by A. M. Wilson
We stare at one another, and my heart breaks for the pain this girl in front of me has been putting herself through, both physically and mentally.
“I don’t do it because I want to die,” she whispers.
“Do you think it’s less serious because of that?”
Tatum looks thoughtful, staring off over my shoulder while she contemplates her answer. “Actually, no. I think it’s just as serious. Usually, I try to be so careful, but I’ve had a couple slip ups when I was just so damn angry, and I’d cut too deep. It would scare the hell out of me, but I still couldn’t stop. I think I’ve been secretly waiting for someone to notice all along. I want to stop, Jacoby. I really do.”
“You’re not going to hurt yourself anymore? You give me your word?”
Her eyes dart away from mine and back over my shoulder. She sighs. “I know it’s not going to be easy. Over the last two weeks I’ve still had the urge, but nothing ever came from it. It’s a habit. A bad one, like smoking or something. I might slip up. I can’t promise I won’t, but I’m trying.”
I roll onto my side and over the top of Tatum, bracing myself on my forearms as to not crush her. Dropping my mouth to hers, I slant my lips and kiss her, slowly and deeply.
“That’s all I ask, Sweetheart. We’re in this together. Maybe we should set you up to talk to someone?”
She doesn’t break eye contact while she nods her head. I cup her cheek affectionately. My brave girl. “I was thinking that, too.”
I kiss her once more before sitting up and pulling her with me. “Oh, one more thing before we move on from this mess. Can I ask what you were doing at the gym today?”
I hate sounding like a jealous boyfriend. I trust Trey with my life, and I trust Tatum, too. We may have had some problems to work out, but that doesn’t mean I don’t trust her. But seeing her this morning has been nagging at me all day. What was so important she had to talk to Trey but not me?”
Tatum scooches towards the edge of the bed, dropping one leg to the floor while sliding the other beneath her. She bites her cuticle on her thumb. Is she nervous? My stomach plummets.
“Let me preface this by saying if I knew we’d end up here tonight, I would have waited to ask you. But I thought we still weren’t talking, and I needed answers so I went to Trey. I’m sorry if that’s weird.”
I reach out and pull her hand away from her delectable mouth. She turns her palm upward, and I thread our fingers together. “I understand. What did you need answers about?”
“I went by your house this morning,” she begins.
“You did?” I must have already been at the gym.
She nods slowly. “And when I got there, this blonde was just leaving.”
My body stiffens, and my hand convulses around hers. A blonde? Melissa? Oh, fuck. “Sweetheart, I didn’t have anyone over this morning,” I answer truthfully. Fuck, I just got her back. Please don’t let her pull away.
“I know,” she replies, her hazel eyes moving back and forth between mine. She must see what she’s looking for, because she blows out a breath before repeating, “I know.”
“Good. But I’m not following. Why did you go to Trey?”
“She left a note. It wasn’t signed. I didn’t have a clue who it was from, and she implied she was sleeping with you. So I went to Trey to see if it was true. I figured he’s your best friend so he would know.”
“She left a note. Did Trey tell you who it was from?” I ask, because if he didn’t, I’m going to set this straight right the fuck now. She has to know I wasn’t sleeping around on her. For the first time in two years, it hadn’t even crossed my mind.
“It’s okay, Jacoby. I, well, I believed Trey, which means I believe you. You don’t have to explain what some crazy chick was doing leaving notes in your front door,” she laughs, which makes me chuckle too.
“So what did you do with the note?” I ask between laughs. Tatum gives me the squinty eyes from hell, which causes me to laugh harder. “I’m sorry. I had to ask!”
“I threw it the fuck away. Why, you want to read it?” Her eyes are lit with fire, and I draw her to me and kiss the flames away.
“Hell no,” I whisper against her soft lips.
“That’s settled then. Let’s go make some phone calls before the clinic closes, and I’ll make us something to eat.”
A blinding smile graces her beautiful face, and my heart beats wildly in my chest. I’ll never tire of putting that smile there. That smile lights up the whole damn room.
