by J. A. Little
Logan gazes at it for a second before looking back up at me, and then at Kayla. “What is it?”
“Open it. It’s from me, Aiden, and Emily.”
Logan takes the tissue paper out and then the canvas bag. His eyes light up.
“Dude. No way.”
I feel Kayla’s hand grip mine under the table. I squeeze back for no other reason than I’m really fucking happy she’s touching me. Logan unzips the bag and grins.
“Holy shit! It’s mine?”
I nod. He runs his fingertips over the silver top of the brand-spanking-new laptop. Matty leans over to get a good look.
“Wow. That’s cool.”
“It’s for doing all that college work.”
Logan snorts. “You don’t leave a guy much choice, do you?”
“You’ve got too much potential, Logan,” I say firmly. “We’re giving you the opportunity. Don’t waste it.”
After lunch, we let Logan and Claire take off to spend some time together. I drop Matty back at the house, where he joins Edgar, Eric, and Curtis on the basketball court. Simon is just getting there. He looks hungover and smells like a brewery. Fucker.
“Rough night?” I don’t really care. I just want to make sure I’m not going to get called back.
“Fuck, man,” he grumbles. He must remember that he was supposed to be sick because he suddenly droops a little lower. “I still feel like shit.”
“Uh-huh. I’m heading out. I’ll be back Monday morning.”
“That girl must have you totally pussy whipped. But I can imagine why.” His lip curls up in a disgusting grin. I grit my teeth. He’s baiting me and I don’t want to go there with him.
“Good night, Simon.”
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Although, with a fine piece of ass like that, I’d pretty much do anything.”
It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to pop the motherfucker in the mouth, and his statement has grabbed the boys’ attention. After the way I was behaving this morning, they’re all waiting for me to do just that. I can’t—no matter how much I want to. I walk away without acknowledging a single word.
I drive slowly, trying to calm down again before I have to face my girl. When I get to the house, Kayla’s outside. She’s wearing short, white shorts and is bent over, picking weeds. I look around and see an old man sitting on his porch across the street, drinking a beer. His eyes are trained on Kayla. A couple houses down, a teenage boy seems to be washing the same spot on his car over and over again. He glances up and upon meeting my eyes, moves quickly to the other side.
I slam my car door, getting her attention, and she stands up. She’s covered in dirt from her knees down. It’s under her fingernails and smudged across her face. Her hair is pulled up but is all messy. She looks incredibly sexy.
“Oh, good. You’re just in time to mow the lawn,” she greets.
“Goodie,” I say flatly. “You know, you’re giving the neighbors quite a show.” I wrap my arms around her waist and dip her back so I can kiss her sweaty neck.
“Jealous?” she asks, her voice teasing.
“A little.” I pull her back up and give her tail a nice, firm squeeze. “This ass is mine.”
She laughs lightly and wiggles out of my grasp. I frown.
“You’ve just made that perfectly clear. Thank you. Come on. I need to get this stuff done before it rains.”
We spend the entire afternoon doing yard work before finally moving inside just as the first raindrops begin to fall. If I thought we were done, though, I was wrong. After doing three loads of laundry, changing the sheets, vacuuming, and disinfecting every possible surface, I’m beginning to think she’s avoiding talking to me.
“Are we gonna talk?” I ask, pulling a beer out of the fridge as Kayla chops peppers and onions to make a chicken stir-fry.
“Yes,” she answers as though she were waiting for me to ask. I lean against the counter next to her.
“What’s going on?”
She stops what she’s doing and turns to face me. “I don’t want you to freak out.”
I take another swig of beer, ignoring the fact that my heart is thundering in my ears. The possibilities of what she’s going to say are killing me. “Okay.”
“Uh… I… Um… I don’t know why this is so hard.”
“Are you pregnant?” I blurt out. Kayla looks at me blankly.
“No. Jesus. No.” She frowns. “You thought I was pregnant?”
