“You’re welcome,” Brooke said, pure delight causing her face to glow. A sudden sense of insecurity consumed me, knowing I hadn’t spent a lot on my gift for Brooke. I had no clue how to do this girlfriend shit. The only girl I ever bought stuff for was Dana, and she was used to modest stuff. I knew I couldn’t offer Brooke the things she was used to, but the realization of that didn’t set in until now. If Brooke got a purse from me, it’d be from Wal-mart. Spending forty bucks on a bag was considered pricey in my mind. I didn’t even want to know how much a Coach one cost.
Jase was the next to open his gift. Bending over, he reached into the bag sitting on the floor and pulled out a pair of boxing gloves. Titling his head, he looked over at Brooke questioningly.
“I thought your kind slapped your opponents with a glove when challenging them to a duel.” A sarcastic smirk bent up one side of his mouth.
Brooke giggled and said, “No, they’re only part of your gift. I got you boxing lessons at Teddy’s in the next town over. It’s supposed to be a really good workout.”
“Darlin’, when I fight, it’s bare-knuckled.”
At the apprehension on Brooke’s face, I cut in. “Come on, dude, it could be fun.”
Jase snorted. “I’ll check it out, but your ass is going with me. I’ll need someone to test these babies out on.” He held up the gloves, and I nodded in agreement. In high school, Jase and I would grapple for fun. Getting into a ring with him was going to be a blast.
“Thanks, Brooke.”
“You’re welcome.”
“It’s a cool gift,” I assured her, squeezing her fingers. She didn’t know Jase’s history of violence. It wasn’t my place to tell his story.
All four of us brought our attention to my dad. The room grew silent as though it, along with us, was holding its breath. I prayed he’d open the damn present, smile, and say thank you without fuss. I had no idea what Brooke had gotten him.
With a heavy breath, he proceeded to open his gift. He lifted a large basket out of the bag and studied the contents for a long while, probably deciding how to acknowledge Brooke for getting it for him. When he turned the basket around so we could see, I smiled. It was filled with different BBQ sauces, spices, and cooking tools. I released a relieved breath that it wasn’t an over the top gift.
“I heard you liked to BBQ,” Brooke said, her voice soft. “There’s also a gift card in there for the meat market.”
Crap! So much for a modest gift. Based on the gifts she’d gotten Jase and Dana, I knew the gift card wasn’t going to be a small amount.
“Thank you, Brooke,” my dad said, placing the basket back in the bag. “That was nice of you. I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything. Had I known—”
“It’s okay, really,” Brooke quickly interjected. “Just being able to spend the day with you guys is gift enough. It’s been great.”
My dad eyed her as though trying to decide if she was lying or not, finally nodding once he made up his mind. Over all, the day went better than I ever expected. It gave me hope that Brooke and I could do this.
***
Dylan and I sat on my front porch swing, rocking back and forth as the sun faded into the horizon. Today turned out better than I expected, though I felt a little self-conscious about the gifts I’d given. Knowing money can make people uncomfortable when they don’t come from it, I thought I was being modest when buying the presents for Dylan’s family. Next time I’d be thriftier. In no way did I want to rub my parents’ money in their faces. I may have come from those types of people, but I wasn’t that type of girl. Not anymore.
“Thank you for today,” I told Dylan. I had my head resting on his shoulder, my arms wrapped around his hard body. The scent of his cologne filled my nostrils and made me dizzy with its deliciousness. Inhaling deep, I closed my eyes and memorized its scent. When I returned to school, I wanted to remember it whenever I thought of him.
“No thanks are necessary,” Dylan said, kissing the top of my head. “I was being selfish when I invited you.”
I looked up at him. “How so?”
“Our time is limited,” he explained. “So I’m keeping you close until I have no choice but to say goodbye.”
I smiled up at him, but my chest hurt at the thought of returning to my life. Dylan was part of it now, a very important part. It was going to be tough having him an hour away.