“Sounds like a plan.”
Together, we walk hand in hand down the stairs, and the whole way down I can’t stop thinking that I’ve finally found my gift.
***
“Where are you taking me?” Tatum asks from beside me as we drive along the highway, chasing the horizon. We’re nearing dusk; as the sun floats below the end of the earth, the sky is painted in hues of yellow, gold, and periwinkle. My eyes are protected from the waning rays with a pair of shades, and as I glance over at Tatum, her own eyes are hidden but an eager smile lights up her face. She’s as breathtaking as the sunset before us.
“If I told you, it’d ruin the surprise.”
Today is Friday. We’ve spent five magically perfect days basking in the newness of our relationship. Monday night we laid our secrets to rest in the quiet privacy of my bedroom, and since then, our pathway has been paved with happiness. Since Monday night Tatum has fallen asleep at night securely in my arms, and each morning after, I’ve made love to her before we get ready for school.
Her usual demeanor has been replaced with an ethereal happiness. As much as I miss her sarcasm, the look of love in her eyes and the contentment of her smile is a hundred times better. This Tatum doesn’t have to hide her feelings behind her sharp remarks. Instead, she shares them with simple gestures. A shy smile, a gentle brush of her hand when we pass in the hall, a secretive sexy text message. Over the past week, she’s proven to me we’re in this together. Now it’s my turn to repay the contentment she’s brought to my life.
The pieces are smoothly falling into place. Even Wyatt has seemed to stop his ridiculous chase. Tatum shared with me that he still texts her a few times a week, declaring to get her back, but we both know he has no chance. She’s been staying at my place, and if I have my way, she’ll be staying with me permanently.
Somehow, I managed to convince her to leave her back alley gun at her apartment, so she doesn’t accidently shoot the fucker if he were to show up at my door. Even though he’d deserve it, I don’t want to have to visit her in prison. I was enraged when she bought the thing, but after spending two weeks without her, knowing he was still trying to get to her, I can’t deny I’m glad she was protected. But I’m back, and I’d lay down my life to protect hers. She doesn’t need it anymore.
“I hate surprises,” she grumbles. The sound brings another smile to my face.
“Oh no. You’ll love this one. Trust me,” I respond while slowing the car to turn left towards the last leg of our journey. We’ve been in the car nearly forty minutes, and I’m as antsy as she is to get there. Maybe even more so. “And if you hate it, we can spend all weekend in the hotel room.”
She whips around to face me, her gorgeous brown locks spinning around her face. “We’re going to a hotel?”
I glance over at her to take in her expression. Shock and excitement are written all over her beautiful face, and the sight makes my heart constrict. If I could spend the rest of my life putting that look on her face, it wouldn’t be enough.
I nod. “Yup. A small hotel, so don’t get your hopes up too much. It isn’t a five star resort. But that’s not even your surprise.”
My car races down the highway, trees whipping past in a multitude of green shades as I press the pedal a little bit harder than necessary. Her excitement ratchets my own, and I’m eager to get us there.
“There’s more?” she breathes so softly, I chuckle. My hand finds her jean covered knee, and I squeeze. She wraps both of her
soft, delicate hands around mine and sighs.
“I’ve already revealed too much. You’ll just have to wait and see.”
“Whatever,” she grumbles again, but leans her head against the headrest with her face turned towards the sun. She doesn’t release my hand. Her eyes are covered, but I think they’re closed judging by the relaxation written all over her face.
Contentment washes over me as the car eats up the final miles towards our weekend destination. The point of this trip was to be alone. To be free. In town, we’re surrounded by locals so we’ve had to be careful. I’m still her teacher for a few more weeks, and until she finishes the semester, we aren’t safe. My heart longs for my girl, longs to be able to show her how I feel, to take her on a date. I want to dance with her in the middle of Main Street and kiss her for the world to see. I want to claim her and shout to the universe she’s mine. But I can’t. Until December.
