I hop off the counter, rushing forward. “Let him go,” I order. Shawn throws his head back, looking at me like I’m crazy, shaking his head but after a beat, he finally lets go.
Shane pivots, bumping into me as he turns around to face his brother, but I don’t fall. His arm shoots out behind me, grabbing my hip in a gesture that is almost too gentle for what’s transpiring. Shane’s angrier at me right now, than he has ever been before, but even so, he wouldn’t let any harm come to me. He’s still protective. And that shows me right there, how different he is than Blake, than any other person I know. Someone else wouldn’t care if I fell, hurting myself. Shane would.
“If you ever grab me like that again, I will lay your ass out. Are we clear?”
Shawn laughs.
Ah, fuck. Does he not have any sense?
“Babe?” Taralynn calls.
“I mean it, little brother. Don’t ever grab me like that again.”
“Then don’t get in your woman’s face like that ever again, and I won’t.” Shawn stands straighter, stepping into Shane’s face as if to prove something.
I step up behind Shane, placing my hands on his hips. This is all my fault, but I still want him to know I’m on his side. I have his back before anyone else, even if I didn’t show that before.
If he forgives me for keeping this from him, I want him to know and believe I’ll always have his back.
“You’re one to talk.” Shane is taking his anger out on Shawn. That I’m sure of. “It took thinking she was dead for you to open your eyes.” Shane juts his arm out, pointing toward Taralynn. I don’t know what he means by that, but my curiosity has been piqued. “And she could have. It could have been her on the back of that motorcycle. And all because you’re an asshole.”
Taralynn’s face turns to horror, and the only sound is the sudden rush of air she pulls into her mouth.
Then silence.
“I’m out of here.” Shawn’s face is emotionless, but it’s obvious what Shane said has gotten to him.
He leaves, exiting the kitchen, then seconds later the front door closes with a loud bang.
Shit, I hope we haven’t woken his parents. I’m not worried about the girls. They could both sleep through an earthquake, I’m sure of it.
“You had to bring that shit up?” Taralynn looks at Shane like she’s disappointed in him. Her arms cross over her chest, then she shakes her head. “He hasn’t forgiven himself. He doesn’t trust himself not to screw up again.” She sighs heavily. “He didn’t need that, Shane.”
Shane takes my hands, pulling them around his middle, but he doesn’t respond to Taralynn. Not unless he’s communicating silently. I can’t see his face with mine plastered against his back. Taralynn hasn’t stopped staring at him though.
We all stand in the kitchen. The silence is deafening.
Finally, after a minute, Taralynn turns, leaving the same way her boyfriend did.
His chest expands, then he lets an almost violent breath shutter out of him. I tighten my arms around his middle feeling like the shittiest person on the planet for what I did to him.
“She was right,” he says as he pulls away from me. A cold gush of air winds around my body and I don’t like it one bit. “I shouldn’t have thrown that in his face.”
“Which was what?” I prompt.
His shoulders square and without looking at me, he says, “Not what you should be worried about right now.” Then he walks out of the house exiting through sliding glass door to the backyard.
Fuck.
My shoulders sag, then my head falls back onto my shoulders.
Never once did Shane threaten our relationship back when we dated in high school. That was what I did. But this isn’t high school, and we aren’t kids anymore. Hell, we aren’t actually in a relationship. I’m still married for who knows how long and Shane and I haven’t discussed a future—or us.
So exactly what is there for him to threaten?
Still, it feels like I’ve lost him and that’s what kicks me in the ass.
I’ll be damned if I act like I did back then. I’m an adult. An adult with her memory back. It’s my second chance. I can’t lose him. Not again.
I follow, not sure what I’m about to walk into.
I find him sitting inside the children’s wooden play gym out back. He climbed to the top level where there’s a square section behind the big slide.
Putting my foot onto the ladder, I pull up, seeing him sitting with his back against the wood panels, his knees bent with his arms resting on top of them.
I stand here, feet on ladder and hands gripping both sides of the handles on each side of the opening with my eyes on him. Shane knows I’m here, but he hasn’t raised his head to meet my eyes.
