“How did you know kids were for you?” I ask.
She laughs. “When I became pregnant with Tanner”—she leans in close—“before I was married to Patrick.” She raises her eyelids to me, signaling she’s not an angel. “He rushed me to the hospital because I had a panic attack and could not breathe.”
She’s lost in her own thoughts for a moment and then begins again, “It’s so cliché, but when I saw the ultrasound and heard the heartbeat . . .”
“You felt it?”
“Nope. I knew I had to grow up and stop feeling sorry for my past. The day he was born, I was terrified because the instant bond didn’t happen.”
She laughs again, and I’m not finding this conversation very uplifting or funny.
“One day, Tanner got sick and had to be hospitalized. Patrick had gone home to grab us clothes. It was just Tanner and me. I saw his small little body in this metal crib, and something changed. I was so sick with worry about him. I finally realized I loved him, and whether something happened today or years down the line, that wasn’t going to change. I think I was so scared to love that I convinced myself I didn’t when, really, I was just in denial.”
We stop on the park bench in front of a small playground where I imagine Dylan and Tanner played when they were younger.
She lays her hand on my leg. “I can guess what that conversation was on the phone. I can even assume what happened to you, but only you know that. Even if you told me, it’s not my place to judge your decisions. All I’m going to say is, if you want to whole-heartedly give what you and Dylan have a chance, you need to be honest. Convey your fears and the heartbreak you’ve experienced. If there’s one thing I can say about McCain men, they aren’t startled, and they love nothing more than to fix people.”
“Are you suggesting Mr. McCain fixed you?” I cock my eyebrow.
“No,” she screeches, her head shaking vehemently. “He allowed me to be me, and in return, I found some new facts about myself.” She leans back on the bench, crossings her legs, with a content smile on her face. “It’s not easy, but the payoff is well worth it, sweetie.”
The smile on her face burns a desire within me to be her. Someone who had a hard past but overcame it and allowed herself to be loved easily and without the threat of hurting others.
“Thank you for sharing,” I meekly say.
She swivels in her seat, so she’s facing me. “I’m sorry for being not so pleasant most of today. That was wrong of me.”
“It’s nothing, really.” I wave off the uncomfortable atmosphere she initiated the majority of the day.
“It was, and I don’t do that to people in my home. I think I see a lot of myself in you, and that scared me for my son because I know what Patrick and I endured. But I was reminded that our roughly paved road wasn’t that bad.”
“It wasn’t?” The thought of this pull-and-push I do with Dylan going on for years feels exhausting already.
“No, it was ours. If it had been easy, maybe we wouldn’t have appreciated our life now.” She stands, putting her hands back in her pockets. “If everything were easy, Bea, could you imagine how boring your life would be?”
She has a point.
I rise up to my feet, and we start walking back to the house. We’re both silent for a while, and I can’t help but think about how similar I could be to someone else. I think I placed myself on an island of who got fucked with their childhood. With friends like Piper Ashby who has a perfect family, it isn’t hard to do. Here, I thought Lana and Patrick McCain were perfect.
We reach their driveway, and Lana laughs. “Look at that fool.”
She points to the window, but all I see are the drapes quickly drawing closed.
“He’s checking up on you.” She looks over, and we share a smile. “Another thing about McCain boys you might as well get used to, they’re very protective of what’s theirs. Do yourself a favor, and just go with it. Easier than fighting.”
“Yeah, I’ve already seen that.”
She stops us outside the door, taking both my hands in hers. “This has been said a lot, but I’m going to repeat it for you. Don’t let your past rule your future.”
She releases my hands, and I turn toward the door, but she pulls me into a hug.
“I’m sorry again,” she whispers.
She draws back, and the door swings open.
“Oh, jeez, you’re ridiculous,” she says to Dylan standing in the doorway as she slides by him.
“What? You take my girlfriend, and I wanted to make sure we weren’t going to be on the ten o’clock news.” He smiles over to me when he sees I’m in one piece and not running. “So?”
He holds his hand out for me, and I easily take it, stepping into the house.
“Good. It went good.”
He helps me shed my jacket, and once he returns from the hallway, I tightly wrap my arms around his neck. The smell of his cologne calms me for what I’m about to tell him.
“I need to tell you something.”
He pulls back, his hands still linked behind my back. Not one glimpse of uncertainty is in his eyes. “Okay.”
Dylan
I CONCEAL MY STARTLED NERVES as I walk Bea down to my parents’ basement. I’d have gone to my bedroom, but I’m thinking my mom would kibosh that. She appeared cool just a second ago when her and Bea returned from the walk, but taking a girl up to my room is different.
Bea sits down on the leather couch in front of the big screen television.
Distracting myself, I walk over to the small bar my dad built here a few years back. “Want a drink?”
She peers over at me, finding I’m not next to her. She looks lost, as though she forgot where she was. “Sure.”
A few minutes later, I place our Jack and Cokes in front of us. “What’s going on?”
I take her hands in mine. They’re cold, so I wrap them in my own, blowing and rubbing them together to warm her. She smiles, and I’d do almost anything to make her happy.
