NEVER GOODBYE (An Albany Boys Novel) (5 page)

“Okay, Starbucks, are you ready to spring for it. We need to make it over to the truck before the Cylons see us or the mission will be blown,” he says it like our lives depend on this one instruction and I know the reference. Starbucks is the heroine from a TV show.

“Are you using
Battlestar Galactica
anecdotes?” I ask grinning. I can’t stop grinning and it makes me grin harder.

He glances back over his shoulder and I have to pull back or his lips would have touched mine and I think, by the look in his eyes and the Johnny Depp smile, he knows it. “You know the show
Battlestar Galactica
?”

I don’t want to tell him about my mother yet. I only know the reference because my mother’s home plays re-runs of all the old shows. But I don’t tell him that and finally my grin subsides into a smile. “My mother liked it.”

He frowns and for a second I think he’s going to say something, but he turns his head back to the crowd of friends down his backyard and squeezes my hand. “Ready … set …”

“Go!” I say, targeting the truck and letting his hand slip from mine. I run for it with Vaun catching up fast, laughing that I took him by surprise. Why he parks his truck so far from the house is a wonder, but I run. It’s funny how you can’t run properly when you’re laughing too hard to breathe. I haven’t felt this kind of elation in so long I want to keep running. I want Vaun to chase me and hear our laughter bounce across the air like little kids who have no worries in the world.

Despite this I jump into his truck as he throws the supplies in the truck bed. His door opens wide before he leaps in behind the wheel and within seconds we are tearing across the property. Yes, across the property, away from the driveway. I’m breathless and he’s breathing heavily, but when I look at him I realize it’s not because he isn’t fit, it’s something raw between a male and female and it’s a little scary and thrilling all at the same time. He looks back out the windshield and heads through some trees with dust billowing like a ghost behind us. He slows right down and within a few minutes we have pulled up. He shuts the truck down and looks at me. And just like that, I can feel my heart change, beating to a different drum.

I lick my lips and take a steadying breath because, by God, sitting this close to him is making my body crazy. It’s all so insane and my mind is close behind.

“Don’t,” His hoarse voice brings goosebumps over my arms.

“What?” I ask as he closes his eyes and shakes his head.

“Don’t lick your lips and look all innocent, because all I want to do is kiss you and I promised you that you could trust me.”
Holy crap
, he wants to kiss me!

I swallow the huge lump that’s formed in my throat and reach out to touch his cheek when his eyes spring open. “Keep them closed.”

“Closed?”

“Closed.” I smile, because he actually does what he’s told. I love that he makes me smile. I love that he makes me feel something other than sorrow and grief. Slowly I lean across the wide bench seat, ignoring my screaming brain cells telling me to stop and I hover before his lips. Then, just before they meet his, I tilt my head and I kiss his cheek and feel his grin against my own. Yep, it’s official — I’m a big chicken, but I still loved every second of it.

He opens his eyes slowly, keeping the big grin I’ve brought to his face as he looks at my lips and then my eyes and for a moment I wish I had gone through with it.

“I know what that was going to be and yet, I wouldn’t want it any other way than what we shared just now,” he says softly, it was our first kiss and it left me complete. I’ve never felt that before.”

“Me neither.” And that’s the truth. I mean, I’m seventeen years old and I have kissed before, but this, this was innocent, sweet and beautiful and … yeah, complete.

He turns in his seat, his arm resting on the steering wheel. “I want to know everything there is to know about you, Harper Kennedy.”

My gut clenches a little. “I don’t want you to know everything.” I hate the look of hurt in his brown eyes, but I have protected everyone I can from this disease and right now, I can tell I care about Vaun. He’s a stranger who I feel I can trust with my very life. The copious instinct is beginning to shake me where it comes to trusting people since my diagnosis. Old friends I held dear and thought meant the world are now mere acquaintances, and estranged cousins and strangers are now my very best friends. More changes, but this time, changes for the better.

I beam and playfully slap him in the chest. “Besides, you seem to be getting the info on me without my help, just fine.”

He chuckles, his confusion and sadness veiled by instant playfulness. “Guilty as charged — I asked around.”