Deciding I’m not going to wait for an invitation, I step up another rung; then another and another until I’m able to plant my shin onto the platform, crawling inside with him. Sitting on my calves, I face him, and wait. I’m not leaving until he talks to me—until we’ve fixed this divide between us.
It’s several minutes—several long, agonizing minutes before he does anything other than breathe in and out. There’s a slight chill in the air. It’s not cold, but I can see a faint fog as his breath exits his mouth.
I’m about to ask him to talk to me when he lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine instantly. My words get lodged in my throat. A part of me wants to die—and maybe a small piece does—because what I see makes my heart plummet. My eyes sting, wanting to cry.
One lone tear drops from his lower eyelid. And that one liquid drop makes me spring forward. His knees part to allow me inside. I don’t waste a second, fearing he’ll push me away or close me off. I quickly straddle his lap and place my palms on his shoulders.
I need to feel him touching me as much as I need to touch him.
As if he knows that—and he probably does—his hands glide up and inside my fitted T-shirt. Despite the chill in the air, his palms are warm. He tips me forward so that we are torso to torso. His eyes flick up to mine, making my insides contract and fist. They show just how bad I’ve messed up—I’ve betrayed him. And that makes me feel the lowest I’ve ever felt in my life.
My nose starts to burn as all the feelings I’ve been holding in starts to come forth. “I’m sorry.” I press my forehead against his, pushing forward and trying to hold everything in. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t. I’m sorry.” I can’t stomach his tears. I can’t. I won’t be able to hold mine in much longer.
“How could you keep that from me, Love?”
“I . . . I don’t know. I’m sorry.” I’ll grovel. I’ll beg. I’ll do whatever will stop him from hurting.
“You do,” he says through clenched teeth. His hands tighten ever so slightly around my waist. “Tell me why, Love,” he says through gritted teeth. “Tell me something.”
I flick my eyes away from his, looking up at the sky. There used to be a small roof covering this area, but it’s gone now, and the stars shine brightly in the dark sky.
I let out a shutter of breath.
There isn’t anything I can say that isn’t an excuse. I don’t want to give him an excuse. It is what it is. I kept something important from him and for no good reason.
“It was just all too much, all at once.”
“That’s your excuse?” He sounds bitter. Hell, what did I expect? I could have avoided this had I just opened my mouth and told him.
I can’t blame him either. I’m bitter, resentful; I’m enraged at what was kept from me. And here I am doing the same thing.
“No,” I stress on a sigh. “I don’t have any excuses for what I did.”
“So then why did you?”
“Does it matter? I shouldn’t have.”
“Actually, yes it does.”
“Between everything you were telling me and everything I was seeing and believing about my life since waking up in that hospital room.” I sniffle, sucking up everything that wants to drain out of me. “Then I got m
y memory back. I just . . .” I look back down. “It was all too much. I didn’t want to deal with one more thing.”
“That was a real shitty thing to do to me, Love.”
A sob breaks through my throat. “I know.” Tears leak from my eyes, and there isn’t one damn thing I can do to stop them. “I’m sorry. I wish I could go back and change what I did. I do.” His hands slide around me, going up my back. His comfort just makes it all that much worse. I don’t deserve his mercy, his love. I don’t deserve him.
My heartbeat starts to increase rapidly, and my breaths speed up and shorten at the same time. My chest tightens, and my head feels too light.
“Love?” His voice edged with panic.
“I’m no . . . better than they are?”
“What?”
Anxiety creeps up my spine as too many emotions rush forward.
“They kept me from you; you from Everly. I did the same. I’m no better than my parents and Blake.”
What have I done?
The harder I try to get air into my lungs the more I feel like I can’t breathe.
“Whitney, stop. You’re going to hyperventilate.” I hear him and I know I’m looking at him, but my vision blurs. I can’t breathe. Panic sets in. “Love, I said stop.” Something tightens around my scalp, and my body shakes as if someone is forcing my movements.
Will he resent me, like I resent them? No. He can’t.
I try to shake my head furiously, but I can’t move it more than an inch or so. It’s like I’m not in control of my own body.
