Home to You

Home > Other > Home to You > Page 12
Home to You Page 12

by Taylor Sullivan


  I shook my head in an “it’s nothing” kind of way, but the silence that fell over the group proved otherwise.

  Jake placed his empty plate to the side of the blanket, then sat forward and rested his arm on his knee. “Did Justin ever tell you he’s afraid of ghosts?” His tone was deadpan, and Justin burst into fits of laughter.

  I chewed my inner cheek, then smiled, and started laughing too.

  We spent the rest of the afternoon joking and playing around in the surf, and it was nearly sunset by the time we had everything packed and loaded in the truck. I dusted as much sand from my body as possible, then climbed into the cab of Jake’s truck to get settled for the long drive home. Kimberly appeared at my window to ask for my number, but my eyes were locked on Justin as he pulled Jake off to the side.

  “—someone’s going to get hurt.” Justin’s voice was a forced whisper, which of course piqued my curiosity.

  “I know what I’m doing,” Jake replied, and I got the sinking feeling he was talking about us.

  “Yeah, like you did three years ago?” It was Justin again, which didn’t surprise me. He was always the one to get involved in everyone else’s business.

  Justin glanced up, and I looked down at Kimberly’s phone pretending to punch in numbers.

  His voice lowered. “You’re leading her on and you know it—”

  Jake pulled on his arm, and they both moved farther down the road where the sound of cars blocked their voices, and I could no longer hear what was going on.

  I handed the phone back to Kimberly, whose eyes met mine, and I knew she’d overheard too.

  The ride home was relatively quiet, which gave me time to consider all that was said. I was positive Justin had been talking about me—there was really no other explanation—and I knew he was right about the flirtation. It had to stop. I was treading in deep waters, and soon I wouldn’t be able to hold my head up any longer. I needed to protect my heart, and I wasn’t a good enough swimmer to come up for air if I were to sink again. I rested my head against the warm glass of my window, and my body sagged with defeat.

  “Close your eyes, it’s been a long day.”

  I glanced over at Jake, to the bits of sand that still lingered in his messy hair, his face bronze from spending the day in the sun, and the lips I was so tempted to kiss earlier. My heart squeezed. I couldn’t let myself get close to him again. As good as it felt, our closeness was what led to all my heartache, and I couldn’t survive that again.

  With my head still resting against the window, and one foot tucked under me in the seat, I closed my eyes, and let my mind drift.

  When we came to a stop an hour later, I opened my eyes, realizing we were already home. My face was tucked into his shoulder, my body plastered to his side, and I wiped my mouth, hoping I hadn’t been drooling.

  “Sorry,” I muttered and moved away. Even in my sleep I was drawn to him.

  He grinned down at me, his eyes hooded and tired. “That was nothing,” he teased. “It was the snoring that was annoying.”

  My eyes went wide, but then his smile grew and his eyes twinkled with amusement.

  “See, you are mean.” I opened my door and climbed out. “Don’t mess with me, Jake. My lipstick collection has grown, and your toys are much more expensive.”

  His laughter followed me as I shut my door, and my heart dropped with regret. It was so easy to play with him—but I needed to stop. We both grabbed bags from the back of the truck, and I was so loaded, I lost my footing as I walked up the front steps.

  “Careful, beautiful,” Jake said from behind me, grabbing my waist to hold me steady.

  I closed my eyes, wanting to stay there forever, but forced myself to pull away.

  Jake punched the code into front door, and I moved swiftly to the kitchen to put the remaining drinks from the ice chests in the fridge. As I watched the ice water swirl down the drain, my heart grew heavier and heavier—my thoughts consumed with Justin’s words at the beach.

  “Go to bed, Katie. I’ll finish up.”

  I turned around, finding Jake leaning in the doorway. His hair messy in that way that only came from playing in the sea. He looked exhausted… and happy. God I loved him. I didn’t want to, but I did. He filled my veins, consumed my thoughts, and no amount of time would ever get him out.

