Authors: Juliana Stone
I had the feeling that Monroe needed some space. Maybe I
did too.
So for a few moments, we floated and said nothing. When
she eventually made her way to the other side of the bank, I
watched her walk out and then followed her, flopping down
beside her on the large blue- and- white checker blanket her
Gram had given us.
It didn’t take long for the sun to dry the water on our skin,
and when she rolled over and began to slap on sunscreen lotion,
I had to look away. I mean, a guy could only take so much, and
the little bikini she wore didn’t hide the fact that every inch of her was beautiful.
“You want some?” she asked.
“Nah.” I shook my head. Because I was outside all the time,
my skin was tanned. I was good.
She slipped on a pair of sunglasses and offered me another
Coke. It was cold and felt good going down.
“How come you won’t play guitar?” she asked suddenly, not
looking at me but out over the water.
I followed her gaze but didn’t answer right away. I had to give
it to Monroe— she sure as hell knew how to kill the mood.
“Why do you care?”
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She shrugged. “I don’t really. I’m just curious. It seems as if
music is a huge part of your life and you’ve kind of shut it down.”
I scowled. Huh.
Couldn’t argue with that logic.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to make you angry.”
“I’m not angry.”
She turned her head and tipped her glasses down her nose.
“Yeah, you are, Nate.”
Somewhere overhead, a plane crossed the sky, and off in the
distance, I heard a chainsaw echo. I fell back, throwing my arms
over my eyes for shade.
“Playing reminds me of Trevor. It reminds me of all the things
he can’t do. The things he might never do again, and that’s all on me.” I had to pause because the emotion was there, burrowed in
my chest, and I didn’t want it to get hold of me. Not here. Not
with Monroe.
“All of it. That night. It all went south, and Trevor’s dad is
right. It’s my fault.”
“But there were four of you there that night, right?”
I didn’t answer.
“So how can his father think it’s your fault? Isn’t Trevor a big
boy? Used to making his own decisions?”
“You don’t get it.” I sprang forward and wrapped my arms
around my knees. “I was the one who drove that night. I made
that call. Did something stupid and irresponsible, and now he’s
in a coma.”
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Monroe rolled over onto her stomach and rested her head on
her arms. “Don’t you think it could have been any one of you
guys driving?”
I shook my head. “Not that night. It was my turn.” The burn
in my gut made my voice shake a little, but I couldn’t help it.
“We always did that when it came time to party. We took turns,
and that night it was mine. It was mine and I screwed up, and
nothing will ever be the same again. If I could go back in time
and change it, I would, but I can’t and now there’s no more
music. I just don’t…feel the music anymore.”
“I think— ”
She didn’t have a chance to finish because I cut her off.
“Don’t think, Monroe.” I rolled over and grabbed the sunscreen.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“What are you doing?” she angled her head back, her pale
eyes wary as I grinned at her.
“Do you want your skin to burn?”
She was too late to answer, and I squirted coconut- scented
lotion near the small of her back. Slowly I rubbed it upward,
enjoying the view and liking that she was quiet. God, her skin
was soft. And the color? It was creamy, white, like the alabaster carvings my grandfather loved.
My fingers looked dark against her, and something about the
way they looked and felt made me tight again. I was starting to
lose focus— my hands began to travel back down to where they
started, and that wasn’t a good idea.
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When I was done, I tossed the tube and slid back down
beside her.
I’m not sure how long we lay there, so close that it felt as if
were together, but the silence between us made it feel as if she
was across the lake.
“Still trying to get me naked?” she said abruptly, and I
grinned. I was glad she had made the effort to lighten whatever
this was between us. Light was good. Light made things bearable.
“Nope.”
“Huh.”
I glanced her way and found those pale eyes on me, and for
a moment, I forgot what I was going to say. Her smile widened
and she shot her elbow out, hitting me in the arm.
“You sound like you don’t believe me.”
She shook her head. “That’s because I don’t. I know what you
guys are like.”
“You guys?” I guess I should have been insulted, but I wasn’t.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “Rocker guys. They’re always trying to
get into some girl’s pants.”
Slowly, I pushed myself up until I kneeled beside her, and
then I leaned forward, pushing away a long chunk of hair so I
could whisper near her ear.
“You’re not just any girl, and Mrs. Blackwell would skin my
ass if I pulled any kind of shit on you.”
“That’s right,” she said, and I heard a quiver in her voice.
“Don’t forget it. Gram is fierce.”
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“That doesn’t mean I won’t kiss you again.”
I smiled and ran my fingers over her shoulders, liking the way
she trembled beneath them.
There was silence. For a heartbeat. Maybe two.
“I might let you kiss me again.” She shrugged and rolled over
so that she was up on her knees as well. Her skin was pink and
it wasn’t from the sun. I was pretty sure it was all about the heat between us.
“You’ll
let
me?” I wasn’t teasing anymore. Mostly because my eyes dropped to her mouth and that damn pink tongue of hers
was resting between her teeth. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, in tandem with the heavy beats of my heart.
When her eyes fell to my mouth, I might have groaned. Pussy
move, but man, she really tugged at all kinds of shit inside me.
“When you play your guitar,” she paused and exhaled. “When
you play just for me, Nate. I’ll let you kiss me again.”
