by Emily Childs
“Probably.”
I’m smiling when he gives in and breaks the pressure. Rafe draws my mouth to his. I’ve had three kisses with the man before now. One when I was six. Doesn’t count. The awkward kiss at the engagement announcement, and tonight at the dinner table. This kiss is deeper, fiercer. Fulfills an underlying need we’re both too afraid to admit is there. My hands go to his face, holding him against my lips. Rafe grips my hair. I sigh as he pulls my body firmly against his and walks us toward the bank.
I pull him down with me, gasping when his body makes a kind of cage over mine. There is a moment that I meet his eyes, a moment when we look at each other, and have the same thought: any more, and things will change.
Things changed the second he kissed me just now.
Rafe claims my mouth again. Everything feels fast and deep and meaningful. I never want it to end.
The crunch of footsteps on the gravel path tears us apart too soon. Rafe snaps his head up. I sit straight, peering through the trees and shrubs. My lips are still on fire, heart racing.
I blow out a long breath, smoothing the bit of wildness in my hair. “It’s just Arnie and the boys.”
We watch the groundskeepers walk by, totally unaware we’re tucked inside the trees.
Rafe flops back onto the grass, breathing heavily.
I can’t tell if he’s disappointed about what’s happened, so I hug my knees to my chest and look to the stars again. “We got caught up in all this, didn’t we?”
His jaw pulses, but he reaches for my hand. Rafe presses a sweet kiss to the top. “Probably, princess. Sorry, I shouldn’t have let it go on so long.”
It’s a risk to be vulnerable. “I didn’t mind.”
He sighs and my heart falls into the pit of my stomach.
“Ollie, you know I care about you, but—”
I’ve never hated a word more than but. “It’s fine, Rafe,” I say. I don’t want to hear anymore. Leaves and dirt stick to my wet legs when I stand. “I get it, really.”
“You deserve someone who can give you everything.” He reaches for his shoes.
“Rafe, please.” My voice cracks. “I said I understood. We’re not in the cards. Never were, right? That’s what everyone says. I consider you one of my best friends, that’s what we are.”
“Right,” he mutters, but he doesn’t believe it. The stubborn man doesn’t believe any of it, but he won’t budge and it breaks my heart. “That’s just how it is,” he finishes softly.
I force a smile, but that’s what I do. We both force smiles, and live up to what’s expected of us, while it feels as if misery rots me from the inside out.
Pain is not loving Rafe openly.
Misery is him not being willing to love me back.
***
Distance is a good thing. Rafe and I need space, and I should be thinking of school and graduating anyway. Still, there’s an emptiness too.
Three weeks after our creek escapade we’re normal as ever. Texting here and there, laughing and talking about nothing important when we see each other in town. Doesn’t mean I’ve stopped thinking of what happened. Part of me wishes it hadn’t happened because it wouldn’t hurt so bad now.
I chase the thoughts away and paint a grin on my face as I walk into the dim room, probably too late on a Sunday. “Hi, Millie.”
Millie sits in a recliner, the TV blasting with a Spanish soap opera. She whips around and smiles, making me feel like I’m the only person in the world who matters. She has that gift.
“Ollie, how are you sugar?” Her voice is soft, and the way it was explained to me, Millie might always have a slight speech deficit. I think she sounds like herself, but what do I know about strokes?
“Brought you some flowers,” I say, holding up a bouquet of magnolias from the house.
“Thank you, sweetheart. I miss those gardens.”
“They’re big, beautiful, and waiting for you.” I point at the TV. “Learning a new language?”
“Lord knows I’ve got the time, but no. I can’t reach the darn remote, and my knee is acting up today. The therapists have been pushing me for the home stretch. Want to make sure I’ll be safe, or some nonsense like that.”
I click off the TV. “You’re not going to like this, but I’m glad they push you. We want you home, Mill.”
“You and Rafe, together?” She grins a little slyly.
“Right,” is all I say.
