“Hi,” I say, my voice catching. She takes a shaky breath.
“Can I give you a hug?” I nod and step into her arms. She smells like expensive perfume. Just . . . just exactly like I’d expect her to smell. One of her hands strokes the back of my head and then she pulls back so she can look at me.
“You’re so beautiful,” she says, wiping tears from my cheeks.
“So are you,” I say. Rhett hands us both tissues. I don’t want to let go of her.
“Should we sit?” she asks and I reluctantly step back as we slide into the booth. But she puts both hands on top of the table and reaches out to me.
“I can’t stop looking at you.” She smiles and shakes her head. “I can’t believe this is happening. Twenty years.” I hear Rhett say something to someone and I realize that our waitress came over, but he told her to come back later. To give us our time.
“I can’t believe it either.” She squeezes my hands.
“I’m guessing you have some questions for me?” she asks.
“You don’t have to. Not right now,” I say. All the thoughts of her maybe being a murderer are out of my head. Sure, she could still be one, but I’m just so happy she’s here and she’s real.
She’s real.
“I didn’t want to give you up,” she says. “I didn’t want to. But I was nineteen, and my parents wouldn’t let me keep you, and I couldn’t move out on my own. Or I didn’t think that I could at the time. I think all the time about what might have happened if I’d kept you. But we can’t go backward, can we?” I shake my head. I pretty much figured that was the case, but hearing it from her is validating.
She takes a breath.
“And I guess you’re wondering about your father. Well. I’m not proud about it, but he was just a guy at a party. I have his name, but I never told him about you. He didn’t live in the same town as I did. I . . . I know I made a lot of mistakes, and I hate that you are going to be the one to deal with the fallout.” I’m a little okay with that now. Meeting her is so much more than I hoped for that it’s almost too much to think about.
She laughs a little.
“I can see from your face that I’m dropping a lot on you at once, but I have something else to tell you. Uh, you have a brother. Half-brother. I had him with my husband.” I look down at her left hand and see a diamond and emerald ring winking at me in the light of the diner.
“A brother?” I say. And then I choke on my own air and have a coughing fit. Rhett flags down our waitress and she brings me a glass of water.
“Oh, dear. I probably should have held off on that one, huh?” Rebecca says after I get my breath back.
“No, that’s . . . no.” I’ve always been an only child. I never wanted a sibling because I didn’t want someone else dealing with my parents, and then Mia had always felt like a sister, even if we weren’t related by blood.
“Yes. He’s eight. Do you think you might want to meet him? It’s okay if you’re not ready for that.” I nearly slide under the table.
“He knows about you. I’ve always told him that you were out in the world. If you don’t want to meet him, that’s fine. I know I’m throwing a lot on you at once. I’m probably doing this the wrong way.” She blushes just a little. “But there isn’t really a manual.” No, there isn’t. But I bet someone’s probably written one out there.
“His name’s Noah.” Noah. My brother, Noah. Half-brother. Close enough.
“Noah.” She nods and there are tears in her eyes again.
“I’d . . . I’d love to meet him. If he wants to meet me.” She bites her lower lip and nods.
“Yeah, he won’t shut up about you ever since I told him. He keeps asking for a little brother but said he’d settle for a big sister.” A sister. Me. I’m that sister. “I thought it would be too much to bring him today.” Yeah, probably. My head is exploding with this news of a brother. Meeting him on top of meeting my birth mother would be too much.
“I do. I really want to meet him.” I choke back a few tears.
“Good,” she says. “I’ll bring him next time. If you don’t mind, I’m just going to take a minute and use the restroom.” I think she’s giving me a second to process and I nod. She gets up and heads to the back of the diner.
“How are you?” Rhett asks, and I turn and realize that he’s still here. I got so wrapped up in meeting my birth mother that I forgot about him.
“I don’t even know. I feel like we’re ignoring you.” He smiles and kisses my forehead.
“I’ve never been this happy to be ignored.” I settle against his side.
“A mother. A mother and a brother. I can’t believe it.”
“I’m so happy for you, Luna. So fucking happy.” I stare into his eyes.
“Thank you, Rhett. Thank you.”
“You are so welcome.”
* * *
One week later, I’m sitting in the exact same booth in the diner, waiting to meet my brother.
“Don’t worry, he’s going to love you,” Rhett says in my ear. Rebecca and I have talked on the phone a few times since last week, and we’re working on building a relationship. A real relationship.
Rebecca walks in, with a little boy following her. His hair is only a few shades darker, and he’s got the most striking dark blue eyes. And a grin on his face that is missing a few teeth.
I scramble out of the booth again and don’t know if he’s gonna hug me or not, but then he sort of throws himself at me and I have to catch him.
“Are you my sister?” he says, looking up at me with a gap-toothed smile.
“Noah . . . remember we talked about this?” Rebecca says, giving me an apologetic look.
“Um, I guess I am? It’s nice to meet you, Noah.” He smiles even wider.
“Nice to meet you.” What a precious kid. “Who are you?” Noah turns to Rhett. Rebecca does to, as if she’s just now noticing him.
“Hello, Noah. I’m Rhett, Freya’s boyfriend.” I still get little shivers of pleasure when he calls himself my boyfriend. Why did I fight so hard against it in the first place?
“Boyfriend?” He wrinkles his nose. I can’t.
“Yup. He’s my boyfriend.”
“Do you kiss?” I look at Rebecca and she sighs.
“He doesn’t really have a filter. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I say. “Yes, we do kiss, but I think you’re a little too young to talk about stuff like that.” He bristles.
