“Why is it,” I ask, “of all people I could have talked about this with, it was you I chose?” I look at him, shaking my head. “I don’t understand it.”
He takes my hand in both of his, turns my palm up with one, and traces his fingers in the middle of it with the other.
“There’s strength in vulnerability. In opening yourself to someone else and letting them in, in letting them see you as you are without walls or masks or any of the social niceties people seem to be so fond of. And all the crap people use to create barriers where there should be none.”
He looks at me, waiting to make sure I get what he’s saying.
“Will you let me in, River? Will you keep the walls down and open for me? Not just today, not just right now, but tomorrow and the day after as well?”
My chest fills with a deep breath. We’re having a moment here. A moment where we’re not trying to lash at each other or provoke a reaction. A moment of openness. I feel vulnerable. I’ve had my heart on lockdown for so long and Liam got past all those walls and doors and locks without my even realizing.
If I let him in, he’ll have the power to break me. To break me even more than Jon did. Can I take the risk? Can I allow myself to fall in love with him? Is this even what he’s asking me?
That little nagging voice in my mind speaks, ‘You’re already half in love with him, you fool.’
Tears run down my face without my permission and he wipes them away with his fingers, a touch so gentle, if I hadn’t watched his hands do it, I might have thought it was my imagination.
“Why am I crying?”
“Sometimes our eyes cry before our hearts and souls know we need to.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
I watch the last of her tears dry on her face. Liquid pain, expelled from her body. I watch as her walls crumble and fall, one by one, and the River I see inside is brighter than the sun. This River with no barriers or attitude is tender and gentle. I love it. I love the tough and scary River too. I love all of her parts; all of her quirks and I even love that mean streak she has. But right now, none of it is present. Just River, as she once was, long ago before the world touched her and taught her she needed to hide her real self behind an attitude and guard her too kind heart. I wonder when it first happened. When disappointment touched her and left a mark.
What was it that first drove her inside? I might never know. She probably doesn’t remember it herself. Do any of us?
Does anyone remember the very first thing that broke their heart?
That hurt so deep, it left a mark? I don’t think so. And it’s probably a good thing.
I push a lock of hair behind her ear and she turns her face into my hand. This is River giving in.
Opening for me.
Letting me inside.
I will not take this gift for granted. I will not break this trust.
I know there will be no second chances.
Chapter Thirty-Five
He leans in and kisses my forehead, his lips touching my skin for a long time. His hand is gentle on the back of my head. Then he pulls back. He brings me with him and settles me on his lap. He doesn’t say anything else or ask questions, just holds me tenderly and nuzzles my head with his lips, kissing my hair every so often. I relax against him, my body molding to the shape of his. I can feel the heat of his skin, smell the scent of him, his chest moving with each breath. There’s nothing sexual about it. It’s comforting, and it surprises me. My eyes go heavy and close without my permission.
When I come to, the first thing I realize is that I must have fallen asleep. Not unheard of. I’ve taken a nap or two after classes before. The second thing I realize is that I’m not on my bed. Or the couch. Nope. Memory of what happened before I fell sleep is slow to break through the fog, but when it does, I know it. I’m on Liam’s lap still. I have no idea how long I slept. I’m in that haze that follows unexpected naps. When you don’t quite know what time it is, or what day it is and did I have lunch yet because I’m hungry.
When I open my eyes, he’s watching me. The blue-gray color draws me in. He’s so beautiful. He’s smiling at me like he can read my mind. My first impulse is to jump out of his lap. As if anticipating it, the hands that up to this point were loose around me, tighten.
“Good evening, sleepyhead. Did you have a good nap?”
“I fell asleep on you? You should have woken me up.”
“Why? You looked so comfortable and you needed the rest.”
“How long was I out for?”
“A couple of hours.”
“All that? You couldn’t be comfortable with me on your lap.”
“I’m fine and I enjoyed watching you drool.” He laughs.
“I didn’t drool,” I say, but wipe my mouth anyway.
“And you snore too. This low rumble like a cat purring.”
“I don’t snore either!” I punch him lightly on the shoulder for emphasis.
“Well, if the snore upsets you, guess I shouldn’t tell you about the two farts.” He’s laughing.
I try to punch him again, with a little more conviction this time, but her grabs my hand and brings it to his lips, kissing first the back and then my open palm.
“I’ll have you know, girls don’t fart.”
“No? What do you call that sound coming out of your bottom?”
“We sing. Girls have musical butts. We’re composers.”
His whole body is shaking with laughter and I join in.
I don’t think I have ever had a fart conversation with anyone before and him telling me those things, oddly enough doesn’t embarrass me. But I’m a little nervous maybe I did fart in my sleep. Who knows? Is it possible people fart in their sleep?
He’s reading my thoughts again. “No, you didn’t fart. I might have, though.” He’s laughing even harder now.
“Ewww.” I punch him on the shoulder again.
