by Megan Green
I smile as I watch him stride over to it, rolling up his sleeves as he nears. Spitting into his hands, he bends at the knees and works his fingers under the gigantic piece of wood.
“I can’t carry you back down the mountain, so you’d better not hurt yourself!” I shout as I watch him strain to lift the log.
His face reddens with the exertion, and when I see a vein pop on his forehead, I decide enough is enough. I roll my eyes and walk over to him, grabbing the backpack he dropped when we first entered the meadow.
“How about we just sit here?”
Ian falls back on his ass, the breath coming out of him in a whoosh. “Oh, thank God. I didn’t want to admit defeat, but that son of a bitch is heavy.”
I laugh. “Well, it is a tree. Last time I checked, you weren’t Paul Bunyan. Pretty sure mere mortals can’t lift a full-sized tree.”
I sit down on the log, leaning back so that I can lift my face up to the sun. It’s a beautiful day outside, but the chill in the air has been stinging my cheeks. The warm sun is a welcome sensation.
Ian swings a leg over the log and sits next to me. “You hungry?”
I raise my eyes to his. “I meant what I said. I’m not killing anything.”
He laughs. “Chicken. Lucky for you, I had enough insight to pack food,” he says, unzipping the backpack at our feet. He pulls out a few wrapped sandwiches, two apples, some grapes, and a small box of crackers. Once he has that all arranged on the log between us, he reaches back inside and pulls out two bottles of water.
I raise an eyebrow. “This is quite the spread for an impromptu picnic.”
He shrugs. “What can I say? I like to eat.”
He tosses me a sandwich before promptly digging into his own. I unwrap it, not at all surprised to find PB & J. When I look back up at him, he smiles.
“It’s tradition. We have lunch together, we have PB and J. Just the way it is.”
I give him a playful roll of my eyes, smiling as I bite into the sandwich. It’s surprisingly good.
I moan as I chew. “What did you put in this? Crack?”
Ian laughs as he watches me take another bite. “Nope. Just years of practice. I have the ratio of peanut butter and jelly perfected. I only use preserves, so there are those awesome little chunks of fruit. Plus, I’m convinced cutting it diagonally instead of horizontally makes it taste that much better.”
His words make me giggle. “I’ve never heard someone speak so affectionately about PB and J.”
“I’m a connoisseur, baby.”
His tone is jovial and lighthearted, but the pet name still causes the bread to stick in my throat for a moment.
I turn and watch him as he finishes his first sandwich and starts in on his second, completely unaware of the internal panic attack I’m currently experiencing.
Because, despite how hard I’ve tried to keep my distance from this man, he’s somehow managed to worm his way right into my life.
I know he wasn’t using the word as a term of endearment. It was a flippant remark made in jest. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Ian over the past few weeks, it’s that he’s rarely serious. He’s one of the happiest and most upbeat people I’ve ever met.
But, when he called me baby, I wasn’t able to tamp down the butterflies that swarmed not only my stomach, but also my entire body. My tummy flipped, and my heart literally skipped a beat—something I’d thought was just a turn of phrase up until this point. Even now, as I watch him chug down half of his water, I can’t help the giddiness flowing through my veins. It’s everything I can do to keep from smiling at him like a freaking idiot.
Or so I think.
When Ian turns to look at me, his own lips spreading into a goofy grin, I realize how horribly I’ve failed at hiding my feelings.
“What?” he asks, the smile not dropping from his face.
I shake my head. “Nothing. I’m just glad we’re here.”
And it’s the truth. I’m glad I came out with him today. It’s nice to know I’m not entirely broken. That the part of me I thought had died in the car that night is, in fact, still alive, just in a very, very deep coma. Ian has somehow managed to reach down to that part of me and pull it back from its eternal slumber.
But that still doesn’t change the reality that I can’t be with him. It wouldn’t be fair to him.
Because, even if he’s managed to reawaken the part of me I thought I’d lost, I’m still not the same person I used to be. Almost killing someone will do that. I got in the car that night as one person, and by the time I checked out of the hospital, I was someone entirely different.
Ian deserves better than someone just going through the motions, living her life day by day until the time finally comes for it to be her day.
Believe me when I say that I considered…the alternative…many, many times. The pain I felt after I was released from the hospital and during my days of rehab was almost too much to bear some days. But, deep down, I don’t have it in me. I’m a coward. Besides, I deserve every moment of this hurt. Living with the knowledge of what I did is a fate far worse than death.
Or, at least, that’s what I tell myself.
So, as much as I appreciate Ian for helping me achieve some small level of happiness, it can’t continue. I don’t deserve to be sitting here, in this gorgeous place with this gorgeous man, eating a delicious lunch and laughing.
If I let myself, I know I could fall for Ian. And he’d make me happier than I ever thought I could be. But that would be me destroying yet another life. Dragging Ian down into the depths of my despair and darkness.
I won’t let that happen again.
After today, I need to work harder to keep him away. Buying the lake house has locked me into staying here. But Ian said he was only here for a short while. Soon, he’ll go back to wherever he came from. I just need to keep my distance until then.
