Me After You (11 page)

I leave without getting the double chocolate cupcake I went in there for, and that bums me out. I was really craving one of those.

Aiden wasn’t kidding when he said I needed to start working for her forgiveness now. I know I don’t deserve it right off the bat, and I may not deserve it at all, but I want it now more than ever.

T
HAT
NIGHT
,
AFTER
being on my feet all day, I decide a bubble bath is exactly what I need. It doesn’t help that Dean got me all riled up earlier either. I hate that the sight of him brings me back to bowling alleys and Sole Festivals and lying under the willow in Timberpond Park. I hate that I think of Reese’s Pieces and motorcycles and dandelions. When my mind goes back to those places it reminds me how it felt. It remembers that he can make me feel vulnerable and adored and tongue-tied and strong all at the same time.
Why does he still have that effect on me?

Dean has only raised his voice to me like that one other time. I’d seen him lose it on other people, but never on me. He hated showing that side of himself in front of me. As soon as he found himself losing his temper, he would walk away or breathe through it. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes that night.

The music is booming through the valley of the lake. The bass echoes off the mountains surrounding us. Our entire class—which consists of about three hundred students—is partying at Coral Lake for a summer kick off, the kick off to the last summer before our senior year. A bonfire blazes orange and red on the beach under the night sky.

Dean, Aiden, and Josh are huddled together a few feet away from the bonfire and dancing crowd when I walk up to them.

“The princess herself has arrived,” Josh remarks. “Stop the presses!” His tone sends an unpleasant shudder down my spine. It holds more mocking than teasing, but I smile anyway. Showing him how uncomfortable he makes me would only be providing more ammo.

“Hey, guys.”

Dean puts his arm around my waist, tugging me close to his side, and plants a kiss on my temple. “Hey, Jack,” he whispers into my hair. “You look beautiful.”

I smile up at him and let my lips linger on his jaw. “Thanks.”

“Well, that’s about as much of the happy couple I can take,” Josh says and pulls something skinny and white from his shirt pocket. It’s probably something he can smoke. But at least it means we most likely won’t see him for the rest of the night.

“I’ll catch you losers on the flipside.” Josh walks away, with Aiden in tow, throwing a dirty hand gesture in our direction. Dean tries to laugh it off, but I can tell he’s just as uncomfortable as I am.

“I won’t lie to you, Dean. I don’t understand why you’re friends with Josh. You’re nothing like him.”

Dean shrugs, but I can see my comment bothers him, so I try to smooth it out. “I just mean, he’s always high or drunk or asking for trouble, and you… aren’t. How did you become friends with him?”

“We get each other, Jack. He’s got my back. I promise he’s not all bad. Things just aren’t easy for him.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to be friends with him. He doesn’t seem like the best company to keep around.” I worry about Dean. He doesn’t need to get mixed up with something because of Josh. Who knows what illegal shenanigans Josh is involved in?

“Life’s not all rainbows and butterflies, Sawyer. Our world isn’t like yours.” The shift in Dean’s tone makes me wince.

“Well, that’s a little unfair, don’t you think? Just because life sucks doesn’t mean he has to be such a jerk.”

“You shouldn’t go poking your nose into things you don’t understand,” he snaps.

“Dean, I didn’t mean to make you mad. I just don’t think Josh—“

“Just leave it alone, Sawyer!”

He swears and kicks the dirt. His eyes are heated. His pupils dilate, covering every green inch of his irises.

I can’t help recoiling. He’s never yelled at me before. Sure, we’ve been in fights, but they were merely mild disagreements, slightly heated debates, not knockdown, drag-out screaming matches.

In an instant, his countenance changes. His shoulders sag, and before I can say anything, he turns and walks away. I try to follow him, but he disappears into the crowd. I search everywhere for him, but he’s gone.

He never did explain to me why I made him so angry. I remember when he finally came back to me after that, though. It wasn’t that night or the next day. In fact, Dean ignored me all weekend. I tried texting him and calling him, but I never got a reply. I tried going over to his house, but no one answered. It wasn’t as if I expected them to. His dad rarely ever showed his face when we were at his house. Why would he answer for me now?

