See Megan Run

by Melissa Blue

  "Twelve years, and that’s it?"

  He wanted to say, You and I were the biggest scandal. Instead he parked the car. This time she didn’t wait for him to open the door. "You’re leaving something out."

  Aiden ignored the implied question. "When was the last time you saw Tessa?"

  Megan sighed. "The last time we tried to sneak beer from the draft."

  "I forgot about that one." Aiden found himself smiling. Not good. She was supposed to be uptight, and controlling, and reminding him why it was a good thing she left him. Except it felt the same being with her. His body no longer carried the tension of his day. Their feet had found the same easy rhythm and they made it to the door simultaneously. This time he sighed.

  She held the door for him and stopped. He bumped into her, and tried not to dwell on how perfect her curves fit next to him. "My God, doesn’t anything ever change here?" Wonder filled her voice.

  "Let’s sit in the back booth."

  "Trying to hide? I’m not that butt ugly." She turned to him, a smile on her face. It faded, then she moved forward, taking her warmth with her. He made eye contact with Tessa and held up two fingers. She nodded, but her eyebrows rose in question.

  He slid into the booth across from Megan. He wanted the intense silence to eat up the comfortable atmosphere they’d created. Of course she never knew how to leave well enough alone. "You never answered my question."

  "You’ve asked three since I’ve parked."

  The subtle barb rolled off her. Megan’s smile widened when Tessa approached the table. Tessa slid one across to him without the beer sloshing out of the cup. She placed the other one in front of Megan.

  "Long time no see."

  "You’re not going to ask for my ID, are you?" Megan asked.

  "The dress says it all."

  Megan’s cheeks reddened. "I don’t get out much."

  "Not a bad choice..." Tessa motioned to him. "For

  someone who is rusty."

  Megan tilted her head, eyes alight with humor. "That’s still up for debate."

  Tessa laughed. "Sounds like old times."

  "I was kind of hoping for the leather jacket."

  Aiden took a long drag from his glass before he spoke. "I sold it along with my bike."

  "Oh." The playful light left Megan’s eyes, and that wasn’t what he wanted. It had been when he first thought to take her out. He’d wanted her to be the heartbreaking siren he’d created in his head.

  "Nice seeing you," Tessa said. At least she was smart enough to know when to make herself scarce.

  Megan placed her hands under her chin. "My leaving was the biggest scandal, wasn’t it?"

  Aiden crossed his arms. Someone at some point had to be the one to throw the crap at the fan. Unfortunately, today, it had to be him. "Why’d you leave?"

  *****

  Megan lost her nerve at his question. She’d been prepared to play it cool, to see what he wanted from her. The "let’s be compadres" attitude had been too abrupt. He wanted something. No other explanation fit with him wanting to go out on a date with her. How he felt about her was obvious. She felt it coming off him in waves. He wanted her to go back to the world she’d left him for, and maybe this was his last try to get her to leave. It was crazy to think he wanted her to lose the one thing she loved the most, but Megan couldn’t quell the feeling he wanted her gone, and right now. "Taylor made a play for me. My mother didn’t believe me, and I left."

  "That simple?"

  Megan hesitated. "Yes."

  The muscles in his jaw tightened, making him look hard. It would be heartless of her to say we weren’t a big deal, and it would be a lie. For teenagers, they had been a big deal. It was expected of them to have gotten married after graduation. No one would have told them to slow their road, to see what else life had to offer. They were Wesley and Buttercup, Elizabeth and Darcy, destined to be together. That life, that expectation, scared her shitless. How do you begin to explain that type of fear? The kind that paralyzes you and leaves you feeling shackled every time you think about it…

  "How’s the clothing business?"

  His question threw her. "Uh, good." He didn’t want to rehash over the past any more than she did. Her grip loosened on the cup.

  "I wish I could be there to oversee everything, but that’s the control freak in me. I do call my manager every day. She gives me crap for it, but I can’t change who I am." She watched him drain his glass. "I see you followed Shep’s footsteps."

  "After Dad died, it seemed like the right thing to do. I love it. Kind of makes up for doing what was expected of me."

