Under the Influence

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Under the Influence Page 10

by L. B. Simmons


  “There is so much more to you than you believe, Dalton. You think yourself incapable of trust and compassion, of patience and empathy, but I know better.” She lifts her hand and flattens her palm on her chest. “I know because I feel you here. The real you, not the concocted version you want everyone else to see. And I know with absolute certainty that you are every bit as compassionate and patient as I am. You just keep all those qualities hidden so deeply within yourself that even you don’t know they’re there. But I feel them, every time my heart beats.”

  She lifts her hand away from her chest to delicately run her fingers through my hair, and I burn the image of this moment into my mind. The conviction in her eyes as they convey unyielding confidence in the words she’s just spoken fuels me to believe I can do anything.

  Her grin widens as she tugs my hair playfully with her fingers before glancing over my shoulder to the surface of the porch. “I’m surprised you didn’t lose your cap tonight.”

  Memories of preceding events rush my mind and my eyes dart down to her lap, where her fucking hand sits swollen and bruised. My jaw tenses. “Shit. Your hand.”

  I glance back up just in time to see her nose crinkle. “It doesn’t really hurt anymore.”

  My head falls to the side and a disbelieving smirk crosses my face before she throws her head back in laughter. “I promise, Dalton. It doesn’t hurt.” Her gaze falls on my hand. “How ‘bout yours?”

  I shrug my response, long since numb to the pain. Her smile falls and I watch as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth.

  “I’m sorry about the whole night actually,” she adds, her voice timid.

  “Spence—”

  “It was my fault, the whole thing with Jase. I shouldn’t have gone out with him.” She shakes her head and the guilty expression on her face sparks my anger.

  “You did nothing to warrant his fucking hands all over you.”

  Images of her helplessness as his face was buried in her neck while his hands stroked her bare thighs flash through my mind. My hands clench tightly, and her eyes fall to my fists before she shyly glances back to my face.

  “I know. It’s just … well, I only went out with him to … uh … well, to get your attention, so to speak.”

  My eyes widen and my head jerks back. “What?”

  She nervously nibbles at her lip before deflecting. “It was Cassie’s idea.”

  Her forehead wrinkles and her lips pucker while she struggles for some semblance of an explanation. “She … well, we wanted to…”

  As she flounders, the pieces finally fall together and I whisper a silent thank you to Daisy Mae before my lips strain against the emerging grin. I cock my head to the side and raise my brows expectantly. Her gaze tightens in frustration as she eyes my twitching mouth.

  “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

  While nodding a slow, patient nod in answer, the grin breaks free and her eyes narrow further into a hardened stare.

  “We were testing a theory.”

  My smile widens. “And what theory was that, may I ask?”

  “No, you may not ask.” Her face relaxes and the corners of her mouth lift slightly. “But I will say the theory proved to be true and while I’m extremely happy about that…” She pauses and her brows knit together in thought. “I’m just sorry it got out of hand. You could have been hurt. I could have been hurt. It just wasn’t a good situation and I’m really, really sorry.”

  I reach forward and take her hands into mine, careful not to squeeze too tightly. “No more apologies. Not tonight. My being able to hold you, to touch you, to kiss you…” I shake my head for emphasis. “I won’t apologize for anything that had to happen to get us to this moment, and neither should you.”

  She nods her head and her eyes fill with tears. Just as I lean forward to steal yet another kiss, the screen door squeaks open and Ms. Locke steps out onto the porch, eyebrows raised skyward. She glances between the both of us before revealing a shrewd smile as she makes her way to where we stand, then focuses her attention solely on Spencer.

  “I think we’re definitely going to need some ice cream.”

  Spencer giggles as she nods eagerly and hops off the railing. Her bare feet hit the wood beneath us, then she asks, “Can you give us another sec? Then I’ll come in.”

  Ms. Locke reaches forward and grazes the tip of her finger down Spencer’s cheek. “Sure thing, honey.”

  She then turns to me and her grin widens before she steps forward to embrace me. Always uncomfortable with the gesture, my arms lift hesitantly as I pat her gently on the back. Her body shakes with laughter and she squeezes me even tighter before she whispers in my ear, “Believe it or not, your hugs are getting better.”

  A smile pulls at my lips and I give her one more awkward pat on the back before releasing her. Ms. Locke gives me a wink and turns away, pressing a kiss on Spencer’s forehead before entering the house.

  Spencer watches her mother exit before bringing her eyes back to mine. She grins as she wraps her arms around my waist and rests her cheek on my chest. My arms fold around her and I press my lips to the top of her head, inhaling contently.

  “Your hugs are getting better.” She giggles.

  I grin into her hair. “Well, with adults, not so much. But with you, it’s as natural as breathing.”

  She sighs. “What now? Where do we go from here?”

  My arms tighten around her petite waist. “Well, I think I should probably ask you out on an official date. Your first one was kind of a bust.”

  Her cheek presses into my shirt as she smiles. “You sure? I mean, it would kind of defeat the whole purpose of your no-one-dates-Spencer-Locke crusade if you broke your own rules.”

  I smile full-on, and with my arms still around her, I lean away to better see her face. “It would, but I’ve never really been one to follow the rules anyway. As you well know.”

  She giggles again and the sound filters straight to my heart.

  “Plus,” I add, “I will have the image of you bent over my seat, your ass in that dress, etched forever in my mind. You had no idea what you were doing, but it was sexy as hell. Trust me.” My brows rise as I inquire, “You think I’m gonna let you go anywhere near another dude’s car after that sight in my rearview mirror? Nope. Never.”

