by L A Cotton
Neither of us talked about what had happened. What was happening? But we didn’t talk about leaving the motel either. So when darkness fell, I crawled underneath the sheets of one of the beds.
But I couldn’t sleep.
Rolling onto my side, I watched Ryan as he slept. His chest rose and fell softly. He looked peaceful, and at that moment, I saw a hint of Lucas. He was usually so tense and brooding that he and Lucas didn’t resemble one another all that much. Lucas was fairer like his mom, with the same bright eyes and wide smile. Ryan was all Peter. They shared the same scowl, and the same dark, intense eyes. Growing up, I only ever saw Peter that way when he was angry about something, but it was Ryan’s usual look.
“I can feel you watching me.” His voice was low, and heat stained my cheeks.
“I- uh, I was just … Wait, you’re awake? How long have you been awake?”
We must have been lying there for at least an hour.
He shifted an arm under his head and sighed. “I haven’t been asleep yet.”
“You mean you were awake this whole damn time, and you never said anything?” I said incredulously.
“I was thinking.”
“Thinking? About what?”
“My parents. Lucas …” He hesitated. “You.”
“Me?” My heart started to race as the air grew thick around me.
Ryan didn’t answer, and silence filled the space. He slid his hand to the edge of the sheet and pulled it back, shuffling to the far side of his bed.
I stared at the empty space, my heart pounding against my chest. This was wrong. I knew it, knew that nothing good could come out of crossing this line, but it didn’t stop me from slipping out of my bed and climbing in beside him. Ryan’s arm went around me, drawing me to his side, and I tucked my head against him. I couldn’t explain what was happening. I didn’t want to think about it. I just wanted to be.
Be here, at this moment, with Ryan.
I wanted the feeling of intense loneliness since taking Carol Gennery’s call to evaporate. And just for a moment, I wanted to feel safe.
“Why does this feel right?” Ryan’s voice was shaky as if he was thinking all of the things rushing through my head. But he’d been brave enough to say what I couldn’t.
What I didn’t want to admit.
Nestling further into his side, I didn’t reply. I couldn’t, not yet. Things were too raw, too confusing, and I needed time to process.
Maybe in the light of the day things would seem clearer.
~
A thick wall of heat pressed down on me as my eyes fluttered open, and I gasped for breath. Sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtains, and I blinked, trying to find my bearings.
And then I felt him.
Ryan.
Pressed behind me, he’d thrown his arm over me protectively. Possessively. One of his legs had slipped between my own.
Oh, God.
He mumbled behind me, and I froze, paralyzed in his arms. But his breathing evened out, and I knew he was still sleeping. As I tried to maneuver out of his arms without waking him, pain ricocheted through my skull, and I groaned quietly. As if waking up in Ryan’s bed wasn’t enough to deal with, I had the hangover from hell.
When I looked down and found I was still fully clothed, I breathed a sigh of relief. At least nothing had happened. We had simply taken comfort in one another in our time of need. That was all it was.
I cleaned up in the bathroom, trying to figure out my next move. I could stick around for the awkward morning pleasantries, or I could try to find my way back to Radeno. Then it hit me. Ryan had said he had texted Tanner.
Slipping back into the room, I found Ryan’s cell phone and checked his messages. Sure enough, there was one from Tanner. But, shit, I had no clue where we were. I scanned the motel room and found a welcome brochure with the address. I added it to the text message and hit send. Placing Ryan’s cell back on the nightstand, I watched him sleep for a few more seconds before slipping out of the room.
Tanner arrived fifteen minutes later. His face was red with anger as he stopped the car and got out to greet me.
“Don’t, Tan, okay? My head feels ready to explode, and there’s a good chance I might puke at any moment.”
“He got you drunk?”
“Ugh,” I groaned, ducking around him and making a beeline for his car.
Tanner climbed back inside and glanced over at me. “There’s water in the glove compartment. You look like shit.”
“Thanks, big brother. Thanks a lot.”
“You and he didn’t-”
“Tanner!”