She was up on her feet in a flash, a blur of pink bikini, pale
skin, and dark hair. The sun blinded me when I glanced up, and
for a few seconds, all I saw was a shadow with a ring of gold.
And then she was gone.
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I didn’t see Nate for the rest of the week and not because he wasn’t around. He’d shown up Tuesday morning with his uncle, and they
started working on the back porch up at the main plantation house.
It was a pretty big project, and the two of them worked from
early in the morning until dinnertime. He texted me a few times,
but after two days, he stopped. I guess he wasn’t impressed with
my one word answers.
Nate:
What cha doin?
Me:
nothing
Nate:
wanna hang later
Me:
No
Nate:
is something wrong
Me:
No
Except that there was. Nathan Everets confused me. The feel-
ings he made me feel confused me. And every time I thought
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about being with him, I got all nervous and anxious, and I just
didn’t do any of that real well.
It might have been immature of me, but my reaction to our
afternoon at the pond was to stay away, and even I didn’t under-
stand it. And I sure didn’t have enough experience with boys to
know what to do about it.
So I avoided him.
I didn’t go anywhere near the main plantation house, and
when Gram suggested I take Nate some lemonade, I told her
that I was pretty sure he had a supply of his own drinks.
Gram had given me her signature look— the one that made
most people cave and just do whatever it was that she wanted
done. But I didn’t fall for it.
I was pulling away, and Gram knew it. It’s what I did. But
for now, she let it go, smart enough to know that if she pushed
harder, I would disappear. I’d climb back into that dark hole I’d barely made it out of.
I knew Gram wanted to help me, and I’m pretty sure she
thought she could help Nathan too. But he made me nervous.
He made me feel. And I needed time for those things.
Only we don’t always get what we want.
Friday morning came with a blast of heat, the promise of rain,
and no Nate. Something had come up, and he and his uncle had
gone to another job site. I heard Gram’s one- sided conversation
while picking at my bowl of Lucky Charms. I’d already eaten all
the green marshmallows and was on to the pink ones.
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She hung up and turned to me, her soft white hair already
set, the curls perfect, but in this heat, they wouldn’t be for long.
“Do you want to come shopping with me, Monroe?”
I pushed my bowl away, feeling that restlessness inside expand
and tighten up. “Where?”
“Just to town. I want to go to market before the weather turns.”
I shrugged. “Sure.” It’s not like I had anything better to do.
After a quick shower, I pulled on a pair of faded jean shorts
and a white tank top and slipped my feet into a pair of old flip-
flops before pulling my damp hair into a loose side pony.
I’m not sure what made me do it, but I grabbed some gloss
from Gram’s bathroom for my lips and ran her mascara brush over
my eyelashes. For a few moments, I stared at the reflection in the mirror. I knew I would never be as tanned as the girls I’d met here, but my cheeks weren’t as pale as they used to be and my eyes…
I glanced away, scrubbing at the corners of my eyes. I almost
looked
not
sad. I almost looked normal. Pretty even.
“What do you care,” I muttered before running out to
meet Gram.
A half an hour later, she pulled up to the old fairgrounds.
There were several smaller buildings scattered around an area as
big as a football field. But the largest one was where all the local farmers gathered every Friday to sell their fresh fruit, produce, and pretty much anything else you wanted.
That’s the thing about these southern folks. They sure liked
to buy and sell, and they sure liked to gossip.
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I followed Gram inside where the air was cooler in the shade,
and it took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust. The building
was filled with all sorts of vendors and— I sniffed— probably
livestock somewhere.
“I’m going to have a look at the produce, Monroe. Can you
take this bag and grab some peaches and whatever else you want?”
She nodded to the aisle across from me and handed me some cash.
I headed down the aisle, sidestepping more than a few people
who weren’t paying attention. One lady backed into me, her
elbow hitting me in the chest, and she turned around as if it was my fault.
“Watch where you’re going,” she said in a huff.
Rolling my eyes, I moved past her, searching for the booth
that sold peaches. I figured the sooner I found what Gram
wanted, the sooner we could head back to the plantation and I
could get ready for an exciting afternoon of nothing.
I’d just spotted the peaches when someone grabbed my arm.
“Hey, Monroe, right?”
It was Brent. Nate’s buddy.
His voice was as warm as his eyes, and I nodded, smiling.
“Hey.”
He waved to someone behind me, his smile still in place.
“Seen Nate lately?”
“No, I haven’t seen him since Monday.”
He frowned. “I thought he was working out at your
grandmother’s.”
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“He is, but I…we just…” God, I sounded like an idiot,
and the longer I stumbled over my words, the wider Brent’s
smile became.
“You guys have a fight?”
“What? No.” I took a moment. Gathered my thoughts.
“We’re not even friends really, so…”
Brent snorted and leaned close. “Yeah. Okay.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked, changing the subject.
Deflecting like I always did.
He held up a few bags. “Running errands for my mom. You?”
“Same. I need some peaches for my gram.”
I moved toward the booth, aware that Brent followed, and
when I paid for the peaches, he grabbed my bag. “I’ll help you
with this.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know I don’t have to, Sugar, but us good old southern boys
are all about helping when we can.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. It’s not as if I had a lot of practice making small talk with boys. In fact, I had zero practice.
“What do you want?” I asked abruptly, coming to a full stop
and wincing because I knew I sounded like a bitch. “Look, I’m