He’d already told me about his absentee dad and horrid stepmom. My bad opinion had been confirmed when I finally met her a few days ago. I knew his father lived on the road, and that when he was younger, he’d been raised by his grandparents. He’d shared these things like they weren’t a big deal. Obviously, they were.
“I never met my real mom.” Justin reached over and took the notebook from my hand. His eyes and smile were hard as he said, “Annabeth wants nothing to do with me—not that I want anything to do with her, either. Dad’s never home, my grandparents are gone. The only person who cares about me, other than a three-year-old who needs help brushing his teeth, is paid to do so.” He barked a cruel laugh and I winced. “How pathetic is that?”
“It’s not you, Justin. You know that, right?”
He leaned back and shoved the notebook in his pocket, a scoff on his lips.
“I’m serious. That’s on them… it’s their problem. If they can’t see how amazing you are, then I feel sorry for them. Really.” I hopped off the bench and came to stand in front of him. “I’m so sorry if being here this weekend hurt you. I wanted—”
“No,” Justin interrupted. “Don’t feel guilty, Sunshine. I love that you’re close to your family, okay?” He put his hands on my hips and tugged me between his open legs. “I’m grateful as hell that you let me be here. I would’ve been climbing the walls at home, writing even more horrific crap I pretend to be poetry.” When I went to argue—his writing is amazing, not crap!—he silenced me with a finger across my lips. “But being here is hard, too.”
“I know,” I told him, my lips brushing against his skin. His eyes fell to my mouth and he swallowed thickly before moving his hand to cup my cheek. “I mean, I don’t know, but I can sympathize. I’m so glad you shared this with me, Justin. You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”
He lowered his gaze and nodded, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I feel closer to you now,” I admitted, and he raised his eyes again. “Is there anything you want to know about me?” I’d already told him about the hospital, but I figured putting myself on the hot seat might make him feel less vulnerable.
Justin seemed to think for a moment, then said, “Tell me about your recovery.”
I sighed. “My therapists are great. They are. They know I’m into horses so they worked them into my therapy from the beginning. While I was still in a wheelchair, I brushed Oakley to build my shoulder strength and endurance. When I progressed to a walker, they had me brushing her while holding onto a post, or feeding her carrots. That helped increase my control and stamina. Later, I braided Annie’s mane for finger coordination, and cleaned the tack—Mama loved that, of course. Less work for her,” I said with a chuckle.
“Eventually, they put me on a machine that mimics a horse’s movements, and finally, they let me on Oakley. But I still can’t ride like I used to. Not yet anyway.” Even admitting that aloud made me feel weak. I hated that feeling. “My grip is different, my balance is off. Even now, over a year later from when it all started.”
I stared past him, toward Oakley’s stall, regretting sharing so much. Now I felt exposed.
Good plan, Peyton.
“You really are incredible.”
I smirked. “I don’t know about that…”
“You’re a fighter,” he said. “The strongest person I’ve ever met, in fact.”
“I just did what I had to do.” I shrugged as a blush from his praise lit my cheeks. “Anyone would’ve done the same.”
Justin tipped up my chin with his finger and said, “You’re far from just anyone, Peyton. You’re impulsive and fearless. You’re stubborn and curious. You drive me insane with your millions of questions. And your heart… Sunshine, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
I wanted to look away. Hearing compliments was hard for me, I never really believed them. But when it came to Justin? God, I wanted to believe them so badly.
He brushed his thumb across my jaw. “Instead of giving up in the hospital, like most people would’ve done, you walked away optimistic. Grateful, even. I’m in awe of you.” Justin looked deep into my eyes and said, “Peyton, you make me want to be a better guy. I want to deserve those sweet smiles of yours. I—”
I leaned forward and kissed him.
Words wouldn’t express what he did to me. My heart felt heavy, so overflowing with love for this wounded, insecure boy that I couldn’t contain it all. So I put it in my lips. In my mouth and in my tongue and in my small gasp of surprise when Justin yanked my body flush against his.
