Damaged (Damaged Series Book 1)

by J. Benson

  He paused for a moment. "You're sweet, and you don't care about having the latest pair of jeans or five million pairs of shoes. You're not a bottle-blonde willing to do anything to make people like you. You're beautiful without even trying."

  I sunk my teeth into my lower lip. "I think that's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me." I mused.

  "Well, yeah. All that stuff, and you're hot." He said with a teasing grin.

  I laughed and playfully shoved him.

  "Seriously. You are beautiful without even trying. You don't need to try. You're beautiful without boat-loads of make-up and hair spray." He reached across the front seat and lightly brushed my cheek with the back of his fingers.

  I felt a blush rise in my cheeks.

  He leaned across the center console and lightly brushed his lips against mine. I leaned closer to him, and the kiss deepened slightly. His lips danced across mine gently. My breath caught in my throat and for a few brief moments, I forgot to breathe.

  He slowly broke the kiss and I eventually remembered to breathe again. He smiled at me.

  "I should get you home, Emma. It's getting late, and it's not getting any warmer." He mused. He lightly dropped his hand onto my knee and lightly rubbed my thigh just above the knee. "You're freezing, Emma." He mused.

  I nodded. "Yeah, you're right. It is getting kind of late... and your curfew is in twenty minutes." I teased. I picked up his hand and interlaced his fingers with mine.

  He grinned, picking up my hand and lightly kissing the back. He shifted his car into reverse and did a sloppy turn out of the parking lot. He started back toward my grandmother's street.

  A large part of me didn't want the night to end.

  I finished the last of my cup of tea, and placed my empty cup in the cup holder.

  Taylor pulled into my grandmother's driveway, and turned the car off.

  I chewed my lip. I didn't want our amazing night to end, but he was due home for his curfew. A part of me envied him for having a curfew. It meant that his parents loved him and were involved enough to make sure he got in the house at a reasonable hour. I never had a curfew in New York City because my dad got sick and there was nowhere else I wanted to be than by his side. I didn't need a curfew.

  On the other hand, I was glad my grandmother trusted me to be grown up and adult enough to make my own rational decisions about what time to be home.

  "What are you thinking about?" Taylor asked suddenly.

  "Curfew." I said with a small smile. "Kind of silly."

  "No, it's not." He reached across and took my hand in his, interlacing our fingers together. "What about curfew is bothering you? Is it my curfew?"

  "No, no." I shook my head. "I was just thinking that I never had a curfew. And grandma says I don't need one because I'm mature and responsible... but I almost envy you."

  "Really?" Taylor laughed. "That's a new one."

  "I mean your parents love you. They love you enough to completely not trust you. They expect you to make foolish mistakes and be irresponsible. By now it's just assumed that I've been through so much I'm more mature."

  "Emma, I'm sure your parents love you too. Just because your father isn't here anymore and your mother has her own issues... it doesn't mean they love you any less... and if you want a curfew so bad, I can go in and talk to your grandmother-"

  "Let's not do anything rash." I interrupted.

  Taylor chuckled. "Well, speaking of curfew, I should probably let you get inside, so I can make it home before my parents tear me a new one..."

  "Right." I mused.

  Taylor leaned across the front seat and kissed me. The kiss began like the last; soft and deliberate, but before long our kisses deepened. My hands would their way into his hair, and his arms moved around me, inching my body as close as he could with the center console in the way.

  When the kiss broke, we were both breathless, and his hair was sticking up in several different directions. He rested his forehead against mine and swallowed thickly. I wanted to kiss him again.

  "I should go." He whispered.

  I nodded. "Yeah."

  Neither of us made an attempt to move.

  He leaned toward me and lightly kissed me again. I moved my arms around his neck, eagerly returning his kisses. I pulled away slowly when I realized I could no longer breathe properly or think clearly.

  "Now I should go." I said, lightly chewing my lower lip.

  He nodded.

  "I'll see you tomorrow." I said softly.