Chapter Thirty-Six
I didn’t get much sleep last night. Nightmares kept me awake—my attack and River’s mingled into the same dream. The images get fuzzier as the light of day pushes away the night. Every once in a while, a fragment pops into my mind and disappears just as fast.
It’s been an interesting few days. River and I meet every day. We hang out at Pat’s or either of our places. We talk and get to know each other better. She told me about her growing up on a farm with hippie parents, who gave her and Skye all the freedom they wanted but also the responsibility that went along with it.
Her childhood is so different from mine. She grew up loved and confident in that love. Confident in her place in the world, and in the knowledge that her family would always have her back. I, on the other hand, had to watch my back. Mine and Logan’s. We watched out for each other. I can’t even imagine what it’s like to have that. Shaking off the self-pity, I check the time.
My eyes land on the alarm clock: 8:43 a.m. I grab my phone and find River’s number.
Liam: Hey, what time do you have to be in class?
River: Not until eleven.
Her response is fast.
Liam: Do you want to grab breakfast at Pat’s before you go to school?
River: Yes, give me 20 minutes. I’ll meet you there.
I roll out of bed, brush my teeth, and take a quick shower before finding a pair of jeans and a soft gray Henley.
I wait until I see her walking to the café before I cross the street. She’s wearing skinny jeans and loose white Riggins University T-shirt.
She stops and waits for me when she sees me walking her way. I meet her out front. We hesitate, not quite sure where to go from here. The scent of apples and cinnamon envelops me in the light breeze. Her scent. It makes me hungry and not for food. Getting ahold of myself, I lean into her and kiss her forehead. My lips linger for a few seconds. Her eyes stay closed a moment longer when I pull back. I take her hand and open the door for her. Pat watches us and when we walk to the counter to order, she already has two cups of coffee lined up, two breakfast qui
ches, and a blueberry muffin, already cut in half and buttered.
“Pay me tomorrow,” Pat says and waves us away. It’s the same old Pat. I don’t know how she stays in business. I drop a twenty in the tip jar when she turns to help another customer. She narrows her eyes at me. Every so often she’ll do this. Tell someone to pay her tomorrow. I guess it’s her way of paying it forward or giving back.
We’re sitting in our favorite corner by the window now. Our favorite corner. When did I start thinking of this spot as ours? I don’t know. At some point, over the last two months, I started thinking of River and I as us, instead of two separate entities.
Between bites, she updates me on her talk to Skye, which went much the same as with me. Tears and questions of why she didn’t ask for help or talk to anyone about it.
“As difficult as it was talking about it, opening to Skye and you, I’m glad I did it. I’m glad you overheard that conversation and pushed me to talk. I feel lighter somehow.”
“I know what you mean. I feel the same way.” I do. And I don’t. I feel lighter, but also exposed. I’m not sure how to behave. I want to be sensitive to what happened to her, and I want to throw her against the wall and have my way with her. I’m an asshole. Fuck! I was an asshole three-days ago too. Kissing her and making her come. But she asked me to. Should I have said no? Should I have stopped and left? She said she needed new memories. I understand that. I want new memories too. I want them with River. I’m so confused. I don’t know what the proper procedure is. Do we keep talking about it? Do I try to make-believe the making out didn’t happen? No. Hell no. It happened and it will happen again. If she lets me. But now, knowing what I know, it doesn’t feel right pushing her into our stupid bet. My stupid bet, I correct myself.
“I need you to give me a ride to school.”
“Okay. You have a couple of hours before your test, right?”
“Yes, but I want you to come with me into admissions and talk with an advisor to see what you need to do to enroll in pre-med.”
“What?”
“I want you to talk to someone about enrolling. If we move fast, you can take a couple of summer classes.”
My ears heard the words, but my brain is not registering them. She wants me to go to Riggins with her and enroll?
“What are you talking about?”
“What’s keeping you from going to med school now? You said, you always wanted to go. Well, just so happens, Riggins has one of the best pre-med and medical programs in the country.”
“River, I’m too old. I’m years behind everyone else.”
“You’re not too old. You’re twenty-three. And I don’t care if you’re a hundred. You’re never too old to learn something new or follow your dreams.”
“I’m too old. I’m twenty-three now. I’d have four years of undergraduate school, followed by four years of medical school and then three-to-eight years of residency programs. And I always wanted to be a trauma surgeon—that puts me on the higher end of those residencies. I would be thirty-nine by then.”
“You will be thirty-nine regardless. The question is, do you want to be thirty-nine doing something you love or not?”
I look away. If she only knew how her words touch me, how raw they make me feel. I’ve wanted this my entire life. And here she is, giving me the hope I dare not have. But this glimmer of hope is terrifying. It paralyzes me and it pushes me forward. It makes me want to believe in something I gave up long ago.
She touches my hand and my eyes meet her again. “No one should need approval to do what they love. Just imagine all the wasted talent out there because someone was too afraid to move forward and follow their dreams or because a person in their lives was critical or because they never had the support they needed,” she says and makes sure I’m still with her, before continuing.
