by Hannah Gray
His words shouldn’t infuriate me, but they do.
“I don’t deserve to move on. Don’t you get it? I don’t want to move on.” I clench my fist. “She can’t move on because of me. Why the hell should I get the chance?” I yell through gritted teeth, causing my mom to jump slightly.
I feel like an asshole, but I have so much fucking anger living inside of me. Anger that just sits and sits and sits, and one day, it’s going to erupt and take out everyone I love down with it.
Looking at my parents, I see so much sadness. For years, they have watched their son push away everyone who loves him, shutting them out. They’ve watched me self-sabotage time and time again. They’ve heard stories of me pouring liquor down my throat until I could no longer walk. They’ve smelled the weed when I came home stoned after trying to numb the pain. Yet they stand by me. They always stand by me. Never even questioning if they should, instead just doing it.
Shaking my head at the words about to come out of my mouth, I look down at my hands. “All right. I’ll do it.”
If it gives them some sort of peace of mind for me to try this, I will.
My mom’s blue eyes look up at me. “You’ll do what?” she asks, obviously not believing my words.
“I’ll get help.” My cheeks grow hot. I feel completely vulnerable, and I don’t like it one fucking bit. “For you guys, I’ll do it.” Looking my mom in the eyes, I tell her honestly, “If I don’t think it’s working though, I’m going to stop.”
She bursts into tears and buries her face against my chest. “Oh, thank you, Lane. Thank you so much. I know this isn’t something you want to do, but I do think it’ll help. I really do.”
I want to believe her words. But I’m not so sure if I do.
God, I fucking hope so.
The next day, I need to catch my flight back in the afternoon. I would stay longer for my parents’ sake, but next week is a huge one for the team, and I need to be present. But before we leave, I wake up extra early and take my dad’s truck to somewhere I need to go. It wouldn’t be right if I didn’t.
Walking down the long cobblestone path, my feet lead me to a place I visit every time I make it home. Kneeling down, I run my finger over the delicate lilies and the name on the stone. The name of someone taken way too soon from this world. Someone whose smile could light up an entire room. Hell, probably the entire world.
“Bet you’re wondering why the heck I’m back in this shithole town, aren’t you?” I shake my head at the sound of me talking to myself. It always feels awkward, yet I feel like she can hear me. I hope anyway.
“Yeah, I know. I avoid this town at all costs.” I force myself to give her the smallest smile. “But you already know that.”
I look down at the grass in front of the stone, noticing some fresh lilies that look like someone had to have been there the day before. Her mom, I’m sure.
Abby loved lilies. They were her favorite. And to her parents, she was the entire world. I have no doubt they come here every single day. I always make sure to come in the early morning hours or late at night to avoid running into anyone here. I wouldn’t know what to say if I ever did see someone here. Or worse, what they’d say to me.
Clearing my throat, I glance around to make sure no one is around. Turning my attention back to the huge stone in front of me, I shake my head. Each breath I take puts a cloud of white smoke into the air. Zipping my jacket up even further, I stuff my hands into my pockets.
“So … I did something sort of crazy. You are going to think I went and lost my damn mind.” I think I did. The words stick in my throat, but I force myself to say them. Despite feeling like a damn idiot. “I agreed to see a damn shrink. My mom’s going to set it up for me this week. I bet you never thought you’d hear me say that, huh?”
A lump forms in my throat, and I push it down. Looking at the name again, I feel my chest tighten. Seeing her beautiful name on that stone will never get any easier.
“I am so, so sorry, Abby. If I could go back to that night and change things … if I could take your place so you could be here, living your life, I would do it in a fucking heartbeat.” What I’m saying is true. I mean every single word.
Pulling my hands out of my jacket, I wipe my eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
After what is probably close to twenty minutes, I gather myself up. I pat the stone again. “I love you, Abby Jean. I’ll love you for the rest of my life,” I say, pressing a kiss to my fingers and holding it to the stone. “See you next time.”
