by Carian Cole
"I'm sorry."
"C'mon. We can still watch a movie and make some wicked sundaes. I'm starving."
"Can we pile pillows and blankets all over the floor and camp out in front of the TV like my dad used to do with me when I was little? I don't even want to watch the movie in the theatre room. I want to hang out in the living room by the fireplace."
I'm sure my back will be screaming in the morning if I lay on the floor all night, but I'm willing to risk it.
"Yeah. Actually, that sounds perfect, Angel."
She grabs onto my hand as we walk back onto the house together. "Good. I just want to be five again for awhile."
I don't blame her. I want to be a little kid again too and forget about all the shit that's happening in my life.
Tor
After sexting with Kenzi, I feel like I've developed multiple personality disorder. One of me feels sick and ashamed of myself for being so weak and the other me can't get her off my mind and is itching to recapture that exhilarating feeling with her again. Last night made me feel more alive than I have in a long time and now that I've had a taste of her, I want more.
So much more.
As I work on the engine of a beautiful old Indian motorcycle in the shop, my brain keeps rewinding back to the pictures she sent me. And her handwritten note. And the fact that she hasn't texted me yet today.
Is she waiting for me to text her first?
Or is she mortified about the things we said to each other?
Does she regret sending me the photos?
My suck level is high when it comes to all things relationships.
When lunch time rolls around, I lock myself in my office and give her a call. Texts are fun but I need to hear her voice.
"I was hoping you'd call me." She says when she picks up, and I can hear the smile in her voice.
"Were you?"
"Yes."
"It's a good thing I called then. I wouldn't want to disappoint you."
"I don't think that's possible," she replies. "So, how's your day? You must be tired."
"It's the usual Monday. And yeah I'm beat, but you're worth it."
"Well, thank you."
"What are you doing today?"
"Not much. I'm having dinner with Aunt Katherine and her new boyfriend tonight."
"Very nice. I'm happy for her - she deserves to be happy after what that asshole did to her."
"Yeah, she really does. She seems pretty crazy about this new guy, so I hope it works out."
I glance at my door to make sure no one's around but lower my voice anyway.
"Kenzi, about last night-"
"Tor," she interrupts. "You don't have to say anything."
"I feel like I should."
"Sometimes saying nothing says more."
I laugh into the phone. "You sound like your dad."
"I do, don't I?"
"Yeah." I clear my throat. "I should probably go. I just wanted to hear your voice."
"I really love you, Tor."
She says it like she's declaring the sky is blue. Without one tiny shred of doubt in her mind. Like she knows it's what my heart needs to hear.
"I love you too, Angel."
"I'm eighteen now."
I grip the phone tighter in my hand.
"Trust me, I know."
"I'll be coming back home soon."
Like I haven't been counting down the minutes.
"I know."
"I'm coming after you, Mr. Grace. You can run, but you can't hide." Her words are teasing and playful but the raw truth behind them is undeniable.
Fuck. Stick a fork in me. I'm done.
That night I have a tattoo appointment with my good friend and artist, Lukas Valentine, who also happens to be Asher's cousin.
When he gets me situated in the leather chair in his work area, I hand him the faded piece of paper with the image I want him to do tonight. He looks at it for a few minutes, his black shaggy hair falling over his eyes, then chews his lip ring as he lays the image on his work table.
His silence makes me think I made a mistake having him do this one and I should've gone to someone that I don't know to have a picture tattooed on my chest that was drawn by a little girl. Especially when that little girl happens to be the tattoo artist’s niece.
I'm so fucking stupid.
"So, how ya been, man?" He finally asks, leaning over me in the chair. The familiar buzz and burn of the gun starts in my left pec.
"Good. Work's been busy so that's always good."
He nods. "Same here. Business is going great."
"Asher's been raving about your violin intro on the new CD."
"Yeah?" His eyes immediately light up at the mention of his playing, like a true musician who’s passionate about their craft. Lukas is one of those multi-talented people who can play every instrument under the sun, without ever having had any lessons. His favorite is the violin, and he can go from playing classical to metal on it seamlessly like he was born with the thing in his hand.
"Yeah. He said you fuckin' killed it."
"Good to know." He hums along to the music playing from his mp3 player. "Do you want to talk about this?" He nods at the needle dragging into my skin as he shades in a replica of the heart Kenzi drew for me when she was seven. I like how it hurts to have something she gave me embedded into my skin forever.
I shift uneasily in the chair. "I don't think I can."
Shit. I shouldn't have come here. What the hell was I thinking?
"Understood. I'll do the talking, then."
I trust Lukas. We talk a lot when I come in here to get inked and he's sort of like a goth pseudo therapist. I know he's not going to crucify me, but I also know he's about to throw it down and tell me like it is.
He pulls back to look me in the eye. "You're treading into a minefield, Tor. I'm not gonna lie. But you know that already, don't you?"
"I do."
"I guess I don't have to ask if you love her. The fact that you're getting a heart and the words 'i love the you the most' permanently inked into your chest says it all, doesn't it?"