Ian packs all our garbage back into his pack. When he stands, he holds a hand out to me to help pull me to my feet. “You ready to head back?”
No, I think to myself. Not in the slightest.
I place my hand in his, knowing this will be the last time I feel his touch. “Yep, let’s do this.”
Chapter 11
Tag
I bang on Lexi’s door, blowing out a frustrated breath. I’m not sure what I did the other day up on the mountain, but it’s been three days, and I haven’t seen hide or hair of Lexi since she walked into her house and closed the door after we returned.
I know she’s still in town. First, because she told me she bought the place, so it’s not like she can cut and run. Second, because, despite the fact that I haven’t actually seen her, subtle changes to the outside of the house let me know that she’s still hard at work inside. A can of paint outside her front door that wasn’t here yesterday. A toolbox propped up against the wall that was missing this morning when I stopped by the first time. She’s still here. She’s just avoiding me.
“Lexi!” I shout as I knock again. “Come on, Lex. I know you’re in there. Can you at least talk to me?”
I press my ear to the door, listening for any signs of life on the other side. But I’m met only with silence. I bang my head against the wood, sighing once again.
I thought we’d finally turned a corner after our hike on Monday. She’d started off with her usual standoffish self when we first set out. But, after only a few minutes on the trail, she’d quickly dropped it and started ribbing me about trying to kill her and my “unusual energy” for someone my age.
I thought it was a good sign that it hadn’t taken her hours to finally warm up to me, like it had on all our previous encounters. She’d continued laughing and joking with me all afternoon. I’d sensed a slight shift in her demeanor after lunch, but she still hadn’t returned to her withdrawn disposition, so I’d simply chalked it up to weariness and enjoyed the scenery and her company.
But, when I’d tried to talk her into dinner as we neared her front porch, she’d said she had a headache and was g
oing to go to bed. She’d given me a sad look as she closed the door on me, but again, I’d ignored it, thinking it was her headache.
But, now, I’m not so sure she even had a headache.
No shit, Sherlock. You’re just not used to girls blowing you off. This is what rejection feels like, man.
For some reason, Brandon’s voice is the one I hear in my head. Probably because I don’t like telling myself I’ve failed at something.
I’ve never been one to easily accept defeat. When my junior high coach told me he didn’t think I was cut out to be a shortstop, trying to relegate me to right field instead, I worked harder, improved my game, and proved the asshole wrong. When my dad told me I should finish school and not enter the draft right away, just in case something happened, I told him he was crazy and entered it anyway.
I’m not used to not getting what I want.
And I’ll be damned if I start now.
“I’ll be back later, Lex. Please talk to me. I’m not going to go away without an explanation, so you might as well get it over with.”
I can picture her on the other side of the door, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she mulls over my words. Her hands are probably on her hips as she considers whether to open the door and yell at me for being so damn obnoxious or continue ignoring me in hopes that I’ll eventually give in and go away.
Fat chance on that one, Lex. You might be the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met, but I put the ass in assertive. I don’t give up.
I’ll give her the time she needs. But she will talk to me. I need to set this right.
I step down off her porch, my shoulders sagging as I stomp over toward my house.
“Yoo-hoo.” I hear a feminine voice call out.
I spin around on my heel, my eyes flying to Lexi’s door, hoping she came to her senses even though I could tell right off the bat the voice wasn’t hers.
And, like I expected, I find her door still firmly closed, not even the hint of movement in the curtains to show she might’ve been watching as I left.
Damn headstrong woman.
Remembering the voice, I turn my head from left to right, trying to find the source of the call. When my eyes land on the house next to Lexi’s, I’m met by a waving woman.
“Over here!” she hollers, signaling me over to where she’s standing.
She looks to be in her sixties, if I had to guess. Her dark hair is graying in areas, and her soft curves, now slightly weighed down by gravity, are indicative of years spent taking care of herself. I change my path, heading over toward her house instead of going back to mine.
“You must be Brandon’s friend. I heard he had someone staying at his place but haven’t had a chance to stop by and say hello. So, hello. I’m Margie.”
“Ian,” I say, reaching my hand up to shake hers over the railing.
She briefly takes it before dropping it and beckoning me up onto the porch. “Come on. Come sit for a spell. I’ve just finished baking a batch of cookies. Would you like one?”
I grin as I climb the stairs to join her. “Well, I’ve never been one to turn down free food. Especially of the cookie variety.”
She ushers me over to a set of rocking chairs, gently patting me on the shoulder before turning to head back inside. “You make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”
I watch her as she walks through the door, my eyes then falling back on Lexi’s place. A sudden shift in the curtain upstairs—her bedroom, if I remember right—catches my attention, and I grin. So, she has been watching me after all.
I lean back in the chair, lacing my fingers behind my head, as I continue to watch for signs of Lexi. I’m so caught up in my study of her house that I don’t even notice when Margie returns, a plate of cookies in hand. She clears her throat, and when my eyes lift to hers, she smiles warmly at me.
