Turning Home (A Small Town Novel)

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Turning Home (A Small Town Novel) Page 19

by Stephanie Nelson


  I awoke to an empty bed and a letter from Brooke taped to my mirror, informing me that she’d gone home to shower and change and would be up at the hospital all day. I was half-tempted to call into work and spend the day with her, but I couldn’t leave Jase hanging like that. Plus, I wasn’t sure she wanted me up there.

  By the time noon rolled around, I was happy to get out of the garage. Jase had spent all day grilling me about Brooke. After his hundredth question, I finally told him that we were, indeed, dating. That led to a magnitude of other questions, all relating to how we expected to make a long-distance relationship work. Jase couldn’t fathom staying faithful to a girl if she wasn’t around, or maybe he was just testing my commitment to Brooke. It’d take some time for him to realize I wasn’t the same Dylan he’d always known. Casual hookups no longer held the appeal they once did. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that Brooke and I could make it work.

  I’d finished replacing the alternator in Ms. Gibbons’s car, and wiped the impression of Brooke’s beautiful ass from the hood. When the little old woman came in to pick it up, I’d smirked as she thanked me, knowing she would think differently if she knew what had happened.

  “Hey, man,” I called to Jase as I headed toward the door. “I’m having lunch with Dana. You want me to pick you up anything?”

  “Nah, I brought something.”

  After getting into my truck, I took out my phone to call Brooke and realized I still didn’t have her number—too occupied last night to think of asking her. It bothered me that I had no way of seeing how she was doing. I pictured her sitting up at the hospital all alone and in tears.

  As I was putting my truck into drive, my cell rang. I eyed it suspiciously, curious if Brooke had a sixth sense I didn’t know about. Unfortunately, my father’s name showed up on the screen.

  “Hey, I’m just getting ready to have lunch with Dana. Can I call you back?”

  “I know, I’m having lunch with the two of you,” he said. “I was just making sure you were still coming.”

  I glanced at the clock on my dashboard. I was only three minutes late. The sucky thing about working at a garage was that I didn’t have weekends off like a regular nine-to-five. Still, it surprised me that my dad wanted to spend his free time eating lunch with Dana and me.

  “Yeah, I’m on my way now.”

  “Good, because I need to talk to you.”

  “What about?” I heard him excuse himself, followed by Dana’s voice in the background. Silence ensued as he put distance between himself and my sister. Strange. I braked at a stop sign, taking a left onto Main Street. I could see my father’s silver truck just down the road. He stood outside the diner, his phone pressed to his ear.

  “Mr. Kingsley contacted me today.”

  “What? Why the hell would he contact you?”

  “Says you showed up at his house the other night. Is there something going on with you and Brooke?”

  There weren’t a lot of things that caught me off guard, but this whole conversation left me stunned. It wasn’t a secret that Mr. Kingsley didn’t like me, or my kind, but to contact my father in hopes he could keep me away from his daughter was bat shit crazy.

  “That bastard has no right to come to our side of town and—”

  “Dylan,” my father interrupted, “this is one girl you should just leave alone. Find someone else.”

  “She’s not like the other girls,” I told him. “We’re not just fooling around; we’re dating, whether Mr. Kingsley likes it or not.”

  “Listen, I know the pull of a woman like Brooke, and I’m telling you, let it go.”

  What the hell was he talking about? My dad was the last person on this Earth who would cower to the Snobs.

  “Why?” I asked. “Just because her daddy doesn’t want a guy like me with his daughter?”

  “For once in your life will you just listen? There are things you don’t know, and before you ask what those things are, know I’m not going to tell you. Trust me, walk away.”

  Instead of parking along the curb to meet my sister and dad for lunch, I kept on driving. I saw my father’s head swivel as he watched me head past the diner.

  “Tell Dana I’ll have lunch with her tomorrow,” I said, hanging up. I couldn’t be around my dad right then. It was so out of character for him to go along with what someone like Mr. Kingsley wanted, and what were the things that determined that Brooke and I shouldn’t be together? Roseville held many secrets, but I never thought my father was part of them. It pissed me off that he wouldn’t tell me why I should just walk away from the only girl I ever cared about.