I wonder if I can admit my feelings for Kenzi out loud to someone. Especially to someone who also loves and cares about her.
I take a deep breath and I let the words out into the air, knowing there's no turning back now.
"Yeah, I love her. More than anything. Nothing's happened, though. I kissed her and that's it." I said it. I just admitted I'm in love with an eighteen-year-old girl. To her uncle. Her real uncle.
He lets out a low, dramatic whistle. "I'm going to assume Asher doesn't know."
"No. Things between her and me changed a few weeks ago. It happened kind of suddenly. My mind is completely fucked over it."
"I'm sure it is." He agrees. "And nothing like that happens suddenly, man. I think it's been happening for a long time."
The fact that it's true makes me wonder if there really is something wrong with me. If I've been falling in love with Kenzi for years; what the hell kind of person does that make me?
"Asher's like a brother to me, Lukas. I love him like he's my own blood. I'd never do anything to disrespect him."
"But...you love her, too."
"I don't want to hurt or lose either of them. But I can't wrap my head around this ever having a happy ending."
He leans back in his stool and lays his gun on the table. "Ivy's twelve years older than me. A lot of people have a hard time with that. Fuck, she had a hard time with it, at first. I had to chase her around to make her see me for me and not as an age."
I glance down at the design on my chest that's half finished. My plan is to show her when she comes back home from Maine. A long time ago I told her I would keep her drawing and her words forever. I'm sure neither one of us ever thought I'd have it marked on my body for the rest of my life, but I want this in a bad way.
"Kenzi is fine with my age. It's harder for me. I used to fuckin' babysit her. I feel like I should have my balls chopped off or get
He lets out a laugh. "Nah. Don't be so hard on yourself. You haven't done anything wrong. The heart wants what the heart wants, man. We don't get to pick who we connect with."
I shake my head with doubt. "Most days I think it's best if I just walk the fuck away."
"She'll haunt you for the rest of your life, Tor. I gotta think that's going to be way worse than facing the truth."
"I really don't know."
"Want my advice? Work this out in your head. If you can't accept your feelings, no one else is going to either." He picks up his gun and goes to work on my chest again. "Talk to her. Figure out if this is something you guys both are willing to fight for. And if it is? Don't let go. Asher will come around. He's not going to let his little girl and his best friend out of his life, trust me. Asher's all about love and family."
That might be true but I don't think Asher is going to be on board with me sleeping with his daughter, no matter how long we've been friends. He'll rip my head off and beat me to death with it.
"Thanks, man. I hope you're right. If I come up missing, my body is probably in pieces somewhere in the woods behind his house."
"That's not going to happen. If you need to talk, I'm here. I don't judge. And to be honest? I think you and Kenzi are good for each other. She's a sweet girl and she's kinda way beyond her years in a lot of ways. I don't think she'd do well with a guy her age at all. Just my two cents."
An hour later I'm riding home with a piece of plastic taped over the evidence declaring that I'm clearly and stupidly in love with Kenzi Valentine. Lukas' words definitely hit home. If I can't accept my feelings for her, no one else will. Especially her.
I'm done being screwed with and treated like a yo-yo. I need someone who's going to commit to me one hundred percent and spend the rest of my life with me. I want to start a family and put all crazy shit behind me. Can I really get that from an eighteen-year-old girl?
21
Kenzi
Tor ~ age seventeen
Asher ~ age seventeen
Asher and I are in his father’s private home studio jamming when Ash drops this huge bomb on me.
"We're getting married two weeks after we graduate."
My hand freezes on my guitar and I stare at him sitting on a stool in front of the mic with a big grin on his face.
"Married?" I repeat.
"Yeah. We don't want to wait. And we're going to get a small apartment in town, I already put a deposit down on it. We don't want to live with my parents anymore."
I blink at him like he's insane. I can't imagine why anyone wouldn't want to live here for their entire life. His parents’ house is monstrous, with an indoor and an outdoor pool, sauna, freakin' music studio, and bathroom for every day of the week. Not to mention a refrigerator that's always stocked with food.
"Ash, you guys are living in a small mansion here. You have your own suite of rooms. You don't even pay rent. Why would you want to move out?"
"Because my parents are always hovering."
"They're hardly ever here."
"We still want our own place. It's not fair for Ember to have to live here with my parents and my brothers and my sister. She needs her own place so she feels like we have our own home. I want you to be my best man, too."
"Well, fuck yeah."
"And we want you to live with us."
Whoa. He's throwing way too much at me and making my head spin.
"Um, come again?"
"Live. With us."
"Are you bent? Why would you want me to live with you?"
"Don't you want to get out of your parents’ house?"
"Yeah, but aren't you getting your own place so you can be alone? Me being there kind of defeats the purpose."
"We want you to live with us. We can write more songs and practice more if we're all together. And we'll need some help with the baby. Kenzi loves you. You're the only one who can get her to stop crying."
I knew there had to be a catch.
"So you want me to be like a live in babysitter?"
He laughs. "I guess. Like a manny. You can pay the cable bill and buy groceries and I'll pay for everything else. C'mon, it'll be fun."
