“Unfortunately, I remember it too.” I shake my head. “I had zero style if I thought those sneakers were cool.”
“I had a pair too,” Myndi says, “and I remember sleeping with them on my pillow for a week.”
“Girls.” Ryan rolls his eyes.
“Hey, be nice.” Myndi elbows him in the ribs. “Unless you’re planning on sleeping alone tonight.”
I gather up the empty wrappers, hurrying to the trash can before I hear something I don’t want to hear. Slater comes up behind me with the rest of the trash. He leans in close to my ear. “You were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen with that ribbon in your hair. I watched how the wind blew little strands of your hair across your face as we cycled, and I remember feeling jealous, because they got to be close to you and I couldn’t.”
I turn around and look up at him, conscious of how close we’re standing together. “You were thinking those thoughts even then?”
He chases a few stray strands of my hair, tucking them back into my ponytail. “I think I’ve always had those thoughts of you, Belle, but I never properly understood what they meant.” His eyes bore into mine, and I could easily drown in the seductive, chocolatey depths. I’ve never noticed before, but Slater has impossibly long lashes for a guy. They are thick and dark, and they frame his beautiful eyes perfectly. Electricity ripples in the air, and my body is already responding to him. It’s as if once I opened my mind and my heart to the possibility of an us that the floodgates have opened, and I’m overwhelmed with all these wonderful new sensations whenever I’m around him.
It’s an exhilarating feeling—falling and soaring at the same time.
Planting my hands lightly on his chest, I clear my throat, working hard to keep my voice from shaking. “If you keep this up, I’ll be the one breaching those patience limits you’ve set.”
“You’re making me feel so many things, Belle.”
“I know. I’m feeling it too.”
His answering smile is dazzling. “I have wished for this for so long I’m almost afraid to open my eyes every morning in case I’m dreaming.”
I place my hand on his cheek. “Feel that?” I whisper. “It’s real.”
“Ahem.” My brother clears his throat, pinning us with a knowing look. Myndi swats the back of Ryan’s head, cursing under her breath. “We should continue before the rain starts coming down in buckets.”
The moment is gone, and we smile at one another as we resume walking. This time, Slater takes my hand immediately, and he doesn’t let go until we’re back at the car.
I nod off again on the journey home, feeling tuckered out after the five-mile trek in the brisk air.
“Thank you for taking us,” Myndi tells him when we arrive back at the house. I’m rubbing sleep from my eyes as I climb out of the car, yawning.
“You’re welcome. It was fun.” His eyes flit to mine. “We should definitely do it again.”
Ryan opens the front door, and Myndi follows him inside the house. I place my hand on Slater’s arm, stalling him. I wet my dry lips. “You wore your beloved Converse, a pair of skinny jeans, and a gray and red Hollister sweater that trip. You freaked out when your new Nike ballcap blew off your head during the bike ride, and you jumped off, racing down the path after it.”
I smile as the memory replays in my mind. “You knew your mom had saved up to buy it, and you were terrified of going home and telling her you lost it, so you made sure you didn’t. You also slipped me an additional cookie under the table when no one was looking, and I know it was you who left that shell from the beach by my bedside table.”
Slater’s mouth is hanging open, and he looks like he’s seen a ghost.
I stretch up on tiptoe and whisper in his ear. “It seems you weren’t the only one thinking those kind of thoughts back then. You weren’t the only one struggling to understand what they meant.”
When it comes to Slater, I’m remembering a whole host of things I had forgotten. Or maybe I deliberately pushed them away, because I was falling for Dylan at the same time.
I rock back on my heels, and my voice comes out loud and strong. “I might not have understood it back then, but I’m beginning to now.” I rub my thumb across his lips. “I don’t think what I’m feeling now is something new.” I peer into his eyes. “I think I’m resurrecting feelings I buried because I either didn’t want to or couldn’t work out what they meant when I was only a kid.”