Suddenly it all stops. As quickly as it started, it’s all washed away. I can breathe again. I can focus. Cool air rains down my nostrils, filling my body with the oxygen I was denied moments ago. Shane’s lips are pressed against mine in an all-consuming, revitalizing kiss.
It was him. Realization dawns as the tightness incasing my scalp relax. His hand lets my hair go and roams down my back. His mouth releases my lips, moving alongside my jaw and then down my neck, peppering kisses all over my skin.
Shane’s cock hardens, growing and pressing against me, pushing through the materials of our clothes. There is too much fabric between us.
When his hand reaches the small of my back, he takes the material of my shirt into both hands, then he pulls up, taking my shirt and forcing my arms to raise above my head. In seconds, my shirt is off, and his lips are back on me again, kissing the other side along my collarbone, then up my neck until he reaches my ear. “I’m furious with you, but don’t ever think I’ve stopped wanting you. Today, tomorrow, fifty goddamn years from now I’ll love you, Love. Even when I’m angry with you.” His teeth latch onto my earlobe, biting and dragging downward until only his lips are left, smoothing the area he just inflicted minor pain to.
His fingers slide up my arms and over my shoulders, pausing briefly, then the straps of my bra are yanked down my arms, taking it down my body where he leaves it around my waist. The chill in the air hits my nipples, hardening them and erupting goose bumps across my skin.
He grabs my ass next, squeezing my jean-clad cheeks and lifting me upward. “I love you too, Shane.” When his mouth latches onto my breast, I almost lose all thoughts. He has a way of getting inside me, consuming me. “So much.” I finally force out when I regain my bearings.
His teeth pinch as he drags them off my nipple. “I’ve never once doubted that, Love.” Shane’s eyes flick up to mine, making me pull in a stream of air. He’s silent only for a second, but in that second those eyes penetrate through me. One of his hands roams up my back and into my hair, grabbing the strands closest to my roots, fisting them. “Now I need you to stop doubting me.” Then he bends me, bringing my lips to his. Yanking me off him, he looks deep into my eyes and says, “Us.” Then my lips crash into his once more, and he’s devouring me once again.
Wanting more, needing more, I drop my hands, finding his belt buckle. Once it’s undone, I move to the button on his pants, unbuttoning and sliding the zipper down as fast as humanly possible. Thank God, he helps me by lifting his butt so I can slide his jeans down his legs.
I leave his boxer briefs fully on, pulling his dick through the opening. No need for both of us to get splinters from the wood below us.
He does the same to me, getting my pants off as fast as he can before threading his fingers back through my hair. Then he pulls my mouth back to his hungry lips.
I can’t help myself; I fist his cock in my hand, needing to feel his silky, smooth hardness. Pulling my hand down his length, I twist my wrist, making my hand slide around until my hand reaches the head. With my thumb, I run the pad of my finger back and forth over his opening. His lips disconnect from me as he sucks in a sharp breath of air through his clenched teeth.
His pre-cum wets me, evoking a smile out of me as I guide him to my opening.
Shane slips inside of me effortlessly thanks to how wet he’s made me. “Fuuuuuuck,” he draws out.
Once he’s fully seated to the hilt, inside my pussy, I wrap my arms around his neck and look into his eyes. “I don’t doubt us, baby. I doubt me sometimes, but not us. I want us now and forever.” Rising slowly, I drag his cock back out until just the tip is inside me. “I’m mad that we lost so much time.” I drop down, taking him back inside so quickly that I gasp for air.
“I’m mad too.” This time with his hands on my hips, he pulls me up. “So fucking mad.” Then he plunges me back onto him, making me bite down on my lip to stifle a scream. It’s late, and I don’t want to wake his parents or the girls. “But what’s done is done,” he tells me through a locked jaw.
Shane holds me in place longer than I want, so I try to lift myself up. It’s no use. He’s keeping me where he wants me. “Slow down, Love. I’m about to blow my shit.”
I shouldn’t, but I do it anyway. Leaning forward, I brush my lips against his ear. “So come inside me.”
“Fuck.”
I’m lifted and yanked back down. He does this over and over again until his cock swells, and I’m starting to get dizzy. Shane leans into me, and a second later his teeth latch onto my shoulder, biting down as his cum coats my insides.