I make a few hundred dollars a month working for my father at his bike shop. The plan is for me to work there full time after I graduate at least until the band takes off and we're living on the road. I can feel it in my gut - we're going to make it big soon.
Asher does landscaping after school and on weekends plus he gets an allowance from his parents just for existing. I think it’s ridiculous, but I don't know what it's like to come from a wealthy family so I keep my mouth shut about it. So, I guess we could afford an apartment. My mom will probably have a shit fit that her oldest baby is moving out, but she'll still have my brothers and sister living there so she won't be dealing with empty nest syndrome yet.
"Do I get my own room?" I ask. "Because I'm not sleeping on the couch every night. I don't want my face where your ass has been sitting."
"Of course you get a room. I'll take you over there tomorrow so you can see it. There's actually a loft upstairs, so you'll be on your own floor with lots of privacy. You know, in case you ever actually date someone." He hints, punching my arm.
"Worry about your own dick. Mine is fine."
That's a bunch of crap, though. My best friend is getting married and has a baby who is almost two years old and I haven't even gotten laid yet. Even though meeting Ember totally accelerated Asher's life plan, from where I'm sitting, he's got everything.
Kenzi
Being back home is bittersweet, and I feel this way every time I come home from visiting Maine. When I'm there, I miss everyone here, but then when I come back home, I miss Aunt Katherine and the peacefulness of the Inn. Before I left, she had a long talk with me and asked me to come live with her and work at the Inn. The thought is very tempting. I just don't know if I'm ready to leave my father, or be that far away from Tor.
My bedroom feels empty without Snuggles in her spot by the window that she spent twelve years inhabiting. I'm grateful my father cleaned her cage and put it in the basement so I wouldn't have to see it, so barren without her, as soon as I got home.
There was a tiny black organza bag on my nightstand when I got home, and inside it was a small tuft of her fur.
Underneath it I found a handwritten note:
I thought you might want to have this to remember her.
Love forever & longer,
Tor
Today I read the note again, my heart bursting with even more love for him over the incredibly thoughtful and sweet things he always does for me. I don't even think that Tor tries to be this way; it just comes naturally for him.
I can't help but wonder if he did things like this for Sydni. Or Lisa. Or are these gestures and sentiments only for me due to our long history? As selfish as it seems, I want this side of him to be only for me. Reserved for me alone and no one else.
I didn't text Tor last night when I got home because I spent hours sitting with my father on the patio talking about everything we missed in each other’s lives over the past two months. At one point, he went inside to get a cold drink and came back with three gift-wrapped boxes for me, all in pink paper with silver bows.
"Dad, you didn't have to get me gifts."
"Don't be crazy," he leans down and kisses the top of my head before taking his seat across from me. "I can't believe you're eighteen. That blows my mind, baby. It feels like just yesterday we brought you home and had no idea what to do with you."
I smile at him as I open the largest box. "You did great, Dad. I made it to eighteen without ever smoking pot, getting drunk, or getting pregnant. And I'm pretty sure I've never told you to go screw yourself. So, job well done."
"When you put it that way, I feel like the best father on the planet."
"To me you are."
Pushing the white tissue paper aside, I pull out a charcoal sketch of Snuggles on canvas. My hand flies to my mouth as I choke back tears.
"Daddy...oh my God. It's my Snuggles. This means so much to me." In the lower right corner is the signature of my uncle Lukas, and that just makes this even more special. Lukas is an amazing artist.
"I didn't have any pictures of her so Lukas had to draw her from his memory. I hope it's okay. He said he can fix anything that you'd like changed, or he can start over with a new one."
"No." I reply quickly, taking in all the details of the incredibly realistic drawing. Lukas captured her exactly and I wouldn't change a thing. "It's absolutely perfect. I'm going to have to call him and thank him."
"Actually he'll be here tomorrow night for your bonfire birthday get-together, so you can thank him in person."
"Even better."
Smiling, I pick up the next box and unwrap it as he takes a few pictures of me.
"I want your mom to see these someday." He says, and I must make an involuntary face because he quickly puts his cell phone back down on the table and holds his hands up like he's surrendering. "Okay, I won't take anymore and we won't talk about that. Just open your presents."
This box is filled with different types of stationery, a new leather planner, monogrammed note cards, and matching envelopes.
"Aw, Dad. You're feeding my new planner addiction. I love it."
"Chloe told me you wanted that one to go with the ten others you have." He teases.
"I did. I'm going to actually use this one, though." I have no idea what I'll be planning, but I feel like it will motivate me to do something every day if I have to write it down.
My dad slides the last, and smallest box across the table to me.
"I've been waiting to give you this one."
I put my hand on it and study his face. "Uh oh. That means it's going to be extra special. Is it going to make me cry?"
"It might."
I open the box slowly, and inside is a smaller, red velvet oval box. It has a tiny gold clasp that I lift with my fingernail, and inside is a white gold and diamond watch that belonged to my mother, gifted down to her on her eighteenth birthday from her Grandmother. My mom absolutely loved this watch and only wore it on very special occasions like Christmas and her and dad's wedding anniversary.
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