With one final glance around, I make my way back to the truck and get the hell out of this town.
seventeen
Memphis
January
I hug my mom good-bye outside of a little café we like to meet at for breakfast. I try to meet her once a week, so she knows I’m still here for her. Although these days, I think I could skip a week, and she’d be fine. She’s got a new man, and even though it’s somewhat weird, I’m happy for her.
John Kade is a widowed father who used to be in the NFL. His son is Trent Kade, the quarterback for the football team at NEU and who also happens to be roommates and best friends with Lane Rivers. As if the universe isn’t trying to give me the middle finger by having that happen.
Pfft … well played, universe. Well played.
As we make our way outside to our cars, she throws her arms in the air. “Oh crap! I almost forgot that John needs these papers dropped off to Trent.” Reaching in her front seat, she pulls out a large envelope. “They are very important. I told him I’d have you drop it off at his house. If he isn’t home, just leave it in his mailbox.”
My stomach almost drops clear out of my ass at the mention of going to Trent Kade’s house. Not because I haven’t been around him because we have seen each other on numerous occasions since our parents started dating. Nothing crazy but a few family dinners here and there. So, no, that’s not the problem. The problem is, I haven’t seen Lane since his Halloween party when he was dressed up as the sexiest Captain America in history.
What if he’s there? What if he recognizes me? What if he thinks I’m stalking him?
Okay, I’m being crazy. That was months ago. He’s probably had tons of hook-ups since then.
Chances that he remembers me are slim. Besides, I had a blonde wig on.
Forcing a smile, I take the envelope from her. “Okay,” I squeak awkwardly, praying my mother doesn’t notice and suspect something.
Luckily, she doesn’t and pulls me in for a hug. “Thanks for meeting me. I love you. Call me tomorrow.”
“Love you too. Tell John I said hello.”
At the mention of John, her face breaks into a huge smile.
She’s quite smitten by him, so I try to make sure she sees that I am supportive of their relationship.
When she first dropped the bomb, I was a little caught off guard. Okay, a lot caught off guard. I started crying. I went home, watched Thor, and ate a pint of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. Then, I watched The Avengers, cried some more, and eventually passed out.
But the next morning, I got in my car, and I drove my ass to my mom’s and apologized. I gave her a huge hug and told her I was happy for her. Sure, at first, I hadn’t been that thrilled. But once I saw how happy he made her, I realized that this was a good thing for her—and for me even. In a way, I felt … free. For once, she had someone else besides me to be there for her.
Since my dad died, we’ve only had each other. While I love being there for my mom, it’s also nice to finally feel like I am not carrying all of the responsibility of her happiness. And besides, John is really good to her. She’s given everything and anything to make sure I am happy. I need to do the same.
I pull up in front of the football house and put my car in park.
I glance at myself in the mirror. Blue eyes, almost too big for my face, stare back at me. I look tired. Sleep isn’t always easy, no matter how tired I am. Insomnia can be a real bitch. Exhaling, I smooth down my
long, dark hair and send up a little prayer to the man upstairs that I won’t run into Lane.
Pushing the car door open, I breathe out a long, shaky breath and let my duck boots carry me to the front door. I’m so nervous that my legs are literally numb. I feel ridiculous for being so nervous.
I mean, really, why would it matter if Lane was here? He won’t remember me. So, why do I even care?
I suppose it could be that I still think about him on a daily basis. I am often haunted by the sound of his cries.
I knock a few times, noting that Trent’s truck is in the driveway, which is a good sign. But there’s also a dark gray truck that sits very high in the air, much like Trent’s. Hopefully, it’s Mason’s and not Lane’s.
My hope quickly vanishes when a shirtless Lane swings the door open. My eyes involuntarily wander down to his NEU gray sweatpants, which hang dangerously low on his hips.
Of course he has the damn V leading down to his … area. And here I thought that was only in magazines.
I almost have to wipe the drool from my chin before forcing my eyes back up to his face.