When he’s done coming, he licks the marks I’m sure he left on my skin. Then he kisses me, working his way over to my neck, up my chin and then he takes my lips in a slow, torturous, but sweet invasion.
I’m lifted off him. Using his finger, he gathers his cum and runs it slowly from my opening to my clit. My legs clench automatically. “Oh,” I moan. “Yes.”
His fingers slip up and down, rubbing me just the right way. I can’t make it last. It’s impossible. He’s too good at what he’s doing. I come hard, legs shaking uncontrollably.
It takes more than a minute to gain my bearings back, but when I do, I look around us. “Well,” I draw out. “This is one place we’ve never christened before.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I guess not.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Shane Braden
I may not be completely over being left in the dark. That was another month added to the time I wasn’t allowed to be a father to my little girl. Another month lost that I can’t get back. And a month Everly must have been confused. Hell, the kid is probably still confused.
But no more. Starting tomorrow, I plan on making up as much time as humanly possible.
We’re lying in my bed in my old bedroom. There’s a comfortable silence between us. My head is propped against two thick pillows, and Whitney is snuggled in my arms with her head on my bare chest, and her thigh draped over and tucked between my legs.
I know she doesn’t realize just how right her being here makes my world. Her presence settles me. It always did. Most people didn’t get that I knew she was the one when I was fifteen-years-old. Everyone thought I was crazy and dumb. I don’t think it happens often, but I’m proof that it is possible to find the other half of your soul when you’re still a kid.
I could stay mad at her for what she did. I get it. I do. I don’t like it, but I get it. And
what would be the point in dwelling on something neither one of us can change. We have the here and now and our future. And I’ll be damned if the three of them are taken from me ever again. There is no Hell I wouldn’t go through just to know they are mine until the day I die.
“Whit?”
I place my hand on top of where hers is resting flat against my chest, over my heart.
She lifts her head, tipping it back to look up at me. “Yeah?”
Before I’m able to open my mouth, my cell phone chimes, alerting me of an incoming text message. I lean over, moving Whitney with me to reach over her to grab my cell phone from the nightstand.
It’s a message from Kylie. When I open it, I see she’s sent a video. She was supposed to FaceTime me tonight, but I guess she changed her mind.
Leaning back down, I get comfortable and hit play.
“Hey.” There’s a pause, then she looks away from her phone briefly. Toward the sky, I’m guessing by the angle of her head. After a second, her face comes back into focus on the video. “So I know I said we’d FaceTime after I got off, but as you can see I chickened out. Plus, you got all your crap going on, and well, this is probably better. Happy Thanksgiving.” She laughs, but there isn’t an ounce of humor in her voice. “I said it. I’ve said it a lot to patients all day today and haven’t meant it once. That’s awful, isn’t it?”
A tear drops, rolling quickly down her cheek, making my chest tighten. I hate that she’s alone in a city too far away for me to drive over just to give my friend the hug I know she needs.
“I know I’m being ungrateful for everything I have, but there isn’t anything I’m thankful for. And happy?” She snorts. “Fuck happiness.” She stares at the screen, her eyes on the camera. “See why I didn’t want to call live?” She blinks, and more tears cascade down.
Ah, hell. The weight piles back on my chest; taking root and cementing itself at center mass.
Wiping her face using the back of her hand, she blinks a few times to sniffles.
“And you can stop whatever it is you’re feeling about this video too. I know you. And I know you’re feeling guilty. You don’t even realize you’re feeling guilty, but I do, and I’m not even seeing those eyes of yours. I just know you.” There’s a second or two pause before she continues. “Deep down I am happy for you and I’m happy you have her back, but at this moment I can’t fathom one shred of happiness for myself, so . . .” She trails, not finishing, and I get what she’s saying about me feeling guilty, because I do feel for her when she’s hurting so badly. But I’ve waited too long to get Whitney back. Kylie and I have wallowed in sorrow together for a long time. It’s time for me to be happy—I have a second chance. I’m not letting anyone, not even my best friend, make me feel guilty for having her in my arms.
More Than Memories: A Second Chance Standalone Romance Page 23
