Read My Sweetest Escape Online
Authors: Chelsea M. Cameron
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General
detergent, but we would never, ever be out
of Nutella.
Tearing the croissant up, she unscrewed
the jar of Nutella and dipped a knife in and
slathered the chocolate goodness on the
croissant pieces.
“Trust me. Hunter didn’t back down
when I pushed him away, and Dusty is the
same way.” I looked around, but no one
was listening or watching us.
“What are you talking about, baby?”
Hunter said, coming up behind Taylor and
putting his head on her shoulder.
“Yeast infections,” she said with a wink
at me.
“Yum. You gonna share some of that?”
he said, pointing to her Nutella-covered
croissant bits.
She sighed and held one up for him and
he ate it from her fingers and she laughed
as he licked the chocolate off. Taylor gave
me a look, and at first I didn’t understand it,
but then she reached out and pulled me
close so she could whisper in my ear.
“Let him in. You’ll regret it if you don’t.
Trust me.”
She let me go and went back to feeding
Hunter parts of her croissant. I went back
into the living room and found Dusty
messing around with Hunter’s guitar. I
didn’t know he could play.
Everyone else was still in the kitchen
and I had the feeling that they were trying
to give us some privacy.
“Have any requests, Red?” he said,
strumming the instrument as if he was born
with one in his hand.
“You can play?”
“Yeah, Hunter’s been teaching me. I feel
like you kind of have to play if you’re a
music teacher. You know, for sing-alongs
and stuff.” Well, those must have been
some damn good lessons, because it was
obvious that he was a natural.
“What was that song you sang to me last
night at Hannah’s?”
I said quietly so no one would overhear.
“Oh, ‘Live and Die’ by the Avett
Brothers. I’m surprised you didn’t know
that one.” I’d gotten a few of their CDs, but
not all of them. He started the upbeat song,
which had a sweet melody that somehow
worked with the lyrics, which might have
been taken from a
much-less-jaunty-sounding song.
Dusty’s singing voice was deeper than I
would have thought, and I could tell he’d
had to take the song down a few keys to
make it work for him, but he’d done it
flawlessly.
I couldn’t help but tap my feet to the
addicting chorus, and I felt the eyes and
ears of everyone in the kitchen on me and
Dusty. He kept his eyes on me the whole
time, barely even blinking. A smile of pure
joy was stuck on his face, and I couldn’t
help but smile, too. He strummed the last
note of the song and I laughed.
“What next, Red?”
“You don’t have to do this.”
“I want to. I like playing. It’s one of the
only things that makes me truly and
completely happy.” He leaned over the
guitar and lowered his voice. “Besides you,
of course.”
I shot a look behind me, but everyone
scrambled to pre tend they hadn’t been
eavesdropping. “Dusty.”
“What? I can’t say that you make me
happy? Damn, Red. Harsh.”
“Play whatever you want. It doesn’t
matter to me,” I said, crossing my arms.
“Okay. I will.”
And then he started a song that made
me want to beg him to stop and pick
another song. After seeing that picture of
Nathan, my memories of him were fresh
and raw and this song was just going to
make it worse.
Dusty somehow did justice to the Ingrid
Michaelson version of “Creep,” although I
had no idea how. Their voices were galaxies
apart, but Dusty took her soft version and
added a little bit of the edge back in,
making it a little harder, a little more
heart-wrenching, and I couldn’t take it.
I got up from the couch and Dusty
stopped, slamming his hand on the guitar to
stop the strings from vibrating.
“I can’t.” And then I dramatically dashed
from the room, ran downstairs and
slammed my door before he, and everyone
else, could see me crying.
Of course, given the fact that I lived with
a crap ton of people, someone was bound
to come after me. A soft knock at my door
made me look up from my pillow. I’d
thrown myself on my bed, hoping to get
myself together so I could explain it to
whoever came to ask me what the hell was
going on.
“Joscelyn.” Of course it was Dusty. They
couldn’t have sent Taylor, or Mase, or even
Renee. I wondered how hard he had to fight
to be the one to come and check on me.
“Go away, Dusty. Seriously. Just leave
me the fuck alone.
Go back to your apartment. I’m sure
Napoleon is missing you.”
“I’m not going away. I thought I made
that pretty damn clear.” I heard him slide to
the floor outside the door. “So you can stay
in there all you want, but eventually you
will need food, or the bathroom, or to get
some more Skittles and M&M’s, and I’m
going to be here.”
“Why can’t you find someone else?” I
said, throwing my pillow at the door. It was
a pointless thing to do and didn’t make me
feel any better.
“I don’t want anyone else, Red. I want
you.”
“Well, I don’t want you.”
He laughed, and I wished I could reach
through the door and strangle him.
“I think I can smell your pants burning
from here.”
“You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t
you?” I got up and spoke through the door
so he could hear me loud and clear.
“Sometimes.”
“Dusty. Please. Just leave. Me. Alone.”
He was silent for a moment. I thought
he was going to finally go away, but I didn’t
hear him get up.
Then I heard him singing softly. “This” by
Ed Sheeran. I adored that song, under
normal circumstances.