  Was that a dig at her? Or was guilt rearing its ugly head again? "Aiden, I’m sorry about the way I left."

  If his intent was to make her feel like a heel, it worked. He stood up and walked away from her without saying "apology accepted." She stared down at the murky liquid in her cup. Poison or beer? She couldn’t be sure. Megan downed it anyway. A moment later Aiden stood at her side again.

  "Come on." He offered his hand.

  Megan took it but hesitated when she heard the song playing on the jukebox. This was going to be the closest to "apology accepted" she’d get. She almost snatched her hand back from him. A trip down memory lane hadn’t been what she’d come for. And then Sarah Rose was singing, "Before you leave, love me once more," and Megan knew this was her last chance to turn around.

  Aiden pulled her onto the minuscule wooden dance floor. Her body curved into his. It was still scary as hell for Aiden to hold her. The feeling of it being so right, like her world balanced on its axis and stopped, made her palms sweaty.

  It had to be this damn sad song. She closed her eyes and his smell filled her. He even smelled the same. How was that possible?

  "No one’s going to put a ruler between us."

  "Oh." Megan felt her face flush when she noticed she had stepped back considerably. She met him halfway. She’d expected his chest to feel harder than this against her own, so she’d at least be able to tell herself how unattractive and harsh he felt against her.

  His arms enveloped her, and it wasn’t much of a stretch to imagine a smooth chest, hard and tight under her hands. That smell, his scent, filled her again with the next breath, making her chest ache. Rose continued to sing in the background, and she tried to not let it affect her. Megan wasn’t the type to use the word meld, but it fit, they fit, no matter how many years had passed. This felt right.

  She waited for the fear to bubble up in her throat. It would help her step back, if not literally then figuratively. She felt like an exposed wire ready for the right spark to set her off. Aiden’s lips grazed her forehead. She sighed, trying to let go and at the same time trying to fight the emotion, not fear, bubbling up inside her.

  Deep down she knew they were tempting fate by standing here so close together, better than old times, because now she knew what she’d lose by giving in to the wild abandon he triggered in her. Why couldn’t she enjoy this without complicating it?

  "Relax," Aiden murmured.

  Megan felt the tightness in her shoulders that he must have felt under his hands. The same hands gliding up from her waist to her back. The same hands creating a pressure in her stomach, her heart, her head. Common sense told her to break the tension with a joke, but she might never have this moment again. Megan closed her eyes, letting the melody of the song strum through her.

  *****

  I’ve missed you, missed this, Aiden yearned to say, but that would be suicidal. What made him think he could play this song and hold her like a friend, not a lover? Common sense may never have been his strong suit, at least not with Megan. He never felt completely in control around her. His body reacted of its own accord, defying his mind, every time he got near her. He pressed closer to her softness and let himself get lost. He could dream, couldn’t he? He could hope and not have it become some sort of insanity?

  No, he couldn’t, because no matter what he told his mother, told himself, in blinding moments l
ike this he had to acknowledge he’d never gotten over Megan. She was as much a part of him as his skin color. He let his fingers caress the hairs at the nape of her neck. She shivered at his touch. He pressed his lips against her brow. Aiden held her closer, letting his lips settle against the corner of her mouth now. The moan escaping from her lips was soft, breaking the last reserve he held. He buried both hands in her hair. The strands parted beneath the assault of his fingers, and he held on like the desperate man he was.

  Megan opened her eyes. He saw she was just as lost as he was from the intensity of the moment. When his lips finally met hers again, her eyes stayed open long enough for him to recognize the same inevitability that propelled his own actions. When his lips met hers, chaste but unbidden, he let go of the momentary regrets.

  He didn’t rush their mouths coupling—this might be the last time he’d be able to kiss her, really kiss her. He accepted that and reveled in her taste. His feet stopped moving to the tempo of the music and he let her feel every unspoken word, every action, all he’d wanted to say and do since she left. The moment his mouth devoured hers he made her feel it, until a sob tore from her throat. Finally the words of the song penetrated his brain. "Tomorrow isn’t promised, so love me once more."