“What? I care about you, and whatever the hell this is going on with you two isn’t healthy. He’s Lucas’s brother, Mila. Older and more delinquent brother, might I add.”
I turned my head to the window and pressed it against the cool glass. I didn’t need this from him. Not right now. I already felt enough guilt. Only for what, I wasn’t sure. Tanner might have had a point about Ryan being Lucas’s brother, but it hadn’t felt good to just up and leave him. But I couldn’t be there when he woke up. What would I say? What would he say? No, it was better this way.
But I couldn’t shake the words he’d said before we fell to sleep. Why does this feel right? Because it had felt right. Call me crazy or screwed-up or just plain wrong, but being in Ryan’s arms last night had felt right.
Chapter 6
WHEN TANNER PULLED into the driveway, he cut the engine, ran his hands around the wheel, and stared straight ahead. He was about to give me the third degree; I’d seen that pensive look before. If Chase or Colton had turned up, they would have wasted no time giving it to me, but not Tanner. He preferred the silent treatment, the calm before the storm. I wanted to bail, to retreat to my room and sleep off the night before, but I didn't. Instead, I found myself trying to dodge his imminent attack.
“Look, Tanner, it was one night. We're both trying to come to terms with losing him. I can't explain it, but last night, I needed him.”
There—I'd said it.
But as the words left my mouth, a little voice inside my head was scolding me for making Ryan sound like nothing more than a convenience.
Tanner sighed beside me, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “I don't like it, Jeanie. He's not like Lucas, and you know that. The whole damn town knows that. I don't want you to end up more hurt than you already are.”
I reached across the stick shift and laid my hand on his. “Tanner, Lucas is gone. My best friend in the entire world died. That's not going to go away anytime soon. I know I have to process and find a way to move on”—the words stuck in my throat—”but I need to do it in my own time.”
“And Ryan?”
I shrugged. He still didn't understand. Hell, I didn't understand. “I'm not a baby anymore, Tan. I can look out for myself.”
I left Tanner and went inside, prepared for what would no doubt be another interrogation. Except when Mom appeared in the hallway, she simply said, “Get some rest, Mila Jean. We'll talk later.”
Who was I to argue with her? I headed to my room and shut it all out.
~
As the water cascaded over my skin, tears slid down my face and disappeared into the stream. Everything was a mess. Was this what losing someone did to a person? As the question played in my head, I pictured his face, letting the painful memories overtake me.
Smiling and carefree, Lucas held out his hand for me, coaxing me down to the water. “Come on, Mila, it's warm, I promise. Would I lie to you?” He pouted and flashed his puppy dog eyes in my direction; the ones he knew I couldn't resist.
“Fine, fine.” I took his hand and followed him to the water’s edge. “But if we get hypothermia and die, I'm holding you responsible, Lucas Gordon Gennery.”
He laughed, and I basked in the sound. HIs laugh made you want in on the joke just so you could laugh along with him. Infectious.
“Seriously, you're so melodramatic. A little water isn't going to harm you, Mila.
Besides, we leave for college in three weeks. Everything is changing. We have to make the most every second we have left in Radeno.”
My hand slipped from his, and I stilled. Lucas turned back as he frowned. “Mila?”
“I don't want things to change.”
Lucas stepped closer to me, taking my hands in his. He stared down at me, his deep eyes and bright smile pinning me to the spot. “Life changes, Mila. We can't escape that, but I promise I'm always here.” He pulled up one of our joined hands and placed it over my heart. “I'll always be in here. Four years. And then it's the rest of our lives.”
I nodded and forced a smile, and Lucas laughed softly before pressing a kiss to my forehead. He pulled away, winking at me. “Now, last one in buys dinner.”
By the time I climbed out of the shower, I was emotionally spent. Reliving my last summer with Lucas was a mistake, but once I let the memories in, they crashed over me with more force that the water raining down on me from the shower jets.