“Ready for your gift?”
I sat up, curling a leg under my body. “You didn’t have to get me anything. You know that, right?”
Something flashed across Dylan’s face, but I couldn’t pinpoint the emotion before it disappeared. Had I said something wrong? Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out a small black box. My heart thudded in my chest at the recognition of a jewelry box. When deciding what to get Dylan for Christmas, I’d decided on something meaningful rather than materialistic. Now that I knew he’d gotten me jewelry, guilt settled in the pit of my stomach.
“You look terrified,” Dylan laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s not an engagement ring.”
A shaky breath drifted through my parted lips. I hadn’t even considered it being a ring. Any amount of jewelry was too much.
“Open it.”
Taking the box from his hand, I flipped the lid and stared at the silver necklace lying inside. An oval pendant with roses engraved on it rested from a long chain. It was beautiful and already my favorite piece of jewelry.
“It’s a locket,” Dylan explained, taking the box from my hands. He removed the necklace and pushed a button on the side that caused it to spring open. Holding it toward me, he showed me the picture inside. It was the one he’d taken with his cell phone that night in his room. The two of us embraced in each other’s arms, our mouths pressed together in a deep kiss. He’d kept the pictures of us even after I left him. Tears welled in my eyes, my view of the necklace going blurry. I seriously needed to get a hold on these damn tears.
Dylan flipped the locket over. The engraving on the back read: ‘Forever wouldn’t be long enough,’ in fancy script. Twin tears leaked from my eyes and trailed down my cheeks. Lifting my gaze, I stared at my boyfriend in amazement. I never knew jewelry could be so thoughtful. All of the pieces I possessed had been for show, bought for the sole purpose of flaunting our money. My parents wouldn’t allow me to wear cheap jewelry. Even if Dylan’s locket had been made out of plastic, it would have been worth more to me than all the gold sitting in my jewelry box.
“It’s amazing,” I told him as more tears trickled out of my eyes. “I love it almost as much as I love you.” I lifted my eyes to Dylan’s, all apprehension of our long-distance relationship fleeing from the look he was giving me. It spoke of love, longing, and passion, and I knew both of us would fight like hell to make this work.
“It’s not much,” Dylan began, and I leaned forward to kiss him. There was no way I was going to let him think his gift wasn’t good enough. If there was a way to make him feel the overwhelming feelings consuming me, I would have poured them out and let him see just how important his gift was.
“It’s absolutely perfect,” I said against his mouth.
He spanned his hand across my face, his thumb sweeping my tears away. “I mean it, you know.”
“What?”
“Forever not being long enough,” he replied, placing a light kiss to the corner of my mouth. “You’re the first girl who’s made me think of the future. I can’t picture it without you.”
More tears fell, and I laughed at my girly-ness. “It’s like you’re trying to see how much you can make me cry.”
“As long as they’re happy tears.”
“I won’t be able to give you your gift if I’m sniffling.”
“Does your gift happen to include lacy panties?” Dylan nuzzled my throat, and my eyes slipped closed at how good it felt. His hot mouth pressed kisses along my throat while his hands roamed up my waist.
“I don’t know your size,” I joked.
Dylan’s laugh landed against
my skin, causing goose bumps to erupt along my arms. His mouth traveled up to my ear. Whispering, he said, “Turn around, smartass, and lift your hair.” Sitting back, he held the necklace out and I spun around. Placing the necklace around my neck, he clasped it. My fingers came up to brush against the pendant, a smile stretching my lips. I had to get myself under control in order to give him my gift.
Standing, I said, “I didn’t buy you anything.” After his thoughtful gift, I felt like crap for not going out and getting him something amazing.
“Good,” Dylan said, “I don’t want you spending money on me.”
I walked over and opened the front door, reaching inside for my guitar. I’d placed it just there on purpose, fully confident at the time. Now, my stomach twisted in nervous knots. Dylan’s lacy panties sounded like a better plan. I debated forgetting my plan altogether and just going up to my bedroom to slip into something sexy for him.