“I’m going to be nine soon.”
“In ten months, buddy,” Rebecca says, coming up and rubbing him on the shoulder.
“That’s still pretty soon,” I say. “You’re almost all grown up.”
“Don’t remind me,” Rebecca says.
We sit back down in the booth and our waitress finally comes back. We all order and I clutch Rhett’s hand under the table as Noah chatters away, telling me all about his friends and his school and how much he wants a dog. I just sit and listen and wonder how the hell I got here. And that I can’t wait to talk to Mia and Tobi and tell everyone that I have a brother. A brother and a birth mother. It’s more than I could have ever hoped for.
I turn to Rhett and smile.
“I’m so happy for you, Luna.” I kiss his cheek.
“I love you.”
“Ewwww,” Noah says, making a face.
“Be. Nice,” Rebecca says.
“I love you, and I’m going to kiss you. Is that okay, Noah? Can I kiss your sister?” Noah pouts, but then sighs and rolls his eyes.
“If you have to. I guess.”
“I do.”
We kiss so long that Noah starts making gagging noises.
“Deal with it, kid,” I say.
Epilogue
Rhett
“See? They’re right there,” I say, pointing at the stands. Freya waves, and her smile is so big, I’m afraid it’s going to split her face in half. Rebecca and Noah wave back.
“I told you they were going to be here,” I say. We�
�re not supposed to be too affectionate in our uniforms, but I have my hand on her back.
“I still can’t believe it, and I’ve known them for almost a month now. Is that weird? That I’m celebrating the anniversary of when we met?” I shake my head.
“No, not at all.” It’s been nearly a month, and I’ve never seen her happier. She’s been spending at least one day a week with Rebecca, getting to know her, finding out about her life, and learning about her biological family’s history.
“Is she here?” Tobi asks, coming over.
“Yeah, she’s right there,” Freya says, pointing. Rebecca waves again.
“Holy shit, she does look just like you.” Tobi says. In a sea of people, you’d be able to pick the two of them out as related. It’s eerie how alike they are. Even in mannerisms, which I found surprising. Makes me wonder how many of mine come from my parents, even though they’re gone.
“Yeah, she does,” Freya says.
Whereas she was so reluctant to tell anyone about her family before, now she’s open about it. She has pictures of Noah in her wallet and brings them out whenever she can. She’s even gone to some of his games and helped him with his homework. His art covers her fridge, and pictures of her with him and Rebecca are all over Freya’s walls. She’s got the family she always wanted, and in another week, her second family from Texas is coming up for a visit. I’m excited to meet Mia in person after only seeing her on Skype. Freya can’t wait to introduce Melissa and Neil to Rebecca. Freya’s whole family coming together at last. And I get to be there to see it.
Somehow I’ve become part of her family, and I can’t believe my luck.
“Hey,” she says, poking my chest. “What are you thinking about?”
“Luck,” I say. “And how I must have wished on just the right star.” She rolls her eyes.
“It wasn’t luck. You saw me in a bar. It’s the oldest cliché in the book.” I laugh.
“So? It’s our story. And it’s my favorite.” Now she’s the one laughing.
“You sap. Hey, is Coach looking?” I turn and see that she’s fiddling around in her bag, looking for something.
“Nope,” I say.
“Good.” She jumps in my arms and plants a kiss on me.
“What’s that for?” I ask.
“For taking my dare in the first place.”
“You’re welcome. Always.” I kiss her again.
“You lucky, lucky bastard,” she says as I set her down.
“That I am.”
Acknowledgments
I conceived of this book nearly two years ago. I was tired of reading books about cheerleaders that painted them as empty-headed bimbos, or mean girls. I cheered myself for seven years and it is my second great love, after writing. It was actually kind of hilarious that it took me THIS long in my writing career to think of writing a book centered around cheerleading. So here it is.
I have to thank firstly my editor Holly, and all the lovely people at SMP who decided to take a chance on this book and this series. Thanks also go ESPECIALLY to the copy editors who spruced this book and made it much better than it was.
Thanks also go to my author friends who have cheered (LOL) this book and this series since I said, “Hey, I’m writing a book about college cheerleaders.” Writing is a solitary pursuit, but I couldn’t do it without my fabulous “coworkers” (for lack of a better term) who are there with me every day, and who pick me up when everything seems impossible.
Thanks also to my mom, who was like “YOU HAVE TO WRITE THIS!” when I told her about the idea and jumped up and down when I told her I sold it.
Lastly, to my dear heart, my love. You are the very best of everything. My favorite love story is ours.
About the Author
Author photo by Shelly Rose Photography
Chelsea M. Cameron is a New York Times/USA Today bestselling author from Maine. She’s a red velvet cake enthusiast, obsessive tea drinker, vegetarian, former cheerleader, and world’s worst video gamer. When not writing, she enjoys watching infomercials, singing in the car, tweeting (this one time, she was tweeted by Neil Gaiman) and playing fetch with her cat, Sassenach. She has a degree in journalism from the University of Maine, Orono, which she promptly abandoned to write about the people in her own head. More often than not, these people turn out to be just as weird as she is.
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright Page
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
INTO YOUR ARMS. Copyright © 2017 by Chelsea M. Cameron. All rights reserved. For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Cover photograph: couple © Jacob Ammentorp Lund/iStock
ISBN 978-1-250-12518-7 (ebook)
First Edition: May 2017
Our eBooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, ext. 5442, or by e-mail at [email protected].
Into Your Arms Page 23