Be with Me: A Novel (Wait for You)

by J. Lynn

  I glanced down at the tentlike quilt. “Thanks.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.” He patted in the general vicinity of my good knee. “I’m just worried about you. You’ve been through a lot.”

  “I’m okay, but you’ve got to promise you won’t say anything to him. Just leave it alone. Please, Cam.”

  He sighed. “Okay. I won’t say anything. You were right earlier when you said it’s not any of my business, but seeing how upset you are and not slamming my—”

  “I get it,” I said, smiling slightly. “You can’t always take care of things for me, you know?”

  Cam laughed. “Says who?”

  Shaking my head, I settled back. Having a little more background on what made Jase tick helped, but it didn’t make the heartache any better. Kind of made it all the more sad.

  At the sound of a knock on the door, Cam rose. “That’s probably going to be Avery. You up for some girl time?”

  “Girl time?”

  He made a face. “Whatever. You want her in?”

  “Sure.” Hanging out with someone was better than sitting here alone feeling sorry for myself.

  If Avery knew what was going on, she wisely chatted about everything and anything else while she coaxed me off the couch and helped me straighten the apartment. The place was a mess. Partly not my fault. Cam had vacuumed and dusted around the time the president was last inaugurated.

  “I’ve heard that Debbie’s funeral is next Tuesday,” she said, tying her coppery hair up in a messy ponytail. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded as I tossed the rag I’d used to dust off the nightstand into the little waste bin. “Calla’s dropping me off, and she’s gonna pick me up when it’s done. She doesn’t do funerals.”

  “Neither do I.” She bent over, picking up a bag resting on the closet floor. “I don’t think Cam’s going, but if you want him there, I’m sure he’ll go.”

  I knew he would, but I wasn’t going to force him to go to a funeral he wasn’t planning on attending.

  Avery suddenly stood ramrod straight as she opened up the department store bag. Over her shoulder I saw it was full of shoes I hadn’t gotten around to unloading yet, which reminded me there was still a lot of stuff I needed to get out of the dorm.

  Curious about what she was staring at, I hobbled around her. “What’s up?”

  Wordlessly, she reached inside and pulled out my old pair of ballet shoes. “I haven’t held a pair of these in forever.”

  Seeing them sent a pang through me. I turned and sat on the bed. “Well, we’re about the same shoe size. Probably have roughly the same fit. You can have them if you want.”

  “Don’t you want to keep them?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. You can borrow them. How about that?”

  She glanced down at the satiny slippers and sighed a little. A wistful look crossed her face and my curiosity grew. “What don’t you dance anymore, Avery?”

  Her gaze lifted and her cheeks reddened. “It’s just a long story that’s not really important right now. It doesn’t matter. I probably couldn’t even lift my leg now, let alone do a simple ballet move.”

  “I bet you could,” I said instead of pushing her for more details.

  She laughed it off, but her eyes lit up with something akin to excitement, like maybe she wanted to try. “I’d probably pull a muscle.”

  “No you won’t.” My knee started to stiffen so I gingerly stretched it out. “Try it.”

  The slippers dangled from her fingertips. “I’ll look like an idiot.”

  “It’s only me here and I haven’t even showered today. Also, I can’t walk without a limp, so I’m pretty sure you don’t have to worry about impressing me.”

  She hesitated and then crossed the room, placing the slippers on the bed beside me. “If you laugh, I might cry.”

  “I won’t laugh!” But I did smile. “Come on. Just do it.”

  Stepping back, Avery looked around the room, checking out the space as she toed off her shoes. She took a deep breath as she kicked a leg up. Closing her eyes, she planted her sock-clad foot on the inside of her thigh and twirled once and then twice, extending her leg out elegantly. Even on carpet, in jeans and out of commission for years, the girl had a natural-born talent that every studio-taught dancer envied.

  When she completed the turn, I clapped loudly. “That was perfect!”

