Inseverable: A Carolina Beach Novel

by Cecy Robson

  I start to laugh, but it doesn’t last, because the way Callahan is looking at me is very different from the way he was looking at me seconds before. This expression is the perfect blend of sweetness and ardor, just as it was when he sang to me.

  He doesn’t know that the song he chose is among my all-time favorites. Nor does he realize how his deep soothing voice and the gesture affected me. I want to tell him, but I’m not sure how to express something that touched me so deeply simply with words, especially now that the sadness he stows deep inside of him, finds its way to the surface.

  I take a risk, and ask him what I’ve wanted to know since I first saw him. “Are you okay?”

  When he doesn’t answer, I’m not sure he will. Yet when he does, I feel it like a pull, drawing me closer.

  “Not always,” he admits quietly.

  I purse my lips, struggling to stay strong for him. “Do you hurt?” I ask.

  His stare travels down as I inch to his side, close enough that the leaves from my flowers sweep against his chest. “Sometimes,” he answers.

  I tilt my chin and meet his face. “Are you lonely?”

  He lifts his head slowly, pitching me with such an intense stare, it holds me in place. “Not when I’m with you,” he whispers.

  He moves forward, sliding his right hand behind the curve of my neck to cup the base of my skull. His other hand winds carefully around my waist. As I try to remember how to move, he skims my jaw with his thumb and lowers his mouth to meet mine.

  At first his lips scarcely touch, trailing over me so softly I can barely sense the contact. The care he uses is sweet, subtle, but carries enough fire to warm all the right places and make me crave more. Yet what he’s doing feels so right, and so pure, I don’t force it, allowing him to lead us.

  My lips follow his, brushing lightly, teasing gently, fitting perfectly. It’s only when his tongue probes forward and the tip flickers over mine that everything changes.

  And dear God, there’s nothing pure or tender about what happens next.

  Callahan devours me, fueling a frenzy within me and inciting me to ravish him just as hard in return. I moan and whimper, my heart racing hard enough to fill my ears with its beat. This isn’t a kiss. Oh, hell no. This is our tongues having sex!

  He grunts, whirling me around and pressing my back against the truck door. My legs fasten around his waist as he hoists me onto his hips and deepens our kiss.

  “Trin?”

  Something hard presses against my belly.

  “Trin?”

  My lids flutter when he slips his tongue inside my ear.

  “Trin?”

  My hands yank up his shirt, traveling upward to smooth over his hard chest and graciously erect nipples. But when my teeth find his neck, and he swears, I just about rip his clothes off.

  “Trin? You out here?”

  Callahan breaks our contact and lowers me to my feet, stepping on my abandoned flowers as Sean appears with Mason.

  “Trin?” Sean calls out, yet again.

  I stomp forward and throw my hands out. “What? Tell me what is so important you have to interrupt quality face sucking time?”

  “Can we have the wine?” Sean asks, looking at Mason who’s doing his best not to crack up.

  “Sean!” I yell. “Did you even have to ask? Drink the whole thing for all I care.”

  “Thanks, Trin,” he answers all excited-like. “Later, Callahan.”

  “Night, Callahan,” Mason says, no longer able to hold back his laughter.

  I turn back to Callahan who, like me, is panting. But very unlike me he’s chuckling as he rubs his jaw.

  “Sorry,” I squeak.

  “It’s all right,” he tells me. But then he says the last thing I want to hear. “I should go.”

  We’re not going to have sex against your truck? It’s what I think—and after that kiss no one can blame me. But contrary to popular belief, I don’t always say what I think.

  “You don’t have to,” I stammer.

  “It’s late,” he says.

  “Oh.” Let me rephrase that, how about we have sex against your truck? “Okay.”

  He stares at me for a beat then bends to retrieve my flowers and passes them to me. The daisies are broken and the peonies have seen better days. And yet I’m so touched by the sweet gesture from a man who’s so hard and almost impossible to get to know, I find it hard to keep my voice steady. “Thank you, Callahan. They’re lovely.”