“I don’t know what I thought. You sent me this cryptic text last night telling me we needed to talk and today you’ve been doing everything but.”
She moves to stand in front of me, blowing out a huge breath of air. “I had a really long talk with Karen last night. About us. I’ve never had a mother to talk about relationships with and when you said you wanted more, it made me think. And this is probably the worst possible way I could ever do this, but every time I get ready to, I chicken out, so it’s better that I just say it.”
“For fuck’s sake, Kayla. If you don’t want to be with me anymore, just fucking tell me,” I snap. “I’m a big boy. I can handle it. Trust me.”
Her mouth gapes. Her lower lip is trembling slightly. “That’s not what I was going to say,” she says. “I want to be with you.”
“Then what’s the matter?” I groan.
“Uh…” She looks down.
“Kayla!”
“I’m in love with you.” The words are soft and unsure. I wasn’t expecting that. I have no idea what to say. I’m stunned into silence. “I have been for awhile, but I was afraid you would end things if you knew. I knew you weren’t ready.”
I wasn’t ready. I didn’t know that I would ever be ready. Before Kayla, Steph was the only girl to ever say those words to me and look how that ended.
“I don’t want to lose you, but I can’t not say it anymore.”
But…
“I love you, Dean.”
But…
“And I don’t expect you to say it back or feel the same. That’s perfectly fine. I know you’ve been through a lot. I’m just begging you not to leave like before because you make me happy, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
But the look on her face—in her eyes—this is different. She’s not Steph, and I’m not that naïve teenage boy anymore. And I think I love her, too. But the words won’t come out of my mouth.
“Please say something.” Her eyes are glassy, and I realize that I’ve been standing here staring at her like a dickhead since she started talking. I shake my head to clear it. The last thing either of us needs is for me to speak without thinking like I usually do.
I pull her to me and wrap her in my arms. I take a few deep breaths. “I told you, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter 58
Kayla
I wish I could say that all my fears and anxiety disappear the moment he wraps his arms around me, but I can’t. If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that Dean is a complicated individual. He seems to be okay with my declaration, but I still worry. His heart beating hard in his chest tells me he’s more scared than he’s admitting.
“I know you did. I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?” he asks, confusion evident in his voice.
“I don’t know,” I whimper, my mouth pressed against his chest. We stand there for a few more minutes before we’re interrupted by the sound of his stomach growling loudly. “Dinner.” I chuckle.
I pull away and feel Dean’s hand on my upper arm, just above my elbow. His eyes linger on my face. No, he didn’t say it back, but I feel it when he looks at me like this. And for now, that’s all I need.
He helps me finish cooking dinner, and we eat without talking much. This is what we do when things get a little too intense. It’ll pass, I know that—and it does. Afterward, I change into a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top. We settle in on the couch and put on a movie. I’m not really paying attention to it because Dean’s fingertip
s are trailing up and down my leg, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. He looks down with a cheeky grin.
“Are you cold?”
“No.” I shake my head from side to side. “I’m actually very warm.”
His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, and I feel myself beginning to ache in all the right places. His eyes dart up to mine as his hand moves higher.
“Why don’t you come a little closer?” he says in the rich, seductive voice I know all too well.
“Why?” I ask coyly.
“Because I want you to.”
“Aw,” I tease. “You want?” He growls and, with cat-like reflexes, grabs me and pulls me into his lap. I adjust myself so that I’m straddling him. “You don’t play fair.”
“We’ve established that.” He smirks and takes my lower lip between his teeth. His hands roam over my bare legs, under my shorts, and his nails rake across my bottom. My bare bottom. He stops and pulls back. I grin as innocently as I can. “Neither do you, apparently.” He puts his mouth on my neck. My skin is flaming hot now. He sucks a little harder than he needs to.