“You’re not going to get me to come out
by singing, so just stop it.” He didn’t. The
song continued, and Dusty’s voice got
louder and stronger.
“Shut the fuck up!” I screamed,
pounding on the door. It was just too much.
I tried to drown him out, but I couldn’t.
I kicked the door repeatedly, trying
whatever I could, short of opening the door
and punching his lights out, to get him to
stop and go away.
“SHUT UP!” His voice was calm and
smooth as he sang.
I kicked the door one more time and
screamed in frustration. He ignored me.
I panted from my freak-out and sat on
the floor. My nose was running, so I wiped
it on my sleeve.
“Why won’t you stop?” I said, not loud
enough for him to hear. “I’m the reason
your brother is dead. Why can’t you
understand that and leave me alone?” The
song cut off.
“What did you say?” There was no way
he could have heard me.
“Nothing.” I moved closer to the door.
“Dusty?”
“Yes, Jos.”
“Do you think you could ever hate me?”
He shifted on the other side of the door,
and his voice got closer, as if he was talking
through the crack between the door and
the frame.
“Listen to me, Joscelyn. I want you to
really hear what I’m saying. If you don’t
believe any other thing I say, believe this.
There is nothing,
nothing,
you could, or
would ever do, that would make me hate
you. You’re not capable of doing something
to cause anyone to hate you. I know that.
And I also know that…that I love you.”
I started to cry again, putting my head
against the door. It was solid and
reassuring, and that was what I needed.
“You wouldn’t if you knew, Dusty. You
wouldn’t.” I put my hand on the door, and
somehow I knew he was doing the same on
the other side.
“Oh, Jos. I just… I want to touch you and
hold you so bad right now. Can you please
let me in? Please.” I reached my hand up
and unlocked the door.
“It’s open,” I said, scooting back from
the door as he turned the knob and opened
the door slowly.
I looked up and there he was.
“Oh, sweet girl.” He crouched down next
to me and picked me up and set me down
on my bed, stretching out beside me and
brushing the tears from my face. He kissed
the tip of my nose and I couldn’t stop him.
“Dusty, don’t.”
“Stop telling me what to do, Jos. For this
once, I’m not going to be a gentleman and
listen to you.” He pulled me tight against
him, and I struggled a little to get free, but
his arms were like steel cables and I didn’t
really try that hard.
“Let me. Just let me for a little while.”
He locked his arms around me and I turned
my head so it was against his chest.
His heart pounded like the rough beat of
a drum, and I listened to it, trying to let
everything else go.
Once he was sure I wasn’t going to try to
get away from him, his hands loosened on
my back and started moving up and down
in soothing waves.
The tears continued, but they weren’t as
bad as before.
He didn’t sing. He didn’t speak. He just
held me and breathed with me and let me
cry my tears into his shirt until I was wrung
out and didn’t have any left. At least for
now.
My arm was falling asleep, so I shifted
and he tensed up.
“Sorry. I just need to move.” He
loosened his grip, and I turned so I was in a
better position. One of his hands went
under my chin, tipping my face up so he
could look at it.
“I’m a mess. I know,” I said as he
brushed some of my hair out of my eyes.
“A beautiful mess I don’t know how I got
myself roped into.”
“I didn’t rope you.”
“Yes, you did. It just isn’t your fault.”
That
wasn’t, maybe.
“Joscelyn?”
“Mmm?”
“You’re not this upset about the virginity
thing, are you?”
I couldn’t lie anymore. “No.”
“It’s something else. Something bigger.”
I nodded with his hand still under my
chin.
“Then I have to tell you that you’re not
the only one who has something so big and
so bad that they can’t tell anyone.
You’re not the only one. Do you
understand?”
“What?” I’d known there were lots of
secrets about Dusty’s past that he would
rather leave buried, but I just assumed he
had a bad home life, or he’d been abused,
or something like that. What was it with
people and secrets? I seemed to attract
them. First Hannah and now Dusty.
“But you know what? Compared with
the thought of losing you, my secret doesn’t
seem so big anymore. You’re the first
person I’ve told about this.”
I tried to put my hand on his mouth, but
he moved it.
“No, I’m going to tell you, not because I
want to, but I need you to hear it.” I held on
to his shirt. “You saw that picture of me and
my brother, right?” Oh, no. Oh,
nonononono.
I stiffened in his arms, but he didn’t stop
talking.
“Well, he died. Nine months ago. And
it’s my fault.”
At the exact moment my brain took the
things he said and translated them, I was
sure my heart stopped.
I sat up, wrenching myself out of his
arms.
“I can’t listen to this. I can’t, I can’t, I
can’t.” I dived for the door, but Dusty
stopped me, trying to pull me back.
“Let me go, let me go, let me go!” I
screamed. My door burst open and Dusty
froze.
“What the hell do you think you’re
doing?!” Dusty let go of me and Renee
pulled me away from him. “I think you need
to get the fuck out of this house and I hope
the door hits you on the way out.”
“I’m so sorry… . I just…” Renee held me
and turned her body so she was between
me and Dusty.
“Get. The. Fuck. OUT.” He gave me one
last desperate look and pushed past us and
went up the stairs.
“Did he do anything to you?” Renee