His usual charming smile is nowhere to be seen as he looks at me with questioning eyes. After a few awkward moments of a good old-fashioned staredown, he shakes his head, as if trying to snap himself out of whatever other world he seemed to travel to just now. “Can I, uh, help you?”
My words take a few extra seconds than I’d like to come out, and it’s all I can do to not sound like a blubbering idiot. “No. I mean, uh, not really. Can you give this to Trent for me?”
I hold out the envelope, and he glances down for a few moments before finally taking it from my hand.
His eyes narrow slightly as he tilts his head to the side. “Uh, sure. You aren’t a stalker though, are you? He’d be pissed at me if I gave him something from a stalker.” He attempts to laugh, but his eyes roam my face again.
I can tell something is making him uneasy. The thought that I make him uncomfortable makes me feel super uncomfortable.
I do my best to keep my face unchanged. “No. My mother is dating Mr. Kade. John wanted me to drop these off to him. I have no idea what they are, but it sounded like it was important that he gets them.”
We stand there for another moment, watching each other’s next move.
“Well, thank you,” I finally say. “Have a good day.” Turning around, I head toward my car.
I make it a few steps before his deep yet smooth voice stops me.
“You’re that girl. From the party. I knew you looked familiar,” he says boldly.
I curse under my breath. Fuck, this is going to be awkward.
Turning slowly, I nod my head. “Y-you did?” I really didn’t think he would recognize me from being Captain Marvel. I was wearing a damn wig. Maybe that night has been hard for him to forget too.
“The girl that those fraternity assholes were pestering,” he says. As if he’s connecting the dots.
So, he doesn’t recognize me from his bedroom on Halloween, the night we made out. But he did remember me from the first party, so that’s something … right? Maybe I’m not that forgettable. Who am I kidding? His tongue was in my mouth, and he doesn’t even remember.
I sure remember it though. When I recall the memory, a shiver runs up my spine.
Nodding slowly, I lick my suddenly dry lips before answering, “Yep, you are correct.” Never mind the fact that your mouth was on mine, asshole. “Anyway, I should get going. Please make sure Trent gets that,” I say, pointing to the envelope.
“Will do.” He nods.
And with that, I give him a small smile and walk to my car. Feeling his eyes on my back every step of the way.
Lane
I knew I had seen that chick before. I just knew it. Once I remembered where I recognized her from, I thought back to that night when I’d really looked at her. Her skin and hair had looked so much like Abby’s that I was convinced I was seeing a ghost. Her eyes though, they were different.
Abby’s were a deep brown. This girl, whoever she is, her eyes are as blue as the damn ocean. I don’t mean the shitty-colored ocean in New England either. No, I’m talking the damn turquoise waters in the Bahamas or some shit.
Ever since I saw that shrink a few months ago, I haven’t had quite as many dreams or gotten tripped out as bad when I see a silky head of dark hair at a party. But this girl? She caught me off guard. At the party and today again. But aside from that, something else about her felt very … familiar. And I can’t figure out why.
Abby always had this Megan Fox type of thing going on. Dark hair, perfect skin, and the kindest eyes I had ever seen. I could look inside of them and feel … safe.
This girl, she had the same Megan Fox thing going on, only her eyes weren’t safe. They were captivating. It was almost like they could see right through the bullshit and into my soul.
I somehow feel like I’ve seen her somewhere other than that short run-in at my party. I just can’t place where exactly. But I’m determined to figure it out.
I hear Mason’s truck roar into the driveway, and shortly after, he and Trent walk through the door.
“Honey, we’re home,” Mason singsongs.
“How was your workout, sweet pea?” I joke back.
Trent tends to be more serious than Mase and me. I think we both joke our way through life. It beats the alternative.
For once, I got my workout in before those fuckers today. They couldn’t believe it when I told them I had woken up at five a.m. and headed to the gym. It turns out, between not partying quite as much and actually dealing with my shit, waking up early isn’t so bad.
I point to the envelope on the table, and Trent squints at it, picking it up and opening it.
