes shifted to him for a moment, back to me, and then right back to him.
“And you must be Gabe,” she said, taking a few steps forward, pulling her large bags behind her. She stopped in the grass just feet away from us, extended her hand, and waited for Gabe to take it. He didn’t. Not at first. But I knew Gabe well enough to know he wasn’t going to snub someone, especially the woman who’d given me life, even if she had left me broken along the way.
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