Escaping Me (20 page)

“
We might be,” my mom says.  “But at least we are fucked up together.”  I walk over to where she and Mallory are sitting and squeeze them tight.

“
As much as I want to sit here and talk about the insanity that is our lives, I think I need to go see Cole,” I tell them as we hug.  “Maybe I can get him to forgive me for letting him run off.”

“
Maybe you could start by telling him that you love him,” Mallory offers.

“
Maybe,” I reply, walking toward the door. 
If only it were that easy. 
“Give me a ride?”

Chapter 22 – Cole

As soon as I am in my truck, I punch the steering wheel.  Doesn’t make me feel any better, but I do it nonetheless.  I don't know why I am so surprised that Whitney reacted the way she did.  I knew sooner or later she was going to realize that we aren’t meant to be together.  It is my own stupid fault for actually thinking there was a chance it would work out between us.  I would give anything to have never left my house with her.  When we were there—just the two of us—none of the other bullshit got in the way, like her dickhead of a father or her shit-stirring ex-boyfriend.

I guess Whitney's promise of “always” being there for me depended on the circumstances.  I felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest as she sat silently not saying a word to her father.  I am used to people judging me the way he did, but when she looked up at me, still not speaking, it hurt. 
Real fucking bad.

When I make it back to my place, I am instantly reminded of her.  As soon as I walk in the house and see her flip-flops lying by the door, I rethink my decision to not just head straight to Pauly's.  I nursed a beer the entire way home and not even the alcohol is making me feel better tonight.  I pick up her flip-flops and fling them out the front door.  After flying through the air with my frustration fueling them, they land out in the middle of driveway.  I nod.  It helped a little.  How is it possible to love someone so much and be so fucking mad at them that you want to throw shit?  This is exactly why I didn't want to waste my time with a relationship.  I slam the door behind me and grab another beer.

I pace around my living room, replaying the night over and over again in my head.

“
Son of a bitch,” I hiss under my breath. 
Who in the fuck does her dad think he is?

I wish I wouldn't have been blindsided by his appearance.  If I would have known he was going to show up I would have at least had a better defense for myself lined up.  Instead, I said something stupid about trying to prove I was worthy of her. 
I'm such an idiot. 

And why the fuck did I just run out of there like I was intimidated by him?  Now he thinks he’s won when the real reason I left was because I didn't want to see Whitney acting the way she was—like a scared little girl.  If I would have stuck around I probably would have knocked her dad out and that wouldn't have shined any positive lights on me.  It was just so frustrating to see her sit there, holding all of her emotions in, when I know she is stronger than she gives herself credit for.  I wanted to grab her shoulders and shake her out of it.

I was really trying not to be hard on her.  I know what it is like to grow up a certain way and then all of the sudden try to change the things about yourself that you don't like.  It isn't something that happens instantaneously.

A quiet rap on the door stirs me from my disappointment.  I bring the bottle to my lips one more time before I grab the doorknob.  There she is, standing there quietly and looking up at me with the flip-flops she retrieved from the driveway.  Her pretty blue eyes are still a little red—she has obviously been crying. 
Well, now I feel worse.

I wait for her to speak, fighting back the urge to wrap my arms around her in comfort.  I am still pissed about the way things went down, and the last thing I want is for her to think it is okay that she didn't speak up against her father.  I didn't need her to defend me, but damn it, she needed to defend herself.

“Well, dinner didn't go exactly as planned.” She lets her lips curl up into a smile, hoping I will return the sentiment.  I cross my arms over my chest, not letting her get to me.  When she sees that it is going to take more than that to get back in my good graces, she starts talking.  “My dad caught me off guard, okay?  I wasn't expecting to see him and I didn't know how to react to the situation.”  She is starting to squirm. “Would you say something?”  When I don't, I can see the tears threatening to fall from her eyes.  She is waiting for a reaction, the same way I waited for her to say something earlier.  I know she is the kind of girl that is used to getting her way, and not giving her anything is killing her.  I can see her wheels turning—she is waiting for me to end things or tell her to get lost.  “Do you want me to get the rest of my stuff?”  she finally asks.  “I can go if you want me to.”

“
I'm sorry,” I blurt out.  I made her sweat it out long enough and I definitely don't like the idea of her leaving.   She stares up at me with a confused look on her face.  I point to the shoes in her hand.  “I shouldn't have thrown those out in the yard.”

“
I deserved it.” She shakes her head.  “I'm the one who owes you an apology.”  I take in a deep breath and try not to let her see that I’ve already forgiven her.  It doesn't mean that I’m not pissed off that she let her father control her the way he did.  I nod my head and open the door, inviting her in.  As she walks by me, she takes the beer from my hand and finishes off its contents.

“
I am so sorry that I didn't tell my dad to shut the hell up,” she starts.  “I don't know what it is, but whenever he's around, I can never seem to find the right words to tell him what I'm thinking.”  She tosses the shoes on the floor—in their rightful place by the door—and sets her empty bottle on the end table.

“
Tell me,” I interject as she nervously fidgets with the hem of shirt.  She looks up at me with wide eyes.

“
What?”

I walk over to her and take her hands in mine.

“Tell me how you feel.”  I say a little louder as I close the distance between us.

“
I... I.... um...” The color flushes from her face and I can tell she is nervous.

“
I need you to tell me how you feel, Whit.  I need to know that the way I feel about you isn't one-sided and that you don’t actually agree with what your father said.  I need you to tell me that I'm not crazy for being in love with you, and that despite the way you acted in front of him, you feel the same way.”  I pull my hands from hers and cradle her face in my palms.  “I can forgive the fact that you don't know what to say to your father, but I need you to admit what you're feeling to me.”