So this is my compromise. This is our date. An entire weekend away to be us, to be free, without the judgmental eyes of our peers. Without the fear of discovery or spending all our time locked behind the quiet door of my home. As much as I love taking her in my bed, there’s more to be discovered in our relationship. As much as I love her body, I want her mind, and I crave her heart. Until she graduates, this is all I have to offer.
A few minutes later I pull up beside the hotel and cut the engine. Tatum stirs beside me, lifting her shades onto her hair to look around. I take a minute to soak her in while she studies the structure before us. I told her to get ready before we left so we didn’t have to waste any time in the hotel. She’s wearing a pair of black leggings with gray heeled boots that make her legs look lean and long. She has on a flowing, white top that just barely covers the curve of her ass and a gray sweater on top of it. Her outfit is such a contrast to her normal jeans and tees. She is walking perfection, and if we didn’t have somewhere to be, I’d drag her into the hotel room and not come out until Sunday night.
On that thought, I tell her, my voice rough and quiet, “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” She nods, and I climb out to check us in and drop our bags in our room. I don’t want to deal with our stuff later. Knowing what I have planned, when we get back, the only thing on my mind will be how to get her into bed as quickly as possible.
I jog back to the car after unloading our things, excited to get our evening started.
We drive another two miles up the road, and surprisingly, Tatum keeps quiet. I know she’s burning with eagerness, but she knows I won’t spill. I could guess this girl hasn’t had many surprises of the positive variety in her life, so I’m not giving in until I can give one to her.
I manage to find a parking space in the full lot and quickly climb out to open Tatum’s door for her.
“What is this place?” she asks, as I take her hand and lead her towards the door.
“You’ll see,” I respond with a wink, and she lets out the most adorable huff beside me. She can pout all she wants, but the anticipation radiating off of her is more than worth her little bit of frustration.
The lodge in front of us looks entirely unassuming. The outside is all old wood logs and frosted windows, and a chimney sits on the roof releasing billowing plumes of smoke from the fireplace I know to be inside.
I open the door and lead us both inside the warm building. We stop barely inside the door, and I smile over at the angel beside me as her face transforms from one of confusion to one of pure awe.
My chest swells with pride in the knowledge that I put that look on her face. Life just handed me another gift.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Tatum
Oh my God. My heart beats so quickly, I’m sure I’m about to keel over in cardiac arrest. I move in a slow pirouette as I’m mesmerized by the interior of the wood lodge we’ve stepped into. It’s not really a lodge at all, though. The building is more of an upscale restaurant and bar, and it has a dance floor!
The ceiling is all exposed wood beams, which meet in the corners of the unfinished walls. The room is rustic and beautiful. To my left is the restaurant; tables with white table cloths and single candles in the center, wait staff in pressed black slacks and crisp white shirts. On the right is the bar; a long, lacquered top running along the length of the wall and lined with bar stools. The perimeter has small, two-top tables surrounding the dance floor. Along the back wall, a DJ uses his equipment to switch songs. Between the two sides is a huge glass encased fire place with a hearty fire roaring quietly inside.
The place reminds me of a wedding reception. It’s warm and romantic and beautiful. I have never, in my entire life, been anywhere even remotely close to this. I’m a bit overwhelmed.
“Are you ready for dinner, Sweetheart?” Jacoby whispers in my ear, and I jolt at the feel of his warm breath feathering across my exposed neck. He chuckles, then grasps my hand, threading my fingers through the curve of his elbow and leads me to the left.
“Y-yes. Jacoby, this is, I mean, I’m speechless. Thank you for bringing me here.”
He chuckles again and presses his lips against my hair as we stop in front of a hostess stand at the entrance to the restaurant.
“You seem a bit shell shocked. Relax, love. Enjoy yourself.”
I simply nod as I ponder his words. Enjoy yourself.
When was the last time I really enjoyed myself? I could rack my brain for hours and probably wouldn’t come up with anything. Well, except one thing. Him.
