Love Rekindled (Love Surfaced) (20 page)

Brad

TAYLOR ROUNDS THE BACK OF
my truck and I rush ahead to open the door for her. With a gentle smile, she climbs in. I circle around to my side while excitement builds inside of me. Now that I finally have Taylor alone, I’m as giddy as a kid on Christmas morning. Alone to convince her the love we shared back in college never diminished. It’s time that we nurture the ember that still burns between us.

“Where are we going?” she asks once I’m comfortable in my seat with the key in the ignition.

“First, we’re going to talk. Then, we’re going to have fun.” The truck engine turns over and I back out of my parents’ driveway.

“Oh, fun. I forget what that is when it doesn’t involve a two-year-old.”

“I’m going to dig up that old Taylor. The one who isn’t worried about bedtimes and vegetables.” I glance over and we share a smile. It’s only been weeks and I think about those things, I can’t imagine two years.

“You’ll have to dig deep.” She leans back and crosses her legs, getting comfortable in the cloth seats.

“Don’t worry.” I stop at a light and take the opportunity to smell her perfume. “You remember how good I am with my hands, right?”

She sucks in a deep breath, and I love the fact that I can still get to her.

“Play fair,” she warns. Acting as though I didn’t just make the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, she straightens her back.

“Always.” I wink. A horn honks behind us and I quickly move my eyes back to the road.

“Not really.” She makes me regret the way I treated her. I despise myself for what I did to her two years ago. “Sorry,” she rushes out, when the truck grows silent. She continues to worry about hurting my feelings. Shows again, she’s too good of a person to be with me.

“Don’t be.” I drive up the long drive to Trudle’s Arboretum. Every tree and bush are lit up with white Christmas lights lining our drive down the winding path.

“It’s so beautiful.” Taylor peers out the window like a kid at Disney World.

“They’ve already decorated for Christmas and have an amazing tree exhibit. Each one decorated in a different theme.”

“Is the theme different every year?”

“Yeah. This year is decades. Each tree is done up in a specific era.”

“That’s so cool.” Her hands plaster to the window on either side of her face. “I’ve never heard of this place.”

“It’s more of a local thing, but sometimes a television station comes out to film for a story.” I park next to the few other cars in the lot. “Let’s go.”

Taylor practically skips to the entrance, tugging on my hand. I think the swimming I have planned after this might seem dull compared to the enthusiasm buzzing off her here.

I barely reach the door to open it for her. I pay and we follow the path out to the different trees.

“Oh my God, this is so cool.” Her hand pulls at my arm.

“If I’d known it only took a few trees to excite you, I’d have brought you here sooner.”

She playfully swats at my arm, but I quickly wrap around her shoulders and snuggle her in closer. We pass by the 1920’s tree and stop to admire it.

“I was hoping we’d talk while we look, but I’m worried it’ll ruin your time here.” I’m hopeful we can delay the impending ‘I fucked up, please forgive me’ conversation.

She stops on the cobblestone pathway and meets my eyes. “Okay.”

Guess my hopes for a reprieve aren’t viable.

“Do you want me to just state my case, or do you want to ask a question?” I wish I wasn’t about to hyperventilate with the thought of dredging up our past.

Our footsteps proceed to the next tree, and I reach for her hand to stay connected in this moment.

“You aren’t on the stand, Brad. I’ve forgiven you already. Tell me what you want.” Her eyes don’t meet mine, though.

“After the Olympics fell through for me, and Tanner left for Colorado, I didn’t know who I was. It was as though I was in someone else’s body—someone who’d lost their dream. Ever since I was young, I imagined myself standing on that pedestal claiming the gold. So, I started using the drugs as a way to escape the sense of imprisonment I felt. When I pushed you away, it was because you saw me as the person I thought I was until I was just another college swimmer with no future. So, in a way, I purposely sabotaged us just to show you the piece of shit you were with.”

“Brad,” she sighs, and I can see she wants to argue with me about this, but she can’t. And she shouldn’t.

“The girl though . . . I’m sorry.” I shake my head as though I have an image of her in my head. I couldn’t pick her out of a lineup, but I could conjure up the hurt in Taylor’s eyes that night.