I press my mouth to his briefly, pulling back before it develops. “But I’m not a kid anymore, and I’m beginning to get a clearer picture.” I can’t keep the smile off my face as I take in his awestruck expression. “Prepare yourself, Slater Evans, because I think a tornado’s about to blow into your life and tilt your world upside down.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I get up earlier than usual the next morning, deciding to cook Mom’s infamous blueberry muffins before I go to class. Slater and Ryan are just returning from a run as I’m preparing to leave the house. Ryan’s nostrils twitch. “Is that what I think it is?” He sniffs the air.
I pinch the sides of my nose as I speak, trying not to gag over the sweaty stench clogging my lungs. “Yup! I made blueberry muffins. They’re cooling on a rack in the kitchen.”
Ryan smacks a slobbery kiss on my cheek. “Inviting you to live here was a genius idea.”
I push him away. “Ugh, you need to get your stinky ass in the shower, quick smart.”
He chuckles, sidestepping me and making his way toward the kitchen.
“See you later.” I toss a quick wave at Slater as I dart outside the door before I hurl.
After classes end for the day, I attend yoga in Lil Bob with Myndi, stopping to register for guitar lessons on the spur of the moment when I spot the small sign on the bulletin board. I stay late at the library the following night, completing an assignment that’s due on Friday, and I work an extra shift at the club Wednesday night, so I don’t see much of my housemates until Thursday night when I end up cooking dinner for everyone with Slater.
Slater’s a fantastic cook, and Janine taught him all her recipes. He makes her magical meatloaf while I bake cobbler for dessert. We work well together, and there’s no shortage of flirty looks and witty banter exchanged.
“Dinner’s up!” I holler from the kitchen, and Austin, Myndi, and Ryan come bounding into the room.
“Oh my God. This meatloaf is orgasmic!” Myndi exclaims, moaning over a mouthful of the sumptuous baked dish.
“If you keep that moaning up, the meatloaf won’t be the only orgasmic thing in this room,” Ryan teases.
I throw a bread roll at his head. “That’s disgusting. We’re trying to eat.”
“Just keeping it real, Tornado.”
Austin looks up from his cell, his eyes catching mine. “A few of us are going to the new Fast and Furious movie tonight. You want to come?”
I’m pretty sure he means all of us, but the fact he was looking directly at me when he posed the question has Slater growling and shooting him menacing looks.
Austin cracks up laughing. “Man, you are so easy to wind up. I mean all of us, asshat.” He thumps him in the arm. Pressing his mouth to my ear, he smirks at Slater as he whispers, “He so needs to get laid. Do the guy a favor and help him out.”
Now it’s my turn to whack him in the arm.
Slater’s eyes narrow to slits as he glares at Austin, but Austin just cracks up laughing again.
“I think a movie sounds great,” I cut in, defusing the situation before the guys end up in a fist fight or wrestling around on the floor. “And I love the Fast and Furious franchise, but I really miss Paul Walker. It’s just not the same without him.”
“Gabby had this massive crush on Paul Walker when she was like twelve or thirteen,” Ryan explains for Austin and Myndi’s benefit.
“Oh, girl,” Myndi says, looking wistf
ul. “I’m with you. He was so talented and so dreamy. It was unbelievably sad when he died. I don’t mind admitting I cried.”
“I can’t watch Fast and Furious Seven without crying,” I admit, “especially at the end with that Wiz Khalifa song.”
“Oh, gosh, yes!” Myndi agrees, nodding. “I cry every time “See you Again” comes on the radio.”
“Don’t worry, Gabby,” Austin says with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I’ll be right there if you need a shoulder to cry on.”
“Dude, you are just begging for a fist in the face.” Ryan smirks.
Slater gets up, cool as you like, pressing his hands down on Austin’s shoulders. “If Belle is crying on anyone’s shoulder, it’ll be mine.”
The possessive quality to his tone would have feminist groups up in arms, but it makes my heart sing in a way it hasn’t for a long time. “Damn straight,” I say, grinning at him like an idiot.