I gave myself over to emotion, threading my fingers through his thick, dark hair. Deepening the kiss and tangling my tongue with his. Dizzying desire whipped through my body, fogging my head with want, and settling in a warm pool of tingles in my belly. Goose bumps danced across my skin as the cool, crisp taste of mint exploded on my tongue.
“Baby…”
Wow. The word set off a flame in my blood. It was a claiming, every bit as much as his lips as they ravaged my mouth, taking over control, possessing me. And I wanted to be his. Completely, in every way I possibly could.
Justin was wrong before. I wasn’t strong or incredible. I wasn’t anything special. But he made me feel as though I was. If I’d learned anything living post-GBS, it was that life was short, and when you found happiness, you grabbed on with both hands and never let go. I had no intention of loosening my grip.
“Uh…” Justin groaned as he tore his lips from mine. “We can’t.” He pushed my hips back, but kept his hands clenched around my waist and leaned forward to brush another kiss against my swollen mouth. His heavy-lidded gaze fell on his handiwork. “Your dad… your whole family… they’ll see us. We have to…”
That he was so breathless over me was a thrill of its own. I grinned up at him, taunting his inner battle by raking my teeth across my bottom lip, and he swallowed hard before inching closer to the edge of the bench. Closer to me.
“We need to slow down.”
“No, we really don’t.” Setting my palms against his chest, I pressed my lips to his jaw. “No one ever comes back here but me.” He moaned as my lips traveled higher, closer to his ear, and he tugged me back between his legs. “Besides, they’re too busy with my grandparents to—”
“Peyton!” At my father’s disembodied voice calling from a not too far distance, Justin’s eyes grew wide with fear. “Justin! Where are you, son? Jesse wants to watch you catch.”
There goes that plan.
Sighing the sigh of the sexually frustrated, I bowed my head and stepped out of the warmth of Justin’s arms. “We’ll finish this later,” I promised. Then, with a final nip of his lips, I called back, “Coming!”
When Justin didn’t immediately follow, I turned back in confusion. “I think I need a minute,” he told me with me a rueful smile. I frowned in confusion and he sent a pointed look toward his lap. “Tell your dad I’ll be right out.”
What the… Oh. “Sure!” A strange mix of pride and embarrassment flushed my cheeks, turning my face what had to be five shades of red and I stuttered, “T-take your time. Really. However long you need. You know. Until things get, uh, back to normal.”
Justin chuckled at my inane mutterings, and I quickly spun on my heel, heading back toward the main house before I could say anything more idiotic. Could I possibly be a bigger virginal nitwit? But, make-out-newb or not, as I rapped on the post outside Oakley’s door and waltzed out the barn, there was no fighting my Cheshire-cat-like grin.
WEDNESDAY, MAY 28TH
1 Week until Graduation
♥Senior Year
PEYTON
SWEET SERENITY RANCH 5:10 P.M.
Walking back out onto the doghouse porch, I can’t help remembering that Easter all those years ago. What on earth possessed me to bring it up? We were having a good, mostly uncomfortable, innuendo-free time, and my brilliant self just had to go and throw that into the mix.
In times like this, I seriously con
sider wearing a muzzle.
Sure, the thought of Justin being alone again for another holiday hit me solid in the chest, and I reacted purely out of instinct, wanting to make him smile. But the truth is, he’s probably spent every holiday alone since our breakup. And that… God… that sucks.
“Hey.” Metal chains clank together in a funky melody as Justin stands up from the porch swing. My gaze falls to his sling and an unwanted shiver racks my spine. I was so scared… “All set?”
“Yep.” I shove my hands in my back pockets and direct my gaze toward the grass. A midnight blue extended pick-up roars to life and the owner, Mr. Hamilton, waves a goodbye. “Sparky’s eating a pig’s ear in her deluxe accommodations as we speak,” I say, watching the truck’s taillights disappear down the worn path.
Cade has a truck similar to Mr. Hamilton’s. Dark blue, lots of room to store and transport ranch equipment. He loves that truck. Even though his parents are well-off, Cade worked his fingers to the bone, taking extra shifts and saving every penny he made so he could buy it himself. I’ll never forget the pride in his eyes the day he cut the check to the dealership.