I changed into some sweatpants and a tank top and stared at my bed. Mom must have made it up yesterday when I disappeared with Ryan. I wanted nothing more than to slip underneath the sheets and close my eyes, shutting out all the thoughts running through my head. But she’d been right. I had to try to get on with life. Even though it would be hard and I wasn’t ready to let go—to say my final goodbye—I needed to put on a brave face and live.
Even if it was a lie.
“We thought you’d be sleeping?” Mom said as I entered the living room. She and Dad sat in their favorite chairs, watching the television.
“I took a shower, and it woke me up.” I stood in the doorway, my arms wrapped around my waist, wondering if things would ever feel normal again. If people would ever stop looking at me the way Mom and Dad were right now. The pity in their eyes made me want to run. But I didn’t. I inched into the room.
“Tanner left?”
“He had to get back. Beth needed him back at their apartment.”
“Okay. What are you doing? Why aren’t you at work, Dad?”
Dad cleared his throat and leaned forward ready to speak, but Mom beat him to it. “Well, we thought it would be good for you to have us around. You know, until things settle down.” She glanced back and forth between me and my father, and I caught the subtle nod he gave her.
Was it possible that Mom was actually worried about putting her foot in it again?
“I took some time off. We’re all yours, sweetheart.”
“Dad,” I said taking a seat opposite him. “You didn’t need to do that. I’m okay. I’ll be okay. I just need time.”
“We know. But we’re Austins, and well, Austins stick together.”
My lips drew into a thin line. I knew he was only trying to make me feel better, but they made it sound like I needed around-the-clock care. I wasn’t sick. I was mourning. My heart was broken. And what I needed was for everyone to back the hell off and let me deal with things the way I needed to deal with things.
“You should go back to work, Dad. Really.”
“Well, I don’t know, Mila Jean, your mom thinks-”
“I insist, Dad. I’m going to speak to Betty and see if she has any shifts I can pick up. Just a couple a week to keep me busy while I sort things out.”
And decide what to do with my life.
Lucas and I had planned to return to Radeno after graduation and take the summer off before we moved to the city and found an apartment and jobs. But now? Now, moving to Houston seemed like a dream … or a nightmare. It wasn’t an option—at least, not yet.
“Mila Jean, baby, don’t you think that-”
“No, Mom.” I leaped to my feet and rolled back my shoulders. “I need to keep busy. I know Betty, and I know the bar. It’ll be good for me. In fact, I’ll stop by later this evening and ask if she’s hiring.”
I heard Dad shut Mom down as I left the living room and headed for the kitchen in search of chips and soda. The shower had cleared my head a little, but maybe I was still drunk. The idea of asking Betty if there were any shifts open at The Lasso wasn’t even on my radar five minutes ago, but I couldn’t stand it. The way my own parents looked at me was as if they didn’t know what to do with me. And maybe getting out of the house a couple of times a week wouldn’t be a bad thing.
Nothing could be worse than being here all the damn time, could it?
~
The door to The Lasso swung open, and I stepped inside. Immediately, I wanted the ground to crack open and swallow me whole. Every head in the place trained in my direction. I could feel their pity, their judgment, and their scrutiny. Most of these people had attended Lucas's funeral and had witnessed me fleeing the service like some crazed woman.
“Well, if it isn't Mila Jean Austin. Get over here, darlin’, and give this old woman some sugar. It's been too darn long.” Betty beckoned me over to the side of the bar and relief slowly replaced the urge to turn back. Heads returned to what they had been doing before I entered the bar. That was how it worked around here. If Betty wasn't making a big deal out of things, no one else had cause to. And she wasn't treating me like a fragile child so, hopefully, no one else would.
“Hey, Betty.” I lifted a hand in a small wave as I neared the bar. She whispered something to the server, a guy I didn't recognize, and motioned for me to follow her out back.
“I didn't expect you to come around yet, darlin’. I was sorry to hear about Lucas, darn sorry. He was one of the good ones.” Betty slid her thick arms around me and squeezed.
“Thanks, Betty,” I said stepping out of her hold and wrapping my arms around my waist.
