Defending Taylor (Hundred Oaks #7) (18 page)

BOOK: Defending Taylor (Hundred Oaks #7)
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“You made us think you had a drug problem, Taylor. Do you know how much I’ve worried? Sometimes I don’t sleep. I call Mom and Dad every day to see how you are. To get the results of your goddamned pee tests. I considered coming home this semester to be with you because I was scared you were worse than you and Mom and Dad let on.”

Oh my God.
“I didn’t want to be a snitch.”

“I’d rather be a snitch than a liar.”

Touché.

“Oll, please, I’m sorry.”

Click.

My big brother hung up on me. I bury my phone deep in my bag and wipe away a tear.

And Ezra… He still hasn’t answered my texts or calls, and I’ve reached out to him so many times, I’m beginning to feel like a psycho. I decide to go over to his house after school. He’s told me he appreciates that I go after what I want, and to me, this situation is no exception.

When the final bell rings, I go to the bathroom to freshen up. My eyes are still puffy, still red, and still rimmed by dark circles. I splash my face with water and straighten my ponytail.

I drive to Ezra’s apartment. When I get there, I can’t hold it in anymore—it’s been such a long day that I start choking back sobs. His apartment lights appear blurry through my tears. Like watching a rainstorm through foggy windows.

I climb the four flights of stairs and knock on the door. His curtains shift a little, and I see him peeking out. For a heartbreaking moment, I think he’s not going to answer the door, but then it slowly swings open.

He’s barefoot, and his hair is wet, as if he just got out of the shower, and he’s wearing a black T-shirt and jeans. His bloodshot eyes don’t look much better than mine. He ushers me inside to stand in his living room. He stares at the floor with his arms crossed.

“Ezra,” I start softly. “Can you ever forgive me?”

He looks up in surprise but says nothing. He chews on his lip, and I’m terrified this is it. He’s going to break up with me, end our friendship.

Then he slowly pulls me against him, kissing the scar on my forehead. “Of course I can.” He talks into my hair. “But I’m still really mad at you.”

“I know.” I gasp with relief, and my legs feel like they might give out. Ezra holds me up, helping me to stand.

“What you did for Ben…you will never,
ever
do anything like that for me, understand? If I’ve learned anything in the past two years, it’s that a man takes care of his own mistakes. He owns up. Got it?”

“Got it.”

We hug each other, and I sink my fingers in his wet hair, inhaling his scent of lemon soap. He places a warm hand on my lower back beneath my shirt, tracing circles with his thumb.

“You didn’t think I’d forgive you?” he whispers.

“You left so abruptly, and you said you needed time. I didn’t know what that meant.”

“I’m sorry.” His big hands sweep over my back. “I needed to process this. I still do.”

My eyes start watering all over again. “You scared me.”

“I just hope you know that whatever happens between us or outside of our relationship, we can work it out. Okay?”

“I love you,” I blurt, not caring whether it’s too soon to say it and whether he’ll say it back. It doesn’t matter. “I love you so much.”

I’m speaking into his chest, so I can’t see his reaction, but his arms around me grow tense. I hold my breath.

His hands weave through my hair. “I love you too, Tease.”

I relax against his chest and gaze up at him. “Thank you for forgiving me.”

“Always.” A mischievous smirk takes over his face. “Now are we gonna make up or what?”

I playfully shove his chest. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Everyone knows the best part of fighting is making up afterward. I want to make up with you every day from here on out.”

His fingertips slide up and down my spine, spreading shivers over my skin. His lips are wanting as they devour mine in a kiss. He cradles my neck in his hand and presses his body to mine, leaving no space between us. He edges me toward his bedroom. He lifts me into his arms, pinning me to the wall, kissing me. I didn’t know he was this strong. I grasp his biceps.

“I changed my mind. Never stop doing manual labor.”

He smiles against my lips.

Lowering my feet to the floor, he guides me to the bed. I climb onto his navy-blue quilt. Eyes blazing, he yanks his T-shirt over his head and joins me. He straddles my waist, burying his face in my neck. His warm skin feels smooth against mine. He lifts my sweater off.

I’m not sure when he loses his jeans or when I lose mine, but all our clothes wind up on the floor. Up until now, we’ve never been completely naked together, and I’m a little scared—like that first time you jump off a high dive into the water. But I know the fall will be so much fun.