  Before I knew where I was going, I was pulling into the parking lot of the hospital. There was no way I was giving up Brooke after just getting her back.

  I’d been sitting in the small cafeteria when Dylan sat down at my table. I looked up, my brain taking a few moments to realize he was actually here. My mother hadn’t shown any signs of improvement, and I’d been zoning out all day, lost in thought.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I wanted to see how you were doing,” Dylan said, “and I don’t have your number anymore.”

  I nodded wordlessly as I shuffled my coffee cup between my cupped hands. It didn’t surprise me that he’d deleted my number; I’d almost done the same thing.

  “Any news?”

  I shook my head, lifting my eyes to meet Dylan’s gentle green ones. “No.”

  I’d spent half of the morning talking to my mother, hoping my voice would break through her comatose state, and she’d open her eyes. She hadn’t so much as fluttered an eyelid. Maybe my father was right, and she didn’t know I was even there. My dream from last night had plagued my mind all day. I’d even asked the doctors if there was a possibility she was pregnant. After getting a few strange looks, they confirmed she wasn’t.

  Dylan stood and dragged his chair over to my side of the table. He positioned the chair so that it was facing me head-on and sat. Reaching out, he turned me so that I was facing him with my legs between his. Clasping one of my hands, he used the other to brush my hair behind my ear.

  “If she’s as strong as you,” he said, “she’s going to pull through. I’m always here if you want to talk. You know that, right? I don’t care if it’s about your mama, school, or who the celebs are dating. Consider me your personal venting companion.”

  I smiled, tears stinging my eyes. I hadn’t realized how much I needed someone to comfort me in this. I’d always dealt with things on my own, keeping my feelings locked tightly inside. Revealing them was a sign of weakness in my daddy’s eyes. Until now, music was the only thing I could confide in, let every emotion pour out of me and into the lyrics of a song.

  “You’re kind of amazing,” I said, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Dylan’s lips. We rested our foreheads together, and I closed my eyes to inhale the essence of him. Before he came into my life, I had lived with a pressure on my chest, weighing me down and constricting my breathing. I was shiny and calm on the outside but screaming and scratching to break free on the inside. I realized every day with Dylan was a rescue mission. He had stepped onto the path leading to my mapped out future and taken my hand to point me in a new direction, saving me.

  “I’m not amazing,” Dylan said softly, his breath fanning across my lips. “I can’t give you a lot, but I can make sure you always have my undivided attention.”

  I sat back so I could see his face. “That will always be enough.”

  “Brooke?”

  Dylan and I were staring at each other, and it took me a moment to realize someone else had called my name. Dragging my eyes away from the glorious boy before me, I looked up to find Lily’s mom, Mrs. Davies, staring at me with a judgmental, raised eyebrow. It took me a moment to understand what the thinly veiled look of disgust meant. When her cold gray eyes cut to Dylan, I had all the answers I needed.

  “Is this boy bothering you?”

  I glanced at Dylan and then back to Mrs.
Davies. “No, he’s a friend.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, Dylan’s lips tightened into a scowl.

  “Yes, well, I think it’s best that your … friend meet you elsewhere. Don’t you think? It’s a little uncouth, Brooke.”

  Dylan stood and his defeated look crushed my heart. The people in my world had a way of doing that. It was as though they all mastered the art of beating down those they thought were beneath them.

  Reaching out, I clasped Dylan’s hand to keep him from leaving. His eyes fell to our joined hands, his facial muscles relaxing.

  “Actually,” I said, “what I think is uncouth is you parading in here assuming the role of concerned friend to my mama when I know for a fact you two haven’t talked in over a month. Trying to win brownie points with the organization my mother assembled is a little desperate. Don’t you think?”

  Dylan choked on a laugh while the crow’s feet around Mrs. Davies eyes deepened with the now murderous glare she was casting my way. Her collagen-injected lips pursed together in a scowl, and just as she was about to open her mouth to respond, I interrupted her.

