Make It Last

by Megan Erickson

  He led her out to his truck and helped her in the passenger seat.

  As he started the car, she said, “I should have called more friends or something. I should have tracked him down.”

  “He’s okay, Tate.”

  “But—”

  “He’s banged up a little and from what it sounded like, his car’s a wreck. But he’s alive and he’s okay.”

  She stopped talking then, until they got to the hospital. Cam dropped her off at the entrance to the emergency room and she rushed in. Jamie was already being seen, so she sat in a cold metal chair, jiggling her leg and chewing on a thumbnail.

  When Cam strolled in, he sat beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. “He’s being seen already?”

  Tate glanced around the sparsely populated waiting room. “Yep.”

  He patted her shoulder in reply.

  “Did he say what was wrong? Why he had to be here?”

  “It was hard to hear him on the phone, but something about his wrist.”

  She bent her head and rubbed her hands on her jeans. “He needed that car and that job. Damn it. We needed that paycheck.”

  He moved his hand to cup the side of her head and laid it on his shoulder. “We’ll figure something out.”

  There was that we again. Like they were a team. A family. And she was letting it happen, like it was no big thing to believe that Cam would be around forever. But it was hard. Because that big job in New York beckoned and how could he stay in this town with her?

  And she couldn’t leave with him. Not when her dad was sick and Jamie was a mess. She was needed here. And the sooner she remembered that she was better off not relying on someone else, the better. But Cam’s fingers rubbed soothing circles on her scalp. And his shoulder warmed her cheek. And he smelled good. And maybe she could enjoy this now, while it lasted. As long as she kept in mind there was an expiration date.

  They sat in silence, Cam’s fingers doing their magic. And Tate wondered if she could fall asleep here. But then a throat cleared, and she raised her head.

  Jamie stood before them, his face dark, a cast on his left wrist. His clothes were wrinkled and his shoes untied. He looked like shit.

  But damn, was she glad to see him in one piece.

  She stood up and walked to him, throwing her arms around his stiff form. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” She felt fingers flutter over her hips, but his arms didn’t return her embrace. And when she stepped back, Jamie’s eyes were over her head, his glare fixed on Cam. “What are you doing here?”

  “I think you don’t need to worry about that. I gave your sister a ride.”

  “She can’t fucking drive herself now?”

  “Watch your mouth.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do.”

  Cam’s jaw clenched, and Tate figured this was when she needed to step in. “Look, you two can argue all you want when we get home. Can we please leave the hospital?”

  Jamie grunted and turned on his heel, walking out of the doors of the emergency room with a slight limp. Tate trotted to his side. “What’s wrong with your leg?”

  “Just twisted my ankle a little. It’s fine.”

  She motioned to Jamie toward where Cam’s truck was parked in the visitor parking garage. She glanced over her shoulder at Cam, who was walking behind them, staring holes in the back of Jamie’s head.

  She turned again to face her brother. “What happened?”

  He shrugged jerkily. “Took a corner too tight. Hit a tree.”

  She gasped. “Jesus. You hit a tree?”

  “It wasn’t a big tree.”

  “I don’t really care how big the tree was.”

  Jamie fell silent and he asked the question she was dreading. “How’s the car?”

  Another shrug. “The front is kinda in a V-shape, what do you think?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think it’s funny.”

  “I’m not laughing,” he shot back.

  “How did you wreck?”

  “Took a corner too fast, car slid. I overcorrected and the tree got in my way.”

  “Again, not funny.”

  “Again, not laughing.”

  Tate stopped asking questions.

  The car ride was tense. Jamie sat in the cab of the truck behind Tate and Cam. Tate could feel the waves of frustration rolling off him and she turned the air conditioner up full blast.

  She’d planned to corner Jamie tomorrow, talk to him and find out what was going on. But then this thing had happened with Cam and this accident and all she wanted to do was crawl under her covers and stay there for days.

  But she couldn’t.

  Because no matter what, Jamie needed her. And no matter how much of a teenage dickhead he was being, she loved him.