“So what brings you to The Lasso? I'm assuming you're not here for a social visit?” Her eyes roved over me. Betty always could read a face; I guessed it came with years of serving liquor to the folks of Radeno. You didn't have to say a word, and Betty Lamarie knew what was going on in your head.
“I- I wondered if you needed a spare pair of hands? Nothing more than a couple of shifts a week. Just something to keep me busy until I figure out my next move.”
“For you, darlin’, anytime. I'm shorthanded Thursday and Friday.”
If memory served me correctly, Friday was the busiest shift of the week. The color drained from my face. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea, after all.
“Now, don't be going all quiet on me. I can see what you're thinking. I wouldn't expect you to be out front serving on a Friday. Not until you're ready. But you can help out back. Pot wash, that kind of thing?”
“That would be great, Betty. Thank you so much. I just need to do something, you know?”
“Darlin’, whatever you need. There's no instruction manual for this kind of thing. Takes a whole bunch of time and then some. And I know, trust me. Now, I gotta get back to it. You'll be okay?”
I nodded. “I'll see you Thursday. Thanks again.”
As I left the bar, a sense of determination settled over me. I could do this. The Lasso was familiar, somewhere I felt comfortable. Betty wouldn't treat me any differently than she had five years ago when I waited tables and helped in the back. And if things got to be too much, she’d let me walk away with no questions asked.
No questions asked. I liked the sound of that.
~
Thursday couldn't roll around quick enough. Being at home with my parents was suffocating. Dad returned to work as I’d asked, but Mom showered me with unwanted attention. She did have a point—I still hadn't gone to visit Carol and Peter ... or Lucas's grave.
I couldn't.
I wasn't ready.
Just the thought of it made my whole body shudder. And to make things worse, I'd heard nothing from Ryan. Not that I expected to, not after the way I left him. But deep down, part of me had hoped he’d call or turn up on my doorstep again.
What did I know? I still couldn’t think clearly. Maybe it was better this way; maybe everyone was right. Nothing good could come from the two of us finding comfort in one another. Even if the only time I fel
t grounded was around him.
So I wore my mask well. I pushed down my feelings and grief, bottling it away until I was alone. It was in those quiet moments that I let it free. Let the pain consume me. Let the sobs wrack my body. I let myself remember Lucas—his smile, his passion for life—and the dreams of our future together, the one we’d planned before we left for college. And in a strange way, the pain became my comfort.
Because remembering meant I would never forget.
Chapter 7
“MILA?” CAROL GASPED quietly as she opened the door.
It had taken me almost two weeks to muster the strength to visit them. Especially knowing how their words had affected Ryan. But they deserved an explanation, and if I was honest, I missed being around the house—it was the one place I still felt close to Lucas.
“Hi, Carol. I was hoping I could come in and talk?”
Her face softened, and she extended her hand. “Oh, honey, of course, you can. It’s so good to see you.”
I followed her into the house, and we sat in the Gennery’s living room while Peter made the three of us coffee. They were so nice and welcoming, the guilt swarming in my stomach on the walk over doubled, and with each sip of coffee, the words further lodged in my throat.
“So how’ve you been?” Peter placed down his mug and met my eyes. He looked so much like Ryan, dark and brooding. But where Ryan was hard, Peter had a softer quality to him. I wondered if it was an age thing; if maybe Peter had been the same when he was younger.
“I- I…” The words were right there, waiting to be spoken. I swallowed hard and forced them out. “I’m so sorry. The funeral, the way I acted, I’m so sorry. Forgive me, please.”
Carol was beside me in an instant, wrapping her slight arm around me. Her head pressed against my cheek as she held me, and we cried, together.
“You have nothing, nothing at all, to be sorry for, Mila. We know how much you loved our son.”
Something bolted through me. Pain. Guilt. Confusion. It was impossible to pick one emotion over the other. Because I did love Lucas—I still loved him. But the second she said the words, another face flashed in my mind.