A tear falls from the corner of her eyes, and I quickly brush it away with my thumb.  I can see she is having a hard time, but when she finally starts to talk, and another tear falls from her eyes, I know she is ready to open up to me.

“I love you,” she says with a smile.  “I love you so much that it scares me.”  I feel relief wash over me and I press my lips to hers.  “I'm not good at telling people how I feel.  I just don't want to lose you.”

“
You're not going to.” I kiss her again.  She takes my hand in hers and brings me over to the couch.  Once we are sitting, she wipes the tears from her eyes, and I can tell she feels like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders.  I know I do.

“
I really wanted to tell my dad that he was wrong about you.  About us.  Things with him are just complicated,” she confesses.  “I hope you know that I don't care about any of the things he said.  I don't care where you live or what you do.  I just want to be with you.”

“
I know that,” I reply.  “I shouldn't have second guessed myself, but the way you acted tonight isn't the girl I know,” I explain.  “Up until your dad's arrival, you haven't had much of a problem being yourself.  I hated seeing the way he made you feel.”

“
That's the thing though.  How I've acted this summer is not how I used to be.  The girl you saw tonight is the girl I've been trying to escape.  She's weak and afraid of what she feels.  When I'm with you, I don't feel like I have to impress anyone or say the right thing.  I just get to be the person I want to be.”

“
Promise me that the next time you see your dad you're going to tell him how you feel,” I tell her.  “Not necessarily about me, but about yourself.  He needs to hear it from you that you don't want the life he has planned for you.  As long as you let him think it's okay to treat you like a child, he will.”

“
I promise,” she agrees.  “I'm so sorry—again.”

“
So am I,” I say.  “I shouldn't have bolted.”

“
I don't blame you for leaving.  I would have been here sooner, but you have no idea what kind of drama came out after you left.”  She leans in and presses her lips against mine.  “I'll fill you in later.”  Her kisses continue.  “Right now, I really just want to be with you.”

“
I mean, that only seems right, seeing as how you love me and all,” I tease as I pull her onto my lap.  It feels good to have everything out in the open now.  Zeke was right.  I would have regretted not telling her that I love her. 

She giggles as my lips find her neck.  I slip her shirt over her head, leaving her in the little white tank top she is wearing underneath it, and quickly return my mouth to hers.  She breaks her lips from mine and slides down between my legs, placing her knees on the floor.  She looks up at me as she reaches for the button of my jeans, and I know she isn't down there to pray.  “You don't have to...”

I trail off when I see her shake her head and smile. “New experiences, right?”

I shift in my seat as she works my jeans down enough to reveal what she is looking for.  She wraps her fingers around my length and brushes her tongue across the tip before taking it between her lips.  She strokes her hand up and down slowly as she experiments with her mouth.

“Am I doing this right?” She looks up at me with innocent eyes that almost make me feel bad for letting her do this to me.  But when I nod and she goes back to it, I can tell she isn't as innocent as she may look.  Maybe she's never actually performed this particular deed before, but she's definitely thought about it.  She's thought about how she is going to trail her tongue down one side and up the other before taking it in her mouth—damn near all the way.  She's thought about how I am going to be squirming in my seat when she squeezes her fingers around the base of me and lightly nips at my most sensitive part.  I thrust against her hand as she catches the first indication of her knowing exactly what she is doing with her tongue.

“
Come here.” I pull her back up to my lap and wrap her legs around my waist as I stand.  With one hand tucked underneath her ass and the other holding on to the jeans that are barely hanging around my waist, I carry her to the bedroom.

* * *

“Let me just say that you, lying there right now…” I say, pointing to Whitney, who is wrapped in a sheet and a smile, still wearing the sleepy grin I left her with when I went to grab us something to drink from the kitchen.  “Well, it's just about the sexiest thing I've ever seen.”

“
You flatter me,” she giggles, taking a bottle of water from my hand.

“
I'm so glad you came back last night,” I admit as I adjust the pillows against the headboard and sit down next to her.  “I wasn't sure if I'd see you again after everything that happened with your dad.”  After a round of incredible make-it-up-to-you sex, she filled me in on all the drama with her family.  Apparently, Mallory is her half-sister, her mother was the catalyst in the big divorce, and Whitney expects me to be her plus-one at some fundraiser for her stepmother early next month.  I let all of the information soak in until we both fell asleep.  When I woke up this morning and found her curled up beside me, I peppered her neck with kisses until she stirred awake.  As much as I want to ignore that fact that our days together are quickly drifting away, I decide that she has enough to deal with at the moment.  What I really want to tell her is that I want every day to begin exactly the same way.

“
It's going to take more than a pissed off Daddy to keep me away from you.”  She smiles as she sits up and scoots over to tuck herself to my side.  “I should have told him that, too,” she adds.  Just as I am about to press my lips to hers and pick up what where we left off, the hum of her cell phone vibrating on the nightstand steals our attention. 

I groan as I reach over to grab it.  Any other time I would have just let the damn thing ring, but after everything that happened last night, I figure it is Mallory or Leanne wanting to check up on her.  I glance at the screen as I hand it to Whitney. 
DAD
is flashing in the center of the screen.

“
Looks like you're going to get another chance to tell your dad what's up,” I say as I hand it to her. 

“
Perfect,” she smirks as she slides her finger across the screen.  “Did you call to apologize?” she says into the phone.  “Me?  Are you kidding me?  I didn't do anything wrong.”  She rolls her eyes and brings her hand to her forehead, obviously already frustrated with the way the conversation is going.