It wasn’t until Monday after school that I saw Dean. He ditched all of his classes, and I was getting more than a little worried. What if something actually happened to him? It wasn’t like him to disappear. I remember worrying that I pushed him over the edge.

Dean’s leaning back against the driver’s side of my car in the school parking lot, his arms folded across his chest. A black baseball cap covers his hair with little flips of the brunette locks resting on top of his ears. When he sees me he stands up straight and his arms drop to his sides. I think about ignoring him and giving him the cold shoulder. He put me through hell this weekend. If something happened to him, how would I have known? There wouldn’t have been anyone to tell me. I should make him suffer for it. But I’m so grateful he’s okay I run up to him and throw my arms around his neck.

He sucks in a deep, surprised breath and forms his soft lips to the bare skin at the nape of my neck. “I’m so sorry, Jack.” He presses little kisses over and over on my skin and I tremble.

I shake my head and hold him tighter, reaching my hands all the way around to my elbows. “I don’t care. I’m just so grateful you’re okay.” I place one hand on the back of his neck, brushing down the hair peaking out of his cap. The need to take care of him consumes me. He has no one to take care of him.

“I thought you would hate me.” Dean pulls back and looks down into my eyes. The tips of his fingers stroke my waist as he holds me away from him.

“Hate you? Even if I wanted to hate you, my heart wouldn’t give me that choice. You’re stuck with me.”

The corner of his mouth turns up in a half smile, but he sobers. “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. It was wrong of me. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I nod. “I get it. I don’t understand the relationship you have with Josh. I over stepped.”

He shakes his head. “No. It doesn’t excuse what I did. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I yelled at you.”

“It’s okay, Dean.”

“I’ve been trying to gain the courage to come talk to you for days. I thought you’d never forgive me.”

The tips of my fingers brush his cheek as I cradle his face in my hand. “Have a little more faith in me than that. It’d take a lot more to scare me than one glimpse of a little temper.” I smirk.

He moves the bill of his hat to the back of his head and leans in to kiss my lips. “You know I love you.”

“I do,” I say against his lips. “But don’t shut me out again, okay? I was really worried about you.”

“Never,” he whispers and forms his mouth to mine.

Lily takes care of him now. Does she take good care of him? Is he happy? I don’t know why I’m still worrying about him. He’s a grown man. He can take care of himself. But even after all we’ve been through, it would be comforting to know he’s not being neglected. He’s had enough of that in his life. Even through my resentment I can still see he deserves more.

I dim the lights in the bathroom and shuffle across the tile floor to light some aromatherapy candles, then sink under the warm water to try and forget. The heat relaxes my muscles while the soft music calms my mind. I let my head lie back against the porcelain and breathe.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

“You know, as much as eloping sounded tempting I’m really glad we didn’t.” I brush my toes against Grayson’s at the end of the tub. Sinking lower in the water, the bubbles tickle my chin.

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“I think my mom would have killed me. Or you when she found out it was your idea.”

He chuckles, and I feel it ripple down my back. “Hey now, it was only my idea because I thought that’s what you would have wanted.”

“It was.” My head falls back against his bare shoulder. Eloping would have been easier. So much easier. But it was too impulsive. It wouldn’t have been right. I didn’t want to elope for the right reasons. “But today was perfect. Having our families and friends there made it feel official and… right. You know?”

“It was right. I can’t imagine having anyone else by my side today but you.” His nose brushes up and down the length of my neck.

A twinge lurches my heart when Dean’s face flashes in my mind. I smash that box closed as swiftly as I can, but it’s not fast enough. The pain of losing him and what could have been ours hasn’t ebbed.

If I agree with Grayson, it will be a lie. I tilt my head back to kiss his smooth jaw. His head tilts down in my direction. His hazel eyes glide deliberately slow over my face, and I wonder if it’s physically possible to melt away because his penetrating gaze paralyzes my body. His eyes end their memorization on mine, so full of love and desire. I hate myself for loving Dean. I decide, once and for all, to douse that old flame because Grayson was the one by my side today. He is the one I am with. He is the one doing everything in his power to make me happy. I will love the one I am with.