I like that he asked about me and did it before he come to my rescue with his father. I know this thing that’s between us isn’t some protective thing, or a mutual hatred for his father or even a pity thing. Okay … there might be a little protectiveness there; it seems to be his thing so I can’t begrudge him that. “And?”

“And you’re an enigma. Other than you have a brother and father and moved here just over a week ago, oh, and you’re related to April.”

“That’s it?”

“No.” His eyes draw in close on me, through me. I can feel it as it makes me giddy and I wonder what he’s thinking. “You’re a really good dancer, too.”

My mouth gapes open and I inhale deeply. How does he know I was a dancer? His hand reaches out and pushes the floating piece of hair the wind has taken a liking to and tucks it behind my ear. He looks guilty and it makes me nervous. I like it better when he looks free and happy. I’m sick of guilty.

“I take electronics. Mister Sawyer had me testing the lights for the school production and I can only do that properly when everyone’s gone home. I thought I was alone and apparently so did you.”

“You saw me dance?” I chew on my lip and he brushes it with his thumb, stopping me. “That means … you saw me … cry afterward.”

He nods. “Why?”

“
Why
?”

“Yeah.”

“Because I love it … because I can’t do it anymore.” The words are out of my mouth before I thought to stop them and I know it’s going to open a floodgate of questions.

“Tell me, tell me why you can’t do it anymore because I know it’s not from a physical sense. You were perfect.” Oh, how little he knows.

“I have a problem in my groin and thigh, it
is
a physical problem.”

He looks down at my thigh. My dress has gathered higher than nice girls should wear them, but hastily getting into his truck meant I wasn’t thinking about things like that and I tug on the hem a little. Then Vaun places his hand over my covered thigh, his skin burning through the material of my dress as though he doesn’t notice my lame attempts in covering.

“You strain or tear something?”

“No, but all the doctors say until I heal, I have to watch what I do and, for now, dancing is out.”

“So you can return to it, then?” The enthusiasm that expels from him is more than I thought possible and it breaks my heart some.

I haven’t heard anyone that enthusiastic about my health for weeks. There will come a time when he will find out, because there’s no hiding the fact that you have cancer once you start treatment. It’s going to hurt his spirit and I hate my gutless self for allowing him to have hope and for not warning him before he begins to invest feelings in me, but I like the feelings he brings for me and I want to keep them for just a little bit.

I don’t want to lie to him, but I don’t want him to know why the doctors told me I can’t dance anymore. Not yet. I want today. Pfft, I guess now that the sun is setting I want tonight with him; no illness or pity, just us and the idea of a future together. I want the teenage romance where you get to sit with your boyfriend during lunch and talk about the prom. I want tonight and then, in the morning, I’ll let him down gently because that’s the kindest thing to do for the both of us.

“Maybe,” I say, betraying my former words because I know the truth; I should have said ‘not likely’.

He squeezes my leg and smiles wryly. I hate that smile more than anything. I like the other one. “I’m so sorry. Don’t give up hope, though,” he says with the sadness I hate more.

I smile, even though I don’t mean it; I’ve become a pro at that smile.

“Don’t,” he frowns.

“What?” 
What now?
I frown back.

“Don’t do that. I don’t know what it is between us, but it deserves more than half-truths and fake smiles. Tonight I want to get to know you without all the bullshit.”

I smile and this time it’s a true smile because I want what he’s offering, even if it’s only for one night. “Okay. But Vaun, if you don’t want me to lie to you or give you half-truths we need to have some rules. You can ask me anything you want, but there are a few things I can’t talk about and I need you to understand and accept it.”

His brows rise and he seems to be considering it when he nods. “A pass.”

“A pass.”

“I like that,” he grins.

“Can I go first?” I’m suddenly excited to ask him questions, no holds barred.

He laughs and it makes my heart race. “Go for it.”

“You’ll tell the whole truth?”

“You’re making me nervous. Firstly, though―” he turns his stereo up which is playing Fighter by Gym Class
Heroes. I recognized them right away and am completely thrown for what I thought a boy in the country would have playing in his truck.