He takes in every bit of me. And then he presses his hot mouth against my core. I tangle my fingers in his hair until I can’t wait any longer. I need him.
All of him.

Subconsciously, I guess I had been waiting to take our relationship to this level until there were no secrets between us, because now I have no hesitations whatsoever.

“Do you have protection?” I whisper, and he nods, reaching into the drawer of his nightstand to get a condom.

“You’re sure?” he asks.

“Please.”

He hesitates, looking away for a moment, then his green eyes rejoin mine. “I’m not your first, right?”

“No,” I whisper.

“I should’ve been.”

“Make it up to me now.”

“Bossy.” He grins and wraps my legs around his waist, and we finish what we started years ago.

• • •

When we finished showing how much we love each other, Ezra passed out.

Passed out.

I grin to myself.

Knowing I wore him out does great things for my ego, but I want to cuddle. I wake him up with a long, soft kiss and lean on an elbow, staring down at him as a smile appears on his face.

“That was nice,” he says.

“That was verrry nice.”

He groans with a laugh. “If Oliver ever finds out, he’s going to fuck me up.”

“You’re damn right he will. Unless you agree to do tequila shots and go dancing with him. Then everything’ll be just fine,” I tease.

We grin at each other, intertwining our fingers.

“I’ve wanted to do that with you for a long time,” he whispers, weaving his other hand through my hair.

“How long?”

He grins. “Since the summer before senior year. I was at your house swimming in the pool with Oliver, and you were sitting on the side reading a magazine.”


Seventeen
. I was getting advice on how to talk to guys so I would have something to say to you.” I nudge him with my elbow. “I remember you checking me out.”

“Yeah, Oliver noticed too. He said, ‘Stop staring at my sister, dipshit.’”

“So you liked what you saw?”

His eyes flick over my body. “I liked your little bikini. The red one with polka dots.”

I punch him in the arm. “You did a cannonball and soaked me. Asshole!”

“I was trying to get your attention.”

“You were?”

“Constantly.”

I smile, cuddle closer to him, and yawn, finding that he wore me out too.

We nap together for a bit, and when I wake up, it’s completely dark outside. I look over at the red glowing numbers on the alarm clock. It’s seven. Mom and Dad are probably wondering where I am.

I am not ready to face them, but my early decision application for Yale is due tomorrow.

I have to go home to press Send.

• • •

It’s five minutes to midnight.

I’m staring at the blinding white of my laptop screen.

Applications are due tomorrow. Friday, November 1.

My pristine application, which I’ve double- and triple-checked a hundred times, is ready to be submitted.

My dad expects me to apply.

So does Mom.

And Oliver.

I let out a sob. None of them are talking to me after what happened with Ben.

What do I expect of myself?

I have no clue.

I’ve never felt so lost, but the more I think about it, I wonder if I’ve ever actually
found
myself to begin with.

Maybe I’ve always been lost.

Coming Clean

Three days before the election, I bundle into a warm down jacket, boots, and jeans, and drive out to Cedar Hill Farms.

After remembering how Ezra said Jack Goodwin went against his family’s expectations and everything turned out okay, I sent him a text, asking to meet.

When I pull into the circular driveway in front of the mansion, Jack is standing on the front porch with his hands stuffed in the front pockets of his jeans. He’s wearing a red plaid shirt, dirty work boots, and a cowboy hat. He must’ve had a busy day with the horses.

As I’m shutting off my car, Jack, ever the gentleman, jogs down the steps and opens my door for me.

“Tee, hey. Come on in.”

He leads me inside to a creamy white parlor with windows overlooking one of the paddocks, where a mare and her foal stand grazing. A tea service is set up next to the fireplace. My parents have money, but the Goodwins have serious cash. Cedar Hill isn’t just a mansion; it’s an estate. Accordingly, they have servants out the wazoo.

Jack takes off his cowboy hat, then fusses with a china coffeepot decorated with a rose design. “You want a coffee or anything?”

“Uh,
yeah
.”

“I figured you might. When Jenna and I were dating, she always complained that your mother hated coffee.”

“One of the very few topics Jenna and I agree on.”

Jack and I fix ourselves coffees and grab a couple of brownies, then sit down in armchairs next to the window.