“Ollie, I’m going to ask you something, and as a mother I want the truth.”
I lift a brow. “Okay.”
“You care about my son, right?”
“Yes, Millie. You know that.” The trouble is I care too much.
Millie rubs her limp fingers and before I realize what I’m doing, I take over the massage for her. “And you? You feel good with Rafe? He shows you how you deserve to be treated?”
“Rafe’s always treated me right. You taught him.”
“How does he make you feel, though? Humor me and spill.”
I’ve always been honest with Millie, and I suppose old habits die hard. I spill everything. “Rafe makes me feel powerful,” I say. “He speaks softly, even if he’s mad, or setting me straight. We have a similar sense of humor, and he’s the one person I can laugh at nothing with. Rafe never makes me feel like I can’t stand on my own two feet. Not everyone believes a woman like me should have opinions or high aspirations that don’t fit the mold.”
Millie’s eyes are glassy when she pats my hand. “If you feel all that why the long face, sweetheart?”
I can’t even pretend to smile. “People don’t think we’re suited, and I think Rafe believes what they say. Sometimes I wonder if he’ll really want me, or if the noise will get in the way.”
“Have you told him this?”
“Not directly, I suppose.”
“In my life, I’ve learned that keeping things inside doesn’t serve anyone. Especially those we love.”
I shake my head. “What if we’re too different, Millie?”
“Different is good,” she insists. “You might have different backgrounds, different aspirations, different temperaments, but at the core, you two are so similar I’ve never seen such a match.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Ollie, you never allowed prejudices to creep into your heart. You loved us, me and August included, no matter what.” Millie leans back in the chair. “In a way, Rafe has done the same. Despite being rejected by others, it never changed his opinion of you. I know my son, and I’ve never seen him light up more than when he’s with you. I’ve seen that since y’all were kids. He might try to tell himself you deserve better, but if you let him know that’s a bunch of sewer sludge, I think you’re the woman to make my son the happiest man in Honeyville. I believe that, and have for a long while.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“I’m also a believer of letting people figure out their own hearts. Don’t worry if you two knuckle-heads took much longer I’d have something to say.”
“I wish everyone agreed with you.”
Millie pats my knee. “I suppose it’s up to the two of you to decide if you’re going to listen, or simply be. It would be a shame to let something go because someone else thought they knew better.”
I’m not sure I’ve ever agreed with something more. The trick is getting Rafe to believe it too.
Rafe
5 years ago
Olive trudges up the pathway. Her white sneakers sink in the grass with heavy steps. It’s wet and they’re going to get dirty, but she doesn’t even seem to notice.
Something is up.
I can take a guess that she’s still moping because Aug, Lily, and I graduated today. She’s been sulking for two weeks, talking like we’re never going to see each other again. It’s a small town, and she’s Olive. There’s no way I won’t be able to go long without seeing her.
I stand next to the fire pit Mr. Cutler was nice enough to let us use. No one else seems to notice
she’s coming our way. Zac is laughing with other guys from school. August and Lily can’t stop touching each other. So it’s left to me to wave her over.
She must not see me because Olive veers in a different direction, face shadowed.
“Ollie,” I shout over the fire. She glances over her shoulder and smiles, but it’s not the same bright grin I’m used to.
June, a girl who ran track with me, snorts and mutters something to Hannah at her side.
“I’m heading in,” Olive says. “Have a good time.”
“Come on over, Ollie,” Lily adds. They’re close now, especially after Mr. and Mrs. Cutler let Lily live in the Big House the entire year since her daddy moved to Baton Rouge for work. Olive and Lily are practically sisters.
“Come on, princess,” I say. I hear June mock the nickname, but she’s got it all wrong. Olive is a princess for entirely different reasons than being southern royalty. “Come sit with us.”
She takes another moment, but nods and sits at my side. “Congratulations on graduating y’all.”
“It’ll come soon enough, lollipop,” August says.
“We didn’t get to see much of you after the ceremony,” I say.
