The Love Series Complete Box Set (98 page)

I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything. I just give him some room to breathe and think.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and looks over at me. “By some stroke of luck, the judge decided that he would give my mom one last chance if she went to rehab and got herself cleaned up. I drove down there to get her this past weekend.” He sighs loudly trying to gain his composure. “So while she’s away, Emmie is living with me. Hopefully it’s just for the summer.”

“Bryan, I’m so . . .”

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. I don’t want anyone’s pity.” His harsh words cut through me worse than any knife would.

Twisting my fingers together nervously, I recover my thoughts and try for something a bit more hopeful. “Emmie seems to be doing well, though. I mean she was really happy at camp.” I offer up a smile, but it goes unnoticed. “Where is she now?”

“She’s asleep. My neighbor is watching her,” he answers tersely. After a deep breath, he adds, “She’s doing better now that she’s not at home. But then seeing you . . .” The pained look on his face breaks my heart.

I want to believe that it’s not his intention to hurt me, but that belief is fading—quickly. “That’s why I tried to call. I just wanted to see what you told Emmie so that I don’t say anything to upset her.”

With his penetrating stare searing through my soul, I feel vulnerable, but for the first time in a long time, I feel alive. I feel renewed, like maybe there’s a chance that he’s seeing this new Melanie. Maybe he’s seeing how different I am. He always saw the version of me that I wanted to see myself as, so maybe, just maybe, he’s seeing the new me. But, when he looks away, I lose hope in that theory.

“I told her that we’re just friends now. She asked if we were divorced like Mom and Dad.” Well, damn. There goes
that
hope. I want to ask if he meant what he said when he told me that he missed me. I want to wrap my arms around him and take away his pain. I want to curl up against his side and fall asleep in his arms.

But this isn’t about what I want.

“So if she asks about us, just tell her that we’re friends. And if she says anything about my parents, tell her that they are trying to be friends too. She understands that. It’ll just make it easier on her.” His voice is resolved and guarded.

“I can do that. I do want to be friends, Bryan. I know I hurt you, but . . .”

He cuts me off again. “I don’t know if I can be just friends with you.”

Does that mean he wants to be more?

In a moment of bravery, I decide to share my feelings. Twisting toward him and grabbing his hand, he shoots me a shocked look at the contact. “Look, Bryan. I don’t
want
to be friends. I meant what I said on Friday when I told you that I miss you. I
want
to be like we used to be . . . no, wait . . . what I mean is that I want to be
more
than we used to. I’m different, now. I never . . .”

Just as the words “I never cheated.” are on the tip of my tongue, he stands abruptly and bellows a frustrated scream out into the darkness.

He turns toward me once more, his voice a smidge lower than a yell. “I loved you! I loved you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. And it meant nothing to you.
We
meant nothing to you.” On a growl, he turns away from me once again and stares up at the twinkling stars. “Fuck, Melanie. I needed you. These last few months . . .” His words get stuck behind the emotion he’s working so hard to stifle.

Unable to see him in this much anguish any longer, I stand next to him, but don’t touch him. “I can be here for you now. If you’ll let me, I can be your friend and then maybe . . .”

The rest of my sentence is swallowed whole by his kiss. His lips are on mine hot and fast. With one hand tangling in my hair, and another gripping hard at my waist, he pulls our bodies together. The feel of his hard muscles pressed up against my soft curves is more than perfect, more than heavenly. It’s a hard and passionate kiss, one that is sure to leave my lips swollen. His tongue licks and dips into the corners of my mouth, tasting me—no, devouring me. I inhale his sweet cinnamon breath—breathe it into my lungs, make it part of my existence.

Sucking hard on my lower lip, he pulls it into his mouth. He absorbs the groan of pleasure that I make when he bites on my captured lip. My arms wrap around his neck and tangle into his soft hair. Just as I’m about to pull him closer to me, he pulls away, leaving me breathless.

With our foreheads pressed together, he whispers, “Maybe what, Melanie?”

“Maybe we could . . .” I get distracted by his nose running up the length of mine.

“Yeah, maybe,” he states calmly with a hooded and lustful look on his face.

And then he walks away from me, confidently strutting toward his car—leaving me speechless, hopeful and completely confused at the same time.

Since I don’t have to walk to camp anymore, I can sleep in another thirty minutes. Which of course means that I oversleep. Jumping from bed, I call Will right away and let him know that I’ll be a few minutes late. He laughs at my harried and frantic voice, but tells me that it’s okay.

“Do you want me to come pick you up?” I’m sure that his offer has more to do with getting to talk to me alone than it does with getting me to work quickly.

“No, it’s okay really. My mom bought me a car this weekend. I’ll be there in like ten minutes.” I hang up quickly and thank the OCD lords that I’ve laid out my clothes and packed my lunch the night before.

I would have liked to get to camp early today too. I never got the chance to tell Bryan about Tyler and what
did not
happen between us. Oh well, I’ll just have to tell him today when he picks up Emmie.

I pull into the parking lot and race over to the arts and crafts room. The kids start out every Monday morning drawing pictures of what they did over the weekend. I find Emmie immediately and when I catch a glimpse of her picture, I am blown away.

“Wow, Emmie! Did you draw that?” I lean over her shoulder and instantly recognize what she’s drawn. It’s a picture of the gorge that Bryan and I went hiking through on our first date. I’ll never forget the beauty of that place for as long as I live.