  She turned around in her seat. “Your wrist hurt?”

  He stared at her like she was an idiot, and held up his injured hand. “It’s in a cast.”

  “I know that, I—”

  “And there are these pills you can take to help with pain—”

  “If you can’t carry on a civil conversation, Jamie, then don’t fucking talk at all,” Cam growled from the front seat.

  And that was the end of any sort of talking until they pulled into the driveway of their house.

  Tate was grateful that her father wasn’t home to see this. She didn’t want him to have to deal with Jamie’s mess.

  As soon as they walked into the house, Cam whirled on Jamie. He grabbed his chin and leaned in, checking his eyes. “Are you drunk?”

  Jamie jerked his head back to get out of Cam’s grip, but Cam held firm. “No,” Jamie said through clenched teeth.

  “High?”

  Jamie jerked back again and this time, Cam dropped his hand. “No,” Jamie spat at him. “Cops already checked that shit after the accident, but thanks for implying I’m a loser.”

  Cam held out his palms and responded with a voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, hey, I’m sorry. Must have been some other brother of Tate’s sitting drunk in a yard recently. My bad.”

  “Jamie—” Tate started, but when his brother’s head whipped to her, she snapped her jaw shut.

  “Thanks for picking me up, but if you think I’m going to stand here and get ganged up on by you two, then you’re wrong. Neither of you have your shit together any more than I do.”

  “Why don’t you can the angry teenager act? For fuck’s sake, Jamie,” Cam said.

  “What’s going on?” said a voice, and all three of them turned their heads to see Tate’s father standing at the entrance of the hallway.

  “Dad?” Tate took a step toward him. “What are you doing here? I thought you were spending the night?”

  He waved his hand. “Turns out they didn’t need to keep me. I called Anne and she came to get me.”

  “Why did you call Anne? I could have—”

  “Frankly I’m much more concerned about what I just overheard.” He took several steps forward, his eyes shifting from Tate to Jamie. “Because I heard something about drinking and an accident. And I’d really like to know why this is the first I’m hearing about any of it.”

  Tate’s heart plummeted into her stomach. “Maybe you should sit down, Dad. I can get your oxygen tank and—”

  “Tatum Frances Ellison.” Her dad’s voice had deepened into a low growl. “You and your brother take a seat on that couch over there, and I better start hearing some explanations.”

  Tate slumped her shoulders and trudged to the couch, footsteps behind her. She flopped down in a corner of the couch and watched as her brother sat in the opposite corner, face sullen.

  Cam stood off to the side, arms crossed over his chest, eyes on her. Her dad followed, perching himself on the edge of his recliner. “First, I want to know what Jamie’s been up to.”

  Tate started at her hands in her lap. Why did she feel guilty for what Jamie had done? “Last week, he was drinking at a party and got in trouble. The cops let him off with a warning and I had to
pick him up. And tonight, we got in a fight and then he drove and wrecked his car.”

  Silence. Tate looked up at her father through her lashes. His eyes were on Jamie, who stared straight ahead at the wall in front of him. “What’s going on with you, Jamie?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  He shrugged. “Just having a little fun.”

  “Wrecking your car is fun?”

  Jamie started to lose some of the surliness in his expression, as his anger began to fade and embarrassment crept in. “Well, that wasn’t so fun.”

  “What did you and your sister fight about?”

  Jamie clenched his jaw.

  Her father sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Tate could tell he was tired. It was late. “Dad, why don’t you—”

  “Why didn’t you tell me his behavior was this bad?” Those hazel eyes were locked on her now and she felt the heat of the stare.

  She flicked her eyes to Cam. His gaze was steady, but there was encouragement in his expression. She took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

  “You didn’t want to worry me.”

  “I was worried the stress would be bad for your health and—”

  “I love you, baby. But the fact that my son almost got arrested for underage drinking is something I need to be aware of. Even if I’m on my deathbed—”

  Tate sucked in a breath. “Please don’t say that—”

  “— he is still my son and what happens to him is my business.”