“I’ve seen you over there with her. You guys make a sweet couple.” She sets the cookies down on the table between the two chairs, taking her seat beside me.
I rub my brow as I consider her words. “Thanks, but we’re not a couple.”
Margie nods toward the plate of cookies. “Please, help yourself. And I’ve gathered as much from all the times I saw you over there the past few days, banging on that door and begging her to talk to you.”
I pick up a cookie and take a bite, savoring the warm, gooey goodness for a moment as I think about how to respond. “I don’t know what I did, but for some reason, she refuses to talk to me all of a sudden.”
Margie watches me for a moment, her eyes scanning my face. I can practically see the wheels turning in her head as she thinks carefully on her next words.
“Care for some advice?”
I shove the rest of the cookie in my mouth, nodding as I dust the crumbs off my fingers. “Please,” I say around a mouthful.
She smiles at my lack of manners. “Well, like I said, I’ve seen you over there quite a bit. But I’ve seen her over there on her own even more. And, when a person is alone, thinking nobody is watching, they tend to let their guard down. They drop the mask they put on for everyone else, and they’re just themselves.”
I nod, not sure where she’s going with this.
“When she’s with you, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, she tenses up. She doesn’t let herself be.”
I interrupt, “That’s not true. Well, not all the time. She does start out tense, but normally, after a little while, she relaxes. She’s dropped her mask around me several times.”
Margie shakes her head. “I’ve seen what you mean. And while she does loosen up around you the more time she spends with you, she never completely lets loose. She’s always on her guard. I’m not sure she even realizes it most of the time.”
I pause, mulling over her words. “How can you tell?”
She smiles at me. “I’ve been around a while. Met a lot of people. I’ve developed quite a knack for reading them. Plus, I used to be a counselor. I can tell when someone is hiding something. Or from something.”
“What is she hiding from?”
Margie shrugs. “I couldn’t say for sure. My guess though? Herself.”
My brows furrow. “How does one hide from oneself?”
Margie chuckles. “Oh, Ian. You’d be surprised how much people try to hide from themselves. Even people like you and me, who seemingly don’t have anything to be afraid of, will try to keep secrets from themselves. Think about it. If you’re truly honest with yourself, you’ll realize there are things you’re scared to even admit in your mind, let alone the outside world.”
I want to brush off her words, to tell her that, if someone can’t even be completely up-front with themselves, then they have more problems than they realize. But the more I think about her words, the more they ring true.
Like the fact that I’m terrified Angela’s allegations have ruined me for good. The fact that I’m not sure I can ever come back from something like that.
I tell everyone I’ll never let anything stop me, but deep down, I’m not nearly as confident as I try to put off. In every interview since the charges, I’ve made sure to present myself as self-assured and ready to get back in the game. But, underneath the facade, I’m terrified it will never happen.
Not wanting to admit that to a virtual stranger, however, I instead turn the attention back to Lexi. “So, how do I get through to her?”
Margie gives me a soft smile. “That is entirely up to her. My advice? Keep trying. Something happened to that girl. Something that causes her to cry alone on the deck at night. Something that makes her completely deflate when she thinks she’s alone. Those times I said I’ve seen her completely drop her act? It’s not a pretty picture, Ian. She’s carrying something heavy. And my guess is, she’s been carrying it on her own for a very, very long time. She needs someone to help offset the burden. So, keep that in mind. There’s a possibility she’ll never be completely healed. If you want to pursue a relationship with Lexi, you need to make sure that’s something you’re willing to
accept. She’s going to need someone who’s in it for the long haul before she finally opens up.”
I turn my gaze away from Margie, her words sinking in. There’s something about Lexi that makes me want to try with her. Some part of me that recognizes itself in some part of her.
But, after the recent scandal and everything that went along with it—hell, that’s still going along with it—am I ready to make that sort of commitment?
I’m not so sure.
“Thanks, Margie. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
She grins. “You’re welcome. And I hope you won’t give up on her because of what I said today. Because there’s one thing I forgot to mention.”
“What’s that?”
She turns her attention over to Lexi’s house. “The times I’ve seen her with you are the only times I’ve seen her smile.”
My chest swells at her words, an intense satisfaction sweeping over me. And I know my decision is made. I might not know as much about Lexi as I want to. And, in the long run, things might not work out between us. But I’m not willing to walk away. Not without knowing I’ve done everything I can.
Lexi might need help discovering herself again.
But that makes two of us.
My soul recognizes itself in her; that much, I’m sure of.
And I won’t give in until she sees it, too.
I stand up, an idea suddenly occurring to me. “I think I might know a way to get her attention. How would you feel about helping me plan a little neighborhood barbecue? We can get everyone in town to come. I’ll provide all the food. It’s about time I meet the people I’ve been living near anyway. And Lexi might like to give me the cold shoulder, but I know she’d never be able to ignore an invitation from her sweet neighbor.”
Something mischievous glints in Margie’s eye. “Why, Ian, I think you might be on to something,” she says with a sly grin.
And, just like that, I’m going to have a party.
Chapter 12
Lexi