It’s Not Home Without You: A Homecoming Novel #1

by C. Lymari

  “Wow,” the word slipped out when we passed the threshold. Max’s living room was the size of my whole trailer and then some. I was used to my little space, my gramps and everything I needed within reach. There was no use for more. At least I didn’t think so, but looking at this house made me feel small and ask myself the question I hated to think about, but sometimes crossed my mind.

  Why me?

  “Come, my room is this way.” He led me by the hand while I gaped at his home. Did he judge my trailer? I mean, he’d never been in my room, but he had to know how small my place was in comparison. Did he feel caged whenever he went to visit me? The questions just kept popping in my head. It was a game of whack-a-mole, except for every time I reassured myself, a new question would pop up, making me feel so… so out of his league.

  “Max, why am I here? Let me tell you, if you think you can bring me to your room just because your parents are away, it doesn’t mean that I’m sleeping with you.” I crossed my arms and stood by the door, refusing to take a step into his room even though I was dying of curiosity.

  He turned and smiled. It wasn’t a mean smile; it was soft, and his eyes gleamed.

  “That’s not why I brought you here.” His cheeks were red.

  We had never discussed sex at all, and I had just jumped the gun. I really needed to keep my big mouth in check. Why would I even think that? God, Max always stopped before things got a little heated.

  “Here, this is for you.” He handed me the box. “There’s a bathroom in my room. I thought you could try it on and tell me if you liked it.”

  I looked down at the box like it was a bomb.

  Oh God, was it lingerie?

  This was Max, he wasn’t a player like his brother. I told myself I went into his room mostly out of curiosity, but I was lying because other things crossed my mind at the thought of both of us being alone in his bed. Why did Max always stop? Did he not want me in that way? Jesus, I was acting crazy.

  “What is it?” My hands gripped the box while I watched Max take a seat on the edge of his king-sized bed. I was amusing him again, I could tell by the crinkle in his eyes.

  “Just close the door and open the damned box, Freya.” I knew what he was thinking by the look he gave me. I was so impatient to open it in the car, but now that I had it, I couldn’t do it.

  “Shit, what if it’s lingerie, and he wants me to model it?” I said to my reflection. I was already looking for a bottle of shampoo so I could pour it all over him if that were the case. When I got enough courage and opened the box, my eyes watered at the sight of the royal blue dress. It was beautiful, so soft and silky and covered with silver gems all over. My boy got me a dress, a beautiful homecoming dress. I didn’t let myself think what this meant, but I put the dress on anyway. I felt beautiful wearing it. I had never owned anything so pretty and expensive. Most of my things were thrift finds or I made my own. The dress was short and puffy with a sweetheart neckline.

  I loved it.

  At the bottom of the box was a matching tie.

  “Is this your way of asking me to homecoming?” I said when I dared to come out of the bathroom wearing the dress. At first, Max said nothing. He just stared at me.

  “Max! Hello?” I snapped my fingers at him.

  “Sorry, you take my breath away. I needed a moment.”

  My heart exploded at his words. I didn’t think, I just ran into his arms. Max didn’t miss a beat; he got up and caught me. Something I came to realize was that Max was always ready to catch me.

  “Freya Pratt, my beautiful girlfriend, will you come to the dance with me?” he asked as he twirled me.

  “I guess it’s the least I could do since you already bought me the dress.”

  Once again, he looked sheepish as he set me down. “I was a little afraid if I asked you, that you would say no. I figured this way it would be harder to refuse. If you don’t like the dress, we can change it.”

  “Max.” I kissed him to stop his rambling. Every time we kissed, I felt butterflies, and I hoped that feeling never went away. “I love it. It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever worn. To be honest, I thought you didn’t want to go with me.”

  The last part was hard to admit.

  “Fuck, the only reason I didn’t ask you in school was that Russell said you guys didn’t do homecoming.”