I arch my back slightly, pushing my breasts toward his face. Partly because I don’t want a huge purple hickey on my neck, and partly because I want his attention a little lower. He obliges, and his kisses trail across my collarbone and down, over the fabric of my shirt. My nipples are hard and he grazes them gently through the cotton with his teeth. His hands are on my lower body, caressing every inch of available skin while I rock into him. We both know we’re not going to have sex on the couch, especially since we’re waiting for Claire to get home, but touching and feeling each other is just what we need.
We make out for half the movie before slowing it down. Eventually, I climb off him and end up lying down, my head in his lap, his hands trailing through my hair. I doze off and on until we hear a car in the driveway. I sit up, but five minutes later, Claire still hasn’t come in.
“Maybe it wasn’t them,” I say, standing up. Dean pulls me back.
“It was them. I don’t think you want to look out that window right now.”
“Why?” I ask, my mind befuddled with exhaustion.
“If you and I were younger and you still lived with your parents and I’d brought you home from a date on my birthday, what would we be doing out in the car right now?” I take a moment to consider what he’s saying.
“Oh! Shit!” I jump up, but he doesn’t let me get far.
“Kayla,” he chuckles. “Relax.”
“Relax?”
“Yeah, relax. I was kidding. They’re not going at it in your driveway, there’s—”
At that moment, the door opens and Claire comes in.
“Hi,” she says happily. I look over at Dean, and he winks at me.
“Not enough time,” he mouths. I backhand him in the chest, and he snickers.
“Hi,” I return. “Did you have fun?”
She bites her lip and nods. “Yes. I like Logan’s friends better than mine.”
“Ironic, isn’t it?” I snort. “Have you eaten?”
She nods. “We got pizza at the bowling alley. I’m going to bed. I’m so tired.”
“Okay. Sleep tight, sweetie.”
She starts to walk away and then stops. “Kayla?”
“Hmm?”
“Thanks. For everything.”
I smile at her. “You’re welcome. I love you.”
“I love you, too. Good night, Dean.” She teasingly sings this last part. Dean grins, letting out an amused breath through his nose.
“Night.”
When she’s gone, Dean puts his arm around me. I lean my head into his shoulder and thread my fingers through his. I feel his lips on the top of my head. We watch the rest of the movie. All I really want to do is climb into bed and wrap myself up in Dean, but he stays firmly planted on the couch. I don’t think he’s paying attention to the movie, either, though. When I glance up at him, his eyes are fixed and glazed over, like he’s thinking really hard. When the credits begin to roll, I stand up.
“I need to take a shower,” I tell him.
“Okay,” he says without getting up. I sigh. He’s in his own little world. I suppose I need to leave him there until he’s ready to come out on his own. I worry I’ve set him back by admitting my feelings, but I can’t find it in myself to regret it.
I was nearly in tears last night when Karen called. After Andy called to tell me that the state had taken temporary guardianship of Claire, he also informed me that there were no charges pending against Richard for domestic violence involving my mom. She hadn’t pressed charges. And worse, Richard had made immediate bail. He was going to get away with it. I choked back the emotion the best I could, but I failed, and she caught me.
We arrive at Karen’s and, after giving me a hug, she moves to greet Claire but pulls back.
“What on God’s green earth happened to you?” she gasps, looking at my little sister. Claire averts her eyes. “Oh, honey, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“It’s okay,” Claire murmurs.
Karen looks over at me, but all I can give her is a tight-lipped half smile.
“Let’s go sit down,” she suggests. “Brian’s at the liquor store, but he should be home soon. Can I get you anything?”
Claire asks for some water, and I offer to get it to give them a little time alone. I take my time, cleaning up where I can and flipping through some of Karen’s cooking magazines. Just as I run out of distractions, my dad walks in through the door from the garage, carrying a brown paper bag.
“Hey, kiddo.” He smiles and sets down the bag, the bottles inside clinking loudly.
“Hi, Dad. You have wine?”
He chuckles and pulls out a bottle of red. “Just for you, honey. What’s going on?”