A fresh wave of guilt comes with the memory.
How can I even think about that Easter? I have a boyfriend—an incredible boyfriend—who, yeah, has been getting on my nerves a bit lately, and his jealous comments aren’t exactly attractive… but obviously, his feelings are justified. If our relationship was as solid as it should be, as I used to think it was, memories like that spring night wouldn’t keep popping up. And Cade wouldn’t feel so threatened.
So really, this is all my fault. Surprise, surprise.
“You okay?”
Justin touches my elbow to gain my attention, and electricity shoots up my arm.
Cade, Cade, CADE.
“Yeah,” I say, twisting slightly away from the touch. Ignoring the way his eyes darken. “Just thinking is all.”
Justin shifts back on his feet and studies me. Either he reads my thoughts or decides against asking because instead of pushing for details, he says, “Guess it’s time for our experiment.”
Huh? “What experiment?”
A small smile forms on his lips but he doesn’t answer as he walks past me silently, down the porch steps and back out toward the barn. Since I want answers, I have no choice but to follow.
As I rush to catch up, I remember him saying something about an experiment once we finished our FACS assignment. We’d been talking about riding just before then… oh crap.
When I’m still a few steps behind, he says over his shoulder, “Tell me what went through your head while you were riding Oakley.”
I groan, realizing exactly what the so-called experiment is about, and he glances at me with an apology in his eyes. “You said you didn’t make it past the first barrel, but I’m curious what you felt before that? When you walked Oakley out on the course.”
My insides squeeze painfully as I mentally step back onto the barrel racing course. “I don’t know… nervous, I guess. Curious if things would magically be different this time. Mostly doubting they would be. But, you know, for a split-second there,” I shake my head and huff a humorless laugh, “I actually fooled myself into thinking they might.”
Justin frowns at this and pulls me to a stop just inside the entrance to the barn. He blinks to adjust his eyes to the dim lighting, then leans a shoulder against the beam. “What changed?”
I shrug. “I mean, at first it felt great. It felt like it used to. The wind whipping my hair, Oakley’s hooves pounding the earth—it brought back every memory of every race we’d ever done together. But then…” I swallow down the rising panic. “The memories, the bad ones, got to be too much. I lost control, let the fear win over, and I flat out freaked.” Shame and weakness saturate my skin as I close my eyes and relieve the sensation of failure. “It was a complete disaster.”
“Was anyone with you?” His voice is so soft that I open my eyes, finding his filled with compassion. I shake my head, once, and he asks, “Not even Cade?”
“Not watching, no. I didn’t want anyone to see,” I confess, humiliation burning my cheeks. Oh, how I loathe my fair skin. “If I let everyone down again, and I knew I would, I couldn’t—”
“See, right there,” he interrupts, and I jerk my head back. “Sunshine, you didn’t have a prayer. From the second you entered that course, you were already defeated. You can’t do that—you have to believe in here,” he moves close and brushes two fingers across my heart, “and in here,” he says moving them over my temple and keeping them there, “that you will succeed. That you have what it takes. You’ve done it before, it’s all muscle memory by now. Oakley knows what’s what. But until you believe it yourself, push past that fear and doubt, you’ll never do it.”
Justin’s palm gently cups to cradle my cheek as he stares into my eyes. His golden brown irises are intense with emotion, more than I ever remember seeing before. “Victory starts in your head, Peyton. You know that.”
As an athlete, Justin’s heard a million pep talks, most of them probably from my dad. But this seems to go so much deeper than that. I can’t help but wonder if perhaps, with his recent injury, this speech of his is as much for him as it is for me.
“You also did it alone,” he scolds, ducking his chin and raising a sharp eyebrow, reminding me of Mama when she’s in über-serious mode. I bite the flesh of my cheek to hide my smile. “When are you going to see that you’re surrounded by people who want to help? Who love and care about you?” Any comment I would’ve made flies right out of my head when his thumb begins tracing the shell of my ear. “You might not want to hear it, but I’m one of them.”
This is when you should push him away.