  I rolled my eyes when he mentioned Rusty’s name. My best friend was clueless.

  “Freya I…” I waited for him to say those three words. As much as it scared me, I wanted to hear them coming from him. It almost felt like an eternity before he finished his sentence. “Freya, I love spending time with you.” My heart still skipped a beat, even though it wasn’t the sentence I was hoping for.

  “I love spending time with you too, Max.” I could have said those three words, but I was scared—scared he might not feel the same way.

  Instead, of confessing our feelings. Max and I danced without music in his room, me twirling around in the dress he bought for me. Somewhere between the dancing and kissing, our kisses became more frenzied, hungrier—heated.

  Max laid me on the bed slowly, not breaking eye contact for a second. He looked gorgeous. I could see how hard it was for him to keep it together with us like this, but he did it and made no demands.

  God, he was perfect.

  I didn’t have the same willpower as him, not when I could feel him. Running my hands through his hair, I said, “Max… touch me.”

  Max’s pupils dilated and his eyes narrowed as he let out a throaty growl that had me tingling between my legs. I wasn’t prepared to go all the way, but I was more than ready to get a few bases covered. I knew this was one of those moments that would be with me always, because every moment I spent with Maximilian was beautiful.

  “I… No,” he croaked. “I don’t want to pressure you.”

  Max’s arms were shaking. I could see how much he wanted it, but he held back for me. He was perfect, and he was mine. Capturing his lips with my own, I let him know how much I wanted him. When I brought him down on top of me, he didn’t protest. When I guided his trembling hand to the apex of my thighs, I gasped, and he held his breath.

  “I didn’t bring you here for this, Freya.” Even as he said the words, his thumb added pressure to my aching center, and all I wanted was more.

  Of him.

  Of us.

  Together.

  11

  Freya

  I used to love Sunday mornings back when I lived in San Francisco. Sundays were sacred. Sundays were the day I got to sleep in and woke up wrapped in Ashton. Then we would make love, and that was the start of my morning. Now, thinking back on it, I feel like Sundays were the day of the week where Ashton had reserved for me. While Sundays where my diet cheat day, for Ashton it was his I-won’t-cheat-on-Freya day.

  How lovely.

  The workers Jake recommended came through, and they finished my closet. It was a shed, but Grandpa thought otherwise. There was no way I would have asked Rusty for help, especially when I found out he was married and didn’t invite me to the wedding. That hurt the most. I guess some of us didn’t know the meaning of besties.

  I should get married and not invite him either.

  “Where are you going so early?” Grandpa asked, interrupting my bitter thoughts and giving me back my sanity.

  “It’s ten, not early at all.”

  “Nothing is open till noon, after church.” Grandpa looked at me up and down until it dawned on him.

  I still had trouble getting my clothes all out, but it was Sunday, and Sunday was church day, the day of the week everyone looked extra lovely. Also, it was my first day on the job, and that was why I was wearing a pair of baby blue, high-waisted pants that stopped above the ankle and had a bow around the waist. The cream crop blouse was perfect for the pants since they were high-waisted and no skin showed, paired with cream strappy sandals.

  “That’s right. I’m going to church. You wanna know why I’m going to church? I’ll t
ell you why. Emma made Sunday my first day of work, and as you know, Grandpa, Sunday is church day. That means tons of people will stop by the store and get a cup of coffee and some donuts or croissant, and they will see me there serving them their donuts and croissants, and they will ask themselves ‘Why wasn’t Freya at church?’” I gave my grandfather one of my looks—my “I know I’m right” looks.

  “That’s just nuts. You didn’t use to go to church back when you lived here.”

  “Aaaaah, that was old Freya, wild Freya. Now I’m calm and refined Freya, so I will attend church. I assume Pastor Ian is still giving his sermons?”

  My grandfather nodded, and when I asked for a ride, he said he didn’t have an option, which was right because he didn’t. I thought he was a little bummed that Victor had left already. To be honest, I missed him too, but he was a reminder of my old life.