  His features soften apologetically. “They don’t look quite like they did in the store.”

  “I don’t care about that. It’s the nicest thing anyone’s done for me in a long time,” I tell him truthfully. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

  Again he watches me. I’m hoping he’ll change his mind and stay. But he doesn’t.

  “Goodnight, Trin,” he says quietly.

  I find a way to smile despite my disappointment. “Goodnight, Batman.”

  He laughs and hops into his truck. I edge away before I strap myself to the hood, seeing how I err on the side of classy. Mostly. Sometimes. Who am I kidding? Classy left the minute my tongue wanted to make babies with his.

  I clutch the bouquet as I make my way down the driveway. That kiss―that toe-curling, mind-blowing, nipple saluting kiss. If Callahan can fire my engine with his lips alone, what’s he going to do when we―

  He rolls down the window and calls to me. “Trin?”

  I whip back, albeit a little too excited. “Yes?”

  He hooks a thumb behind him. “Your house is that way.”

  Yes it is. “Oh, I was just going to check to see if we got mail.” Because it’s Sunday after all, and everyone knows mail always comes on Sunday.

  His smirk tells me he doesn’t believe me and why would he? Especially since I’m now laughing as my face burns. He chuckles and shakes his head, popping his truck in reverse.

  The electronic sensor picks up on the vehicle’s movement and triggers the gate to open. As he passes, he offers me a wink and a grin I feel straight down to my feet. I watch him, wishing he was taking me with him and knowing it won’t be long before he does.

  Chapter Eleven

  Trinity

  Insecurity is a big old bitch, who whores around and likes to have puppies. I used to be fairly confident and pretty well-adjusted thanks to my parents’ constant support.

  Everything changed when I found Hunter in bed with Blakeney. I started to doubt everything and everyone, convinced that Happily Ever After was simply a dream never meant to come true.

  Yet for all the hurt Hunter and Blakeney caused, I haven’t thought about them in a long time, especially since meeting Callahan. He’s the wakeup call I needed to prove life can and will go on for the better—the much better. That kiss alone me was something I’ve never quite experienced.

  Too bad it came to an abrupt end.

  Not only did he not show up to run with me the next day, he completely disappeared. When I didn’t see him on Monday, and he never popped in on Tuesday, I drove to his place after my shift. His truck was gone, and his place was locked tight.

  He didn’t own a cell phone. At least not one that I’d seen, and he hadn’t given me a number where I could reach him. To make things worse, Hunter texted today, pretending like nothing bad had ever come between us.

  Hey, Trin. It’s me, Hunter. I swung into town for the 4th. I’d like to see you and catch up. Been missing you.

  Yet I haven’t missed him. I didn’t bother to tell him, choosing instead not to respond. It bothers me that I never confronted him, or Blakeney. Not that they gave me a chance.

  “Whatcha thinking about, Trin?” Hale asks.

  “Not much, just tired,” I answer. I try to smile, but this is one of those grins I only barely manage.

  From the back, Becca, Mason, and everyone else who tagged along crack up over something Sean says that I miss.

  Hale, it seems misses it, too, the music pumping from his stereo and the wind whipping in
from the open windows making it too hard to hear what’s going on behind us. “You can’t be tired,” he tells me. “The night’s too young and so are we.”

  He’s right. But after a rough day at the beach involving a too drunk husband, and a very distraught wife, topped with Hunter’s text and Callahan’s absence, it’s all I can do not to beg him to drive me home. For the first time in a long while, Your Mother’s is the last place I want to be. But I can’t let my friends down. These weeks are flying by way too fast, no matter how much I need them to linger.

  “I know. But it’s been a long day, you know?” I say.

  “I hear you,” he says, making a face. “But some loud music and dancing may be exactly what we both need.” He pats my knee and backs his Tahoe into a spot in the far right corner of the lot.

  For all he’s trying to lift my spirits, it seems he needs his lifted as well. I didn’t miss how bummed he seemed when Becca opted to slip in the back with the rest of the crew instead of joining him in the front. But Hale, being Hale, still manages to flash me a smile.