“You’re going to sing to me?” Dylan asked, eyeing my guitar.
“Uh … yeah, I was going to,” I told him, nervous like crazy. “But I don’t have to.” Other than Lily, I hadn’t ever sung in front of anyone. My music was personal, my form of exposing a part of myself I hid from the world. This was a stupid idea.
* * * *
I eyed Brooke in the fading light, guitar in her hand and honeyed hair spilling over her shoulders. She looked like a princess with her palace as her backdrop. I’d never believed in luck until her, but it was the only explanation as to why this girl was with me.
“You have to,” I told her with a smile. “No take backs.” I’d been curious about hearing her sing since she first mentioned her love of music. Knowing this hot girl was going to sing to me turned me on. I didn’t even care if she was horrible; just knowing that I’d be the target of her attention made me horny.
“Okay,” she said, coming over and sitting on the swing, “but you cannot laugh.”
“Not even if you sound like a dying cat,” I promised. She laughed, though I could tell she was nervous. Her hands shook as she placed the guitar in her lap, adjusting her fingers on the strings. Bowing her head, a curtain of hair fell across her face and offered a sense of privacy that I knew she appreciated. She closed her eyes and began to strum the guitar, a soft melodic tone filling the porch. She hit every note, and I knew it was from her passion of music rather than being a good study. A sense of peace fell over her face when she played, softening her features and relaxing her body. It was sexy as hell.
When she began to sing, my breath lodged in my throat, and I stared wide-eyed at her as though seeing her for the first time. Swallowing, I paid attention to the lyrics and realized the song was about me, or at least I hoped it was. Her voice flowed out flawlessly, rising and falling in perfect pitch. It was raw with emotion, like she plucked it from the deepest corners of her soul and spilled it before me. Why the hell was she going to school when she could be famous? I wished I would have recorded her with my phone so I could listen to this song over and over, knowing each word was meant for me—a poor mechanic from nowhere Alabama.
When she sang a run, her voice rising and smooth, chills washed over me. Goddamn chills. She was amazing in every possible way and, if I were a smart man, I’d come up with a better term. But as I watched her lost in her music, ‘amazing’ was the only word that came to mind.
The song faded, drifting with the breeze washing across the porch. Slowly, Brooke opened her eyes, and I could tell it took her a moment to come back from where she’d been. I envied that sanctuary she’d created.
A breathy sound fell out of my open mouth, and I shook my head, speechless. She was too much, too good, too sweet, too talented. And she was mine. The revelation of that caused my chest to compress and burst at the same time. She overwhelmed me, flooded my mind with things I never experienced. It was … amazing.
“I know,” she said with a bashful smile, “it’s a little cheesy. I just wanted to share this part of myself with you.”
“Do you understand how talented you are?” I asked her, genuinely curious. “I admit, I expected mediocre at best, but that … it was … incredible, Brooke.” I mentally gave myself a fist bump for coming up with something other than ‘amazing.’
“It’s nothing,” she said with a shrug, like she hadn’t just blown my mind. “It’s just a hobby.”
“You don’t really believe that.” I squeezed her knee. “Your parents told you music was a hobby, didn’t they? Have you ever sung for them?”
She laughed it off. “No, music is just my way of dealing with life. They never understood its importance. Besides, the odds of making a career out of it are slim to none.”
“Perhaps,” I agreed, but that’s a dream worth chasing. If the world could hear what I just heard …” I had complete confidence that if Brooke decided to try for a singing career, she’d get there, and it wasn’t because I was her boyfriend. The girl could sing.
“It was about you,” she admitted. “The song. I wrote it a couple months ago. I’m happy you liked it.”
Pride washed its way through my chest. “I loved it and fully expect more private concerts. Clothing optional.” I seized her arm and pulled her into me, needing to kiss her.