All right.
Hastily, I rise from the bathtub, splashing water on the tile floor. Not even some candles, Enya, and bubbles can relax me. When it’s not one, it’s the other. Dean and Grayson will haunt me forever. My mind never gets a chance to shut them off. But I know that can’t be right. My mind isn’t on constant Grayson and Dean mode. So when do I have relief? When do they leave me alone?

Sprinkles. When I bake, they take a break to sit back and watch me work. As most men do when a woman is hard at work in the kitchen. The irony is not lost on me. So, I throw on some pajamas and head for the kitchen.

“Did you not get enough of your kitchen at work, sweet girl?” My dad is sitting at the kitchen table with his laptop open in front of him. I imagine, now that he’s retired, he’s searching for a new set of golf clubs. What is it with old guys and golf anyway? They have so much time on their hands they want to spend it doing the most boring, time consuming sport ever?

“Baking calms me. Do you have any requests?”

“Taking orders? Hmm. This works for me. I’ll make it simple on you. Chocolate chip cookies?”

“I can work with that.”

An hour later, I’ve made at least three-dozen cookies, and the kitchen is a disaster.

I don’t notice Mom until I hear her talking to Dad. “She says baking helps,” Dad whispers as if he thinks I can’t hear him.

As I’m pulling another batch of cookies out of the oven, Mom walks over to me. “Can I help?”

“If you want to load the next cookie sheet, you’re welcome to.”

She nods, attempting to stifle a smile as we work alongside each other until every last cookie is baked. The only problem is, I have no idea what I’m going to do with nearly forty cookies.

Aside from eating every last one.

I
DRAPE
MY
arm over Lily’s shoulder as we walk toward the movie theater in downtown Willowhaven. She leans her head in the crook of my shoulder and tucks her hand in my back pocket.

“I ran into Josh down by the post office today. I know you really care about him, so I tried being polite, but he didn’t even acknowledge me. He walked right past me.”

He probably was too hopped up on whatever he’s on to care about anyone or anything around him. I hum a response because I don’t have much to tell her.

“I don’t know how you can be friends with someone who has such a disregard for everyone and everything around him—someone who has such a lack of respect for themselves. I don’t like him, Dean.” Lily says, relieved to get the truth off her chest. “There, I said it.”

She doesn’t realize I already know this. I don’t care what she has to say about him. I’ve had it with her inability to accept anyone different than her. “Lil, I know, and whatever you think about Josh doesn’t matter to me. To be honest, I’m tired of you constantly shooting him down. You don’t know him. He’s had it worse off than anyone in this town. So, just lay off, will you?”

Shards of glass coat the kitchen floor—the mug my mom gave my dad for his last birthday before she left no longer usable. I look up at Josh, and his eyes are panicked. The TV goes quiet—my dad must have muted it. I grab a broom from the cupboard and race to start sweeping it up. I don’t know if he’ll be more upset that I broke the mug or that I made a mess.

“Boy!” my dad hollers from the TV room, and I shrink. “What did you just break?”

I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to tell him. So, I remain silent, hoping he’ll let it go, but I’m not that lucky. Life isn’t that kind to me.

The sound of the recliner latching back into place races my pulse. He’s coming. I move quicker, sweeping the broken pieces into a pile. I feel his figure hovering behind me in the archway of the kitchen entrance so I turn. Ignoring him will make it worse.

“Is that my mug?” His voice is steely as he points to the ground littered with broken glass.

“Yes, sir,” I reply quietly and swallow.

“You stupid moron! What made you think it was a good idea to get that mug? That’s not yours to touch!” He towers over Josh and me. His eyes dart to the broom in my hand. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice? You trying to hide the evidence?” He’s shouting, and I don’t know how to make him stop. I wish Josh wasn’t here to listen to him yell. I’m used to his yelling. That’s how he communicates, but he’s different this time. Rage burns in his eyes.