  Her face was flushed as she straightened out her shirt. “It wasn’t. My leg—”

  “Oh my God, you haven’t danced in years and you did the turn better than most of the people who haven’t stopped.” I picked up the ballet shoes. “You have to get on a stage. Even if it’s just with me at the Learning Arts Center. Just once.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “You have to!” I wiggled the shoes, and her gaze followed them like I was dangling something shiny in her face. I don’t know how I knew this, but I did know that getting her to dance again was important. “You need to. So I can live vicariously through you. Just once before spring semester. Please.”

  Avery took a deep breath as she eyed me. “What’s in it for me?”

  “What do you want?”

  Her lips pursed. “I want two things. First being you help me find a gift for Cam for Christmas, because I suck at that kind of stuff.”

  I chuckled. “All right, that’s totally doable. What’s the second thing?”

  “You have to babysit Michelangelo and Raphael this weekend.”

  “The turtles?”

  She grinned as she nodded. “We’re getting this one large habitat, so, you know, they can . . . I don’t know, head bob at each other and Cam wanted to go to this movie, but I’m afraid they’re going to kill each other.”

  “So you want me to be like a turtle bouncer? Break them up if one of them gets out of hand?”

  Avery giggled. “Exactly.”

  I laughed. “Okay. Deal.” I wiggled the shoes at her.

  She snatched them up. “Oh, and I’m pretty sure Michelangelo is a girl, so try to stop them if they happen to look like they’re getting it on. Cam and I aren’t ready to be parents to a bunch of baby turtles.”

  Groaning, I flopped on my back. “Oh God . . .”

  Twenty-six

  The sun was out, shining brightly, but it didn’t chase away the chill in the air the morning of Debbie’s funeral.

  As Calla had promised, she’d dropped me at the start of the service, and once the graveside part was done, I’d text her. She’d taken me to class last week, but Cam started taking me to class this week and hadn’t taken no for an answer.

  I really needed to get a car.

  It helped as I stood back from the gravesite to focus on stupid, mundane things. I’d never been good at funerals. When my grandpappy passed away, I’d been too wigged out to get near the coffin. Not much had changed. The coffin hadn’t been opened, but I’d sat at the back of the packed church at the cemetery grounds.

  My knee ached from the walk to the gravesite, but whatever pain was worth it. I felt like I needed to be here for Debbie, and if I hadn’t been, I would’ve regretted it.

  Her parents looked like they were in a daze, huddled together along with a younger boy who looked like he’d just entered high school. I couldn’t imagine what they were going through or what they could be thinking.

  Off to their right was Erik Dobbs, and he was surrounded by what appeared to be every member of his fraternity. I didn’t know if Jase was among them; the crowd of guys dressed in wrinkled suits was too thick.

  It wasn’t hard to tell apart the students from the family members. We were the ones dressed in something—anything—black. I’d pulled on leggings this morning and a dark blue sweater dress. It didn’t seem like the best thing to wear to a funeral, but it was all I had handy.

  As the graveside service drew to a close, I was surprised to find my lashes damp. I’d been doing so well, keeping my face relatively dry through the whole service, even when they played that one count
ry song that was always played during sad moments. I hastily wiped at my cheeks with chilled hands as I turned.

  A hand clamped down on my shoulder, spinning me around. I almost put my weight on my bad leg, but corrected myself at the last minute. Heart pounding in surprise, I lifted my gaze.

  Erik stood there, his dark eyes fastened on mine. “What are you doing here?”

  I shook his grip off my shoulder or at least tried to. His hand tightened for a second and then he let go, but he didn’t back up. “Don’t touch me ever again,” I said, voice low.

  Something dark and ugly flashed across his face. “You shouldn’t be here. She’s dead and in that coffin because of you.”

  Gaping, I jerked back from him. “Excuse me?”

  “She’s dead because you filled her head with bullshit.” His voice rose, drawing the attention of those standing nearby. “If you had just minded your own business instead of trying to stir up drama, she’d be alive right now.”