One week later
Dylan and I stood outside, him leaning against his truck with me in his arms. My vacation was over, and it was time for him to return to Roseville—without me. We’d spent one glorious week consumed with each other, barely leaving my apartment. The only time we left my bedroom was for food, bathroom breaks, and showers. I wasn’t ready to watch him drive away, knowing that when I entered my apartment again, it would feel emptier without him in it.
“We’re only an hour away from each other,” Dylan reminded me. “It’s an easy drive, and I’ll be up any chance I get. Don’t look so sad.”
I smiled up at him, loving how my body felt pressed against his and the way his strong arms held me tight. The security of those arms, the possession in his eyes, convinced me that we could make this work. What was an hour drive when two people loved each other as much as we did?
“I miss you already,” I told him, reaching up on my tiptoes to kiss him. My utter obsession with this boy was astounding. He had me love drunk.
“You’re making it very hard,” Dylan whispered, his voice seductive and low, “to leave.”
I half grumbled, half whined, picturing us tangled up in my sheets. “You better go, or I’m going to drag you back up to my bedroom and handcuff you to my bed.”
“Handcuffs, huh?” Amusement washed over his face. “What happened to sweet little Brooke Kingsley who blushed at such things?”
“Dylan Crawford liberated her.”
“I’ve created a monster,” he joked, dragging a finger over my bottom lip.
“Okay, lover boy,” I told him, taking a step back. “You better get on the road.” My stomach dropped with the knowledge that he was leaving—hating it.
“I’ll call you as soon as I get home. We can try that Skype thing you showed me.” His wink told me he didn’t plan to just chat. If it wasn’t for the miracle of technology, I didn’t think I would be able to bear a long distance relationship with Dylan. Knowing we’d have video chat was enough to ease my mind. At least I’d get to see him in some form.
“Drive safely,” I told him, ignoring the tightening in my chest. Dylan lifted his bag and placed it in the bed of his truck, and the tightness intensified. Spinning around, he walked toward me and scooped me into his arms, lifting me off the ground.
“I’ll see you soon,” he said, brushing his lips against mine.
“See you soon,” I told him, kissing his upper lip and loving the groan vibrating up his throat. When his tongue slid through my lips, I closed my eyes and tightened my hold around his neck to bring his mouth closer. This kiss was different, deeper and desperate, as we tried to squeeze one more second together before the clock ran out. Dylan had already waited until the last minute, and he had to work tomorrow, but neither of us was wi
lling to let go first.
“I love you,” I breathed.
“I love you, baby,” Dylan replied.
Reluctantly, I slid down his body until my feet touched the ground again. With one last peck, Dylan turned and headed toward his truck. My fingers instinctively came up and caressed my locket as I watched him climb into his cab. The rumble of his engine caused a lump in my throat. Everything will work out, I told myself.
Dylan smiled at me from his truck, waving as he pulled away. Smiling back, I waved and watched the glow of his taillights fade into the darkness. Despite how sad I was to watch him go, I was confident in us. The distance would only make us crave each other more, and that made me look forward to seeing him again. Oh, the possibilities.
Brooke’s song for Dylan
Turning Home
(Verse 1)
When I’m alone and the distance becomes too much,
I reminisce about the two of us.
You control me from afar,
my heart is forever yours.
(Verse 2)
I always wondered where I belonged.
It was in your arms all along.
They keep me safe, yet set me free.
You’re my favorite love song.
(Chorus)
Distance doesn’t hinder us.
I’m just as much yours as I always was.
When the nights are long and I’m alone,
you keep my mind turning home.
(Bridge)
No other guy compares to you.
My heart is helpless to the things you do.
You’ve sucked me in and now I’m addicted,
I can’t turn away from the very thing I crave,
I need one more kiss, one more touch to
keep me complacent.
(Chorus)
Distance doesn’t hinder us.
I’m just as much yours as I always was.
Turning Home (A Small Town Novel) Page 23