by Autumn Grey
But then she smiles. Air rushes into my lungs, and a sob bursts through my lips. Even looking like this, she’s just as stunning as the first time I laid eyes on her.
“Don’t you fucking leave me,” I plead again in a hoarse voice.
“Never,” she vows in a fading whisper. “I’ll always be with you, my love.”
“God. Please don’t take her away from me,” I pray under my breath, muttering the words over and over, hoping someone will hear me. Hoping for some sign that everything will be okay.
I glance down at her neck.
Christ, the blood.
So much blood, and there’s more still trickling from the gaping neck wound.
I need to get to her.
I climb on my hands and knees and attempt to crawl to her but fail and fall flat on my face on the dirty snow, crippled by the pain slicing through my shoulder.
“Keep your eyes on me, OK?”
“So cold—,” she says, her teeth chattering, then she coughs.
Through my blurred vision, I see her face has gone extremely pale, her breathing shallow.
“Baby, stay with me,” I plead. More hacking coughs and my desperation drives me forward. “Come on, fucking stay with me!” My voice is weak and hoarse from all the screaming I’ve done.
Sirens wail through the silent, chilly air. Snowflakes continue to fall like ashes after a volcano eruption.
Her chest rises once and then falls. I’m watching her now, waiting for her next breath to assure me that she’s still here with me.
Her eyes remain unfocused as life fades from their depths.
“No!” I scramble up, but my feet are too weak, causing my body to slump back down. Darkness swirls in my vision, threatening to pull me under.
I can’t black out now, damn it. She needs me.
“You’ll always be my hero,” she once told me.
The last thought that fills my head before my world turns dark is that heroes are supposed to do everything to save lives.
I’ve let her down. All it took was three seconds to bring my world crashing down around me.
I’m no one’s hero.
By the time Nate is done telling me what happened three years ago, my face is drenched in tears.
No wonder this man is drowning in guilt. He believes she died because he couldn’t save her.
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. “What was in the purse?”
A sad smile flits across his face, and he clears his throat. “A marriage proposal. And a ring,” he laughs, shaking his head.
I run my fingers along his jaw, forcing his eyes on me. “You tried, Nate. But that doesn’t mean you failed to save her.”
He glares at the ceiling, tears swimming in his eyes. “I could have tried harder.” His gaze moves to me. “I was supposed to save her. I’d always been there for her. Always. She didn’t have anyone else to turn to when her mother threw her out of her fucking house. I promised her I’d always be there to save her.”
“Oh, Nate.” I wrap my arms around him and just hold him.
We stay like this until I feel his body relax and his breathing even out.
The last thought running through my head before I fall asleep is that Nate and Camille, they were each other’s first love. They shared a love so powerful. How good it would feel to be loved by someone so much that you can feel it beyond death.
I wake up some time during the night to find Nate thrashing in bed. Sweat rolls down his face as he tries to fight whatever demon is hunting him in his dreams.
“Nate!” I shake his shoulder gently at first. “Nate! Wake up!”
His eyes snap open. He glances around wildly, then sits up, still shaking. He drags his fingers through his hair and stands up but doesn’t turn to face me.
“Are you okay?” I ask, wanting more than anything to go to him and comfort him.
The muscles on his broad shoulders and tight butt flex as he shifts and looks at me over one shoulder. I gasp as his bloodshot eyes roam my face.
He shakes his head, grabs his dark jeans and Henley shirt from the neat pile I folded while I was on panic mode. He puts them on and faces me again.
“I’m going out for some air.” We study each other from across the room. “I have these nightmares often. Please don’t worry about me, okay?”
How can I not worry after everything he told me?
I walk over, cup his jaw and press a kiss on his lips. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here when you come back.”
He stares at me for several seconds. Then, he lifts his left hand and runs his knuckles on my cheek before he walks out the door.