  Blood drained from my face as I stared into his. Was he crazy? My stomach rolled as I noticed that more people were staring—fellow students. “I wasn’t stirring up drama and you know that.”

  Erik shook his head. “It’s your fault.”

  “Hey man,” one of his friends said, stepping forward. “I think we need to get you home.”

  “I think she needs to leave,” he sneered. “She of all people shouldn’t—”

  Erik was spun away from me in the same manner he’d turned me around. I had no idea where Jase came from, but he was suddenly standing there, his hand clamped down on Erik’s shoulders, his face inches from his.

  “I know you got a lot on your mind,” Jase said, voice low and dangerously calm. “But I suggest you walk away from her right now before you say anything you’re going to regret.”

  He opened his mouth, but Jase shook his head. “Walk away, brother.”

  For a second I didn’t think Erik was going to, but he nodded curtly. Shaking off Jase’s hand, he spun away without looking back at me, pushing through the crowd of his frat brothers. None of them went after him that I could see. If anything, they looked disgusted with his behavior.

  Jase cupped my elbow as he lowered his head toward mine. “Where are your crutches?” he demanded.

  I shot him a pissy look, which he ignored. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I tossed them in the garbage.”

  He stared at me. “You threw them in the garbage?”

  “Yeah, I did.” A little slow on the uptake, anger from what Erik had said to me flooded my system. Unfortunately for Jase, he was the one there. “And I don’t need you getting involved there. I had it under control.”

  “Totally looked that way.” He started walking, and with his hand firmly around my arm, it left me little choice but to walk with him. “I’m taking you home.”

  “Calla is going to take me home.”

  “Text her and tell her you have a ride.” When I didn’t respond, he shot me a look. His eyes were a deep, thunderous shade of gray. “Please don’t argue with me, Tess. I just want to get you home. Okay? I just want to make sure you’re not standing around alone waiting for Calla to come get you.”

  Part of me wanted to dig my heels in, but I was being stupid. The last thing I wanted to do was stand out in the cold waiting for her while Erik was slinking around, ready to point a finger at me for something I had absolutely nothing to do with.

  “Okay,” I said finally, pulling out my cell. “You don’t need to hold my arm, though.”

  His eyes flared in color. “What if I want to?”

  I stopped, forcing him to come to a standstill. Our gazes locked. “You don’t have the right to touch me, Jase.”

  He dropped his hand immediately. “Sorry.”

  As we started to his Jeep, I sent Calla a quick text letting her know I had a ride. When we got inside his car, he asked again about the crutches.

  “What?” I yanked the seat belt with all my power and clicked myself in. “I don’t need them forever.”

  “The doctor said—”

  “I needed them for a few days or a week, depending on if I was relying on them.” I hated remembering that he’d been there that day—had been there for me only to crush my heart a few days later, no matter how tragic the why behind his reasoning was. “I don’t need them.”

  “You limped the whole way to the gravesite and to the car.”

  “You were watching me?”

  “Yeah, I was.” His gaze flicked over my face and then settled straight ahead. “I kept an eye on you almost the whole time. You didn’t seem to notice.”

  I didn’t know what to think about that. “I didn’t see you.”

  “I was standing in the back, by the door. I bowed out before people started walking out,” he explained. “Anyway, did Erik hurt you? He turned you around pretty quickly.”

  I shook my head and then realized he wasn’t looking at me. “No.”

  “I would’ve gotten there quicker, so I’m sorry about that.” He finally turned the engine on and cool air blasted out of the vent. Neither of us spoke until we were on Route 45 heading back to Shepherdstown. “He needs to stay away from you. I’m going to make sure he does—hey, I’m not going to beat on him or anything crazy, okay? He just needs to not pull any shit like that again.” He cut me a sharp look. “That was the first time he said anything to you?”

  “Why?” I asked. “Why do you even care, Jase, what he says to me?”

  Another razor-edged look was cast in my direction. “That’s a stupid question.”