  She stepped back from him, a hand placed over her stomach, her lips pink and swollen, and he said, still not able to let her go, "Apology accepted."

  *****

  The next morning Megan flipped down the car visor and straightened her bangs. The night before hadn’t been easy. She tried not to think about what happened with Aiden. Instead her thoughts went down a more morose road, and because of it she found herself outside the local church. She flipped the visor back up as her stomach threatened to rebel against the breakfast she’d scarfed down more than an hour ago. She blew out a breath and stepped out of her car, tennis shoes sinking into moist grass. She closed the door and leaned against it for a moment. It wasn’t the church that had her stomach in knots.

  I hate cemeteries. Twelve years to the day had been her last visit to one. Right before she left town she came here. God, how different it was this time. That day came back to her like an old wound ripped open. Last time she’d been in tears. Last time the anger had been like a rock in her chest. Now, Megan pulled her sunglasses from her pocket and made her way to her father’s grave, her heart just as heavy as the time before.

  She passed headstones marked with fresh flowers. She trudged on until she stopped at his grave. The black marble gleamed in the summer light. No flowers adorned his grave. The only words engraved on the headstone were his name, his date of birth and the date of his death. She ran her finger across his name, the stone cold against her finger. She pushed her glasses up farther and then sat down.

  She reached down to pull at the grass and stopped. "Nicole is getting married. I’m not sure how you would feel about that. She’s marrying your old fishing buddy, Shep. He took care of me, so I’m sure he’ll take care of her just fine. I know you are probably up in heaven, doing your angel thing, and it’s not really a concern, but..."

  She stopped and listened to the birds chirping in the tree across from her. She tried again. "I have a clothing store. It’s doing very good. I was young, so I’m not sure if you saw my potential, but...I just wanted you to know the college fund you saved up for me didn’t go to waste."

  I miss you. The words came to her without a filter. She sank her teeth in her cheek and hissed from the pain. She only wanted him to know...

  "I’m sorry about the last time I came by." She pursed her lips to keep them from trembling. "I don’t hate you." She laughed softly. "I was just a little angry. Oh, just a wee bit, but it’s fine now. I’m fine. I know I should have come to visit more often, but..." Megan stopped, not able to speak any more. She steepled her hands, trying not to look at the headstone. If any strength had been in her knees she’d have run back to her car. He couldn’t hear, here. Yes, his bo-… Megan shook her head, cutting the thought. He wasn’t here to listen, anyway.

  "He loved you," a voice said behind her.

  Megan jumped and turned to see Jane. She held up a bouquet of flowers as if to explain her presence. Megan ignored the words. She just...couldn’t, right that moment. She faced forward and wiped her eyes. "I thought you were going to be at home."

  "I do get lunch breaks." Jane sat down beside Megan and laid the flowers near the headstone.

  Megan knew she was lying. By now Jane would have been prepping for lunch and thawing out dinner. She never left until her job was done. Megan clasped her hands together. "How did you know?"

  "I may not be your mother, but I still have the instincts." Jane reached over and touched Megan’s hand. Megan hesitated a moment, then took it.

  "Does Nicole ever come here any more?" Megan asked without looking at her surrogate mother.

  Jane made a noncommittal noise, then said, "Maybe you should ask her?"

  The knot in her stomach loosened and Megan shook her head. "You won’t let that one go, will you?"

  "Why should I?" Jane said softly.

  Megan didn’t have an answer. "I was about to leave. My butt is getting wet from sitting on the ground."

  "I’d feel better," Jane stated, "If I had some company while sitting here."

  "Oh," Megan bit her lip and nodded. "Um, you know, I can stay until you are ready to go. I’m not in any hurry to get back to Nicole." Or Aiden. Dear God, or even work. Staying in Riverbed was already starting to change her, but right that second Megan couldn’t find the strength to fight it. "Really, it won’t be a hardship."

  Jane smiled and turned back to the headstone. "Dan, Megan can still cook. I wasn’t sure, if she was living off fast food all these years, if she forgot how." Jane squeezed Megan’s hand and kept talking. "She still needs work on her manners, though. Considering she is your child, I can’t put too much blame on her."

