Fragile (19 page)

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Cheyenne.”

“Then tell me. Help me understand.  I don’t see why this is such a huge deal.”  She paused, casting her eyes down docilely.  “Unless you had plans with someone else, that is.”

Hardy knew better than to fall for her ploys.  Cheyenne was up to something and he knew it.  He just didn’t know what.

Biting his tongue, Hardy rubbed the back of his neck, squeezing the tense muscles he felt there.  He knew arguing was not the wisest way to start the weekend, not when he would be locked up with two people that irked him most in the world.  He was smart enough to realize when to play it cool.

Hardy sighed.  “I’m just surprised.  That’s all.  And, after that game, I’m grouchy.  But I’ll get over it.  Let’s just try to get through this, okay?”

That must’ve been something close to what Cheyenne wanted to hear.  She perked up immediately.

“Just pretend like things are getting better between us and he’ll be fine.  He just wants you to be happy.”

“Cheyenne, I’m gonna go along with this weekend thing, but you and I both know we
are not
getting back together.”

Although she looked thwarted, Hardy could tell she wasn’t convinced.  He doubted her ego would allow her to believe it was possible to be dumped and spurned by the same person in less than a week.

“Whatever you say, Hardy,” she said, smiling sweetly.  Nope.  She wasn’t convinced.

Resigned, Hardy grabbed the bag he’d packed earlier.  He made a point to slide his cell phone charger into the side pocket of the long, blue duffel.  Even though he doubted he’d use it, it was some small comfort to him knowing that he could at least call or text Miracle if he was so inclined.  It made him feel not so separated from her.

Walking past Cheyenne without a word, Hardy carried his bag down the stairs, out the door and into the garage where he tossed it into the back of his father’s Navigator. 

Hardy was almost back in the living room when he had a moment of inspiration.  He decided to drive himself to the lake.  At least maybe he wouldn’t feel so trapped if he had a means of escape. 

As he retraced his steps and transferred his bag from the Navigator to his car, he debated the best way to go about it.  It was then he realized his father had provided him with the perfect excuse. He just didn’t know it.

When Hardy stopped in the living room doorway, he announced without preamble, “I think I’ll drive, too, so that Cheyenne and I can talk.”  Hardy smiled at Cheyenne, really selling it.  “If that’s okay with you, of course.”

Cheyenne was beaming.  “That sounds perfect.”

Although his attention was trained on Cheyenne, Hardy didn’t miss his father’s smug grin.  He didn’t let it bother him, though.  Daddy dearest just didn’t know who was playing whom.

Hardy had the sudden urge to laugh.  It felt incredible to finally get one over on the great Wayne Bradford. 

Soon after, both Hardy and his father were pulling out of the driveway, heading inland toward their house on a small lake there.  Most people thought they were crazy for leaving the coast in favor of a lake, but Hardy’s father liked the solitude of the spot and, in the Bradford household, that was all that mattered.

Knowing that he’d succeeded in outwitting his father kept Hardy smiling for the lion’s share of the seventy minute trip.  He even managed to engage Cheyenne in some small talk. 

He was nice.  She was nice.  It wasn’t his nature to be mean and rude after all, and he
had
led her to believe that they’d talk.  So he talked.

It wasn’t until they were about fifteen minutes away from their destination that his plan began to backfire a bit.

“So, what’s the deal with you and that weird Miracle?  Just tell me up front.”

“She’s not weird, Cheyenne.  Just because she doesn’t follow you and your plastic friends around doesn’t make her weird.”

“Then what does it make her?”

“Smart.”

“Ha.  Ha.  Very funny.  Seriously, Hardy, what is your deal?  Is it just that you want in her pants?  Because I can think of twenty girls that are a lot prettier than her that would put out for you in a heartbeat.”

“What?” Hardy said, flabbergasted.  “No!  Good god, Cheyenne, have you always been like this?”

“Like what?  Willing to do anything to keep you?  Yes.  It’s just that I’ve never had to before. You’ve never acted like this before. I’m trying to be understanding here.”

“Giving someone permission to go sleep around, offering to find them someone to cheat on you with is sick, Cheyenne, not understanding!  That’s not love.  That’s…I don’t even know what that is, but it’s not healthy.”

“Then what is it?  What does she have that I don’t have?”

 
A soul? 
Hardy wanted to say, but he didn’t.  He bit his tongue.  That would be going too far. Cheyenne obviously had some pretty significant issues that he’d either never recognized or had somehow managed to overlook.  That wasn’t very hard to do with someone as beautiful and sexually adventurous as Cheyenne.  But that wasn’t enough for him anymore. He wanted more.  He wanted substance and depth and love.  He wanted Miracle.  It was as simple as that.

At his continued silence, Cheyenne turned in her seat toward him, asking again, “What is it, Hardy?  Tell me.”

“I don’t know, Cheyenne.  There’s just something about her.  It’s just…she’s just…it’s like she has a beautiful soul.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew how cheesy they sounded.  The thing was, they were true, cheesy or not.  He couldn’t describe it any better than that. 

“So you’re saying what?  I’m a bad person?”

Hardy glanced over at Cheyenne.  Was she?

He thought about that before he answered.  “No, you’re not a bad person, Cheyenne.  You’re just a little…self-absorbed.”

Hardy didn’t want to start a fight, and he thought his explanation was reasonable.  Although he thought she was likely quite a bit more than just self-absorbed, he didn’t
really
think she was a terrible person; she was just not even in the same league as Miracle. 

“I can be better, Hardy.  I can try harder.”

For a second, Hardy felt sorry for her.  She really was messed up.

“Nobody’s perfect, Cheyenne.  We can all do better, but do it for yourself, not for me.  Not for
anyone
else.”