  The lie of a life I made myself believe.

  “You want me to pick you up after your shift?” Grandpa asked once we were in front of the church. I found it a little sad that Grandpa was my ride to work. Not even when I was a teenager did he drive me around.

  Life had a funny way of kicking you when you were down.

  “It’s okay; I’ll just ask Emma for one.” I kissed his cheek and made my way inside the church. Some things never changed, they were timeless, and the church at Sunny Pines was as charming as it was the last time I stepped foot in there. The ceilings were high with windows all around. The sun was shining through them, making it look glorious. Crap, people were already sitting in the pews. One thing I didn’t think of was where I would sit.

  This sucked.

  “Freya, what a lovely surprise running into you here.” I was about to roll my eyes, but then I remembered I was in the house of God, and God didn’t care for petty high school rivalry. I probably shouldn’t roll my eyes, and while I was at it, I should learn all about forgiveness.

  “Jana, it’s a pleasure running into you as always.” I was about to lose her but then she suggested I sit next to her, and I figured the enemy I knew was better than an unknown enemy or person asking me a billion questions. So, I sat next to Jana and her huge belly, wondering if her water would break at any given moment because delivering my nemesis’s baby while at church was not how I pictured my Sunday going. When she saw me eyeing her, she assured me she still had a few weeks more to go. That made me feel just a tad bit better.

  Today’s message from Pastor Ian was all about decisions. I sure knew how to pick my first day of church, didn’t I?

  “Decisions affect not only you but those around you. Every decision you make is connected to someone’s else reaction. We are all connected like a web, and when one person does something drastic, it affects others, like dominoes falling.”

  I had to look away from the podium for a second. I felt like the good old pastor was talking to me and me alone, but that was guilt for you. It made everything relatable, and it was easy to blame yourself for almost anything.

  “Do you need help getting out, or are you going to stick around?” I asked Jana as soon as the service ended.

  “My husband is picking me up.” Jana played with the straps of her purse nervously as we walked out. “Look, Freya, I know that you and I haven’t always seen eye to eye, but that was the past, and given the circumstances, I say we move past it, especially to make things—”

  I stopped listening to what Jana was saying. I didn’t even register she had just waved a big, white flag in front of my face. Nope, all I could see was Maximilian Dunnett coming out of the church in a navy blue suit, and it took my breath away. There was something so attractive about a man in a suit that emitted confidence, especially when he was comfortable wearing it. The suit fit him to perfection, no doubt tailored to his liking. He didn’t fidget with the tie that wrapped around his neck. Again, it was hot. And it was so freaking wrong of me, but I knew I had never seen anything sexier than Maximilian in my twenty-five years.

  Oh, dear Lord, help me.

  “Shit,” Jana whispered, and I snapped my attention back to her. One, it was rude of me to stop listening to her, and two, swearing outside the house of God was a huge no-no. I was about to scold her, but I couldn’t help looking back at Max one last time. Jana was right. Shit was the appropriate response in this scenario.

  Sorry, God.

  Abigail Newton had her arm wrapped around Max’s. The way she held on to him was familiar, like she’d done it a million times before today, and for all I knew, maybe she had. No one batted an eye when Max and Abigail passed by and greeted half the town. People were used to seeing Abigail Newton and Maximilian Dunnett together. Sunny Pine’s royalty both of them. I wanted to say they didn’t look good together, but they did. Max was a catch and very handsome, but Abigail was a bombshell with butter blonde hair cascading in waves down her back, sultry almond eyes, and lips too big it looked like she had a resting duck face. It was wrong of me, but I hated her back in the day, and I loathed her now more than ever. I only stopped gawking at them when I saw Emma rush past them toward her shop. I wanted to continue watching them. I felt like I was missing a piece to the puzzle, but I forced myself to smile at Jana, and I knew I failed when I saw pity in her eyes. There was nothing that made me feel weaker than when someone saw my open wound.