After waiting up for Nate, wondering if he’s okay, wondering if I should go out and look for him and deciding against it, I eventually fall asleep.
I snap awake to the feel of the bed dipping under a heavy weight. Nate’s scent embraces me as his head hits the pillow. He lets out a breath, then calls out in a raspy voice, “Elon?”
I turn to face him and wait for his next move.
“Come here. I want to hold you.”
I do, scooting up next to him and tucking my head under his chin with his arm holding me to him. His heart beats steadily against my cheek as we lie there in silence. Soon I’m pulled in to a dreamless sleep, and I go willingly.
THE NEXT DAY, WE HEAD back to Ocala. Nate has been more subdued than usual during the entire trip. I have a feeling he needs space after last night, so I let him be.
We pull up into a free parking spot outside Starbucks, and he cuts off the engine. Then he angles his body to face me. I notice the dark circles around his eyes, a sign that his night didn’t go well.
“Thank you for yesterday,” I say when the silence becomes unbearable. “I had a wonderful time.”
He watches me, his lips pressed in a tight line, chaos playing in his stare. Finally, he says, “I had a great time, too.”
Silence descends, threatening to suffocate me. Without another word, I hitch the strap of my purse higher on my shoulder and swing the door to my side open. I hop out of the Wrangler and slam the door, then squint against the harsh sunlight to get my bearings. I sigh in relief when I see my car parked two rows away.
“Elon!” I stiffen when I hear a familiar voice call out my name.
My gaze zooms in on Elise, who’s grinning widely several feet away. Behind her, Nick stops mid-step, scowling in my general direction, his eyes focused on something behind me.
“Elon, wait!” Nate calls out, his jogging footfalls getting closer while my sister retraces her steps and grabs Nick’s hand. She turns and starts to drag him toward me.
“This is getting ridiculous,” I hear her mutter and click her tongue. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but you need to kiss and make up.”
Oh, shiiiiit.
Wiping my clammy hands on my jeans, I shut my eyes and start counting down from ten under my breath, praying for the ground to open and swallow me.
Strong fingers wrap around my bicep in a gentle grip, and my eyes fly open. Goosebumps wash over my arms at his warm touch.
“What?” I ask in a harsh voice full of panic and irritation.
Before I guess his intentions, Nate’s fingers wrap around the nape of my neck and grip my hair. His mouth slams down on mine in a hot kiss. I don’t return his kiss at first, but then his tongue traces the seam of my lips, begging for me to open for him.
I press my palms on his chest and try to push him away, but he’s like a brick wall. “You can’t just—” And his tongue is inside my mouth, dueling with mine, claiming me. I moan, and suddenly my protests vanish and my hands are all over him, pulling him down to me. Everything else falls away as his kiss consumes me. Right now, it’s just him and me and the roaring sound of blood pumping in my ears.
“Holy shiiiiiiiit!” a voice shouts excitedly, yanking me from the drugging kiss. “Did you know about this, Nick?”
I feel as if someone dumped ice cold water down the back of my shirt. I
pull back from the kiss and stumble a few feet away from Nate and turn to find Elise grinning wide a few feet from me.
“Well, aren’t you full of surprises.” She scoots closer and whispers, “Who’s the tall drink of water?” She tears her eyes away from Nate long enough to raise her brow at me and asks, “Aren’t you supposed to be spending this weekend in Rushmore catching up with your homework?”
My heart has never beaten so fast in my life. Nick stands several feet away from us, wearing a pained look. Nate looks like he’s two seconds from pouncing on me.
Then Nate’s hungry eyes leave mine as he strolls forward. He holds out his right hand to Elise in greeting, even though I know how much he must be hurting just lifting it that high.
“Elise, right? I’m Nathaniel Rowe. It’s great to finally meet you.”
Elise beams even brighter as she takes his hand. “You seem to know me, yet I don’t know a thing about—” Her eyes widen as something clicks inside her head. She lets go of his hand, and his face relaxes as his arm hangs loosely at his side. “No way! The Nathaniel Rowe? The cellist?”