  WITH WET HAIR AND A bad mood, I sat perched on the edge of my bed. My computer was in my lap, cursor hovering over the button that read buy now with 1-click. The wedding was only two days away, and I’d already put the purchase off too long. Twenty-one hundred dollars. I even had to pay extra for overnight shipping.

  But I couldn’t help the little voice in my head that told me I should forget the whole thing. It would be easier that way. If I didn’t buy the lens, I’d have enough money to move out and get an apartment. I wouldn’t have to torture myself daily with the man who’d never be mine. But at the same time, I’d be giving up on my dream and turning into the person I hated. The one who ran away when things got hard. Taking a deep breath, I clicked the button, then slapped my laptop closed and set it on the table.

  Sleep hadn’t brought me clarity; it made me grumpy.

  I had no idea what I was doing, or even what possessed me to believe staying with Jake would be a good idea. I was naive, and now I’d spent practically every penny I had on a dream.

  I pulled myself to stand, yanked my sandy sheets from the bed, and stormed out of the room.

  If he wasn’t so perfect, things would be different. If he didn’t have a girlfriend, I wouldn’t feel quite as bad. The truth was, I’d shut my feelings off in a heartbeat if I only knew how—but loving Jake had always been like breathing for me. I could stop, hold my breath until my face turned blue, but eventually I would gasp for air, breathing him in because my life depended on it.

  I wanted to cry, to throw myself on the floor and flail like a little girl. But I pushed back the tears, threw open the garage door, and shoved the sheets in the washer. As if on cue, there was a knock at the front door, and I rolled my eyes. I didn’t want to see anyone, didn’t want to talk or even look at anyone either. But the knock came again, and I stalked to the front door and yanked it open.

  “Whoa!” Em said, her eyes wide from the front porch. “What’s his name? I’ll kick his ass and be right back.”

  My face softened, and I actually laughed. I must have looked like a total lunatic. Shaking my head at my own misery, I stepped aside to let her in.

  “What happened?” she asked as she stepped into the living room.

  “Nothing...I just hate laundry.” It was a lame excuse, I knew that, but I couldn’t tell her the truth. Jake was her friend, and she wouldn’t understand. She might even hate me for it.

  “Well shit, Katie, tell me how you really feel?” She laughed, then looked down to the bag she held in her hands. “Where should we set up?”

  “Oh, right.” The website, I’d almost forgotten. “Kitchen?” I suggested.

  We moved to the breakfast table, and Em proceeded to set up a little office. She opened her laptop, set some papers to the table, then put on a pair of cat-eyed glasses that made me smile. Everything about her was unique; everything she did exuded confidence.

  She glanced up and narrowed her eyes. “Why do you look like you’ve just come back from a Caribbean vacation?”

  I reached up to touch my pinkened cheeks. “We went to the beach yesterday.”

  “You and Jake?” Her brows cinched with surprise.

  “Yeah, why?” Did she know? Could she see my heart on my sleeve like everyone always could? I turned toward the cupboard and busied myself making a fresh pot of coffee.

  “I don’t know…he’s just such a workaholic. Good for him though, he needs a break from being so serious all the time.”

  I paused with the carafe halfway to the coffee maker. He didn’t seem serious to me. He’d been playful, maybe even carefree, but not serious.

  “So do you have any ideas?” Em asked, breaking me from my tho
ughts.

  “Not really.” I poured the rest of the water in the machine and forced a laugh. “I’m going to make a sandwich, you want one?”

  “Sure.” She glanced up, considering me, then began typing again. “We should have a barbecue tomorrow.”

  I pulled the ingredients for turkey sandwiches from the fridge. “Okay.”

  “Great.” She opened up her phone and began punching out a message. “There.”

  I shook my head. “What?”

  “The barbecue? I just asked you about it.” She shook her head.

  “Oh—sorry, I didn’t sleep well last night. What about it?”

  She laughed. “I just sent a message to Jake and John letting them know.” She leaned forward and removed her glasses. “Are you sure you want to do this today? You seem off.”