“So what’d you want to talk about?” he asks, chewing.

“Savannah.”

He sets his cup and saucer on the coffee table. With a cautious expression, he asks, “What about her?”

“Was it hard when you started dating her? Like, were your parents mad?”

He nods. “Oh yeah. They didn’t want me fooling around with a member of our staff. It took me a while to convince them I was serious about Savannah.” He pauses and picks up his coffee cup again. “It also took me a while to realize
I
was serious about her.”

“But it’s been worth it?”

He smiles. “Yeah, of course. I mean, we’ve been dating almost two years, and we still can’t keep our hands to ourselves.”

“TMI.”

He laughs, but the mood turns solemn again. “Why are you asking about this? Is it something to do with Ezra? I heard you’re dating.”

“We’re dating, yeah, but that’s not why I’m asking.” I sip my coffee. “I just…how did you go up against your parents like that? How did you get the courage?”

“It wasn’t easy. I had to lay it all out there. I had to tell them it didn’t matter what they thought, that I was going to date Savannah.”

“Were you scared to talk to your parents?”

“I was so scared, I didn’t speak up for weeks, and I nearly lost Savannah in the process. I hesitated about going public with our relationship, and she wouldn’t put up with that.” He smiles, looking out the window, as if lost in a memory. Then he shakes his head. “Tell me what’s up, Tee. Why are you asking about this?”

“I’ve been thinking about my future. Everyone in my family went to Ivy League schools, and Oliver and Jenna are going to work at the firm. I’m not sure what I want to do with my life, but I’m pretty sure I don’t want to do that.” I take a deep breath. “The application for Yale’s early decision was due yesterday, and I didn’t turn mine in… I don’t know how my parents will react when I tell them.”

“They’re good people. I think you could be upfront with them.”

“Even after all the trouble I’ve caused with my father’s campaign?”

He sips from his coffee cup, thinking. “Last winter, my mom had lunch with the governor’s wife. All Mrs. Harrington wanted to talk about was how I was dating one of our jockeys and how
odd
that was.” I expect to hear anger in Jack’s voice, but it’s calm. “By the time summer rolled around, Mrs. Harrington couldn’t wait to meet Savannah and introduce her to her daughters. She thought Savannah would be a good role model for feminism or something.” Jack smiles at that.

“So Mrs. Harrington got over it?”

“Some people just don’t like change, and it takes time for them to accept it. They’ve gotten used to me dating Savannah. After a while, no one cared anymore. At least not the people who really matter, like my mom and dad. They came to understand how much I love Savannah.”

I think of Ezra. Will people get used to him doing construction instead of joining the family business? Will they grow to accept it? I certainly have, because it makes him happy. Even though I wish he’d reconsider, I respect his wishes.

“Your advice is to just come clean? Let my family know I’m a big ole mess and have no direction?”

Jack smiles. “Yeah, and the sooner the better. Then you can start figuring out what you want to do instead of worrying about what your parents will say and pretending everything is fine. Just come clean.”

• • •

Jack walks me out to my car and opens the door for me.

He gives me a quick hug. “Let me know how it goes, okay?”

“Will do.” I slide into the driver’s seat, and he shuts the door. I wave good-bye to him as he heads toward the pasture to help round up the horses; the sun is beginning to set into a haze of gold and purple. After talking with Jack, I’m still scared to veer from the path I’ve been on for years, but the desire to take control of my life outweighs that fear.

First things first: I send Dad a text.
I really need to see you. Can we please talk?

Then I turn the key, start my engine, and drive home. Once I’m in my driveway, I check my phone and see I have a bunch of missed calls from Dad. He didn’t leave a voice mail, but he did send a text.

Can you please come home? I’m here.

I take a deep, quivering breath and clutch my phone in my hands, relieved that Dad wants to talk to me. For him to go two days without speaking to me just about broke my heart.

With three days until the election, I’m surprised Dad’s at home this evening. When I arrive in his study, the door is open, and he’s sitting in his armchair by the fire, nursing a scotch.

“Dad?”

He waves for me to enter and gestures at the couch for me to sit down. After a moment, Dad joins me, bringing his drink with him.

“This must’ve been a rough couple months, huh?” he asks.