“My old man drop this off?” he asks while rifling through the papers.
I know that if I let on any sort of interest in his potential stepsister, he’ll never tell me her name. I need to make it out like I didn’t notice how insanely hot she was—but, fuck, I did. She had an ass on her that was to die for.
Playing on my phone, pretending to be distracted, I shake my head. “No. Some girl did a bit ago. Everything okay?”
He nods. “Yeah, it’s fine. It’s just some papers I need for the house since we’ll be putting it on the market once we all leave after graduation.”
Mason’s head is buried in the fridge. “Girl? What girl is that, Kade? You holding out on us?” he yells over his shoulder.
Trent tenses and grunts a noise, telling me he’s not thrilled to be talking about this. “I told you guys, my dad has a new girlfriend, Carla.”
Playing dumb, I nod my chin at him and grin. “Holy fuck, your dad likes them young, doesn’t he?”
A pillow is thrown at my head from Trent’s direction., and I hold back on laughing.
“Hey, what was that for, asshole?” I yell.
“That was Carla’s daughter, you dumbass,” Trent growls out at me.
I hold my hands up and shrug. Pretending to have no idea what he’s talking about.
“Is your new stepsissy hot or what, man?” Mason calls out with a whistle.
He snorts. “No, Memphis isn’t hot. Shut the fuck up about it, would you? And she is not my stepsister. My dad’s been dating her mother for, like, two months.”
Memphis. Her name plays in my head over and over.
Trent didn’t even mean to, yet he gave me the key to finding out who this girl is. I shouldn’t go digging around. I shouldn’t want to. But there was just something about her that I can’t explain or put my finger on. I might not remember every one-night stand or chick I’ve fooled around with because I suppose I overindulge in the opposite sex. But I know her from somewhere. Now, I just need to figure out where. And I need to do it without Trent knowing.
Later on, once I’m alone in my room, I pull my phone out. I’ve never heard the name Memphis in my life, so I’m sure she won’t be hard to find. Typing in Memphis, I scroll through the profiles Facebook provides me with b
efore a grin breaks across my face.
“Bingo.”
Those eyes and dark hair pooling over her shoulders are hard to miss. It’s her, no question. And, my God, she’s fucking sexy.
Her profile doesn’t have a lot on it that’s public. Yet I can see a mutual friend tagged her in a group pic of a shit-ton of hot girls dressed up for Halloween. I zoom in on their faces until I find her. And when I do, it all comes back.
How the fuck did I not realize who she was before?
eighteen
Memphis
Finishing putting the books away at the library, I glance at my watch. I only have about ten more minutes before my shift ends. Then, I need to go get a coffee at Coffee Hut before my class this afternoon. I’m dragging ass today. Last night, I didn’t get much sleep at all, and it’s catching up to me.
I hear a throat clear behind me, followed by a deep voice. An incredibly sexy, deep voice, instantly grabbing my attention. “Excuse me, ma’am?”
“Yes?” I whirl around.
My eyes widen as I take in Lane Rivers’s tall, muscular body towering behind me. He’s a giant, for Pete’s sake. He’s in a NEU gray shirt and jeans with a black baseball cap, and I can’t even lie—he looks good enough to eat. It’s actually annoying that someone could be that attractive without even trying.
He grins, keeping his usual carefree demeanor. “So, it seems I knew you from more than just that first party, huh, Memphis?” he says, drawling my name, making my heartbeat speed up.
Thankfully, I manage to keep myself composed. Barely.
“You were trying to play it off like we had only met that one time.” He playfully tsks me, slightly shaking his head back and forth.
It takes every fiber in my being to remain calm in his presence. Hopefully, he doesn’t know that my palms are actually sweating so much that these books might possibly slide out and onto the floor. Which I know is totally gross. I’m also thankful for the scarf I’m wearing today, as it covers my neck up. I have this curse that when I get nervous or uncomfortable, my entire neck breaks out in hives. It’s always been a dead giveaway to my mom and anyone who knows me when something’s wrong.