She turned to face the windshield once more.  Hardy could see the frown that creased her forehead and noticed her chewing her lip.  Maybe she was really listening to him, really taking it in and thinking about it.  He didn’t want to hurt her, but she needed to know how she was perceived by others, that she didn’t always say and do the nicest things.

Finally she spoke.  Hardy realized he was wrong about how she’d assimilated the information.  “You’re right, Hardy.  Nobody’s perfect.  Everyone has flaws.  And I’m sure little Miss Miracle is nowhere near as perfect as you think she is.  You’ll see that soon enough.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hardy could feel his hackles rising at what it seemed she was insinuating.

Cheyenne looked at him and smiled.  He was certain if a viper could smile, that’s what it would look like.  It made him feel more than a little uneasy about what she might be capable of.

“Nothing.  Nothing at all.”

“So help me, Cheyenne, if you—”

“Don’t bother with your threats, Hardy.  If she’s even half the person you think she is, then neither of you has anything to fear, right?”

Hardy clenched and unclenched his teeth, struggling to keep his calm.  “Be very careful, Cheyenne.”  His voice was low and deadly, even to his own ears.

“You, too, Hardy,” she countered.

It was going to be a long weekend.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Shortly after arriving at the lake house, Hardy claimed exhaustion so he could escape to his room.  Even though he really was tired, he wasn’t able to sleep for thinking of Miracle. 

He talked himself into and out of texting her at least a dozen times.  He tossed and turned and wrestled with the covers as much as he wrestled with how to handle things with Miracle.  It would’ve helped him to know where he stood with her.  And where Jonah stood with her.  Was she serious about him again?  Or was he just an old habit, a comfort from her other life?

The more Hardy thought about the Miracle he’d come to know, the more he convinced himself that she didn’t have any real feelings for Jonah, that she was more than likely just too sweet and nice to blow him off.

Or at least that’s what Hardy told himself.

After that, it didn’t take much for Hardy to convince himself to text her.  He used the excuse that if she really didn’t have feelings for Jonah, he wouldn’t be stepping on anybody’s toes.

He typed and deleted the message what felt like a hundred times before he hit the wrong button the hundredth time and sent it by accident.  As he stared at the words, he tried to imagine how Miracle would interpret them.

I’m sorry about the other day in the woods.  I’ve missed you at school.

After agonizing about it for a while, Hardy finally decided to let it go, reminding himself what’s done is done.  He couldn’t undo it and texting more in an attempt at damage control would likely only make things worse.  So, putting his phone aside, Hardy turned onto his side and tried to put it—and Miracle—out of his mind.

When he heard the ding of an incoming message, he nearly rolled out of bed scrambling to grab his phone.

My fault. Not yours.  And I can’t explain why, but I miss you, too. 

Hardy’s heart raced.  Suddenly, he was no longer the least bit tired; he was elated. 

Sitting up in bed, Hardy cautioned himself not to read too much into the short message.  Two questions chased each other through his brain: 
what did the message mean
and
what did he want it to mean.

He’d been so wrapped up in just
experiencing
Miracle, in being in awe of her that he hadn’t really taken the time to think about what he wanted from her.  But he needed to.  Miracle had been through so much.  A girl like that deserved his thoughtfulness rather than his impulsiveness, his selfishness.

As he sat in the dark thinking about her—the way she made him feel, the way her eyes sparkled with mischief, the way she viewed the world, her strength, her kindness—he realized that all he wanted from her was time.  Time with her.  Time in her presence.  All the other things he thought about were things he’d like to do
for her
.  Well, with the exception of the long list of things he wanted to do
to her. 

Hardy felt himself harden just thinking about sex with Miracle, so he pushed the thoughts aside.  Miracle deserved more than just his lust, too.  And she would get it.  What she probably didn’t realize was that she already had it.  She just had to accept it.  He was already hers for the taking.

Impulsively, Hardy typed a response.

Can I see you?

He didn’t care that his father would freak if he found out.  He didn’t care that it was over an hour’s drive each way.  He didn’t care that it was the middle of the night.  He didn’t care that he was technically at the lake house with someone else.  His heart was already back in Middleton.  With Miracle.  The rest was just logistics.

He held his breath as he awaited a response.  The screen went black in its silence.  He hoped she didn’t cuss him out for his audacity, although he couldn’t imagine Miracle doing any such thing.

When finally she responded, Hardy’s pulse thrummed with anxiety.  And anticipation. 

Now?

Hardy smiled.  At least it wasn’t a no.

No, in about an hour.

Viewing her answer as a good sign, Hardy got up and hurriedly pulled on jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt.  They’d been having unseasonably cool weather, where the temperature would drop down into the fifties at night.  He was sure if she agreed, he’d have to see her outdoors.

He was pushing his feet into tennis shoes when his phone sounded again.  He held his breath as he picked it up to read the display.

Park at the dead end and text me when you get here. I’ll come out.

Hardy pumped his fist in the air then felt ridiculous for being so inordinately pleased.  He wanted to tell himself that Miracle was just a girl, but he knew that wasn’t the case.  Miracle
wasn’t
just a girl.  She was…something special.

He paused only long enough to text her
on my way
before sneaking quietly out his bedroom door to peek down the hall.  Thankfully, the house was quiet.  It appeared everyone had gone to bed.   

Carefully avoiding all the squeaky boards he’d identified over the years, Hardy made his way silently from the house.  The one thing he didn’t take into account was the sound of his engine cranking.  He considered the amplitude of it, which was fairly low since it was a newer model, and the proximity of his car to his parents’ bedroom.  He was fairly certain he’d wake them if he attempted it, so he decided to throw the car into neutral, push it out of the driveway and down the road a ways before starting it up.