The Fear of Letting Go

by Sarra Cannon

  I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. It's only a few months until graduation. Why not have a little fun before I leave? I'm tired of resisting him, and he's right, we do always seem to have a great time when we're together. No expectations and no regrets.

  All I have to do is make sure I don't fall in love with him. How hard can that really be?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Preston

  I wave to our security guard, Jason, and the iron gate leading to my parents' estate slowly retracts. I pull the Escalade into the driveway and park just outside the garage.

  Jenna and I quietly make our way, hand-in-hand, around the side of the house and go through the back door of the pool house.

  “Damn, I forgot my bathing suit,” she says.

  I consider suggesting she doesn't need one, but decide not to test my luck just yet.

  “Don't worry. We have tons of extras,” I say. I open the door to the guest suite and show her to the closet. There are dozens of swim suits hanging up, tags still attached.

  She puts a hand on her hip. “You've got to be kidding me,” she says. She flips the tag over on one of the suits and whistles. “You guys have four hundred dollar bathing suits in a variety of styles and sizes just on the off occasion someone stops by needing a suit?”

  “It happens more than you think,” I say.

  “Shit, I'm sure,” she says. “If I was a different kind of person, I'd be over here once a week accidentally forgetting my own suit so I could have a peek at this week's arRob of fine goods.”

  I laugh, but feel a little embarrassed. I'd never given those suits a second though until now, but to someone who doesn't have a lot of money, it must seem kind of ridiculous.

  “I'm going to hop over to the other suite and take a quick shower to wash off this mud,” I say. “There's a shower in here for you with shampoo and whatever you need. Unless you want to join me in the other room?”

  One corner of her mouth curls into a sexy smile. “I'll meet you by the pool in ten minutes?”

  Damn. Was worth a shot. “Sounds good,” I say.

  “And bring food,” she calls after me.

  I had almost forgotten about the food. It's like my brain doesn't totally work when I'm around her. I can't believe she's finally letting down her walls and spending time with me, but as I walk toward the main house, I realize what kind of corner I've just painted myself into with her.

  We're dating, but I can't call her my girlfriend. We can't talk about any kind of future together. And once graduation comes in May, it's over between us.

  Something heavy knots in my stomach. Isn't that what I wanted? Just someone to have fun with for a while? No talk of marriage or pressure to be anything but myself?

  I grab a tRob from the linen closet and pile it high with cheese, fruit, bread and sliced turkey. My stomach growls as I bring the food back out to the pool and set it on a table near the backside of the house. I rush inside to shower and change into my suit, but the whole time I'm in there, I can't help but shake the feeling of dread that graduation day is going to come much too soon.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jenna

  Preston is already in the pool, and he turns as I walk out the door. His eyes travel from my head all the way down to my toes, and I squirm under his scrutiny. This isn't the first time I've worn a bikini around him, but this is the first time since our kiss that he's seen me so undressed. I feel incredibly naked and vulnerable for the first time in a long time.

  “Damn. You look gorgeous,” he says. He swims to the edge of the pool and pulls himself out of the water. His body radiates heat as he pulls me into his arms again.

  “Is the pool heated, too?”

  “Yes,” he says. “I guess it seems pretty indulgent considering most of the town is without power right now.”

  “You think?” I say, teasing. Don't get me wrong, I have no problem with the idea of luxury. But it's so foreign to me, the way his family spends money without a care in the world. What must it be like to live like that? Never worrying about your power getting turned off, or your car breaking down. Being able to spend thousands of dollars on bathing suits for guests who happen to stop by. I honestly can't even imagine it.

  “Are you still hungry?” he asks.

  “Hungry doesn't even begin to describe the way I feel right now,” I say with a laugh. “Ravenous is more like it.”

  He motions toward the tRob full of food.

  “It's too cold out here, though,” I say. “Mind if we take it back inside?”

  “Not at all.” Preston carries the tRob back inside the pool house and sets it down on a coffee table in front of a large gas fireplace. He flips a switch on the wall and fire roars to life.

  I laugh. “Now all we need is a bear-skinned rug and this would be truly decadent.”

  “I can have that arranged,” he says with a wink.

  I roll my eyes and make myself a sandwich, piled high with enough turkey to feed a small army.

  “Want something to drink?” he asks.

  I lift up a finger, asking him to wait while I chew the giant bite I just took of my sandwich. He smiles and taps his toes, pretending to check his watch.

  “Sorry, I told you I was hungry,” I say. “And yes, I'd love something to drink. What do you have?”

  He steps over to a mirrored bar near the kitchen. “Pick your poison,” he says. “Anything your heart desires.”

  I search my brain for the most obscure drink I can think of. “A manhattan,” I say, not entirely sure what goes into that.

  “Coming right up.”

  “Wait, seriously? Do you even know what's in that?”

  “Whiskey, sweet vermouth, and bitters,” he says.

  “Okay, what about a gimlet?” I'm pulling out every old-school drink in the book.

  “Gin and a splash of lime juice,” he says.

  “How about a mojito?”