“There’s something I’ve been keeping from you, and if we’re going to move forward, you have to know everything about me.”
My heart clenches as my stomach rumbles with despair.
“Okay.” I smile, not truly meaning it, but I need to put her at ease.
“When I was seventeen, my mom married Lyle, and he had a son, Austin.” She stops, her shaking hand picking up the glass and bringing it to her lips. “Remember the guy at the restaurant in Chicago?”
“I remember.” The rumbling in my stomach turns warm, hot as fire, because if she tells me he did something to her and I was face-to-face with him and didn’t beat his ass, I’ll have a hard time swallowing.
“Well, he was nineteen when they married, and they owned a house in the Hamptons.”
Rich fuck who felt deserving to everything, including Bea, is my guess.
As though she can read my mind, she shakes her head and pins her eyes on me. “He took my virginity.”
My fists clench at my sides.
“With my permission, but a month later, he kicked me out of the house. Specifically, he put my suitcases on the porch and changed the locks.”
She releases a long breath, and as much as I want to pace this room, rambling question after question, like a damn detective, I pull her to me, holding her tight in my arms. Her shoulders deflate, and for the first time, she doesn’t fight to move away. She sits there with her head faced into my neck, her one arm wrapped around me, and her other hand placed on my stomach.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I say. “What an asshole.”
She nods and draws back but swings her legs over mine.
“He flirted with me, and I took the bait because I liked him. He made me feel protected, and no one had ever brought that feeling over me before. After I slept with him, he changed. I should have known when he told me I had to go back to my room that night. I should have seen the signs of my lovesick blindness within myself.”
I’m trying to act like I have it all to
gether, but my breathing keeps increasing and my heart is beating just as fast.
“After I arrived, he’d take me out with his friends on the boat, jet-skiing, to eat. We’d make meals together and lounge around the pool. Then, after I slept with him he did everything without me, never including me with his friends. I could have handled the fact that I gave my virginity to someone who didn’t care, but what happened the night before left a stamp on me that I’ve never washed off.”
“Bea, you don’t have to tell me. I don’t care about any of it.”
“I need you to know because Austin’s been trying to apologize. Make amends as part of an AA or NA program.”
“Okay,” I sit back and try to lock up my reactions.
Bea
I release a deep breath before starting the story where he’s soon to judge me. Swallowing down the rise of bile up my throat, I begin.
I was sitting in my room, reading some book, while a rip-roaring party was happening downstairs. A knock banged on my door, and I ignored it at first because I figured it was some couple who wanted to find a private room to fuck. Then, the knock happened again, a little gentler this time, followed by a voice.
“Bea?” the male voice inquired.
I recognized it as Austin’s best friend, Thad, who had practically moved in, only leaving when his parents would ask him to go to the city or London for a family obligation.
Another sign I was out of my element—these kids went to college during the year, and summers were playtime with no jobs or responsibilities to anyone.
I placed my book down on the bed and went to the door, opening it for him.
“Finally.” He stumbled in, collapsing on my bed. “Why are you holed up in here?”
“I’m reading.” I shut the door because I could barely hear him from the music rising from downstairs. Picking up my book, I went over to my chair and sat down.
“Why are you so far away?” He held his hand out to me, like he expected me to come.
“Why so many whys?”
He laughed, rolling over to his side, and stared over to me. “You really are smoking. Not sure why Austin threw you away.”
His compliment warmed me. I was naïve, but I thought he was right. Austin was a jerk, and he didn’t know how good I would be for him.
I said nothing but put my legs on the edge of the chair, so my legs blocked Thad’s visual of me braless in a white T-shirt.
He sat up on the bed and held out his arms. “Come on. He robbed your cherry from you, but I bet you didn’t even enjoy it. Don’t you want to be experienced when you go to college next year?”
His words rang in my head. I had been waiting to get out from my mother and live a life where no one knew me. I wanted to be different and change myself, so I put my book down and walked over.
Instantly, his hands splayed on my ass, dipping under the hem of my shorts. He feathered kisses along my stomach, and it felt good. He wanted me, and I craved the feeling of other’s approval.
One thing led to another, and soon, he was on top of me, and we were naked, him taking his time. But, at the last minute, Austin’s face flicked to my mind.
“I can’t do this,” I said.
Thad’s fingers dug deeper inside me, and his mouth clamped on my tit more. I guessed he was hoping that would change my mind.
I pushed at his shoulders. “I can’t,” I repeated. But he had a hundred pounds on me. “Stop.”
I wiggled under him, but he pinned me with both my arms next to my head.
Seeing how affected Dylan looks. His face red, nostrils flaring, white knuckles, I stop.
“Well, I’ll spare you the details, but he didn’t stop. After he had me, he stood up and got dressed.”
“And?” Dylan chokes out.
“Thanks for the great time. Austin remarked about your killer body.”
I sat up in my bed, pulling the sheets over my body, only wanting him to leave. When I watched his back walk toward the door, my throat dried. There, in the doorway, was Austin.
For a moment, I thought he’d hit Thad, and there’d be a brawl in the middle of my room. Or maybe he would at least come over and ask me how I was and why there were tears streaming down my face. There was no way he could have stood there and watched his friend rape me.