“I did,” she says proudly. Emmie smiles at me and it’s as beautiful as the stars I saw in the sky last night. “Bryan took me there this weekend.” Emmie returns her attention to her picture where she carefully writes a title in bold capital letters across the top. “Happy Times Waterfall.” She then adds “To: Melanie” at the top and “Love: Emmie” at the bottom before handing me her work of art.

“Thank you so much, sweetie. Are you sure I can have it?” Emmie nods excitedly, and I know that not accepting it is not an option. Holding it before me, I examine it once more; it really is a beautiful drawing. I can tell that art is her thing. “That’s a really cute title, Emmie. How’d you come up with that?”

“That’s what it’s called, silly,” she quips with as much sarcasm as any thirteen-year-old girl is supposed to have.

I poke her in the arm. “No,
silly.
It’s called Hemlock Gorge.”

“You can call it whatever you want. But when I asked Bryan, he said something about happy times. I like Happy Times better than Hemlock or whatever you called it.”

Clutching the paper to my chest, this crayon scribbled picture from a teenage girl has now become one of my most precious possessions.

I feel like I’m walking on clouds the rest of the day. Knowing that Bryan took Emmie where he was happy with me makes me even more hopeful. The day passes by in a blur and my stomach is in knots as I wait in the parking lot for Bryan to pick up Emmie. She’s running around in the small field to the side of the parking lot with a few of her friends and another counselor. I’m lost in my daydreams of the maybes that Bryan and I spoke about last night, so when Will sits down next to me, I’m momentarily startled.

“Hey, how was your weekend?” He sees me jump slightly and laughs.

“Good. It was great to see my mom.” I might be speaking to him, but I’m preoccupied with scanning the lot for Bryan’s car.

“And you got a car out of it too, huh? That’s a pretty sweet deal.” He grins at me as he points to my car parked next to his.

“Yeah, it was a total surprise. I love it though.”

Standing before me, he holds out his hand. “Come show me.” He doesn’t ask so I can’t really say no.

“I can’t. These kids are . . .”

Will waves over to Samantha, the other counselor and she waves back at us. “The kids are what? They’re fine. Samantha is out there. I want to see your new ride.” I give in, but stand on my own—without taking his hand.

When we’re over to my car, I stand by the driver’s door as he peers into the window. “Well, here it is. Not much to it. Four doors, a few tires and a steering wheel.” I think he can tell that I’m trying to avoid him. I’ve been doing it all day.

Without saying anything, he leans up against the car and smiles at me seductively. “So, about Friday. Are you free?” That was his ploy the whole time. He wasn’t really interested in my car. He just wanted to get me far enough away from the kids so that he could talk to me privately.

Nervousness sets in. Bryan should be here any minute and this is the last thing he needs to see—me pressed up against a car while Will is trying to get me to go out with him. “Look, Will. I like you, but only as a friend.”

“Okay, so we’ll go out as
friends.
” He’s not getting it. The truth is that if it wasn’t for Bryan, I would be more tempted to give in. Will’s attractive and funny. At only twenty-two years old, he’s still well within my acceptable dating age.

“Thanks, Will, but I’m still going to have to say no.” Without missing a beat, he reaches for the strand of hair that just fell from behind me ear. After he sweeps it back in place, he lightly traces his thumb down my cheekbone. “Are you sure about that?” he asks softly.

“I’m flattered, Will. Really, I am. I just can’t.” I pull his hand away from my face and he takes that opportunity to bring my knuckles to his lips.

Grazing over them lightly, he mumbles against my skin, “Can’t or won’t?” His eyes are pleading with me to give in.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Searching for some kind of strength, I huff out a frustrated sigh. “No, Will. I won’t. Thank you but really, we’re just friends.” Before I can even push his hand away from mine, I hear the gravel crunch under someone’s approaching footsteps.

“Just friends, huh?” Bryan’s angry voice quietly rumbles from behind Will’s back. Throwing his hands up in the air, Bryan mumbles, “Fuck this!” as he stalks away.

Running after him, I call out, “No! Wait, Bryan! Wait!” He turns on his heel so quickly that I nearly collide into his hard chest. “What, Melanie?” There’s pain in his eyes and I can see the fight leave his body as his shoulders sag.

“I can explain.” The lame words die in the air between us.

“There’s nothing to fucking explain. You’re apparently
just friends
with him too,” he seethes, but doesn’t yell as he recalls our talk from the night before. Scrubbing his hands over his face and through his hair in restrained anger, he leans down so that only I can hear him. “Just when I thought I could trust you . . . when I thought I could possibly let you in again . . . you go and fuck me over . . . make me look like a fool. I- I’m done, Melanie. I just can’t . . .” There’s so much pain and anguish in his voice. The last of his words are muffled almost painfully as he walks away from me. He sounds as if he’s about to cry and part of me wishes that he would. I deserve his anger—his yelling and cursing. But instead, I get restrained anger and seething pain.

Standing there numbly and near tears, I watch as Emmie runs over to Bryan. He helps her get into the car and he pulls away from me.

But this time, I feel like it’s really for the last time.

Chapter 16

November 2013

It hasn’t been easy, but I’ve finally let go of the idea that Bryan and I will ever get back together. No matter how many times I tried to talk to him over the summer, whether it was calling him or waiting for him to get Emmie at camp, he always avoided me. He wasn’t rude or mean. Keeping up the appearance of being friends for Emmie’s sake, he was usually cordial. As nice as his attempts at civility might have been, I could always sense his anger and hurt bubbling just beneath the surface.