He pulls me up from my chair, bundling me into his arms, and I go willingly. Resting my head on his chest, I close my eyes, inhaling his scent and his warmth and the safety his arms bring. He presses a kiss atop my head while holding me close. The others quietly clear the table around us, but we don’t budge position, continuing to hold one another close. If I could, I would stay locked in his arms forever.
Slater and I are spending more and more time together, and we’re settling into an easygoing routine. We both work Friday and Saturday night at the club. I was expecting it to be a lot quieter because of the approaching holiday, and the fact plenty of students have already gone home for Thanksgiving break, but it’s actually crazy busy, and we’re both exhausted by the time Sunday rolls around.
Myndi and Ryan are visiting her parents for a few days, so we spend Sunday lounging about the house in our pajamas, stuffing our faces with chips and pizza while we watch back-to-back movies on the couch lying beside one another.
Slater is constantly touching me—running his hands up and down my arms, threading his fingers through my hair, or brushing his lips against my cheek. I snuggle against him with my back to his front, siphoning his warmth and his comfort, and it’s the most relaxed I’ve been in weeks.
We don’t kiss or touch intimately although we continue to share heated looks, and I’m starting to question why we’re holding back when it’s obvious we both want to go there.
Slater drives us home to Lewes Tuesday lunchtime. Although Mom has invited him to stay at our house, he’s decided to go to his own place. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay here?” I inquire one final time as I stand on the front porch of my house.
“Yeah.” He scrubs a hand over his chin. “I think it’s time I finally cleared out Mom’s closet.”
“You want some help?”
His face brightens. “Would you?”
I nod. “Of course, but if it’s something you want to do alone, that’s completely fine too.”
He props his butt against the railing, crossing his feet at the ankles. “I’m dreading it, to be honest, but I can’t put it off any longer. She’s been gone eight months. It’s time.” Reaching out, he twirls a lock of my hair around his finger. “And I’d love some help. Thank you.”
I cup one side of his face, wanting to kiss him so badly, but I don’t want to cross the boundaries we’ve set either. “Let me spend a couple of hours with the oldies, and then I’ll come over.”
“I’ll come back for you. It’ll be dark by then, and I don’t want you walking by yourself.”
Just then, my brother Dean’s car pulls up to the curb, and he gets out, opening the back door to unbuckle the girls from their car seats. “Hey, Dean.” I skip down the steps, walking toward my brother.
“Ga-bee!!” Mia shrieks, bouncing in her chair when she spots me.
Dean pulls me into a one-armed hug. “Hey, sis.” His voice lacks his usual enthusiasm.
“Any chance you could drop me over to Slate’s later?” I ask while removing Mia from her seat. She wraps her little arms around my neck, and her legs go around my waist. I snuggle her close, peppering her face with tons of tiny kisses. She giggles and squirms in my arms.
“No problem.” He bumps his fist against Slater’s. “Hey, man. What’s up?”
“Nothing much.”
Tia crawls out of the car, making a beeline for Slater. She tugs on his leg. “Up! Up!” she demands with her arms raised.
Slater chuckles, grabbing her up and onto his shoulders. She squeals, and Mia starts wriggling in my arms again. “Me wanna do that, Auntie Gabby!”
Dean swoops into action, taking his daughter and planting her squarely on his shoulders. “Let’s leave the heavy lifting to the men.”
He winks at me, but I’m not amused. I have a string of choice words ready on the tip of my tongue, but I hold back, purely because my nieces don’t need to be privy to such cussing. “Your daughters are your only saving grace right now, Dean James, but if I hear such a sexist remark coming out of your mouth again, I will not be responsible for my actions.”
“Christ. Now you sound like Annie!” he snaps. “It was only a Goddamned joke, or have you lost your sense of humor too?” He storms off up the path without waiting for my reply.
“Sh—Sugar,” I quickly recover, looking at Slater. “Someone’s in a foul mood.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, keeping a firm hold on Tia’s legs as she bounces around on his shoulders. “And that’s unusual for Dean.”