  “Rum, sugar, lime, sparkling water, and crushed mint,” he says. “But I'd have to go back to the main house to get the mint.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “How do you know all that?”

  He shrugs. “An added bonus of growing up with parents who like to drink and entertain,” he says. “Plus, I like to play bartender on the yacht. Not that you'd know this.”

  He gives me a sideways smile, and I try to think up more obscure drinks.

  “Can you make me a mint julep?” I ask. “I've always wanted to try one of those. It sounds so Southern.”

  “Bourbon, simple syrup, and mint.”

  I twist my mouth to the side. “Hmm. Yeah, I forgot about the mint part,” I say. “What's your signature drink, then?”

  “The Bone,” he says, and I wonder how he keeps a straight face.

  “You've got to be kidding me,” I say. “Your signature drink is called The Bone?”

  “Yes, and you're going to love it.”

  “What's in it?”

  “Do you like Bloody Mary's?” he asks.

  “Sure,” I say.

  “Then you'll probably like this,” he says. “Give it a try. If you hate it, I'll drink it.”

  He takes the ingredients out one at a time. “Wild Turkey. Lime juice. Simple syrup, which is really just sugar water. And the best part, Tabasco sauce.”

  My eyes widen as he pours it all into a cocktail shaker and shakes it up. He gets a heavy glass from the shelf above the bar and puts four cubes of ice inside before pouring The Bone over the top.

  “Enjoy,” he says, handing it to me.

  I clear my throat and sniff the drink. I can definitely smell the Tabasco sauce. I bring the drink to my lips and take the smallest sip. To my surprise, it's actually pretty damned good.

  “You like it?”

  “I do,” I say. “Did you make this up yourself?”

  “Nah,” he says. “Don't laugh, but I got it out of Esquire Magazine. Everyone loves it, so it kind of became my signature drink.”

  “You know, you should take t
hat job over at Rob's that Jo was talking about. You'd make a good bartender. Plus, a good bit of eye candy like you would bring in all the ladies. It could be a very Tom Cruise moment for you.”

  He laughs. “That actually sounds like fun, but my parents would probably die.”

  “Probably, but who cares? You're the one who said you were looking to add a little adventure to your life, right?”

  “I am,” he says, putting one arm around me and pulling me closer.

  The heat in the room kicks up a notch as our skin touches, the entire length of our bodies separated only by a tiny string bikini and a pair of swim trunks.

  He leans down to kiss me, but I place my cold glass against his back and he sucks in a quick breath and pulls away. “Holy shit, that's cold,” he says.

  “I'm still hungry,” I say, wriggling out of his grasp and heading back to our little carpet picnic by the fire.

  There's no doubt I want him, but I'm not sure I'm ready to cross that next physical barrier with him just yet. And tonight has all the ingredients of an impending sexual encounter. A romantic fireplace. A hot tub. A lot of alcohol.

  I'm up for having a good time, but if I want to protect my heart, I need to take it slow.

  “What are these for, anyway?” I ask, motioning to a pair of silver dogtags on a chain around his neck.

  He lifts them up and shows me the name punched into the metal. “These were my grandfather's,” he says. “He served in World War II and was a real hero. After that, he traveled the world, helping people recover from war. He was an amazing man.”

  “Sounds like it,” I say. “When did he pass away?”

  “Years ago,” he says. “But I never take these off. I never want to forget what he meant to me.”

  I study him, realizing I have completely judged him wrong. There's so much more to Preston than I ever thought.

  When we finish our meal, we head out to the pool. Steam rises off the top of the water. I slide in and all the aches and pains from our time trudging through the mud looking for that little girl disappear.

  “This feels amazing,” I say. “I've never been in a heated pool before.”

  “You've been missing out,” he says.

  We swim together, playing and laughing in the water for a while, but the anticipation is growing. I think we both know where this is headed, but we take our time. After a while, though, he swims over to me, and pulls me into his arms. This time, I don't have a cold glass to distract him. We float near the edge of the pool, and I feel helpless to resist him. No matter how many times I've tried to deny what's happening between us, something always draws us back together, as if this is where we've been headed all along.

  When he kisses me, heat spreads through my body like honey, thick and sweet. I circle my arms around his neck and run my fingers through his dark hair. Below the water, his hands explore my body, his fingertips sliding across my hips and up my back.

  I can't reach the bottom of the pool from here, so I wrap my legs around him. As our kiss deepens, he grabs my hips and pulls me closer. The thick length of him hardens and presses against me. A moan escapes my lips, and my resolve to take it slowly disappears into the mist.

  Slow is highly overrated, anyway.

  “I want you,” he whispers against my lips.

  Desire blossoms through me, and I can't deny how much I want him, too. I answer him with a kiss. With a tightening of my legs around his hips.

  “Not here,” I say. “Let's go inside.”

  He nods and pulls himself out of the pool. I grab his hand and he lifts me from the water. Excitement and nervousness mingle inside me as we walk back to the warm fire in the poolhouse.

  “See? A bear-skinned rug would be perfect,” I say as he kisses me again.