“Oh, I—”
“Because we had to get to partying, Rafe,” June says, slinging her arm around my shoulders. Weird. She’s never done that before.
“Surprising to have a Cutler at the commencement anyway,” Heath, another runner says.
My brows knit together. Why’d he say it like that? “Not sure what that means, Heath, but Olive can sit with us whenever she pleases.”
“Ignore Heath, Ollie,” Zac says. “He was dropped as a boy.”
“I’ll only stay for a little while,” she says, but I like the way she nestles against my shoulder a little.
“Busy morning tomorrow?” June sneers.
I shoot her a look. What is her problem?
“A bit,” Olive replies.
“Salons, manicures, or is it pedicures?” June asks.
“June be polite. This is Olive’s home,” Lily demands. She mouths a sorry to Olive.
Lily is always calm, as for me, I clench my fists.
But I’ve got to hand it to August’s girlfriend, Lily knows how to lighten the mood. She claps her hands together and beams. “Did I tell y’all that I got into LSU?”
“Don’t remind me,” Olive says. “It’s really happening. You’re leaving me for Louisiana.”
“Girl, we’ll still talk all the time.”
Olive smiles. There she is, the real Ollie.
“How are you going to survive, August?” Zac taunts. I clench my jaw. Little does he know what’s happening.
“I’m going with her,” my brother says. “Obviously. There’s as much work in Louisiana as here.”
I glance at Olive. She must not have known that part because her grin fades. She meets my eyes sort of desperately, as if I’m about to drop a ball that I’m leaving too.
“Aug will go to school when I’m done. At least that’s the plan,” Lily explains. “Hopefully, I get a job and pay his way.”
“I thought you’d be working at the shop with me and Rafe,” Zac says.
A curl tugs a smile on my mouth when Olive exhales, glad she seems relieved that I’m still going to be around.
“Sorry, man,” August says. “I’d take her over you morons any day.”
“Aren’t you going to take classes?” Olive asks me.
“Earning money is more important right now, Ol,” I say.
“But you’re still planning on going to school, right?”
June groans. “Not everyone goes to college, you know. Some people don’t have a trust fund to support a beautiful, planned-out, road to success.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Olive says, face red.
“Sure,” June snaps.
“Hey, get off her,” I say.
“I’m not on anyone,” June insists, but she’s still looking at Olive. “No offense, sweetie, but you’ve probably got post-graduation all planned. Where are you going to school? Yale? Stanford? Columbia? What do your parents want you to study? Law, or medicine?”
Thankfully Lily is the one to jump in again, or I might start yelling. “June you’re being unkind, and frankly, judgmental.”
“She’s judging Rafe for working instead of going to school.”
Olive bolts to her feet. “I wasn’t judging. You know nothing about me. I was merely asking my friend—whom I’ve known since I was two—a question. Mylanta.” Olive starts to leave. “Sorry, but I’m suddenly tired. Have a great evening. Stay as long as you’d like. Oh, and June—look out for snakes. You haven’t been up here before. We’re stacked with them.”
Lily calls her back, and I’m glad Zac and August have the guts to stand up for her too. They’re halfway through their scolding of June when I turn on her. “You’re as bad as the ones who think we’re trash, June. For your information, Olive wants to be a teacher.”
“And there he goes, like always,” August chuckles as I jog after her.
“Ollie, wait. Don’t go inside.”
“I’m fine, Rafe,” she says. “I don’t want to dampen anyone’s graduation night.”
“You weren’t dampening anything. Though, lying about snakes wasn’t kind to Arnie. He’d die of shame if he heard you telling people his lawn was overrun.” I step closer. “I’m not saying we need to go back there.”
“What are you doing?” Her voice is soft, almost hesitant.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “I’m coming with you. What do you feel like doing?”
“Rafe, don’t ditch your friends.”
“I didn’t think I was. Thought I was choosing one.”