  “I just—” I put the bread and turkey on the counter. “I had to spend a fortune on a new lens today. Money always stresses me out.”

  She nodded, an expression of complete understanding crossed her features, and she began typing again.

  We spent the rest of the afternoon eating sandwiches and sharing ideas over a whole pot of coffee. Even though I hadn’t wanted her there earlier, I was now glad for the company. It didn’t change the fact that I still had no idea what I was doing, but at least I wasn’t as grumpy anymore.

  Em downed the rest of her coffee, then leaned back in her chair. “Well, I think I have everything I need from you. The rest is boring stuff I’ll do at home.”

  “Thanks for doing this. I was going to try and figure something out on my own, but having a site of this quality will be amazing.”

  She shot me a warm smile as she began packing away her computer. “I’m glad to help.”

  I stood and stretched my stiff muscles. “When do you want to do your photo shoot?”

  She shrugged. “What are you doing today?”

  I glanced around the kitchen and put the bread clip back on the bag. “You’re looking at it.”

  She raised her brows. “What should I wear?”

  I shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

  “Come with me. I hate making decisions on my own.”

  “Sure, just let me go grab my gear.”

  “Shoot.” Her voice made me stop, and I turned around to see her pulling at the ends of her hair. “I just remembered, I have a date tonight. Do you mind following me?” She messed up her face, and I chuckled.

  “That’s fine.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Em pushed open the rusty gate to her apartment building. It was only ten minutes from Jake’s house, but the neighborhood was so different. I was surprised the building wasn’t condemned by its appearance alone. We climbed the rickety steps to the second floor, and I swore I could feel them sway under my feet. I wasn’t sure where I expected Em to live, but this wasn’t it. Not that it was all bad, but she drove a sports car and wore designer dresses, for Christ’s sake.

  Her apartment was clean and cozy, but very small. The front room, including the kitchen, was about the size of my bedroom at Jake’s. She dropped her bag on the delicate table by the door then walked to the fridge to grab a water bottle. “Want one?”

  I nodded and she tossed me a bottle. “Make yourself at home. I’m just going to go get myself fixed up.”

  She disappeared through the only other door in the room, and I was left to look around the place. The couch was bright blue and ran along one wall, a small yellow coffee table sat in front, and a large photograph of a field of tiny daisies hung behind it.

  But it was the bookcase dominating the apartment that intrigued me most. I walked closer, running my finger along the glossy white shelf as I examined the titles. Outlander by Diana Gabaldon, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, and poetry by Maya Angelou. But then my eyes locked on the collection of Little Golden Books on the top shelf. More than I’d ever seen in one place. I pulled one from the collection—a copy of The Poky Puppy—and began flipping through the pages. For some reason it didn’t surprise me. She seemed like one of those people who wasn’t in a rush to grow up.

  I placed it back on the shelf, looked over the other titles, then noticed a frame tucked among the bindings. It was a simple golden frame that matched the books perfectly. Behind the glass was a picture of a small child with chubby little cheeks. A boy who looked to be about two, grasping the handlebars of a red tricycle.

  “What do you think?” Em asked, and I turned around to see her standing in the doorway. She wore a simple white sheath dress and black pumps. Her hair was sleek and smooth, her lips red, with a single gold bangle on her left wrist. Classic.

  “It’s perfect.” I smiled at her, then noticed her eyes on the photograph. “Who’s this?” I asked, handing her the frame.

  The corner of her mouth turned up in a sad smile. “Just a little boy who stole my heart.” She placed the frame back on the shelf, then turned to the bedroom. “I thought I could do a more casual look too? What do you think?”

  “Yeah, sure.” My brows furrowed. “Whatever you want.”

  We got carried away during the shoot, and when we returned to the apartment the sun had already begun to set. By the time I was finished with the bathroom, Em had already changed into a blue strapless dress and red stilettos.

  “I hate to rush you out the door, but I’m supposed to be there at eight.” She bit her bottom lip, then glanced at her phone and snapped it away in her small clutch.

  “Don’t worry about me.” I grabbed my bags and hurried out the door.