  Megan sat beside Jane and just listened.

  Chapter 9

  For Megan, the week that passed could have been two minutes, and still it wouldn’t have gone by fast enough. What was the phrase? Ah, yes, waiting on pins and needles. Now she knew what the cliché meant.

  Each dinner, each time the phone buzzed, each time the doorbell rang she expected it to be Aiden. Her mind refused to wrap around what had happened at Tessa’s. It had been one of those moments in life where you could swear it lasted for more than a few minutes.

  No man had ever held her that way, not even Aiden in his youth. She needed an explanation of what it was about, that moment that stayed with her and refused to let her sleep. If this kept up, nineteen days from now she’d look ghoulish next to the rich color of her bridal gown.

  Oh, and she wasn’t even going to touch what happened at the cemetery with a ten-foot pole. Jane didn’t bring it up and neither did Megan. Nope, not touching it in this lifetime.

  "What’s wrong, dear?" Nicole, on the couch, crossed her legs.

  Her mother’s question grounded her. Megan shifted in her chair and looked at Nicole. This woman could sleep through a hurricane and still look fresh and ready.

  "Why did you say ‘yes’ to Shep’s proposal?" She’d blame her abruptness on lack of sleep.

  Nicole placed the cup back on the saucer. "It just felt right."

  "Felt right?" Where had she heard those words before? Ah, yes, her betraying conscience. If it were only plausible to buy a new one.

  "I’ve known Shep forever, but then one day things changed. I looked at him and he was right there. It was almost like I could see in Technicolor for the first time. The answer I’d been searching for was staring me in my face, and all I had to do was reach out and grab it." This sounded deep, coming from her mother. "Why do you ask?"

  Nicole sat forward. If she hadn’t been paying attention, Megan might have missed the calculating look in Nicole’s eyes. Instead of pointing it out, Megan crossed her arms, forgetting her coffee. "It could be I haven’t been here in years, but the whole proposal seems abrupt. I mean, you and
Shep. You guys seem from two different worlds."

  "Don’t you believe in true love?"

  A nameless emotion gripped around her heart. "Dad wasn’t your true love?"

  "For the old me, yes, he was. Your father was perfect in every way. If he hadn’t died, I wouldn’t be who I am today. I still might think the outside world could never touch me. Now I don’t. Too much of my time was spent worrying about things that were beyond my control." She picked up her coffee cup and Megan had to give it to her mother, Nicole’s hand was steady. "Yet, for some people they’re meant."

  "It’s not going to happen, Nicole." Apparently being subtle wasn’t her mother’s strong suit. "I’m here for the house."

  "And the wedding?"

  "Those were your conditions. Are you changing them?"

  Nicole rolled her eyes. "I’ve told you. If you stay for the wedding, the house is yours. I’m not going to take that away from you. The only person who can screw this up is you." The china clinked when Nicole set her cup back down on the saucer. "I need to finalize the flower arrangements. Do you want to ride with me?"

  There was the old bite of the Nicole before she was abducted by aliens. Call Megan perverse, but now she felt back on kilter. "What flowers have you chosen?"

  "I’ll never get you, will I?"

  "I can at least enjoy watching you try."

  Nicole shook her head. "Megan, I love that about you." As if the comment didn’t change their relationship, she said, "Can you live with yourself for leaving the house in jeans?"

  "Jane is usually the one to hogtie me into the proper wear around here."

  Nicole stood. "Well, at least I’m not the only one she does that to. I swear, if she didn’t feel like a mother instead of an employee I would have fired her long ago for being too bossy."

  Megan relaxed with the laugh. She’d always thought of her mother as formidable. To be honest, even if this new personality was an act Megan had to admit she liked this woman. This carefree woman she’d have told secrets to, enjoyed pizza and movie nights with. The pang reminded her that this wasn’t the woman who’d kicked her out of the house. Megan wished she could let that fact go, but it had to stay in the forefront of her mind until the deed was in her hands. Until then she’d have to trust this woman cautiously. "I’m ready to go, if you are."