  Taylor grinned. "I look forward to it."

  I leaned across the front seat and lightly kissed his cheek. "Good night."

  "Night." He smiled.

  He waited in the driveway until I unlocked the door and stepped inside. I shut the front door behind me and leaned heavily against it. I sighed dreamily.

  Grandma appeared from the kitchen, wearing her pajamas and a housecoat knotted around her waist. I was surprised she was still awake. "So, how was your date?"

  "Amazing." I breathed, blissfully.

  Grandma nodded. "Excellent. I'll boil the kettle for tea, you change out of that dress and we'll sit down and you can tell me all about it." She insisted.

  Chapter 41:

  Babysitting

  I parked my car in the unusually empty driveway. The first time I had arrived at Taylor's house, the driveway had resembled the parking lot of a grocery store; the way in which cars littered the drive, it was completely unlike a single family household.

  However, today, there were merely two cars left in the driveway. There was a dark blue pick-up truck—which I knew was Taylor's brother’s vehicle, and Taylor's black car. Though neither car were new, my beat up, rusty Oldsmobile seemed out of place in comparison. Both of Taylor’s parent’s cars were gone.

  I climbed out of the driver's seat and as I walked around the front of the car, an involuntary smile crossed my face. Taylor's younger siblings Stephen and Ava were busy fashioning a crude snowman in the front yard.

  I remembered being their age and begging my parents to move out of the city so I could make my own snowman. My father had taken me to a nearby park and shown me how to make my own. It was one of the first and only happy memories I had of my father. I remembered not being strong enough to lift the pieces together, and my dad had to help me. I remembered him picking me up so I could put the carrot nose on. We'd given him a name, but I couldn't remember what it was.

  Ava reminded me of a younger version of myself; except she was much better at making a snowman than I ever was and I had never had a younger brother toddling along behind me; looking like he could barely move at all in his snowsuit.

  "Emma!" Ava squealed. She came running across the yard and threw herself into my arms.

  "Hi!" I laughed, easily catching her in my arms. I embraced her lightly.

  "Are you going to help Tay-bear look after us?" She asked eagerly. She took my hand in hers, even though her mittens made it difficult. We walked across the front lawn together.

  I laughed at the nickname. "I think so." I released her hand.

  "Emma!" Stephen cried, and hugged me tightly, mimicking his sister. "Come and play with us!" He urged loudly.

  The front door opened and Taylor appeared, holding his youngest sister balanced on his hip. "Guys, dinner is almost ready. Time to come in." He announced.

  "Five more minutes?" Ava asked.

  "Okay, five more minutes." He smiled. "But let Emma come inside, okay?"

  "Will you play with us later?" Ava asked.

  I smiled. "Of course I will."

  Leaving Ava and Stephen in the front yard I followed Taylor to the front door. I stepped inside and as he shut the door behind me, I began removing my scarf and jacket.

  "Hi," I smiled.

  "Hey," He grinned. "Are you sure you don't mind helping me babysit?"

  "I don't mind." I forced a smile.

  "Good." He smiled, leaning toward me and lightly kissing my lips.

  I felt myself blush f
aintly, and I glanced toward Zoey. I was somewhat embarrassed to be kissing Taylor in front of his youngest sister. She was completely oblivious, studying her plastic giraffe with surprising intensity. She decided in the end to put the giraffe's nose in her mouth and chew it.

  I hung my coat up in the closet and turned back to Taylor. "So, where is everyone again?"

  "My parents are at some work party thing. A retirement party or something probably equally as boring... Ethan is at his girlfriend's house. He took dad’s car to try and impress her. Seth is at his friend Jeffery's house. Jessa is sleeping over at her friend Leah's house, so it's just us with the little ones. I hope you don't mind, but I made macaroni and cheese for dinner. They love my mac and cheese." He grinned.

  I laughed softly. "How do you keep it all straight?"

  He shrugged. "It's easy if you're used to it."

  Uncharacteristically, Zoey reached for me. "Up!" She cried.