“How come you never fought for me?” Her voice is shallow and a bit hesitant, which only makes me hate myself more.

I grip her hand tighter, stopping us in front of the next tree.

“God, Taylor.” I run my hand down my face. “I honestly thought you were better off without me. I had nothing to offer you. No future, no dreams, no will to live.”

The recollection of that time is still hazy. I’ve never been able to recover every minute of the time right after Taylor left me. “I locked myself in my apartment,” I confess, mostly because it’s what I remember. The drapes drawn shut and reruns of
Seinfeld
over and over again. The only time I left was at night when I would sneak off and buy my next mind-numbing drug.

“Piper finally got through to me. She and a couple guys waited for me to leave one night and staged an intervention. I went straight home where I went through counseling and eventually started graduate school.”

I stop us, holding her cheeks in my chilled hands. Her pure and honest eyes search mine for the sincerity she fears I won’t give her. “Even after I cleaned myself up, and thought maybe I could live a life without swimming, I’d convinced myself you were better off without me.”

Her eyes close and a tear falls down her rosy cheek. “Brad, I never thought that.”

My hands drop to my sides and I snatch her hand up to lead us away. For some reason, walking makes this heart-to-heart easier. Maybe because it hides the hurt in her eyes.

“Lately, I think to myself, thank God you never came looking for me. What a douche of a father I would have been.”

“Don’t say that,” she argues, like always. I think I used her confidence in me as a crutch when we were in college. Like if Taylor truly believed I was a good person, then I was. When in truth, I was an asshole who did unthinkable things to make my dream come true.

“Don’t argue, Taylor. It’s the truth. I was a class A douchebag in college, because if I was half a man—half the man I believe I am today—I’d had never cheated on you. And I sure as shit would have chased after you.”

She’s silent, signaling that she’s relenting on the fact I’m speaking the truth.

I lead her over to the park bench and wait for her to sit. She lets go of my hand, slides onto the bench, and tucks her hands under her legs. I squat down in front of her, resting my hands on her jean-clad thighs, and her legs, which are bouncing with nerves slow down.

“I’m sorry, Taylor. I know those two words aren’t enough, but I guarantee you, I’ll prove my worth if you give me the chance. I’ll show you that you are the only woman I’ve ever loved—past, present, and future.” I stare directly in her tear-filled eyes, practically crossing my fingers and toes in hope she believes me.

Her head slowly nods, but she says nothing. The silence is deafening until a round of high school kids on a double date cross our path. They carry on with one another, the guys definitely showing off for their dates. I wait for them to pass, giving Taylor time to process what I’ve said.

After they’ve turned the corner, I inch closer, my hands sliding around her waist until they rest on the small of her back. My head falls into her lap and I hug her tightly until her hands have no choice but to thread through my dark hair. I lay there for several minutes, loving the way her fingers outline patterns across my scalp.

“Okay.”

I pick up my head and her hands fall away. I miss them already. “Yeah?” I question to double-check I heard her right.

A shy smile crosses her lips. “If you forgive me for not telling you about Em, how can I not forgive you for cheating on me? So, okay, let’s give us an honest try.”

“I forgive you,” I rush out fast before she changes her mind.

I spring up to my feet and pluck her up from the bench. Wrapping my arms around her, I lift her feet off the ground and twirl us around. As I slow down, her toes return to the concrete path and my hand moves along her cheek into her hair.

“You just made me the happiest man.” I bend down and my lips lightly brush hers. After I test the waters, and discover she’s just as eager as I am for the kiss, I press firmer. Her fingers hook in my belt loops and she draws me closer. Unable to pull myself away from her, my tongue slides in, needing to taste her again. She doesn’t hesitate, but smashes her lips harder to mine, our mouths returning to a dance we’d mastered years ago. When we finally break away, my chest aches as I catch my breath. Her lips match her pink cheeks now, but for an entirely different reason.

“God, I missed you,” I murmur, and a small laugh escapes her.

“Me too,” she says, and nothing in this world will ever feel more right than Taylor Delaney in my arms.

“Now, do you want to look at some trees?”

“That’d be nice.” Her hands clench my jacket, not letting go of me yet, and I revel in the smell of jasmine as her hair tickles my nostrils.