  “Maybe you should wait until my mama’s awake to rekindle your friendship. I’m sure she would be thrilled to see you.” I knew that she wouldn’t. While Lily and I had been best friends through school, our mothers had tolerated each other the same way every Southern woman did—with a fake smile and hushed gossip. It wasn’t a secret Mrs. Davies had been trying to get on the board of my mother’s charity organization, Southern Soothers, for years. The group held fundraisers to raise money for battered women shelters, and was quickly becoming one of the biggest charities in Alabama. Mrs. Davies, of course, wanted that sort of recognition.

  Dylan and I left Mrs. Davies fuming and her mouth agape. I just didn’t have the patience for a woman like her to waltz into the hospital and criticize me as though she had any right. I was sure the next time I ran into Lily, I’d hear all about it.

  “You said we were friends,” Dylan said after we walked out to the parking lot. I leaned against his truck, my arms crossed and my adrenaline still racing after dealing with that horrid woman.

  “I’m sorry,” I told him. Taking a step forward, I placed my hands on his chest and looked up into his eyes. “I guess I’m not used to the idea of you being my boyfriend yet.”

  He studied my face, his arms coming around my waist. “As long as it’s only that.”

  “What else would it be?”

  Again, Dylan paused. “Nothing, never mind,” he said with a smile. “Dana, Jase, and a few other friends are getting together tonight. You free?”

  “Do you think I’m embarrassed to be seen with you, Dylan?”

  He tilted his head to the side, his eyes appraising me. “I used to think that was the case, but not anymore. I just … after your dad talked to mine—”

  “What? When did my dad talk to yours? What did he say?”

  “My dad wouldn’t say,” Dylan said, “but he hinted that I should stay away from you. I’m guessing he didn’t come to that conclusion himself.” His green eyes blazed in the sun. “I know you’re going through a lot with your mom, and you don’t need any more stress. If you want to walk away from me, I won’t hold it against you.” His arms tightened around my waist. “You should know, though, if we’re doing this, I’ll go to battle to stay with you. I’m tired of letting our worlds decide for us.”

  The idea of walking away from Dylan had never crossed my mind. I’d seen the way my father treated him when he stopped by the house, knew how much he detested the Crawford family. Still, I couldn’t imagine letting go of the only man who’d ever made me feel safe.

  I shook my head and lifted myself up on my tiptoes. Against his mouth, I said, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Dylan Crawford.” I kissed his smiling face, unconcerned that we were kissing in broad daylight with witnesses.

  I’d lost my virginity when I was fifteen and had been having sex ever since. I wasn’t one of those guys who kept a tally or bragged about who I’d done. To me, sex was always just part of who I was, and that didn’t garner boasting. I was never picky when it came to finding someone to share my bed with, so long as I got off. No matter how beautiful the girl was or how sweetly she hinted at wanting something more, once she showed signs of falling for me, I cut all ties. Some girls got their hearts broken, some—the ones suffering from low self-esteem—came back again and again, convinced they could change me. Never in all my experiences had I associated sex as anything more than a quick high. It satisfied an emptiness I didn’t even know existed.

  When those girls looked at me with sappy, googly eyes, my confidence soared. I felt deserving of the admiration. Say what you will, the feeling was addictive. They didn’t care that I didn’t have money, worked as a mechanic, or drove a twelve year old truck. God help them, all they saw when they looked at me was someone they were attracted to. Unfortunately, with women, sex is never just sex. Once they learned all the fantasies swimming through their head sank after I got what I wanted, that awe faded from their eyes. And it was on to the next.

  The girl currently on my lap, moving her bare hips against my cock, shattered all of my misconceptions about sex. I knew I had switched places with all those girls who’d looked at me so entranced. Now, I was the one in awe of the girl before me. If karma were a real thing, it would take her away from me and teach me a lesson. I’d admit I deserved it and more. Somehow, Brooke had become everything to me. I hadn’t intentionally planned to settle down or feel the way I felt. I didn’t pretend to know why it happened or even how. I just knew I wouldn’t change it if I could.