As Thad met him at the door, Austin lifted his hand in the air, and Thad slapped it.
“Haven’t had a tight fit like that since I was fourteen,” Thad said to him.
They shared a smile.
Thad left and Austin stepped into the room. I naively thought he was going to comfort me, but a flash of anger rung in his eyes.
“How dare you embarrass me? I want you out tomorrow, leave the keys on the table. Don’t breathe a word of this to you mom. Not that she cares about you in any sort of way. You’re nothing but a damn slut.”
“Austin, I didn’t . . . he pushed himself on me.”
I don’t even know why I was arguing. Austin didn’t want me again until he saw Thad.
“You’ve been labeled, Bea.”
He walked out, shutting the door behind him.
I ran over, locking it and then sliding my dresser to block the entrance.
The next morning, spray painted on my door was slut and whore. I packed my bags, left the key on the table as requested and showed up on my dad’s doorstep.
Dylan pulls my crying body to him again, his chest stiff and arms rigid. “Can you give me one moment?” He breaks away from me and stalks over toward the pool table.
Releasing deep breaths and pacing back and forth, he’s fuming. “That asshole was right in front of me, and I didn’t know what he’d done. The image of pounding my fist over and over into his pretty boy face still doesn’t take away the anger.” He rants and my heart breaks.
“Dylan, there’s nothing you could do.” I stand to meet him.
He picks up a pool ball and throws it right into the wall. I gasp, and run over to him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “I’m so sorry. I was young and stupid. Please forgive me.”
He places his hands on my cheeks. I hear the footsteps from upstairs, and his parents or brother will be down here any second, asking questions.
“Never apologize. You did nothing wrong. I’m mad because it happened to you. I’m not mad at you,” he buries my head into his chest, kissing the top of my head numerous times. “Never you,” he whispers.
Silent weeps escape my throat.
Dylan
I THOUGHT DETROIT WINTERS WERE bad, but it’s the second week of December, and, man, is Chicago windy as fuck. I swear, I almost blew over the bridge the other day.
Bea has finally stuck both her feet into this relationship. We moved into a nice two-bedroom apartment right in the heart of downtown. Although I’m currently on the floor in our family room since Bea has yet to find “the” couch, but I can’t complain.
“Shit, baby.” My hand clamps on to her head, my fingers threading through her hair.
She licks up the length of my shaft, her tongue swirls around my head like a damn ice cream cone, and then her entire mouth engulfs the top of my dick. My legs straighten, my hands tightening. She takes all of me, and the tip of my dick is in the back of her throat. Her fingers start massaging my balls, and I swear, I’ve never been blown like this. She’s like the first pick on draft day.
Placing her other hand at the base of my cock, she starts sucking up and down, and I thrust my hips into her. When I take her head in my hands, my ass lifts off our hard floor, pushing myself into her mouth.
Her moans mix in with the slurping sounds ricocheting off our bare walls, and it only brings me to the end faster. She cups my balls in her hands, and I’m done, my hips moving up one last time until I still inside her mouth.
She stays in place, waiting until I’ve finished, before swallowing. As she comes up, her hand wipes her mouth, and she smiles.
“That was a nice surprise,” I say, glancing at the messenger bag lying on the floor.
&nb
sp; “I aim to please my man,” she says, rising to her feet. “Plus, I owed you for last night.” A sly smile plays at her lips.
One plus to living together is that you’re accessible all the time. I don’t think either of us has complaints.
I stand, zip up my pants, and grab my computer bag off the floor. Finding her in the kitchen, making us dinner, I can’t help but allow this spur of contentment take residence inside me. She’s thrown herself into this life with us, and I know I love her, but I haven’t been able to convey it yet in fear that she’ll bolt.
I lean over her shoulder as she stirs a sauce.
“We’re going over to my dad’s tonight. I told him we’d make dinner.”
Again? is the first thought that triggers in my mind.
But he’s in hospice right now, so I can’t argue. It’s a bonus since we’ve moved to Chicago. Bea’s made the most of reconnecting with her dad over the last few weeks. From what I gathered the other day, there might not be too much time left, but Bea never mentions the inevitable day, so I don’t either.
“Sounds good. I’m going to change.” I go into my bedroom.
Even though we live together and most of our nights are spent in my bed, she wanted her own space, so she has a bedroom, too.
I take off my jacket and loosen my tie, thinking about the meeting I had today with the top bank in Chicago. It’s amazing what a huge company like Nike can do for a firm. We’ve had people call us for ad requests. That’s unheard of, but upper management has taken notice, and most of the larger accounts are being tossed in my lap.
Bea hasn’t said much about it, and I’m stepping on glass each time one of their file folders is handed over to me. She’s been distracted with her dad as of late though. If she only knew how badly I needed that blow job this afternoon. Mr. Knight, Deacon’s president, called on my way home. He wants me to come in and talk to him tomorrow.
Under normal circumstances, I’d be popping a bottle of champagne, but Bea is not going to handle me getting a promotion over her well.
“Hey, why are you sitting there?”
Love Emerged (Love Surfaced #3) Page 21