  The rusty gate clanged behind us as she ran across the parking lot to her car. “I’ll call you in the morning about the barbecue,” she said, then blew me a kiss and ducked into her convertible.

  I shook my head as I hoisted my gear bag over my shoulder. Our lives couldn’t have been more different. I was heading back to a house that wasn’t my own, in a car that was ten years old, still dressed in my shorts and a tank top I’d thrown on after my shower. While she was off to a fancy dinner with what I imagined to be a sophisticated man. A different one than her black-tie dinner just the night before.

  Maybe I should have asked her to set me up? Maybe it would help me forget...

  Seated behind the wheel of my hatchback, I checked my phone to see there were no messages. I thought about calling Jake, to offer to pick something up for dinner, but quickly changed my mind. A group of men walked into the parking lot, and I decided I’d better be on my way. I turned the key in the ignition, but it only clicked, and my heart leapt to my throat. Shit!

  I tried again, my hands starting to shake—but again, nothing. Shit. Shit. Shitty Shit!

  One hand flew to my brow, while the other reached down to pop the hood. I stepped out of the car, spent an eternity trying to find the stupid latch thing, then finally lifted the hood and realized I had no clue what I was looking for. I glanced up, hoping one of the men would take pity on the poor girl with the broken car, but the neighborhood really wasn’t good, the sun was going down fast, and the group of men didn’t exactly look inviting.

  I blew out a breath and climbed back into the front seat. I was going to have to call Jake. My pride hurt, but the need for self-preservation was stronger.

  I grumbled under my breath, pulled out my phone, and debated whether to call or text.

  Text. I’d be able to imagine away the roll of his eyes much easier.

  ME: Are you busy?

  His reply came a few seconds later.

  JAKE: No. You OK?

  I let out a sigh. Why did he always assume something’s wrong? Maybe because the last time you called something was.

  I took a deep breath before typing again.

  ME: My car won’t start.

  JAKE: Where are you? I’ll be right there.

  Twenty minutes later, Jake pulled into the space beside me. I stepped out of my car, both grateful and embarrassed at the same time. But when he climbed out of his seat, my heart sank. He was dressed in gray slacks and a blue button-up shirt—he looked amazing�
�and one thing was certain, he had been in the middle of something.

  Then the passenger door opened, and an immaculately dressed Grace climbed out of the other side.

  Perfect! Not only did I pull him away from something, I pulled him away from the something he was doing with Grace. I wanted to kick myself for feeling a little happy about that.

  “You okay?” Jake asked, as he grabbed a set of jumper cables from the metal box in the bed of his truck.

  I nodded. Why did he have to be so sweet? But I already knew the answer. He cared about me. Just in the most horrible way I could think of. Like he would a little sister.

  “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important,” I said to Grace. She was wearing a gray trapeze dress and navy heels—from the way she looked, I very much did.

  “It’s fine,” she replied, but her tone did nothing to convince me.

  “I must have left a light on.” I chewed on my nails. Not only was it embarrassing to need Jake’s help, but my appearance did me no favors tonight. I was filthy from lying on the ground during Em’s photo shoot, and she was dressed like a supermodel.

  Jake clamped the cables to his battery, then walked over to stand in front of my car. His brows furrowed. “Your cables are loose.”

  “What?” I walked to the front of my car and stood beside him.

  He turned to unhook the cables from his truck, then tossed them in the back. “They’re loose.”

  “What? How?”

  “Probably because you don’t take care of your car,” he lectured. “Where is Em anyway? You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

  “She had a date.” I fidgeted with the ends of my hair.

  “Great.” He shut his hood. “I don’t know why she stays in this dump. It’s not like she doesn’t have the money.”

  I’d thought the very same thing not long ago, but now I was defensive. “Would you stop. It’s not her fault.”

  Grace cleared her throat. “Can you just hook up the battery so we can go? We’re already late.” She was leaning against the truck, and annoyed would be an understatement.

  “I’m so sorry. If I’d known you guys were going somewhere—”

 

‹ Prev