As much as I’ve tried to hold myself back and take things slow, the truth is that I’ve fallen hard and fast. I’m in deeper than I ever thought possible. And it scares the shit out of me.
I glance up from the bathing suit I’m shoving in the bag. Brayden mentioned there was a hot tub, and I want to be prepared for whatever this weekend has in store.
“Me, too,” I admit softly.
This is the first time I’ve acknowledged my feelings out loud. And doing so makes them all the more real.
“Who would have ever thought that Brayden Kendricks would turn out to be your boo-thing?”
I snort.
No one. That’s who.
Do we really need more proof that miracles can happen?
Chapter Thirty
Brayden
I turn the truck onto a narrow, country road that’s flanked on both sides by tall trees spearing up into the bright blue sky. The closer we get to the cabin, the more nausea churns at the bottom of my gut. Why the hell did I think bringing Sydney here was a good idea?
At the moment, it seems like a pretty shit one. This place holds way too many memories. And the closer I get to the property, the more the nerves sitting at the bottom of my gut feel like they’ll revolt. The hardest part is that all of my recollections are happy ones. I don’t have a single bad one of this place. Except they all revolve around my father. Thinking about him always feels like ripping open an old wound.
Other than the football field, this was Dad’s happy place. After he and Mom got married, they purchased a couple hundred acres of wooded property with a spring fed, five-acre lake in the middle. After each NFL season ended, we would spend time here, tromping around in the forest, riding ATV’s, hiking, fishing, and camping. It was the only time that we had Dad all to ourselves. Here, he wasn’t a famous NFL player. He was simply a loving father and husband.
Summers were always the best. Even though the cabin is massive, Dad and I would pitch a tent in the yard near the lake and sleep outside under the stars. A small campfire would burn all night. In the morning, we’d wake up bright and early. He would cook eggs and bacon over an open fire and then we would fish for the day.
Those are some of the best memories I have of my childhood. It’s painful to acknowledge that we will never make more.
Dad is gone.
This is the one place on the face of the Earth where there’s no avoiding the past. My father was this place. He and the land are deeply entwined. You can’t have one without the other. Every year I fail to return makes it more difficult to consider the possibility of coming back in the future. The cabin used to fill me with so much happiness. I can’t imagine that ever being the case again.
I wouldn’t be making this trip without Sydney by my side. If there’s anyone capable of soothing the anguish that lurks deep within me, it’s this girl. She understands what loss feels like on this kind of gut-wrenching level because she’s experienced it, too. She’s quickly becoming my everything. These feelings snuck up on me when I was least expecting them.
Know what the real kicker is?
That I have Kira to thank for it.
Yeah...Kira.
It’s doubtful the two of us would have gotten together if not for her. For obvious reasons, I won’t be sharing that information with the tawny-haired girl anytime soon. Even though she seems to be going strong with her new boyfriend, I think that news would go down like a lead balloon.
I’m jostled from those thoughts when Sydney reaches over and wraps her fingers around mine. “Are you doing all right?” The question is hesitantly asked.
She’s worried.
One flick of my gaze in her direction confirms the concern brimming in her vivid, green eyes. I probably should have kept my reservations about returning to myself. But that’s the thing, I don’t want to hold back the truth from Sydney. After all the lies that were told in the beginning of our relationship, I can’t tolerate anything less than raw honesty between us. And being candid with her feels a little bit like vanquishing the ghosts of my past. Afterward, they don’t seem quite so formidable.
“I’m fine. Maybe a little nervous,” I admit, twisting my fingers so that I can encompass hers. The last thing I want to do is freak her out.
With a nod, she nibbles at her lower lip. “We don’t have to do this, Bray. We could easily rent a hotel room for the night and stay there. Maybe explore the area tomorrow before heading back to school.”
Yup. We could. But I don’t want to do that. It’s been years since I stepped foot on this property, and with Sydney by my side, I feel strong enough to finally come face to face with the past. I don’t question that she’s become so important to me in such a short span of time. When something feels right, there’s no need to overthink it.
And Sydney feels right. Our relationship feels right. It’s as if something fundamental has finally clicked into place that I never realized was missing. It’s not something that can be explained away with logic.
It just is.
“I promise I’m good.”
I turn the truck onto a narrower road. The woods grow thick and dense, hugging the sides of the lane until it feels like the branches could scrape against the door panels. If it were summer, the leaves would form a canopy and block out the bright shafts of sunlight that pour down.
A frown settles on her face as Sydney straightens and stares out the passenger side window. “Are you sure we’re going the right way?” A nervous edge has crept into her tone. It takes a lot to rattle Sydney. The girl has nerves of steel.
My lips lift into a smile as I shoot her a quick glance. This isn’t a place where I want to take my eyes off the road for long. I’m liable to wrap the front end of the truck around a tree. “Yup.” It’s a little more overgrown than I remember, but it’s still the same.
“I’m going to keep it real with you. It feels like this road is going to dead end and we’ll be stuck out here in the woods.” There’s a pause before she adds, “And then we’ll get murdered by a roving band of psycho killers.”