  “I know that but—”

  “Tatum.” His voice softened. “You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep making decisions for other people, thinking it’s the best for them. You just can’t.”

  Tate’s eyes blurred. She was making this a habit, wasn’t she? First keeping Cam in the dark, and now her father, because she thought it was best for them. “I thought I was doing the right thing.” She sniffed.

  “I know that,” he said quietly. “But you get what I’m saying to you?”

  Tate looked up and smiled at Cam through her tears. He returned her smile, and she turned her head to her father. “I get you.”

  Tate’s father’s gaze shifted to Cam. “I’m getting the sense you’re gonna be around more now?”

  Cam swallowed. “Your senses are accurate.”

  “Wait, what?” Jamie sat up, his head turning to Cam and then back to Tate.

  “You don’t worry about them right now.” Their father pointed at him. “You and I are going to talk here in a minute.” He held his arms out to Tate. “Give your old man a hug and then leave us be.”

  Tate jumped up and ran to her father, squeezing him until he grunted. “I love you, Daddy.”

  “Love you, too, baby,” he said, smoothing her hair. “Now git so I can talk to your brother.”

  Tate walked to Cam and grabbed his hand, eyeing Jamie over her shoulder. His eyes were on their clasped hands, his brows furrowed. She knew they still needed to talk, but right now, he was in for a father-son chat.

  She led Cam down the hallway and into her bedroom, shutting the door behind them. She flopped onto the bed on her back, her legs off the edge. “So, this was a day.”

  The bed dipped as Cam sank down beside her. “Sure was.”

  She closed her eyes until she felt a hand on her arm, and then Cam linked his fingers with hers. She rolled her head to the side and opened her eyes. He was watching their hands as he rotated them.

  “You think Jamie will be okay?” she asked.

  His eyes rose to hers. “Yeah, yeah I do.”

  “Why do you think so?”

  “Because he has a sister who watches out for him and a dad who loves him. And . . .” Cam licked his lips, and then brought their hands up. He kissed their thumbs. “And now I’m back.”

  “For how long?” she whispered.

  His brows lowered. “You see me going anywhere?”

  “No, but—”

  He leaned closer and pressed a kiss to her lips, swiping his tongue along the seam until she opened for him. And then any lingering questions she had vanished as his arms came around her, cradling her head, thumb rubbing that sensitive spot behind her ear. And when he pulled back, all she could do was return his smile. “We’ll figure it out,” he said softly. “For now, let’s get used to each other again. All right?”

  She bit her lip and nodded. “Okay.”

  And that earned her another kiss.

  Chapter 13

  CAM WATCHED TATE as she wiped down the counter of the diner. Her brows were furrowed, and every time the bell rang over the door, her eyes darted to see who it was.

  And every time it wasn’t Jamie, her posture relaxed slightly until the next time the bell rang. Cam had let Jamie borrow his mom’s car so he could keep working, even though it wasn’t easy for him to deliver pizzas with a cast. It’d been a couple of weeks since the accident.

  Cam took a gulp of his water and crushed an ice cube between his teeth. He’d thought meeting Jamie on neutral turf was a good idea, but now he wasn’t so sure. Hell, he was tempted to set parameters for which weapons to bring.

  The bell rang and from Cam’s booth in the corner, he heard Tate’s intake of breath. He took another sip of water and waited.

  Jamie’s heavy footsteps came up behind him, and then the old booth creaked and leather squeaked as Jamie slid in across from him.

  Cam pointed to a cup in front of Jamie. “Got you some water.”

  Jamie’s eyes flicked down to it, then back to Cam. He didn’t say anything.

  “You’re welcome,” Cam said.

  Jamie’s eyes narrowed.

  Cam sighed. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy. But Tate and her dad had asked him to talk to Jamie. At one time, they’d been close. Jamie had looked at him with hero worship in his eyes and although it had made Cam a little uncomfortable, he hadn’t wanted to disappoint the kid.

