All Falls Down (12 page)

Toby.
He's talking about Toby.

"No," I whisper. My throat is raw, but oddly, it makes the denial that much more emphatic and certain sounding. And that's just fine with me; it's nothing but the truth. I don't love Toby. I haven't in a long time.

"Thank God," Jared whispers, and then he's pulling me back into his arms, up against the hard warmth of his chest.

He feels more like home than anything else ever has. His heart thumps hard beneath my ear, and I wonder again what I'm doing. What we're doing. I want to ask him about Lexi – turnabout is only fair play, after all – but I can't force the question out. I'm not sure I'm ready to hear the answer yet. If it's a yes, I think I may hate him for it. And if it's a no? Well, I think I may hate me for that.

God… why is life so fucking
hard?

Listening to the way his heart pounds beneath my ear, I can't help but remember exactly when it stopped being easy and started hurting.

I'm walking toward the guesthouse, my backpack slung over my shoulder when I hear Caitlyn behind me. "Savannah?"

I stop walking and turn around, a smile hovering at my lips. It never fully forms when I catch sight of her expression. She's beautiful – as fair complexioned as her daughters – and has the most gorgeous blue eyes I've ever seen in my life. They always sparkle. Even when she's angry, they sparkle like sunlight dappled across seawater.

They aren't sparkling today.

They're wide – full of apologies and regret. Rimmed in red.

"
What's wrong,
Caitlyn?"

My throat is tight and my hands are numb. My body already knows that something dire is coming and is preparing to absorb the brunt of whatever agony she's about to lay at my feet.
She doesn't say anything for the longest time though. She just stares at me with those sad blue eyes.

And then she opens her mouth. "Melinda moved out this morning."

Nothing she says after that one sentence makes sense to me. It's all just random strings of words, put in some order that just can't be possible. They're Grecian, ancient Roman… some language I don't understand.

"
I'm so sorry," she finally says.

As that apology leaves her lips – lips that have no need to apologize, lips that aren't at fault – the air is sucked from the world around me. It's like God turned on some giant vacuum and sucked me down the rabbit hole. Everything spins and I can't breathe.

"
Savannah?" she says again.

Her form is blurry and black around the edges, like it's been charcoaled onto paper and then smeared through the center. I see the sisters though. They're standing on the steps of the mansion. Kit and Lexi have their heads together with little Maddi standing between them. Their arms are around one another and all three are staring at me. Crying.

My mom is gone. She's really walked away from me.

The pain hits me then and it doesn't stop.

Not even when I finally hit the bottom of the rabbit hole and everything goes black.

I shiver in Jared's arms, remembering that day. No matter how much time passes or how much I change, that memory is indelibly imprinted somewhere deep inside. Nothing – not time, not change, not even new hurts and new betrayals – will ever erase it entirely. It's just there, aching like a limb lost long ago.

I put it out of my mind. Jared's arms are around me and that's all I want to think about right now. Just him and this moment. Not the countless thousand that have come before.

"We should get you inside," he says when I shiver again.

I nod, but make no move to distance myself from him. The simple truth is that I don't want to. I don't want to step outside of this little bubble and back into reality. I know what waits for me there, and it's somewhere he can't follow. Somewhere I don't want him to follow.

"Can we talk?" he asks hesitantly, running his hands up and down my arms, trying to warm me.

Just like that, the little bubble pops and reality begins to worm its way back in. And reality is a bitch.

He's with Lexi.

"I–" I have to clear my throat before I can get anything further out, and then I don't know how to answer him. Nothing either of us says will change things. Nothing will make whatever this is between us right or possible. All we have is a moment. One single moment in a long parade.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I finally whisper and pull away.

He lets me go this time, and part of me cries out in silent disappointment. I want him to reach for me again. I want him to fight to prolong this moment.

He doesn't.

He steps away, rakes a hand through his hair. "Savannah, I–"

I'm not sure what's going to come out of his mouth, but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I don't want to hear it. I don't want him to tell me what I already know – that this can't happen.

I shake my head to silence him.

"I have to go," I murmur. My earlier desire to flee is rising again, fluttering around inside like a hummingbird at a feeder. I don't wait for an answer this time either. I just turn and start walking.

"I wish–" he says from behind me, but he doesn't finish that sentence and he doesn't try to stop me.

I'm crying again before I make it to the guesthouse.

A little after two in the morning, I hear a faint tapping at the front door. I'm still wide awake. I haven't slept at all. I've just been sitting on the couch in the dark, staring at nothing.

For a minute, I pretend I don't hear it.

A minute is all the pretense lasts.