“You want to hang out with me tonight? Some ignorant, rich girl?”
“That’s what I said, right? But I don’t see anyone ignorant standing in front of me. Now what should we do?” All she does is smile and I know. “I’ll go get my keys. The beach it is.”
Chapter 14
Rafe
I splash water over my face at the back of the shop. My fingernails are dark, rife with grease, and my shoulders ache from hunching most of the day. Working isn’t a problem, I like getting my hands dirty, but when Zac announced the shop would close early today, I can’t say I’m disappointed.
“You know how long it’s been since I’ve met a mother?” Zac grumbles as he stacks receipts on the front desk. “I don’t even know what to say. What if she asks what my intentions are? Do parents still do that?”
“Are you sure you want to meet a mother?” I flick Zac’s hairless chin. It’s been three years since I’ve seen his baby face. He looks eighteen. “You brought Krista to the Cutler’s, but this isn’t her family you’re meeting, right?”
“Shut up,” Zac says. “I like Callie.”
“Callie, that’s right.” I laugh when Zac lifts his middle finger. “What’s with shaving?”
“I don’t know, Callie made a comment she likes clean-shaven men.”
“Wow, she must be something if she got Zac Dawson to shave his face.”
“You know what, when you’re sitting at our wedding you’ll be apologizing for being stupid about it.” Zac grimaces. “That left a bad taste in my mouth. Weddings and all that. Speaking of weddings, what happened to your bride-to-be? I haven’t seen Olive for a bit.”
“We’re about the same as we were before. She’s busy, I’m busy.” The truth is I don’t trust myself with Olive anymore.
“That girl has guts, kissing you right in front of her mama. Although, seeing Beau get put in his place, I’d pay to watch that again. What?” Zac pauses when I shift on my feet. He groans. “Great, what happened?”
“Nothing, happened.”
“What did you do?”
I scowl and follow Zac to the parking lot. “I might have let things spin out of control out by the creek.”
Zac’s eyes pop. “Did you sleep with Olive?”
“What? No. Outsi
de? Come on, idiot, I wouldn’t do that. We made out.”
Zac grins as though he approves. “What’s the problem then?”
I rake a hand through my sweaty hair. “I might’ve hinted that we weren’t good together.”
“Let me guess, because she’s a Cutler and you’re not good enough.”
“You know how it is.”
“Yeah, and there aren’t a whole lot of people who think that way anymore. Are you going to toe the line for a few?”
A loud few, I think. “I don’t get you, man,” I say. “When I told you about all this, you told me to be careful. Like I shouldn’t go this way either.”
“I did, you’re right. It’s what I thought until I saw Olive stick it to her own family for you. She wasn’t just telling Beau to shut up, Rafe. She was letting him know where you stood in her eyes. I figure if Olive can break the norm, then it’s about time we all did.”
I blow out a long breath. “I think what I said hurt her feelings. She tried to brush it off, but here we are. Back to barely talking again.”
“Then fix it.”
“Why? It’s not real.”
Zac opens his truck and climbs in, but taps his thumb on the steering wheel. “One, because she’s your oldest friend. That should count for something. Two, because you want her.”
I fold my arms over my chest, shaking my head.
“Answer this for me, Rafe,” Zac goes one. “If you forgot about pretending, would you want Olive to be your friend, or more?”
“It doesn’t always matter what we want.” My stomach feels tight even saying it.
“So, yes,” Zac says. “My advice, since I’m the poster-boy of long-term relationships, go out with her. Not for this fake crap. Not with anyone else. Just you two. Tell Olive the truth, man. I’ve got to go, but don’t screw anything up while I’m gone, yeah?”
“Tuck in your shirt, Zac,” I call out before he closes the door.
Zac gives me one more rude finger before he peels out of the lot. I lean against my truck. It’s only one-thirty. Olive will still be with her class. As much as Zac isn’t the posterchild for relationships, he’s right about Olive.
We need to talk.
No stress. No lies. Only us.