Slater is right. Dean is usually laid-back and nonconfrontational, so I wonder exactly what’s eating my brother.
Slater leaves after depositing Tia in the kitchen and saying a quick hello to my parents. I spend a couple hours playing dolls and jigsaws with the girls before Dean announces it’s time to leave. He has spent the best part of his visit holed up with Mom in the kitchen, but he doesn’t look any less troubled as we walk the girls outside. I strap Mia in her seat while he secures Tia, and then I plonk my butt in the passenger seat. “Thanks for the ride,” I say, as he glides out onto the road.
“It’s on the way so it’s no biggie.” He clears his throat, looking briefly at me. “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. I’m not in the best mood, and I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
“It’s fine, and I’ve already forgotten it.” I glance at my big brother, noticing the fine lines crinkling the corners of his eyes and the downturn of his mouth. “If there’s anything I can help with, you know you only need to ask.”
He pats my hand. “Thanks, Gabby, but I don’t want to burden you with my problems.” He subtly motions at the girls. “And I can’t talk with little ears.”
“I understand, but just know I’m here for you if you need me.”
He pulls up in front of Slater’s house, killing the engine. “I really appreciate that.” He kisses me on the cheek. “And I’m proud of you, little sis.”
I arch a brow. “You are?”
“Yeah.” He nods. “I admire how you’ve dealt with your breakup. I know it can’t be easy, but you’re just getting on with it.”
I shrug. “I’m learning that life doesn’t always follow a set plan, and no one else is going to forge a new path for me. I miss Dylan, I really do, but he made his choice, and I’ve got to accept that. I could sit here and wallow in my grief, blame him for eternity, or criticize myself for all the things I could’ve done differently, but I’d rather learn from it and move forward. Letting it destroy me would all be on me, not him. It’s up to me to choose how I react to the curveball thrown at me.”
He breaks into a smile. “You sound so like Mom, and I’m even prouder now.”
“Are you going to be okay?” I inquire, because I’m worried about my brother. Anyone can see he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, and he’s obviously stressed. If I had to guess, I’d say things aren’t going so well with him and Annie. I hope I’m wrong. I really d
o, but the last few times I’ve been around them, the tension has been off the charts.
He sighs, looking out the window. “I hope so.”
The door to Slater’s house opens, and he’s standing on the small porch, waving. The girls jump up and down in the back, pleading with Dean to let them go inside.
“That’s my cue to leave.” I kiss his cheek. “Call me anytime. And I’m free to babysit while I’m home if you and Annie need some time to yourselves.”
“Actually, that might not be a bad idea.” He looks reflective. “I’ll text you.”
I blow kisses to the girls and get out of the car.
“Is everything okay?” Slater asks when I reach the porch.
“Something’s going on with Dean, and I’m concerned.”
He ushers me inside, helping to take my coat off. “I’m sorry to hear that. Problems with Annie?”
“He hasn’t said, but I think so.”
“Hopefully they’ll work it out.” He shoos me into the living room. A blast of heat blankets me the second I step foot in the room. A roaring fire blazes in the hearth, adding to the homey vibes. “You didn’t eat, right?” he asks, starting to back out of the room.
“No.” Not since I demolished half the leftover chicken potpie for lunch, but that was a few hours ago.
“I made burritos and I thought we could eat in here. The house is still warming up, and this is the coziest room.”
“You didn’t have to do that, but thanks, and that sounds perfect.”
We watch TV as we eat, chatting comfortably like we’ve done hundreds of times in this very room, and I realize how naturally relaxed I am in Slater’s company. He knows me so well, and vice versa, and being with each other like this is as easy as breathing. But that simmering electricity is there in the background, humming and purring, and it’s getting harder and harder to deny how I feel around him. To ignore how hard my heart beats when he smiles at me. To avoid staring at those cute little dimples in his cheeks when he laughs. To forgo the urge to grab hold of his rippling biceps and explore every inch of his magnificent body. To refuse the almost overwhelming need to crush my lips to his.
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