  “I’ll talk to you later, Jana. I have to help Emma.” I was on autopilot. Trying desperately to keep an old wound closed, I even hugged Jana, as if that would stop me from falling apart in front of everyone. People stared at me as I passed by. I said a few hellos and smiled, waving left and right. By the time I made it to the coffee shop, Emma was already in full gear in the back baking.

  “Do you want me to lock the door until we open?” I asked as I watched Emma rushing all over the small kitchen. A petite Filipino girl, dressed in all black from head to toe except for the bright yellow apron, which read Jess, was helping her.

  “No need. People won’t come until after twelve.”

  I felt a little stupid asking that. Of course, no one would walk in before opening. They knew and respected Emma. This wasn’t the big city where people tended to be selfish and rude. This was Sunny Freaking Pines.

  Jess looked me up and down and said, “You’re working like that?”

  “This is my church outfit. I brought flats just in case I get too tired.”

  Jess gave me a weird look when I pulled out flats from my purse. I made myself busy cleaning tables and the countertop. I was about to write the quote of the day when Emma shouted a big no at me.

  Okay, whateves.

  “Sorry, Freya. It’s just that I had a few complaints about your colorful language the other day, so how about you put something a bit more family friendly?”

  “Got it. No ‘fuck’ anywhere near the blackboard. How about ‘bitch’?” I joked.

  “Wait a minute. You’re Freya? As in Freya Pratt from the class of 2013 who put one of Mr. Rickson’s cows on the third floor of Sunny High?” There was such glee in Jess's face as she described wild Freya. It was a good prank, and it wasn’t my senior prank, but it was my idea. I had to admit, that was an epic night.

  “The one and only.”

  “Dude, you’re like a legend.” Jess looked at me in a new light. Meanwhile, I grabbed the yellow chalk. I knew exactly what to write on the wall. Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory. —Dr. Seuss. I had a shit ton of those moments that were valuable memories that were too painful to think about on most days, but they were mine.

  Jess nodded approvingly at my quote. “Straight from the OG in life lessons.”

  I enjoyed being here in the coffee shop because this was the only place in town that wasn’t tainted with old memories.

  12

  Max

  Eighteen years old

  Senior year was going by so fast. I dreaded graduation day. I hadn’t told Freya yet, but I had already received acceptance letters from all the schools I had applied. Every letter felt like a chain around
my neck, suffocating me. It made it hard as hell to look into Freya’s big, brown eyes and see worry every time we talked about the future. I got the feeling she didn’t want to talk about it. I was more worried about my departure than she was. She acted like she didn’t care. What if she dumped me once the year ended? Freya was mine, and the thought of her with someone else made me ill.

  Now that I knew how she felt like, how she tasted, the way she fell apart with my fingers, my tongue, every kiss I gave her, I knew I wanted no one else to see her in a way only I had.

  “Maximilian, honey, can I come in?” My mother pushed the door open without waiting for my permission. Quickly, I grabbed a pillow and put it on my lap, covering my arousal. It happened whenever I thought of Freya. My mother walked in with a smile on her face, meaning she needed something, or Dad needed something. My parents were complicated. I loved them, but it was hard for others to do the same. That was the reason I hadn’t brought Freya around.

  “Yes, Mother?”

  “Why do I have to hear from the Newtons you have a girlfriend?”

  Fucking shit, this would not go well. Homecoming was good, if I didn’t take into account Prescott trying to ask Freya to dance. I almost punched my brother but refrained.

  “I have a girlfriend, Mother.”

  “Max, don’t mock me. We are having a barbecue on Saturday; bring her over. I want to meet her.” Mom kissed me on the cheek and walked out. I wondered if I should have told her I’m dating Freya Pratt. What would she have said then? But then I realized I didn’t care what my parents thought of her. Freya was my girl, and no one was taking her away from me.