I snort out a laugh. “It’s highly doubtful that psycho killers even know this place exists. Plus, you’re much more likely to get mauled by a bear than a crazy with a chainsaw.”
Color drains from her face as her eyes widen. “You better be joking.”
“Of course I am.”
Sort of.
Every rut we hit in the road makes Sydney yelp and grab the oh shit bar. Three minutes later, the lane finally opens up to a wider driveway. Both the log cabin and lake come into view.
Sydney leans forward in her seat as her eyes widen for the second time in a matter of minutes. “Wow,” she breathes.
Yeah.
The view is spectacular. No matter how many times I’ve been here, it always hits me the same way as we come over the hill and the road opens up, surveying the land and water. The truck rolls toward the embankment that overlooks the lake before I shift the gear into park and cut the engine.
For a long, silent moment, we sit and take in the landscape beyond the windshield. The water is surrounded by dense forest with cattails on the sides. Both deciduous and pine trees make up the jagged landscape. Even though all the leaves have fallen, carpeting the earth in reds, browns, and golden hues, it’s still a majestic sight. The land looks pristine and untouched by the hand of man. There are a few puffy, white clouds marring the cornflower blue sky. Their reflection is echoed in the glassy surface of the water.
“This is really beautiful, Brayden.” Her gaze stays fastened on the view.
“Yeah, it is.” And I’ve missed it. My dad loved this land, and just being here, seeing it again, smelling the crisp fall air, makes me feel like he’s here with me. Maybe I can’t see or speak with him, but his presence is all around me and somehow, that eases the ache in my heart. It only reconfirms that bringing Sydney here was the right decision to make.
My fingers settle over hers. “Are you ready to see the cabin?”
Her attentio
n flickers to mine as she nods. We exit the truck and grab our bags from the backseat before heading toward the house. Our shoes crunch the gravel that lines the drive beneath them.
“You know, when you told me we would be staying in a cabin, I’d prepared myself for something...smaller. Maybe even a little dilapidated.”
My lips quirk as a chuckle bursts free. My family has always referred to this place as a cabin because that’s exactly what it is. A log cabin made from the poplar trees harvested from this very property. The structure itself is three thousand square feet and two stories high. There’s a wide front porch that wraps around the entire first floor. A white swing has been hung near the front door and other seating arrangements are spaced out to enjoy the differing views. In the mornings, I’d always find my parents lounging on the couch with steaming mugs of coffee. There were even a few times when I stumbled upon them kissing. Back then, it had embarrassed the hell out of me, but now it brings me comfort to know that they had a happy marriage. They rarely fought and always enjoyed being in each other’s company. Dad has been gone for four years and not once has Mom mentioned dating. As difficult as it would be to see her move on with someone else, I want her to be happy.
It takes effort to shake myself out of the sly memories attempting to wrap around me. “No, there’s nothing dilapidated about it.”
I pull out the key and slide it in the lock. We have a neighbor about twenty minutes away who stops by every other week to check on the mechanicals and make sure everything is in working order. Mom and Elle try to make it up here a few times a year. Whenever they plan a weekend, they invite me along. I always have a handy excuse ready. Neither of them has pushed the issue. I think all three of us realize what I’m doing. Mom was thrilled when I told her I wanted to bring Sydney here for a few days. I haven’t introduced them yet, but that’s next on the agenda.
When I open the door, she steps inside with her bag hoisted over one shoulder. Her gaze bounces around the double story family room. Beyond the expansive area is a kitchen. My parents designed the space to be open and airy. They wanted to create a place where we could all gather comfortably and spend time together as a family.
At the far end of the room is a massive field stone fireplace that takes up the entire wall. A chandelier made of antlers hangs from the ceiling. A white, oversized sectional curves around one of the walls. Opposite that is a long stretch of windows that overlook the lake. It would be a challenge to not find a gorgeous view from anywhere in this house. But the one from here is especially breathtaking.
“This place is amazing,” Sydney says quietly, soaking up all the details. She looks slightly overwhelmed. I probably should have mentioned that my family has money. It’s just not something that usually comes up in conversation.
When she remains motionless, I wrap my arm around her waist and tug her close. “I’ve really missed this place.” Now that I’m standing inside the cabin, taking in my surroundings, I realize just how true the sentiment is. I stayed away because I thought it would be too painful to return without my father. It’s only now that I wonder if I didn’t inflict more damage by not digging deep and finding the courage to return sooner.
Dad’s presence is everywhere. In every detail of the craftsmanship. I never expected it to feel like balm for the soul. In fact, I had prepared myself for the opposite.
“Are you ready for the grand tour?”
“Yup, I want to see it all,” she says lightly.
After spending the last few days worried that I’d made a mistake, everything now feels buoyant. There’s a lightness that fills the atmosphere. The smile Sydney showers me with says that she feels the shift in energy as well.
With my fingers clasped around hers, I tug her through the first floor. The kitchen, with its stainless-steel appliances and massive granite island, is our first stop. Mom mentioned that the refrigerator would be fully stocked for the weekend. I open the door and find enough food to feed a small army. I’m sure the neighbors brought over groceries so we wouldn’t have to run to the store. There’s a large dining room on the other side of the kitchen with views of the forest. We peek in the master suite before jogging up the staircase to the second floor and arriving at a loft that overlooks the family room. There’s an overstuffed couch that we used to hang out on and watch movies. I have so many fond memories of my sister and me sprawled out on the carpeted floor, playing board games while Mom puttered around in the kitchen, making dinner or baking chocolate chip cookies.