  “No, it’s not. We aren’t friends. We were two people who were a little more than friends for a very short period of time and we had sex.” My heart turned over from my own words. “That’s all we were.”

  Jase clenched the steering wheel. “Is that what you think of us?”

  “Isn’t that what you want?”

  He didn’t answer immediately, and when he did, it was so low I wasn’t sure I heard him right. “No.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath. “No?”

  “That’s not what I wanted from us. God, Tess, not at all.” He propped his left arm on the driver’s window and pressed his cheek into his fist. “But I’m just . . . I told you before you didn’t want to get with me.”

  A burn encompassed my chest and throat as I stared at his profile. “I know,” I whispered, and I hoped he didn’t get too upset with Cam. “I know about Kari.”

  His jaw clamped down so fast and hard I wouldn’t have been surprised if he cracked his molars. A mile passed before he spoke. “I don’t even have to ask how you know.”

  “Please don’t be mad at him. He thought I already knew, because I knew about Jack. You can’t get mad at him.”

  “I’m not.” He sighed heavily. “So you know the whole sordid tale then.”

  “I . . . I didn’t think it was sordid.” I bit my lip. I knew what Jase had said about not wanting Jack at first and now his guilt made even more sense, because what if Kari had wanted Jack down the road? “It was just sad.”

  “Oh, I must not have told him everything.” He coughed out a laugh. “When Kari got pregnant, I wasn’t there for her when she told her parents. I should’ve been. I knew they would be hard on her and when they said they were going to send her to her grandparents down in southern West Virginia, I was kind of relieved, because it was like if she wasn’t there, I didn’t have to think about the fact that she was pregnant.”

  He laughed again, but it was such a sad sound. “I was never there for her. You know, I was just a kid, but still . . .”

  “But you were—what? Sixteen?”

  He nodded. “When my parents stepped in and adopted Jack, and Kari came back, she talked about a future with all three of us. Scared the shit out of me. We got into an argument. She drove off and she died. End of story right there.”

  Oh my God . . .

  “You don’t blame yourself. Please tell me you don’t.”

  “I did for a long time, but
I know I didn’t cause the accident. We’d sort of made out before she left, but you know, the last conversation you have with someone, you don’t want it filled with shit like that.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I know that’s not a lot, but I’m sorry.”

  Jase didn’t say anything again until we reached the apartment buildings. “I haven’t even visited her grave.”

  I pulled myself out of my own thoughts. “Not once?”

  He shook his head. “I just . . . I don’t know. I’ve moved on, but . . .”

  “You haven’t moved on, Jase. If you haven’t been able to visit her grave, you haven’t moved on.”

  We pulled into a parking spot in the middle of the lot. He turned off the engine and looked at me. His gaze dropped to my lips, and he seemed unable to drag his attention from them. The hand on the steering wheel tightened.

  “Do you still love her?” I whispered.

  Jase didn’t answer for a long moment. “I will always love Kari. She was a great person. I don’t know where we’d be right now if she had lived, but I will always care for her.” His chest rose slowly. He looked like he was about to say more, but changed his mind.

  I recalled what Cam had said about him being scared. Maybe that really was it. Maybe he did love me, but it wouldn’t be enough. Some wounds, festered by silence, ran too deep. And there would be nothing I could do to change him and how he saw relationships. He had to find that in himself and he had to want to. And I hoped he did. Not just for my sake, but because, even though the wound he’d left on my heart was fresh and bleeding, he was a good man.

  He just needed to sort himself out.

  As I watched him work through what to say, I did what was probably the most mature thing I’d ever done in my almost nineteen years. Like earn-a-medal-or-a-box-of-cookies type of mature, because I was still hurting so badly when it came to him.

  I leaned across the seat and pressed my lips against his cool cheek. Jase sucked in a sharp breath and turned a wild gaze on me as I pulled back. “I’m sorry for everything you’ve had to go through and I . . . I still love you, so I hope one day you’re able to move on, because you deserve that, Jase Winstead.”