Nate darts me a surprised look before looking at my sister.
“Sorry. I know you from hearing my sister talking about you. How did this happen? When did you two meet?”
I share a lot of information with Elise. She knew my old professor retired unexpectedly and that we had gotten a replacement. I’d avoided telling her about Nate being my new professor. I can’t pinpoint the reason for holding back. Maybe it was a gut feeling that he and I would be crossing lines, and I didn’t want anything spoiling what he and I have?
Nick clears his throat, and we all turn to look at him. “He’s her professor,” he says bitterly. “Come on, Elise. We need to go before Nor calls to check on us.”
He spins on his heel and stalks in the opposite direction, which I assume is where their car is parked.
Dammit, Nick.
Elise’s eyes have taken a suspicious look. “Is it true?” she whispers. “This is dangerous, Elon.”
“Can we talk about this at home?” I ask, eyeing Nate as he watches us.
She nods, thank God.
I walk toward Nate and stop in front of him. “See you on Monday?”
He nods, presses a lingering kiss on my forehead, then strides to his car.
“You are the most sensible person, Elon. You should break it off before you get expelled from school.” Elise rumbles as we walk toward my car. “Nor is going to freak out. Please. . .You can’t do this. You’re destroying your life—”
I swing around and grab her shoulders. “Don’t you think I know that? Please, stop. I can’t. . .” I don’t even know what I want to say.
“Is he the new guy who replaced Professor Harris?” she asks. I nod. “You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?”
I drop my hands from her shoulders, open my car door and slide in the driver’s seat. “Just leave it, okay?”
“Elon—”
“Please, Elise.” I can’t meet her gaze, because she’ll see the tears and helplessness I feel burning in their depths. “Don’t tell Nor. I’ll sort this out, okay?”
“Yes. OK,” she says quietly. “I’ll see you at home.”
As soon as her feet disappear from my line of sight, I drop my head on the steering wheel and squeeze my eyes tight until I feel the burning behind them recede. Only then do I close the door and drive to Willow Hill with my heart in my throat, my emotions scattered and my lips still burning from Nate’s kiss.
A WEEK HAS GONE BY from the time when we buried Josh. Life hasn’t been the same since he’s been gone. I miss him so much. His goofy smile, his calming presence, his unfailing love for both my sister and her kids, so many moments and memories he left behind. But having Cole there seems to ease the pain. When I spoke to Nor on the phone last night, she mentioned that she was planning on telling Cora and Joce that Cole is their father. I can’t even imagine how difficult it is for her to do this. It’s for the better, I guess.
After the funeral, Nick made a point of avoiding me as much as he could without causing suspicion. Everyone probably assumed he was standoffish because he’d just lost his brother, which may have been true. However, it was that fact alone that made it so much harder not to be able to be there for him. To comfort and support him the way he has always done for me.
I was mad at him when he told Elise about Nate. I should have been the one to tell her.
The more I thought about how much I had hurt Nick and I realized he probably wanted to hurt me in return, the more my anger diminished. It’s obvious he acted out of anger and pain. Partly, I blame myself for not telling him about what was going on. I have never, in any way, flirted with him, encouraged him or given him hope that we’d one day be a couple. I loved him and still do, but he doesn’t make my heart beat faster or make me lose my breath the way Nate does. Selfish of me or not, I just miss my best friend.
Now, sitting in the third row on Wednesday morning, I watch Nate shake a pill from his bottle of medication and pop it in his mouth. That’s when I notice his right hand spasm more than normal, and his body is tense. Seconds later, he starts the lecture. He leans his butt on the desk behind him with his hands shoved inside his pockets. He seems to be favoring his right side more than usual. Other than that, his expression is indecipherable. His gaze flickers to mine every so often. I can’t tell what he is thinking, but I see something akin to pain in his eyes before he looks away.