  I gripped her hips and moved her against me, watching her. The way her back curved when she arched was so fucking sexy. With her eyes closed, she bit her bottom lip as a moan traveled up her throat. I wondered if she did that on purpose or if she was even aware of her sensuality. I skimmed my hands up her waist, loving the feel of her soft skin beneath my fingers. Palming her breasts, I leaned forward and sucked one hardened nipple into my mouth. If I thought sex was addicting before, I was a full-blown junkie now. This was our fourth time together, and still I wanted more. She braced her hands on my shoulders, increasing the speed of her hips as she rode me faster. Sucking in a hiss, I stared up at her. I’d be content to just sit here and watch her take control of me. She was a masterpiece come to life, beautiful and sexy, as she gave into what her body wanted.

  I knew she was better than me, but skin-to-skin we were just two people who needed each other. I shed my stigmas and she her prestigious name. I wasn’t the mechanic from the wrong side of town, nor she the princess of Roseville. In the darkness of my bedroom, we made sense.

  Her wanting moans and murmurs were now my favorite sound, feeding and filling up that place that was once empty. As she wrapped her arms around my neck, her breasts smashing against my chest, something inside of me clicked. I was so far gone for this girl that it wasn’t funny, completely hopeless and well aware what that meant. I loved her. The revelation didn’t scare me half as bad as I expected. I supposed when it came to her, love wasn’t ridiculous in the least.

  I groaned, wrapping my arms around her body when I felt her clench around me. Her body sagged against me, her hips still writhing in slow thrusts. The raw sexiness of this woman undid me. Releasing the grip on what control I had, a spasm shot through my dick, and I closed my eyes to the utter euphoria swimming through my body.

  After a few long seconds of us catching our breaths, I brought my hand up to cradle the back of her neck and directed her mouth to mine. We kissed unhurriedly, sweeping our tongues across on another’s, our bodies sated and sweaty.

  “I love you, Brooke,” I whispered, surprising myself. While I’d just admitted to myself that I loved her, I hadn’t expected to tell her just yet. The silence seemed to stretch into oblivion while I waited for her to say something, anything. The longer my confession went unaddressed, the more I realized that just maybe karma was gearing up to tear me down. Either
the statement would scare her away, or it would become awkward between us. I prayed she didn’t respond by saying something indifferent like ‘thank you’ or ‘that’s so sweet.’

  “I …” she began, her voice small. She took a deep breath, and the glow from my lamp cast shadows across her face, revealing her parted lips and arched eyebrows. Was she shocked or scared?

  “You don’t have to say it back,” I told her, saving her from the already building awkwardness. “I hadn’t even meant to say it.”

  Her beautiful face fell. “Oh.”

  I sat up with her still on my lap and cupped her cheeks. “I didn’t mean it like that.” My hands fell away from her face, sweeping down her back. “I meant every word. I just hadn’t meant to tell you.”

  One corner of her mouth lifted in a grin. “So you don’t tell every girl you love them?”

  I smiled, shaking my head at the idea. “No, you’re the first, other than Dana, of course.”

  Her grin stretched into a teeth-revealing smile. “That’s good news because I would hate to fall in love with a guy who’s confessing his supposed love all over town.”

  I laughed at her tone and then realized what she said. Staring up at her in surprise, I arched a questioning brow at her. At her nod, I flipped her over so that I was on top of her. Bracing my weight on my arms, I stared down at her.

  “Just to be sure,” I said, “I need to hear you say it.”

  Giggling, she obliged, “I love you, Dylan.”

  I’d heard girls say those three little words to me before. Never had I believed them or taken into account how they felt when I told them I didn’t feel the same. When those simple words passed through Brooke’s lips, however, I felt the weight of their meaning.

  Hovering over her, I trailed a fingertip down and between her breasts. My eyes followed the path of my finger, soaking in the beauty of her soft curves and ruddy nipples. Out of all the women I’d seen naked, none of them fascinated me the way she did.

  “I want you to know that I’m not going to let you down, Brooke.” My eyes snapped up to hers. I’d never wanted to prove myself to anyone before, but I knew I’d spend the rest of my life proving to Brooke that she could rely on me. I needed her to know that none of the women before her compared.

 

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