Instead, my hands find their way to the soft cotton of his T-shirt and grip.
Justin takes another step closer and places his hands on either side of my head, caging me in against the wall. “Next time you do something huge like this, or even something small, I want you to call me, okay? You have to know I’ll always come running. You snap your pretty little fingers,” he says and a click sounds near my ear, “and I’m here. Just like that.”
My chest rises and falls with increased breaths and I shift my gaze between his eyes. Is he serious? Up until a couple weeks ago, we didn’t even make eye contact, we avoided each other for years… and now I’m supposed to call him? Trust him to help me?
But then, a lot has changed in two short weeks.
Slowly, sneakily, in ways I didn’t always catch, but happened regardless, things shifted. My defenses toppled, the wall I thought I’d built so high in order to keep from getting hurt again: obliterated. Justin bulldozed his way right through every obstacle I lay in his path—almost as if they never existed.
“Stop overthinking it, Sunshine,” he murmurs. His fingertips caress my cheek as he slides a strand of hair behind my ear. Tingles shoot across my scalp. “I see those wheels turning. You’re just gonna have to accept that we’ll be together again one day. Once you stop fighting it so hard, you’ll see what I see.”
I lick my dry lips and ask, “And what do you see?” though my voice is suddenly so breathless I doubt he understands me. Somehow, he must, because his smile grows.
“Inevitability,” he replies, and a rush of sensation curls through my body.
It begins at the nape of my neck, forcing my head back against the wood. It courses down my spine, straight through to my toes. Excitement, disbelief, a hint of anger, and an even stronger dose of an emotion I’m too afraid to name zings through me as my eyes lock on his. My rapid breaths bring with it the sweet scent of hay and the clean scent of boy—soap, a hint of mint, and Justin. He has an intoxicating scent all his own. It was once my addiction.
Our mouths hover just a hairsbreadth apart, and every instinct, every desire screams at me to close the gap. Just as I concede the fight, a screen door slams in the distance. I squeeze my eyes shut.
This is wrong. So wrong. Even having this conversation is wr
ong. It’s not fair to Cade, and the emotions Justin’s words have stirred within me make me feel as guilty as if I’d actually done the deed. Cade has been my rock for so long, and Justin… he destroyed me freshman year.
Why do I keep forgetting that?
When a cool rush of air replaces the heat of his body, my eyes snap open. Justin is standing a few feet away, his face a mask of calm, collected, confidence—and he’s wearing a smirk like he’d just won a freaking Championship.
“But for now, what do you say we get you up on that horse?”
I swear, it’s enough to give a girl whiplash. But, he is giving me an out from the conversation, and, like it or not, I do need his help if I want to save our ranch. So, ignoring the hand Justin holds out to me, I nod and waltz past him.
“We can try,” I reply, ignoring the possible double meaning to his words.
It’s not truly until Oakley’s ready and it’s time to head out for the course that nerves explode in my stomach. What if Justin can’t help? What if the same exact thing that happened last time happens again? A repeat may just break me.
“Hop on,” Justin instructs with a tap of his fingers on the saddle. “I’ll walk you out.”
My body freezes with one boot in the stirrup. “You’re not going anywhere… are you?”
He smiles gently. “No, Sunshine, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here until you kick my ass to the curb. But let’s take this one step at a time, all right?”
I nod, swallowing hard, and swing my other leg over Oakley. Gripping her with my knees, I lean down and lay my cheek against her chestnut mane. “We’ve got this.” She whinnies softly in reply and I say, “Forget about last time. Or the time before that,” I add, stopping that flashback before it can even begin. “Today’s a new day.”
Please, Lord, let it be a successful new day.
As Justin begins leading us outside, I go through a mental checklist of what I need to do. It’s heartbreaking in so many ways—what used to feel as natural as breathing, and every bit as necessary, has somehow turned into this… an obstacle to conquer. As we approach the barrels, I almost can’t bring myself to look at them, but eventually I do. I can’t let the fear win out this round. Not with Justin’s too perceptive gaze so hot on my left cheek.
The Natural History of Us Page 17