I give my dad a brief summary of the situation with Claire. He scowls, narrowing his eyes and gritting his teeth when I tell him about Richard. “Has he been abusing your mother?” he bites out. I nod. “For how long?”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “Claire said at least a couple of years. I didn’t know, Dad, I swear.”
“It’s not your fault.” He puts his hand on my shoulder. And then I watch his eyes darken as if something is suddenly occurring to him. “Has he ever hit you?”
“He was an asshole, but he never actually hit me, no.” My dad studies me intently, probably looking for any sign that I’m lying. Luckily, I’m not.
“And Celia did nothing?” I sigh. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him, but he was going to find out eventually. “Claire’s not going back there, right?” he says firmly.
“I’m going to do everything I can to make sure she doesn’t.”
My dad takes a long pull of his beer. “Good. Are you sure you want to take this on? Teenage girls are a lot of work.” He smiles at me. I smile back.
“I’m sure. We’ll be fine.”
“Okay.” He nods. “If you need anything, you let me know, okay?”
I hug him tightly. “I will, Daddy. Thank you.”
A couple minutes later, we make our way to the living room. Karen is cradling a teary Claire in her arms, smoothing her hair back and whispering comforting words. I hand Claire her water and sit down.
“So tell me about this Logan,” Karen says, smiling. Claire’s cheeks flush pink. “Is he cute?” I laugh and watched as the pink turns to red and creeps up to her ears.
She nods. “Yes.”
It takes a few minutes for Claire to open up, but once she does, the words came pouring out. She talks about how sweet and amazing Logan is. How he opens doors and is so polite. I gawk at her, wondering if she’s talking about the same smart-mouthed teenager I’ve been working with for seven years.
I hold my tongue about Logan’s situation. I’m not going to take another chance at breaking confidentiality. Fortunately, I don’t have to. Claire talks about how he’s opened up with her about his life in foster care and how worried he is about not being able to take care of her and the
baby because he never had a father and doesn’t know what one is supposed to do. Hearing this hits me harder than I would have expected.
“But he’s taken care of his little brother, Matty, his whole life, and I keep telling him he’s going to be an amazing dad. He doesn’t think so. He feels like he’s messed up with Matty, dragging him from placement to placement. Now he’s at Wyatt House, which is a great place, but he thinks he should have let Matty be adopted.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Dad interrupts. “Wyatt House?” He looks over at me. I shove my thumbnail into my mouth.
“They’re both still in my caseload. I can’t really talk about it right now.”
“Both in your caseload?” My dad gapes.
“Yeah. Long story. Don’t ask, please.”
Karen doesn’t look as surprised, so I guess Claire told her how she and Logan met.
“Was I not supposed to say anything?” Claire asks, wrinkling her nose.
“No. You’re fine. I just can’t say anything about their case.”
“Oh. But I can talk about them?” I chuckle and nod. “I’m supposed to meet Matty tomorrow,” Claire continues. “I think he’s gonna hate me.”
“Why?” Karen asks.
Claire looks down at her glass of water and shrugs. “I just think he will.”
My stepmother puts her hand over my little sister’s and smiles. “I think as long as you are yourself, he will love you. Just like the rest of us.”
After dinner, Claire helps my dad clear away the dishes.
“Karen, can I talk to you?” I ask before she has a chance to get up.
“Sure, honey. What’s going on?”
“I need some advice.”
“Okay,” she says, folding her hands in front of her. “Shoot.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay, so, you know that Dean and I are, uh…”
“A couple.”
“Yeah. Um, except, we haven’t really put a label on what we are. We just…are.” I shrug. “But the other night, he said he wanted more.”
“And you don’t?”
“No, I do,” I hurry out. Karen looks at me in confusion. “Dean has a lot of baggage,” I sigh. “He got into some trouble when he was a kid. Got sent to juvenile detention. When he got out, he made some bad decisions.”