  His fingers find the strings of my top and untie them. He tosses the wet piece of fabric to the side and his hands move up to cup my breasts. I close my eyes as his mouth descends on me, drawing my nipple into his mouth, and teasing it with his tongue. One hand slides down my stomach and past the tiny elastic string of the bathing suit bottom. As his fingers find me, I'm stricken with both panic and pleasure.

  Yes, I want him, but I'm not ready for this. Even with our agreement in place, I can already feel myself losing control. Losing my heart.

  I can hardly force breath into my lungs.

  “Wait,” I say. I place my hands on his bare chest and push him back.

  “What's wrong?”

  I shake my head. “I'm sorry. I'm just not ready,” I say. I cross my hands in front of my chest to cover myself. I take a step backward. “Can you take me home?”

  His expression darkens. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, it's me,” I say. “I just need more time to wrap my head around this. I'll be fine. I just want to go home.”

  He nods and grabs a towel from a stack near the door.

  “Thanks,” I say, wrapping it around my bare body. I turn and rush back to the guest room, closing the door behind me. I lean my head against the wood and take several deep breaths. Shit. I'm not prepared for this. After the things I've shared with him, already, about my past and about my dreams of the future, moving forward sexually feels incredibly intimate. I don't know how to deal with this level of vulnerability. How can I keep my heart safe and my mind in the right place if he's already got me so off-balance?

  I strip naked and toss the wet bikini into a hamper in the bathroom. I dress in my muddy clothes as quickly as I can and go back out to the main room to find Preston already dressed and ready to go. His face looks stricken, as if I've wounded him.

  We don't say a word as we walk back to his car and he drives me home.

  Outside my apartment, he places his hand on mine. “Are we okay?”

  I nod and meet his eyes. “Yes. It's been an emotional day, and I think I'm just exhausted,” I say. “I need a good night's sleep and everything will look better in the morning.”

  “I don't understand what I did wrong.”

  “You didn't do anything,” I say. “I just need more time.”

  “I meant what I said earlier about slowing down if that's what you need,” he says. “Just don't shut me out.”

  “I won't,” I say. I lean over and kiss him softly on the cheek. “I'll talk to you tomorrow?”

  He swallows and nods. I hate that I've upset him and probably confused the hell out of him, but I can't help it.

  “Goodnight,” I say, having no other words to offer him. I head up to my apartment and watch through the curtains as he pulls away.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jenna

  In the morning, Preston knocks on my door with a peace offering. Two large coffees and a sack of bagels with cream cheese.

  I invite him in, but he shakes his head.

  “We have too much to do today,” he says.

  “We do?”

  “Yes, it's still technically spring break, and I know you don't have to work today because Brantley's is closed due to the storm last night.”

  “Oh, no, was the restaurant damaged?” I grab my cell phone and my keys and follow him out to his car. “I need to call Maria.”

  “I don't think it's anything serious,” he says. “I heard my dad talking about the damage around town, and I think it's mostly just a small leak in the roof that caused a little water damage in the dining room. He thinks they'll reopen by the weekend.”

  I sigh with relief. After I dumped all my money into buying my truck, I can't afford to be without a job for very long. I don't mention this to him, though.

  “So what are we doing today?”

  “If you're up for it, I thought we'd head over to campus and help clean up. There's already a group of students gathering in the quad to get rid of fallen tree limbs and trash that got knocked over in the storm.”

  “I actually slept like a log last night,” I say. “I must have been exhausted.”

  I know this doesn't totally make up for me running out on him last night, but I'm glad
he's not holding it against me.

  We eat our bagels on the way to campus and spend the rest of the morning cleaning. The beautiful cherry trees I'd been admiring earlier in the week have been stripped of most of their blooms, but other than a few cosmetic things, most of the campus was saved from any significant damage.

  “I feel sorry for the families that lost their homes, though,” I say. “Can you imagine what they must be going through?”

  “Penny's already all over it,” Preston says. “She's been making calls all morning to get donations to help put the families up in a local hotel until their homes can be rebuilt. Insurance should take care of the rest.”

  “She's such a work-horse,” I say. “Ever since she got back from her trip, she hasn't stopped working to help families here in town. I wish I could be more like her.”

  “You and me both,” he says. He tosses a bag of trash into the dumpster and looks around. “I think we're about finished up here. Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?”

  “Nothing specific now that work's off,” I say. “I should probably call Maria and make sure she doesn't need anything, but if she's good, I'm all yours.”

  Something flashes in his eyes, and my knees go weak.

  “You know what I mean,” I say.

  “Make the call,” he says. “If you have the afternoon free, I thought we could head over to one of our properties outside of town and ride the four-wheeler around for a while.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “One of your properties?”

  “We have a few,” he says with a laugh. “A few years back, Mason and I made a path through the woods so we could ride around out there. I keep a couple of four-wheelers out there, and it's really fun in the mud.”

  I make that call to Maria and am relieved when she says she doesn't need me for a few days.

  “Let's go,” I say.

  We pick up some lunch on the way, and then ride out to his family's cabin in the woods. Preston shows me how to drive the four-wheeler, and we spend the rest of the day sliding around in the mud together.