  But then shit hit the fan, and Cam had been too angry and selfish to check in with Jamie. He should have known that Tate and his breakup would be close to a divorce to Jamie. And with no mom and a sick dad, he must have been lost.

  The guilt pushed down on Cam’s shoulders, but he took a deep breath. He was back now. He could try to get the kid back on track.

  Cam clasped his hands on the table in front of him. “Okay, so I owe you an apology.”

  No movement from Jamie. In fact, it looked like he wasn’t breathing.

  Cam continued. “I should have checked in with you when Tate and I broke up. And that’s on me. I can bet you felt pretty abandoned. And with your dad getting sick and . . . well, I’m sorry.” He looked Jamie dead in the eye. “That’s on me. You didn’t do anything wrong. And I’ll always regret not being there for you.”

  Jamie didn’t move. But he held Cam’s gaze, so Cam figured that was a good thing. At least the kid hadn’t gotten up and walked away.

  “Why?” Jamie’s voice was almost a whisper when he finally spoke.

  “Why what?”

  “Why didn’t you keep in contact with me?”

  Cam shook his head. “I was so wrapped up in myself, man. I was so focused on being pissed at your sister. So I cut everything out of my life that reminded me of her. And that was wrong. So wrong. I didn’t think about how that would impact you. I was a selfish kid at the time. I see that now.”

  Jamie’s jaw worked, and his eyes shifted, like his brain had to shift a couple of gears. Then he finally dropped his eyes to the table in front of him.

  When Jamie spoke, he kept his eyes on the table. “You were just . . . gone. No word. Nothing. And Tate was always crying. And Dad was so sick. He just slept all the time.” Jamie raised his eyes. “I hated you. I kept thinking you’d be back and you’d take care of us. But you never came back. And then you finally show up now. And acted like you could boss me around and tell me what to do. And I hated you even more.”

  Cam felt flayed alive. Like his skin was peeling off his bones and every nerve was
raw, exposed. The fuck had he been doing in college? Fucking off, playing video games. Drinking and screwing girls. While Tate’s family was back here struggling. He couldn’t even blame Tate for this. He’d dropped the ball with Jamie. “I realize I can’t make up for when I was gone. I wish I could.”

  Jamie’s eyes flicked to Tate behind the diner counter. Cam followed his eyes as Tate stood there, face pale, wringing a towel in her hands.

  “It’s her fault,” Jamie said.

  “No it’s not.”

  “But—”

  “Jamie, she was eighteen. You don’t need details but it didn’t go down the way everyone thought it did. But she did make a bad decision. And we’re trying to get past it now.”

  There was still wariness in his eyes. Hesitation. Mistrust. Jamie fiddled with the wrapper to his straw, his eyes on his fingers. “How long you gonna be around this time?”

  That was a million-dollar question but Cam answered as honestly as he could. “Tate and I are doing everything we can to make it last this time. We’re in it for the long haul.” He reached over and stilled Jamie’s fingers, and the younger man’s eyes shot up to his. “But Jamie, no matter what, I promise you, I’ll keep in touch with you. Always. Our relationship is independent of my relationship with Tate.”

  Jamie stared, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

  “Do you believe me?” Cam asked quietly.

  Jamie bit his lip, then nodded jerkily.

  Cam let go of his fingers and leaned back in his seat. He let a grin stretch his lips, and when an answering grin passed over Jamie’s face, Cam let out a breath.

  He jerked his chin toward the counter. “You think you could spare some time and have a chat with your sister?”

  Jamie ducked his head and the blush staining his cheeks showed Cam he knew he had been an ass.

  “Sure, but uh, can we talk sometime about joining up?”

  Cam cocked his head with brows furrowed.

  Jamie fidgeted. “Was thinking about the military. To help for school. And to . . . get my head on straight, I guess.”

  Cam nodded. “Of course we can talk. I’ll tell you everything I know.”

  Jamie smiled. “Thanks.”

  Cam knew the next topic was going to be uncomfortable but he brought it up anyway. “Hey, we also need to talk about what you said to your sister.”