  I slip my feet back into my flip flops as he sets his SUV in park. And while I showered and changed back at the beach, I’m not at my best given how weary I am. Everyone piles out, ready to cut loose. I’m not in as big of a rush.

  Hale notices, creeping up to me when I hop out of his SUV. “What’s bugging you, Trin?”

  “A lot of things. Like I mentioned, it was a long day.”

  “It was,” he agrees, watching everyone sweep through the front entrance before Hale and I can even make it halfway across the lot. “’Cept you handled it well like always.”

  “I hope,” I say. “Some things are real hard to see. Even if we helped that woman today, it’s not over for her unless she leaves that idiot. I offered her my number and told her to call me if she needs a friend.”

  Hale stops in front of me and shakes his head. “Trin, why’d you do that? You can’t help someone who clearly doesn’t want it. Did you see her arms? Some of those bruises were old, but even more were fresh. She’s not in the right frame of mind to accept help.”

  “Maybe not today. But it’s always nice to know at least one person cares about you.”

  His grin lights up the space between us despite the encroaching night, and almost as much as the short blond curls on top of his head. “Do me a favor, will you?”

  I tilt my head. “Sure. What?”

  “Don’t ever change, sweet thing.”

  He flings his arm around me long enough to kiss the top of my head. He’s trying to be kind, but the brotherly love he shows me pangs at my heart. “What am I going to do without you, Hale?” I ask.

  He shrugs, laughing. “Probably save the world like you’ve always planned.”

  I smile like he intends, thanking him when he opens the door for me. We’re greeted by Santana on the jukebox and the escalating voices of our friends. I’m not expecting Callahan to be here.

  Just like I’m not expecting to find him alone with Becca.

  I ground to a halt when I see her beaming up at him, and him leaning across the bar to speak to her softly. Both look in my direction when they realize I’m standing there, Becca’s smile fading as she takes in my face.

  No, that doesn’t trigger a bad memory or anything—or cause my heart to fall to the pit of my stomach. Nope. Not at all.

  I keep pace with Hale as he heads in, catching enough in his expression to know he’s not happy either.

  “Hey, Trin,” Callahan calls quietly.

  Maybe it’s the day, or the mere inches that separate him and Becca, or Hunter’s recent text―whatever it is keeps me walking to the rear deck without a word. And while Becca has saved me a spot next to her like she always does, I follow Hale and sit between him and Mason.

  I feel Hale’s attention on me, and while he seems bothered, mercifully he doesn’t say anything. I clasp my hand over my eyes, trying to shake every negative emotion digging its way through my skin. Not that it works. Right then and there, it’s all I can do not to run out of here.

  A few minutes later Becca—gorgeous, leggy, blonde Becca— returns with four pitchers gripped tight in her hands and plastic cups tucked beneath her arm. She sets everything out and makes a bee-line to me, crouching between me and Hale.

  “Now, how are we going to go beer for beer, if you’re not sitting beside me?” she asks.

  I try to smile and say something polite, because I don’t want to believe that she can hurt me like Blakeney did—and I don’t want to upset her because I’m upset or accuse her of something she hasn’t done. But I can’t even speak. I was blind once, and more than a little naive. Am I still that same foolish girl I’ve been too many times?

  Sadness creeps up on Becca’s stunning features when I don’t answer, dulling them in a way I can’t stand, but can’t help then. She strokes my hair away from my face. “Trin, you know I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

  My eyes prickle with impending tears. Blakeney had once said something similar. Sisters before misters, right? Yeah, not so much.

  “Who wants a shot? Trin’s buying,” Becca yells. She straightens to her full height, a right proud grin spreading along her face when everyone cheers. “Go on,” she says. “Don’t want to keep these fine people waiting.”

  When I don’t move right away, she bends and whispers, “Besides, Callahan misses you. He called me to the bar and asked me where you were the minute he saw me. No, hi. No, how you doing? Nope. Just ‘where’s, Trin?’ in that Green Bumble Bee voice of his.”