“Imagine all the books you’ll never read, all the songs you’ll never listen to, all the art work no one will ever see because some asshole was too critical and shattered those people’s dreams.”
“But I’m not an artist or a writer, I wanted to be a doctor. And the marines gave me a taste of it. I loved what I did, even when I hated all that was happening around me that caused it.” I look away again.
Her fingers gently brush my cheek and she guides my face back to hers, waiting until our eyes connect. “What about all the lives that won’t be saved because you’re not there to do it?”
I gasp. I never thought of it this way. What if I am the person who could make a difference? I know my experience in the marines is something most doctors don’t encounter in a lifetime of practicing. And I know I had been the only thing between life and death for many marines before. She gets me with that question and then she finishes me with the next words she says.
“Don’t be one of the broken dreamers. Collect your pieces, pull yourself together. You don’t need anyone’s approval or permission to be yourself and live your live to your full potential, to live the life of your choosing, to live your life the way it was intended to be lived, Liam.”
I don’t need anyone’s permission. I’m an adult. I have the means to pay for college. I have the will to pursue it and I have the knowledge to be successful at it. What’s holding me back? Nothing. Nothing but ideas and words that are not mine. Ideas and words from my father that even now still convinced me I can’t do it.
I focus on River again. I can see so much in her eyes. Hope, expectation, and apprehension that her words have not gotten to me. Then she smiles and I smile back at her. I’m going to do this and she knows it.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Well, I’m a college student now. Or at least I’ll be in a couple of weeks. After I decided to do it, I went back home and got all the paperwork and transcripts I needed. The advisor told me they have a special program for veterans and because I want to start in the summer, they would expedite my enrollment.
I filled out a bunch of paperwork at Riggins, and I’m bringing more home, but barring anything else, I can start the summer section in two weeks. Right after commencement.
As soon as we step out of the building, I pull River into me and kiss her. It’s a no holds barred kiss.
She melts into me like sunshine into water. I kiss her until her legs go weak and I have to hold her up. Not that I’m letting her go, anyway. I kiss her until my lips hurt and I lose my breath.
I feel giddy, like I’m five years old again and it’s Christmas morning.
When our lips part, no more than an inch, my forehead to hers. We stay rooted to that spot, our breaths coming in rapid shallow pants, her chest pressed to mine, moving together and slowing down.
After a few minutes the outside world gets ahold of us again, and I’m aware of more than just her and her taste on my lips. I’m back to reality—snippets of conversations reach us in the gentle warm May breeze. The scent of late spring is heavy in the bright late morning light.
A couple of catcalls, followed by a few claps let us know we have an audience.
I laugh then and River laughs with me. We’re both a little bewildered in this moment. We’re both a little tentative in our newfound . . . connection? Friendship? Relationship?
I don’t know what this is, but I want more. I need more. Whatever this is, it’s more than lust, of that I’m sure.
I walk River to her building, her hand in mine, our fingers laced. We’re silent as we walk the few minutes to where she’s taking her finals. When she stops in front of a three-story red brick building, half of it covered in ivy. I know she’s reached her destination.
There are people all around us. The campus is busy and abuzz with students running in and out of doors, books in hand, trying to cram in one last minute of studying. This will be me soon enough. This could have been me a year ago if I had come home when I was discharged. But I wasn’t ready then. Not ready to face Logan or live among normal people again. I needed that time to heal my wounds. Both the physical and the less visible ones.
She looks at me, a ques
tion in her eyes. I have the same question. What now? What is this we have? Where do we go from here?
I answer them.
“I’m not sure, but I want to explore whatever this is we have between us. I like this. I like us a lot.” I wave the hand that’s not holding hers between us.
She nods, still no spoken words.
“Let’s take it a day at a time. See where it leads us.”
“Okay, I can do that,” she says.
“I don’t want anything between us, River. No more walls. No more hiding.”
“Okay, I can do that.” She repeats her previous words, and it makes me smile.
“But no holding back either. I like no-filter River.”
“Oh, thank fuck!” She lets out a huge breath and my smile turns into a laugh.
“It won’t be us if we’re walking on the proverbial eggshells. Let’s be honest with each other. Always. Okay?”
She smirks now. “Okay.”
I let her hand go and cup her face, leaning into her, and kissing her again. Softer, slower this time. There are a lot of people around and I can feel their eyes on us. Some of them are her friends or classmates for sure.
“What time are you done for the day?”
“Around three-thirty.”
“I’ll pick you up. Just text me where to meet you.”
“You don’t have to. I can—”
“I want to. I have to bring paperwork back anyway. I’ll pick you up. Let me know where. Heck, I might just stay on campus and get to know it.”
She sees the eagerness in me. How badly I want to be in this place and take that first step into my dream. She walks backward toward the building. A girl with black hair comes up to River and stops her a few steps away from me.
“Hey,” she calls to River before glancing at me with curiosity.
River notices her. “Becca!”
“Who’s your friend?” she asks with interest.
Because of Liam Page 12