  I took a step back in shock. I wasn't expecting her to be talking yet; and the clarity and urgency of her voice shocked me. I gaped at her in disbelief. Her large eyes never left mine, her hands reached toward me, her chubby little fists opening and closing.

  "Up!" She repeated insistently.

  "Do you want to hold her?" Taylor offered, trying to keep her from squirming on his hip. "I think she likes you..."

  "I um... Well, I don't have a lot of experience... I'm really not that good with kids... I've never even held a baby before..." I rambled quickly.

  He chuckled. "She's not a baby. She's two. She pretty much supports herself. You just kind of keep her balanced." Taylor shrugged.

  "I don't know..." I began. "I'm kind of scared."

  "It's alright. You're just holding her..." He smiled. "You'll do fine."

  "But I've never even held a kid before..." I protested. Zoey was still reaching for me.

  "There's a first time for everything." Taylor was shockingly calm.

  I nodded stiffly, and held out my hands. I slid my hands under her arms and lifted her from his hip. I held her awkwardly away from my body. I stared into her cute, chubby little face, waiting for her to begin wailing. An expression of discomfort and confusion crossed her face as she stared right back at me with surprising intelligence. She blinked at me.

  Taylor was laughing. "You can do better than that! Hold her closer to your body, like you're hugging her..."

  "Umm...." I began.

  "Here." He moved her arms around my neck, where she latched on tightly, hooking her legs around my side, tightly. She managed to balance herself on my hip. He was right, I barely had to support her; she was like a monkey or a squid latched onto an inanimate object. I just had to keep her balanced so she didn't fall. I kept my arms protectively around her, terrified I might accidentally drop her.

  "Oh." I said in surprise.

  "Better?" Taylor asked.

  I nodded slowly. "I think so..."

  "Down!" the child shouted, almost in my ear. I was all too eager to put her down. She squirmed out of my arms, and I felt like I was going to drop her, but once she was on her feet she took off running to the sofa.

  "Wow, no offense, Emma. But you suck at this." He teased. "You've never babysat? Never?" Taylor questioned with his hands on his hips.

  "No. I've never been that close to a two year old before." I admitted. "You're so natural with her..."

  "Years and years of practice. Come on, I'll show you." He led the way into the kitchen, and surprisingly, the table was set, and dinner was already on the stove.

  "Is there anything I can help with?" I offered. "I um... have to admit, though... I can't cook."

  He shrugged. "It's just macaroni and cheese. It's not really cooking."

  I gaped at him for a moment.

  My expression made him laugh. "Not even mac and cheese?"

  "No." I admitted. "I tried last week at my grandmother's house... I followed the directions on the box and I still scalded it to the pan and..." I trailed off.

  "And?" He prompted.

  "And I may or may not have set the oven mitts on fire." I admitted in embarrassment.

  He laughed, a little too hard. I felt my cheeks flush. "You know I would be careful who you laugh at, Tay-bear..." I teased.

  His grin immediately faded away. "Shit, I warned them not to call me that. I even bribed them--told them I would make their favorite food and would let them stay up an hour later..." He sighed.

  I smirked. "Sorry, I just thought it was really cute."

  We were interrupted by his siblings banging into the house with more noise than I would have thought possible for two kids. "Tay! Help!" one of them called.

  He smiled. "Can you help me? Can you stir this?"

  "Uhh..." I began hesitantly.

  "It's easy. Just stir the pot." He smirked, he held out a wooden spoon to me.

  I took the wooden spoon and stirred cautiously. I turned back for approval, but he was already gone. I had no idea what I was doing, but before long, he appeared in the kitchen behind the three younger kids.

  He easily lifted Zoey into her high chair and the other two slipped into their respective chairs.

  "I thought you said dinner was ready!" Ava pouted.

  I smiled. She reminded me of him in too many ways.

  "Tay!" Stephen whined. "You said we could have chocolate milk!" He pointed to his plastic cup.