  I think she meant Batman, but thought Green Hornet, and became all sorts of confused. I laugh without meaning to and stand, pulling her into my arms.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  She hugs me tightly. “You know I love you. No matter what.”

  “Love you, too, Becks,” I tell her.

  She kisses my cheek and pats my ass as I walk off since that’s the kind of friend she is. A real one. I start to feel better, especially when Callahan glances up and the corners of his mouth curve in that “almost smile” of his.

  It’s probably why I don’t notice Hunter right away, or Blakeney, even though they stop directly in front of me.

  Their sudden presence strikes me across the face like a slap. They exchange glances, but it’s Hunter who’s the first to speak. “Hey, Trin,” he says. “We were hoping to find you here. Can I buy you a drink?”

  “Buy me a drink?” I repeat, unable to get past the fact that he’s actually standing in front of me after all this time.

  Never once did Hunter try to reach out to me—not to apologize, not to check in to see if I was okay, not even so much as to wish me well. Until he texted me today, it’s like I’d stopped existing to him—like I’d somehow wronged him and her—and I wasn’t worth wasting any more time on.

  We never broke up. We never had it out. We simply stopped being a part of each other’s lives. I was certain he’d call—after the two years I gave him, he owed me as much. And I certainly wasn’t calling him.

  But he never did, and neither did Blakeney. Not when I needed them to.

  Blakeney offers me an apologetic smile that may appear genuine to some, but certainly not to me. “We were hoping we could talk to you,” she says.

  She’s is in a short white skirt that shows off her legs and a coral tank that highlights her white blonde hair and dazzling teeth. Hunter is in his signature Polo shirt and cargo shorts. If I were to take an objective step back, I’d peg them among the most striking and elite of the privileged youths who frolic along the Carolina shores in the summer, and ski down the Swiss Alps in winter. But right then and there, I can’t be objective. Nor can I get past the shock and sting their presence evokes.

  And apparently, I’m not alone.

  Becca is suddenly there, and so is everyone else. “What in the hell?” she snaps.

  Both Hunter and Blakeney right their stances, but hold their ground. Hunter’s eyes cut to my boys. “Hey,” he tells them. />
  “Hey?” Hale answers back, laughing. “You talking to me?”

  “That’s right,” Hunter replies.

  “In that case, fuck you,” Hale says, no longer smiling.

  “You have a lot of nerve being here,” Mason says, the muscles along his hefty shoulders tensing.

  Sean steps forward, hovering over Hunter as he offers to kick his ass.

  Blakeney trains her tightening stare to my right where Becca is leaning close. It’s Becca’s way of letting me know she has my back, and that she’s seconds from clawing Blakeney’s eyes out.

  “We’re here to talk to Trin, alone,” Blakeney tells her.

  “Don’t you think you’ve done enough alone with this limp dick―Oh, wait, it’s not so limp is it? Giving how you straddled it more than once when your best friend wasn’t around.”

  Blakeney’s stare sharpens with rage, but when she returns her attention to me, her voice is soft. “Please, Trin. Just give us a moment. Please,” she says.

  I take a small breath, knowing this moment has been coming for far too long.

  “Okay,” I mutter at the same time Becca insists I don’t owe her a damn thing, and may or may not have called her a whore.

  I take Becca’s hand and squeeze it. “I’m all right,” I assure her, even though we both know it’s a lie. “I’ll just be a moment.”

  My friends don’t seem happy. Not that I blame them. We always swore we’d protect each other from harm, and we always have as much as we could. Just last summer, someone had to rip me off Becca’s boyfriend when I found out what he did to her. And if Hale, Mason, and Sean had found out what happened, I doubt that piece of trash would still be alive.

  For a long time no one moves, but then Hale clears his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “All right, Trin. If that’s what you want. Come on y’all. We’re here if she needs us.”

  As my friends edge back, warm fingertips trail down either side of my arms. I crane my neck, unsure who’s touching me.

  Callahan stands directly behind me. He was with me this whole time, and I didn’t even know it.