My most joyous moments over the last two months have all involved Jacoby. Whether it was exchanging knowing glances and shy grins, relaxing in his embrace, holding hands, cuddling, making love, hell, even arguing, every moment spent with him has been life changing. I went from this bitter girl with a penchant for hurting herself to a vulnerable woman who is falling in love. I’ve started to shed the notion that the world is out to get me. I’m realizing that the pain, the heartache, the distress of feeling unloved and unwanted my whole life was entirely worth it if I get to have Jacoby by my side.
By the time dinner is over, I’m full of delicious food and completely content with my life. Jacoby and I shared small conversation over mouthwatering filet mignon, creamy mashed potatoes, and a winter blend of steamed vegetables. We followed the meal with a shared slice of cheesecake, topped with cherries, for dessert. I told him about my goals when I graduate. He seemed quietly relieved when I mentioned moving away from this town, maybe even this state. I was too scared to bring it up yet, but I’m quietly hoping if I decide to leave, he’ll follow.
“Dance with me.”
I look up from where I was studying my lap to see Jacoby standing in front of me, his hand outstretched in invitation. I put my hand in his, and he gives me a tight squeeze before leading me out to the dance floor.
Jacoby curls a tendril of my hair around his finger, seemingly lost in thought for a moment before he twirls us in a slow spin. The floor is crowded with people dancing and laughing together. Although it’s busy, the place isn’t rowdy, which I appreciate. This night is about us, and I’d rather not have it spoiled by a bunch of drunks.
We move in slow circles, our bodies fluidly reciprocating the moves of one another. My fingers lightly play with the long strands at the back of his neck. With each spin, I relax more and more until eventually, I’m floating on air. The tension from the past few weeks is suddenly gone. I feel lighter than ever. I rest my cheek against the warm pectoral of Jacoby’s chest, listening to the gallop of his heartbeat beneath my ear. This is perfection.
Jacoby’s hands softly caress my waist as we dance, and I can’t help but hope that this is perfection for him, too.
We’ve ridden the ride; a roller coaster of ups and downs, twists and turns. We’ve pushed each other away and grasped one another as a life line. We’ve fought for what was right and moral, and when that became too much, we fought against it. We fought for what was right in our hearts. We stopped battling the feelings of the rest of the world and instead, held tighter to our feelings for each oth
er. Because when it comes down to it, the rest of the world doesn’t matter. Our feelings are true and real. We found something in one another we’ve both been missing, and what can possibly be wrong with finding your other half?
The answer is: nothing.
When you spend your life living for everyone else, rising to expectations, and trying not to disappoint, you aren’t living. You’re wasting. Wasting the gift so many others have had tragically ripped away and cut short. Live for yourself. Protect that gift. Nurture and cherish it so it can grow and have meaning.
Nearly two months ago I was hollow, with only the sharp presence of my blade to remind me I was alive. Jacoby took that away from me but gave me a gift in return. He taught me how to live.
As we gently sway wrapped up in each other’s arms, contained in our own private bubble, the song dwindles down to the last few notes. Jacoby presses his lips to mine in a warm, inviting kiss. My mind swirls with a blissfully quiet mist as I feel and touch and taste my hopes and dreams on his lips.
He pulls away and rests his forehead against mine. We breathe our mingled breaths while gazing into each other’s eyes.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
I hold our spot near the middle of the dance floor while Jacoby walks up to the DJ. He speaks to him briefly before coming back to me and scooping me in his arms.
“What was that about?” I ask as the melodic piano chords float in the air around us. Jacoby brings his mouth to my ear and begins singing the lyrics to Rascal Flatts “I Won’t Let Go” in his deep, rich voice. I gasp when he sings the chorus, and his grip tightens around my waist. We stay like this, clinging to one another while the music plays.
As the last strains of the song play, and my eyes are watering with tears, Jacoby sends me away from him in an elegant twirl that has me giggling. He pulls me back into his embrace and halts our slow dancing. Our eyes lock. A burning fire of passion is reflected in his gaze. The deep brown reminds me of quicksand, and I’m stuck. Sinking. Sinking. Sinking.