When the tap comes again, I wipe my face and drag myself from the couch. Wrapping the afghan around my shoulders, I shuffle toward the door. The chain clinks and scrapes as I pull it with numb fingers through the catch. The deadbolt clicks. Hinges creak when I inch the door open to Jared's wild jade eyes and riotous dark blond hair. He's lost the suit jacket and bowtie, but he's still in the shirt and pants, and nothing has ever looked so good before.

He says nothing, not even when I open the door wide for him.

Neither do I.

He steps inside.

The afghan around my shoulders flutters to the floor… and then his arms are around me again. And just as it was earlier, his embrace is warm and safe and everything that isn't mine, but I'm dying to take it for myself anyway.

"This isn't right," I hear myself say. There's no force behind the statement. They're just words.

"I know," he answers, and those are just words too.

They're what we should be saying, but not even close to what either of us really means. Every promise I've made myself where he is concerned is already in tatters around me. They have been since the first moment he touched me tonight. I don't have to ask to know it's exactly the same for him. I see that truth screaming at me in desperate, wild eyes and the harsh drag and pull of his breathing.

Whatever we said outside hours ago was just more words. He's here for me, and right and wrong no longer matter.

Lexi's face flashes through my mind, but I push it away, unwilling to think right now.

"I need to kiss you," he whispers, focusing on my mouth.

"Yes."

His lips find mine and brush softly. Once. Twice. Three times. And then my mouth opens. He groans at my invitation and pulls me closer, deepening the kiss. His mouth is gentle and insistent against mine. The dam that's been building for weeks between us bursts in a brilliant display. It's mint and brandy, all soft lips and talented tongue.

Within seconds, my back is against the door and he's all over me in the best way possible. Frantic dips of his tongue into my mouth, and sharp, pleasurable nips of his teeth across my throat. I'm not innocent in this explosion either. My hands roam up and down his back and his sides. They twist through his hair and tug. I pull his bottom lip into my mouth.

He growls and presses closer.

Nothing has ever felt so perfect before.

I'm floating inside, completely separate from the things that weigh me down in the light of day. I exist only in the here and now. And here and now is his leg between mine while he leans over me, lapping at my mouth while my hands fist and wrinkle his starched, white shirt. Here and now is him groaning my name as he cradles my face in his hands and his mouth works against mine.

Here and now is inevitable. It has been for days.

We kiss until we're both panting for breath and then he wraps his arm around me and leads me to the couch. He sits and pulls me down with him, my back to his chest. Wrapping his arms around me again, he sighs in contentment.

I echo the sentiment. I still feel like I'm floating inside. Leaning my head back against his shoulder, I revel in the sensation.

His lips brush across my temple and then my forehead. There are a thousand things we should be saying, but the only sound that comes from my mouth is a soft hum.

"You're beautiful," he whispers, his lips still against my skin. "I've stared at your pictures so many times since I came here, but every time I see
you,
you take my breath away, Savannah. That day at the airport… God, I wanted to reach out and touch you so fucking badly. Just to convince myself that you were real." He chuckles a little, and I have no idea how to respond.

Even then, he wanted this? He wanted me?
Why?

"I don't want to keep fighting whatever this is between us," he says.

And suddenly it's now or never. Do or die.

"Do you love her?" I hold my breath, waiting for his answer.

He takes a deep breath and exhales. "No. It's… complicated, but no."

Complicated.

Part of me wants to ask what that means, but the larger part? It doesn't care. It doesn't care that this shouldn't happen for a million different reasons – he's involved; I'm not ready. Lexi deserves better from both of us…. None of that matters nearly as much as it should. I think maybe all of the avoidance and guilt have been nothing more than my attempt to make it matter. To make myself believe that we're strong enough not to travel down this road. They were just more words though. And he's said the only ones that really matter.

He doesn't love her.

"Tell me what you're thinking, beautiful girl," he whispers against my ear. "Tell me what you want from me. I'll give it to you, whatever it is."

Breath escapes in a rush at his quiet request and my decision is made. It's wrong. God knows it's wrong, and we'll all suffer for it, but pure relief courses through me anyway. For the first time in weeks, I've made a decision.

I can't stop the words that have already formed on the tip of my tongue. I don't want to stop them. I want this. Want it so badly it should frighten me.

"Don't fight it," I tell him.

His lips brush across my temple again.

"Okay," he says softly.

And just like that, our course is set.

Dawn is breaking outside my window when Jared shifts against me. We're in my bed, fully clothed, lying face to face. We're just… memorizing. With lips, fingers, and straining eyes. Neither of us has said much, and I'm okay with that. Eventually, we'll have to talk, but for now, I'm content, happy.