Finally, after a long hug, my hand travels down the length of her arm until her hand is tucked inside mine. We walk by a few trees, Taylor’s eyes light up with intrigue for each one. Granting every tree equal attention, she reads the plaques describing who decorated them. She even points out the highlights for me.

“You always were the best tutor.” I smile down at her as her finger runs along the glass case enthralled about the 1960s tree.

“You weren’t my best student.” She raises her eyebrows, and instantly, that moment in the library flashes to mind.

She points her finger in my face, the light above shining on her new pink nail polish. “Don’t even say it.” Her face turns a shade of pink. She’s remembering the time I snuck her in the study room on the false pretense I needed help in Organic Chemistry.

“What? I really was struggling.” I counter from numerous arguments we had about this incident before that I had a B in the class already, but snuck her in there just to screw her.

“Uh-huh. What about the fact you snuck that poor freshman a twenty to make sure we weren’t interrupted? That kid always gave me the creeps after that when I would ask for a study room. Like he was ready to pounce on me.” She shakes her head and leans into me a little more. Oh, how easy our relationship always was.

“I would have kicked his ass.”

She looks up, a smile creasing her lips. “I know you would have. My protector.” She wraps her arm around my waist and pulls me closer. Damn she feels good.

“Always,” I promise her. I’ll never fail her again.

We finally arrive at this decade’s tree, and my jaw could hit the floor. There in all its glory is Tanner’s fucking face on the top of the tree. The star he is in this town.

“What the fuck?” I murmur, stepping closer to check my eyes aren’t deceiving me.

Written on the damn sheet of paper, Tanner McCain, Olympian gold Medalist hopeful. “They decorated a tree for him?” Taylor’s voice is as surprised as my wide eyes.

“Glory boy,” I remind her.

“Obviously.” She reads over the sheet of paper describing the tree while I bypass the bio of my best friend turned town hopeful. I notice this time she fails to recite any highlights; although, I could probably say them verbatim. Even I’m positive Tanner will claim a medal in one of the races next year.

Without even really noticing, I back step to the bench and sit down. I’m lost in that tunnel of doubt, believing I’ll never be as happy as I was when my dream was reachable. I would watch the Olympics and picture myself on that stand with the American flag descending down. I’d be on that platform with Tanner right next to me. We’d do it together. For a while, I blamed him for leaving me behind to pursue his own career, but I quickly got over that, because what can I say? My best friend is pretty fucking awesome. He never throws it in my face; instead, he tries to make sure I’m on the straight and narrow.

Taylor sits down and her hand heats my thigh. “I know it must be hard.”

My hand drags down my face, sliding back to my neck and I give it a quick crack. “It’s like a constant reminder. The thing is, I’m happy for him. I truly am, but my happiness for him doesn’t diminish the despair I feel for my own failed dreams.”

“I understand that.”

“I just wish the pain of it all would go away. I thought when I went back to get my master’s in business, I’d graduate with a newfound dream, but I hated being tied to a desk job. When I rushed into an engagement with Bayli, I thought I’d live for her, but,”—I look over at her and tighten my hand on hers—“she wasn’t you.”

“That she isn’t.” We share a smile.

“Sometimes I feel like the hotshot from high school, who turned into a piece of crap, swearing at the players who had what it took to play.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “You’ll find your place, Brad. I promise.” This time, her hand tightens around mine. “You will.”

Our eyes lock, and I know no one has ever believed in me or guided me like she does. I stand up, unwilling to ruin our date with my bullshit ‘feel sorry for me’ crap. She dealt with enough of that in college. “Let’s go.” I hold my hand out for her, and she tilts her head at me, curious as to what I’m up to. “It’s about time we leave this seriousness behind and have some fun, don’t you think?”

Her delicate hand slides into mine and she stands. “Absolutely.”

I’m texting Audrey as we walk up to the neighborhood bar, Breaker’s. It’s one of a few in this city, but it has a dance floor, so I’m hoping Taylor will want to make use of it. The thought of her body pressed against mine as I lead us around the floor arouses something in me that’s been dead for a while.

Me: I’m sorry, Audrey, I changed plans for the date. Hope I didn’t ruin your night.