“What?” he says and I shake my head not wanting him to know I had just generalized him to a country hick or something. “You were thinking Kenny Rogers or something? We live in the country, not the past.”

I bite my lip and shrug. “I wasn’t thinking Kenny, more Garth Brooks.”

“Hey. There’s nothing wrong with Garth.”

I laugh and so does he. I feel better.

“Come on. Out you get,” he says shaking his head, chuckling. I jump from my side and meet him at the back of the truck. It’s not until then I see why this is his spot. We’re looking over his property and others. I can see fair across the entire town. The main street peppered with trees and rivers of tar road. City Hall stands out, as does our school and the church. This was a perfect place to deliberate life and what it holds for you when everything the town of Albany has to offer is below you, laid out beautifully under the sunset.

He drops the tail gate and moves a few gardening things before he throws the blanket out flat. The red stands out amongst the dark blue tray and the greenery of the trees.

“Up ya go,” he says all too cheerily. I know instantly why and gawk at him.

“You know I’m not going to be able to get up there without your help or without flashing you.”

“And the problem is?” he smirks, leaning against the tailgate.

I nod and restrain from laughing. I guess I played right into that one. After a quick deliberation, I realize having him help is way less embarrassing then having him see me struggle and heave myself up there and maybe flash him more skin then I’d like. So I brace my hands on the cool steel of the tailgate and look over my shoulder. “Okay, I’m ready.”

He claps his hands together and rubs them. “Me too.” And before I can say anything about his double meaning comment he has my hips and hauls me up so I’m on my knees and I’m pretty sure he has an eyeful of my butt. Clearly I didn’t think this through very well at all. Before I can recover he gives me a slap on the butt-cheek and chuckles as I give a squeal and fall to my side, glaring at him in mirth.

“
What
?”

“Serious?” I choke.

“Come on, I’m a male.”

“You’re something.”

He winks, places one hand on the tailgate and one on the side of the truck bed before he swings his leg up and he’s in. Easy and humiliatingly smooth compared to my ascending. I scoot to the back of the truck, smoothing out the soft red blanket and he joins me Lying back, patting the truck bed beside him. He looks so delicious, Lying back, one hand behind his head. He has the cheekiest smile; the kind which hints at his thoughts toward me. That look right now, makes my skin pucker like a plucked chicken.

I think I’m in trouble.

His black tee and blue jean-shorts contrast against the rich red of the throw that he pats beside him again. I smile a true smile I can’t hold back and, honestly, I don’t want to. He makes me really smile and I lie down and rest my head on his arm, looking up at the changing sky trying not to obviously smell him.

Yup. I’m in serious trouble.

“Go,” he says, ready for our game.

I turn to him, our faces inches from touching. At this rate my heart won’t hold up. Lying next to him, his warm, hard arm below my head was maddening. And then there were my hands; what do I do with my hands? I don’t know, so fold them over my stomach.

Concentrate, Harper. Concentrate. “What is the stupidest lie you ever told?”

He scrunches his face, it’s cute. “What a sucker-punch. I was right to be nervous; you went right in for the kill.”

“Only if it’s something bad,” I say, laughing.

“Uh-huh. Well you asked for it,” he grins, “I buy them for the articles.”

I gasp and burst with laughter. I instantly really, really like this game and he laughs too.

“My turn,” he says as he studies my face and I rein in my laughter and clear my throat, ready. “Can I tell the guys you’re off limits tomorrow?”

              I want to pass. No, I want to say yes. I want it so bad it itches. But this is the part where he deserves the truth before he gets the wrong idea of forever when forever isn’t in my future. I sigh, “No.”

              He rises on his elbow, pulling his arm free and hovers over me confused. It’s hard to breathe all of a sudden with the last of the sun’s shining rays of orange light through the canopy of trees before the sky opens up in the clearing. But none of that even sparks a light in me compared to the depth of his eyes which call to me.
He
is the reason my body responds. “Why? I know you feel it. I can see it makes you miserable to deny it.”

              “I won’t lie, you’re totally right. I feel it, I feel everything. I want it, but I can’t.”