Down the wide stretch of hallway are four spacious bedrooms, each with their own en suite. Mine is the first door on the right. I pull Sydney inside and glance around the space. The walls are painted a dark blue and there’s a thick, plaid comforter covering the queen-sized bed. The decor is outdoorsy and fits with the theme of the cabin. A heavy wave of nostalgia crashes over me as I stare at what I’ve always considered my second bedroom. It all looks and feels the same as it did when I was a kid. In the summers, my parents allowed us to bring friends for a week or so. Carson has been here dozens of times, but inviting a girl is a new experience. I’ve never liked anyone enough to want to share this place with them.
As I drop my bag on the bed, Sydney does the same. I step closer and take her into my arms before pressing a kiss against the crown of her head.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever meant anything more.
She tilts her chin until our gazes can lock and hold. “Me, too.”
For the remainder of the afternoon, we hold hands and tromp through the woods, spotting a couple of deer before they disappear through the underbrush. The forest is teeming with life. Birds chirp overhead, squirrels chatter in the trees, and larger animals crunch leaves beneath their feet in the distance. I’ve missed the property so much, and it feels good to share it all with Sydney. Everything my dad taught me about the forest as well as the memories. Instead of being filled with sorrow and grief, I actually feel lighter talking about him. I haven’t done that in a long time. Once the floodgates open, it’s almost impossible to close them. Sydney listens attentively, only asking questions every once in a while. It’s like she understands that I need to get the words out and she quietly allows me to do that.
Our hands remain clasped as we walk along the water’s edge. Even though the weather has turned cooler, there are still swarms of fish at the end of the dock where the sun warms the water.
Now that I’ve ripped off the Band-Aid and it hasn’t turned out to be as painful as I anticipated, I can imagine returning here more often. I like getting Sydney away from campus. She’s more relaxed and easygoing in this environment.
When seven o’clock rolls around, we’re both famished from our explorations. We search through the fridge and cabinets and find everything we need to make spaghetti. It’s something simple yet filling. She boils the water and takes charge of the noodles and garlic bread. I man the sauce and make the salads.
The relaxed way we move around the kitchen feels like we’ve done this hundreds of times before. There’s a natural camaraderie between us that I’ve never experienced with anyone else.
By the time we eat dinner and clean up the kitchen, it’s after nine o’clock. With her fingers enclosed in mine, I pull her out to the back porch. There’s a wide swath of lawn that makes up the yard. One side is flanked by the lake and the other by dense foliage. In the middle of the space is a firepit with brightly painted Adirondack chairs scattered around it. Steps away from the back door is a small hot tub. I pull back the cover and check the temperature. It’s set to one hundred degrees, which, in this weather, is perfect.
A smile simmers around my lips as I yank off my T-shirt and drop it to my feet.
Sydney jerks her thumb toward the house. “I need to go inside and change into my suit.”
“That’s not necessary,” I say with a smirk.
She shakes her head before peering into the darkness that surrounds us with narrowed eyes.
“There’s
not a neighbor around for miles,” I remind.
“What about the psycho killers?”
“I’m pretty sure they’ve got the night off.”
She snorts out a laugh before dragging her shirt over her head. Then she shoves the denim material down her legs before stepping out of it until she’s standing before me in nothing more than a black sports bra and thong.
Holy shit. Sydney has proven that a sports bra can be just as sexy as one made out of lace. The sight of her is enough to bring me to my knees. My mouth dries as I shove my jeans down and kick them away so that I’m left standing in my boxer briefs.
With her attention fastened on me, she reaches around her back and flicks open the clasp of her bra. The straps slide down her arms, revealing slightly rounded breasts with small, dusky-colored nipples.
My gaze travels over her greedily, touching upon every single inch of her naked flesh. The lights from the house cast her in a mixture of soft light and shadow. Does Sydney have any idea how fucking beautiful she is? Or how much I want her? How much I’ve always wanted her? Even when I was trying to fool myself into believing that I didn’t.
Her fingers hover at the elastic band around her hips.
Before she can slip them beneath the stretchy material, I break the heavy silence that has fallen over us. “Let me do that.”
It only takes three steps to close the distance. I sink to my knees, tilting my head and staring up at her until our gazes catch and hold. Anticipation thrums through me as I slip my fingers beneath the band and slowly slide the tiny scrap down her hips until her perfectly shaved pussy is revealed. Once the thong has been removed, I press a kiss against the top of her slit.
Sydney’s fingers tangle in my hair as I slip my tongue between her lower lips. A sigh of contentment erupts from her, and she tightens her hold. Doesn’t this girl realize that the grip is unnecessary? There’s no way in hell I’m going anywhere. For the first time in my life, I’m exactly where I want to be, and that’s with her.
Campus Heartthrob (The Campus Series Book 2) Page 21