I’ve missed him so much. We’ve talked on the phone only twice since that trip to Jeep Trail. It was nice to know he was thinking about me, even though we left things feeling a bit uncertain, because I was sure as hell thinking about him whether I liked it or not.
I push thoughts of him to the back of my mind and focus on other things. The rehearsals for the fundraising ball are held every day now, other than Sundays since we are so close to the event, which means I need to reorganize my schedule.
I’m caught in my own thoughts when Amber nudges me with her pointed elbow. I wince and scowl at her, but before I open my mouth, she tells me the lesson ended a few moments ago, then jerks her chin to the front of the class. I glance around the emptying room before sneaking a look at Nate. The second our eyes meet, the air around us crackles with tension. I’m the first to look away. I gather my books and shove them inside my bag, then duck down and grab my cello at my feet and follow Amber down the stairs.
“I could wait outside if you two need to talk,” she whispers from the corner of her mouth.
I already filled her in on what happened during our trip. She has been encouraging me to call him to talk or go to his place since I have his keys and surprise him. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. At this point, I’m not sure how I’ll handle rejection.
“It’s fine,” I say, my gaze straying one last time to Nate, whose back is to us now, shuffling papers and putting them in his bag. “I’ll talk to him in the office.”
And I do intend to talk to him on neutral, yet private grounds, and the office should be the best place.
Just before I walk out the door, I feel my neck heat up and I know he’s watching me leave. As much as I wish with every breath that he’d call my name and ask me if he could have a moment like he used to do a few weeks ago and pretend that he needs something sorted out, I know he won’t do it.
I don’t look back though. I’m so fucking tired of looking back, and if this is it, if that confession at the bed and breakfast was our end, then so be it. As much as my heart breaks for what happened to him and Camille and as much as I want to be there for him, I know he has to sort everything out on his own.
“Stop growling at me, you cranky bastard.”
Those are the first words Bennett throws at me the second I answer his call.
I stop outside the head of strings department, Professor Kraft’s, office to discuss the upcoming Strings Masters class scheduled for summer. I rub my eyes to lessen the exhaustion that has been riding me for days.
“You haven’t called me in the last three days. I’m worried. You know I’m needy, honeybunch.”
I take a deep breath, then squeeze my eyes shut to fight the nausea rising in my throat. When I woke up today, I thought the excruciating pain in my right arm would fade once I took my medication. Five hours later, it seems to have worsened. I can’t remember the last time I was in so much pain.
“I’m fine, Ben—”
“Is it Cello Girl? Did you two have a fight or something?”
I grind my teeth. “My fucking arm is killing me, and I’m not sure who asked you to analyze my relationship.”
“Ah, so there is a relationship,” he chortles but quickly catches himself. “You need to go home and rest, man. How can you be helpful to the students if you are in pain?”
“I’m just about to go in for a meeting, then I’ll take the rest of the day off.”
“Good. I’ll bring soup.”
“No soup. I just need to rest.”
“Fine. But if Izzy asks—”
“Just tell her I said no.” I press my head on a wall and close my eyes. “Can I ask you a question?”
I expect him to be his usual smartass self, but he surprises me when he says, “Of course.”
I wet my lips while trying to assemble my thoughts through the throbbing echoing down my arm. “Do you think it’s possible to love two people equally?”
He pauses long enough to ask, “Love?”
“You know what I mean,” I say, wondering if it was a good decision to talk to him about this.
I don’t have anyone else to talk to though. Bennett has always been there for me since we were kids, just like I’ve always been there for him.
He’s silent for several seconds when his sigh travels through the connection, and he says, “In the grand scheme of things, I think it’s possible to love two people equally. The heart is a strange thing, my friend. It wants what it wants. And if yours wants Cello Girl, is there a chance of talking you out of this?”
“No.” My answer comes out as a growl, which causes him to let out a chuckle.