“The worst.” A few tears leak out. “I worried you weren’t going to talk to me again.”

He pulls me into a hug. “I’m sorry. Your mom and I needed time to think about what you did. All of this is so unlike you, Tee.”

“I know…”

“Why did you cover for Ben?”

“His parents don’t have a lot of money, and going to St. Andrew’s was his big chance.”

“If he hadn’t been your boyfriend, would you have covered for him?” Dad asks.

I carefully consider the question. “I think I would’ve tried to help any of my friends. But I didn’t think it would get so out of control… I know now that I should have told the truth from the start. I’m so sorry about your campaign, Dad. So sorry. I wanted to come forward and tell you what happened, but I thought it would just make the situation worse.”

“Your instincts are right. It’s too late to do anything about the election now. Any statement we put out will look like a last-ditch effort to win back voters.”

I nod, continuing to cry, and Dad pats my back.

“I know I shouldn’t start our conversation this way,” I say, “but I have to, because I need to get this off my chest. I’m really upset with you, Dad.”

He goes still.

“I’ve been killing myself at school for years. And it’s like the minute I made one mistake, you were so ashamed, you didn’t want to be seen with me anymore. You never once asked me to join you at a campaign event, and that made me feel like I wasn’t part of the family—like you weren’t proud of me. I’m really sorry for what I did, but it was even worse knowing that you and Mom were so pissed you didn’t want me by your sides anymore.”

His eyes never leave mine as I pour out my soul.

“I make great grades all the time, and my SAT score was almost perfect, even though math is hard for me. I was exhausted all the time because I took on so many activities, and you didn’t even mention my hard work in your campaign commercial! In it, you were so proud of Jenna and Oliver, but it was as if I didn’t exist. That hurt so bad, Dad.” My voice is high pitched and shaky. He reaches over and squeezes my shoulder.

I pull a deep breath. “I didn’t send in my Yale application.”

Dad’s eyes widen. “You didn’t?”

“I wasn’t sure why I should, other than that it was expected of me. I don’t even know what I want to do with my life.”

“You have to start somewhere. Why not Yale? It’s a good liberal arts school. Besides, I thought you wanted to be an analyst at your grandfather’s firm.”

“I only said that because that’s what I thought I was supposed to do. But, Dad, I don’t have any interest in investing. I don’t even like math.”

He pauses at the bombshell I just dropped. “Well, what do you like?”

“Museums, soccer, animals, coffee. Ezra.”

The corner of Dad’s mouth lifts into a small smile. “Well, you absolutely cannot major in Ezra Carmichael. I forbid it.”

I chuckle at his joke. “But what about the rest?”

“Tee, the reason I’ve always pushed you so hard is so you’ll have options.”

“I hate staying up so late to study. I feel like it’s all I do. And I’m worried if I go to Yale, it would be more of the same. I’m not lazy…I’m just…tired.”

For a moment, I wonder if I should copy Chloe and take a year off between high school and college, but that doesn’t feel right for me. I need to do
something
.

“Shouldn’t I have some idea of what I want to do before you spend all that money on college?” I ask.

“Honestly, Tee, you’ve got time to figure that out. Some days, I’m not sure what I want to do either, and I’m sixty years old. But I’m not sorry I’ve pushed you. You are so smart and so wonderful, and I want you to have all the options in the world.”

My eyes water at his words.

I get what he’s saying. But at the same time, I’ve been pushing myself so hard for so long that I resorted to pills to make it through. I never get eight hours of sleep. Is getting into the best school really worth it? I don’t know. I really don’t.

My eye twitches. I rush to cover it up with my hand.

“You should get some rest,” Dad says, squeezing my shoulder. “Take a nap before dinner.”

“Dad? If I didn’t go to Yale, would you hate me?”

“Of course not. I’ll always love you. But I’d want to know what you’d plan to do instead.”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure other colleges would take me with my grades and test scores.” I puff out my chest in an imitation of Dad. “I’m so smart and so wonderful, and I will have all the options in the world.”

He throws his head back to laugh. “Would you stop teasing me already?”

I give him a hug. “One of the good parts of being at Hundred Oaks is getting to be at home. I’m glad we’re spending more time together, Dad.”

My father gives me a sad smile. “Me too, Tee.”

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