  "Sorry, buddy. I'll make you some chocolate milk." He opened the pantry and removed a bottle of chocolate syrup.

  "I'll do it... you'd better take over before I burn dinner." I smiled.

  "Are you sure?" He questioned.

  "Positive. Chocolate milk is one thing I can't screw up."

  He laughed, handing me the chocolate syrup and Stephen's plastic cup of milk.

  Taylor had finished the mac and cheese in record timing, and before I knew it, he was practically ordering me to sit for dinner.

  He circled the table spooning macaroni into everyone's dish. When he spooned the pasta into the kid's plate, he made sound effects with his mouth that were beyond adorable. He placed a heaping pile of food on my plate that I knew I would never be able to eat. He more than doubled the amount on his own plate.

  He put the empty pot back on the stove and sat down between Zoey and me.I peered at the child who was already sinking her hands into her bowl of pasta and seemed to be more intent to play with the macaroni than to eat it. She babbled contentedly, squeezing the elbow macaroni between her fingers.

  "Is she okay eating that?" I asked curiously. I knew nothing about babies or their eating habits.

  "She's two and she has teeth." Taylor laughed. "Keep your fingers away from her mouth, you might lose one." He warned.

  I smiled. "Sorry. I don't know anything about babies..."

  "That's okay. She's at the stage where she's eating soft foods and learning to chew them... my mom is trying to teach her to use a spoon, but it isn't going well."

  I smiled. She looked like she was enjoying herself at least.

  I glanced around the table, seeing that Ava was expertly using a spoon to feed herself. I knew she was old enough and mature enough to feed herself, but her dexterity and focus was adorable. Stephen was covering his macaroni with ketchup, and managed to spill a few drops on the table in front of him. He had somehow even managed to get a piece of macaroni in his pretty curls.

  "Easy on the ketchup there, buddy." Taylor warned him. He took the bottle that Stephen handed him and offered it to me.

  "No, thank you." I smiled politely, picking up my own spoon and trying Taylor's infamous macaroni and cheese. "Wow, you do make the best mac and cheese." I smiled.

  "I know." Taylor said smugly, grinning broadly.

  I laughed softly.

  Chapter 42:

  Helping Out

  Putting the kids to bed was much easier than I thought it would be. I expected to be completely useless when helping with the kids, but I managed to help in little ways. Taylor had put Zoey to bed earlier while I watched cartoo
ns with Ava and Stephen. I sat on the sofa with Stephen on one side and Ava on the other. Ava insisted we wrap up in her favorite pink and purple blanket, and the three of us snuggled together to watch cartoons.

  When it was their bedtime, Taylor carried an almost asleep Stephen up the stairs and I went with Ava. She insisted that she didn't need my help getting ready. She brushed her teeth on her own and changed into her own pajamas--though she managed to get the bottoms on backward. She was too cute for me to tell her that she had done anything other than a perfect job getting ready for bed.

  When she climbed into bed, she insisted I read to her. She chose a book from the stack on her nightstand and I diligently read it to her from cover to cover. The hidden child in me enjoyed the story enough to keep reading even after she had fallen asleep. She looked so beautiful and peaceful as she slept. I pulled her blankets up to her chin and left the room silently.

  Taylor was waiting for me in the hall, leaning against the opposite wall as I pulled the door closed behind me.

  "Well? How did you do?" He asked curiously.

  "She's asleep." I smiled triumphantly. "I read to her, a story about a monkey who is a princess."

  "That's definitely a good sign." He chuckled, moving an arm around my waist. "My parents won't be back for at least another couple of hours. What do you want to do? Do you want to watch TV?"

  "Sure." I agreed. I didn't care what we did, as long as we were together.

  "You don't have to be home at a certain time, do you?" He asked. "Your no-curfew rule still stands?"

  "No." I smiled. "Grandma trusts me. Besides, if she gave me a curfew I would have to impose one on her." I slipped my hand into his.

  He laughed.

  I followed him to the living room where the television was still on, but a blue screen was showing.