  Her mouth stretches into a wide smile and unable to resist, I lean forward and brush my own against it. She parts her lips and my tongue darts between them, sweeping deeply as I bask in her taste. She smiles against my mouth.

  “Your kisses definitely don’t need work,” she states with a devilish grin as she releases me from her hold. She lifts her arm to stroke my cheek with her thumb. “See you tomorrow?”

  “It’s a date,” I respond, once again gifted with the sound of her laughter.

  My body immediately misses her warmth as she turns away and heads to her door, offering me a warm, contented smile over her shoulder before finally entering her house. I watch until the door shuts and locks behind her, then reach down, snake my cap, and turn my boots in the direction of my car. The night air is brisk as I step off the porch and I breathe it in deeply, my lungs inhaling a full breath for the first time in what feels like forever.

  Sliding into my car, I fit the cap snugly back on my head before glancing to Spencer’s window. I grin inwardly as joy and innocence combine, producing soothing warmth as they flare to life within me. Leaning my head back, I place my palm flat on my chest and soak in the feeling.

  I feel you too, Spence.

  Right where I need it the most.

  CLOSING MY CALCULUS BOOK, I toss it beside me on the couch just as the front door opens. I twist to watch my mother make her entrance.

  “What’s wrong?”

  My eyes rake over her troubled expression as she chucks her bag on the dining room table. Various college applications and random pamphlets from school peek out from the top of the canvas, reminding me that I should probably start looking into college soon. />
  She turns to face me, her hand resting on her hip as she anxiously nibbles on the inside of her mouth, the tell-tale sign of her worry. Her light brown eyes land on me and her features soften. “Claudia called. She said that Michelle Owen left today with her daughter and we think she may have gone back home.” She shakes her head. “She’s been increasingly agitated over the past couple of days. I knew something was going on when she didn’t show up in court after the temporary restraining order expired. She has absolutely no protection now, so if she goes back to him…”

  I nod in understanding. Leaving an already established life behind isn’t easy. Starting over somewhere new, trying to support your children on your own, always looking over your shoulder… Sadly, sometimes victims feel it’s just easier to go back home. I’ve seen this happen quite a few times with women at the shelter.

  She breathes in deeply and looks to the ceiling. “I just hope wherever they are, they’re safe.”

  My mouth curves downward as I remember Dalton’s interaction with her daughter Penny just a couple of weeks ago and I say a quick prayer for their safety as well.

  “Are you going up there?” I inquire as she kicks her heels off onto the floor.

  Her expression dips in apology. “Yeah, I’m sorry honey. I need to file some paperwork and check up on a few things.”

  The corners of my mouth lift slightly as I rise from the couch. My steps are soft as I walk to where she stands. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I breathe in her crisp apple scent before stating, “And to make sure you’re there in case anything happens with Michelle.”

  Her arms tighten around my shoulders before she releases me, grazing my cheek with her knuckle before she smiles. “How did I get so lucky with you?”

  I match her grin with one of my own and shrug. She bends at the waist to place a kiss on my forehead, asking as she rises, “Plans with Dalton tonight?”

  The smile on my face widens and I eagerly nod. “Yeah, he should be here within the hour.”

  Her eyes tighten on my joyful expression before she takes my hand into hers and pulls me behind her as she leads me to the couch. After my calculus book is placed on the coffee table, she sits and pats the cushion until I hesitantly take a seat next to her. I draw my legs underneath me as I turn to face her, uncertainty coursing right along with my rapid heartbeat.

  With my hand still enveloped in hers, she smiles tenderly before she speaks. “You and Dalton have been friends for a long time, and I know from experience when you start a relationship that stems from that close of a friendship, things can progress rather quickly.”

  Her mouth broadens into a brilliant smile and her shoulders shake as she laughs to herself. “Jim and I were the best of friends for years before we became high school sweethearts. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

  I give her a subtle nod. My mother’s love for her husband is still so very evident by the way she keeps him alive in our day-to-day conversations.

  She squeezes my hand and breathes in deeply. “Well, when you enter into a relationship with someone in which you’re already familiar, with no barriers of awkwardness or uncertainty, it’s easy to by-pass the time it typically takes to really get to know someone before you feel comfortable with them … physically.”

  Blood rushes my face, fanning its warmth as it spreads across the tops of my cheeks. She eyes my reaction, then smiles. “I know we’ve already had the talk, so I’m not going to subject you to it again, but I just want to make sure you’re careful, and not just in the physical aspect. You and Dalton … well, there’s something magnetic between the two of you, and it will be easy for you to get wrapped up in those feelings and lose sight of the fact that even though you’re close, there are certain things you still don’t know about each other. Things that need to be discussed in order to build a stable, lasting relationship. Things necessary to acknowledge about your pasts before taking that next step.”

  Her eyes narrow. “You need to tell him, Spencer.”

  My bottom lip is pinched between my teeth as I nod once again. Her features relax, then she continues to speak. “You will be eighteen next month, a legal adult, free to do what you choose. I trust you, your decisions, and I know you’ve seen the consequences of what happens when poor choices are made. You see them every day. So, just be careful. Be smart. But most importantly…” She pauses as she sucks in a breath, and moisture begins to build along the base of her dark lashes. “Be true to who you are. Be honest. Because I think Dalton’s reaction to your past will only serve to further strengthen the bond you two already share. And yours to his, just the same.”

  Tears prick my own eyes and my chin trembles slightly as I reach forward to wrap my arms around her neck. “I love you so much,” I whisper as my chin grazes her shoulder.

  She sniffles then tightens her hold. “I love you too, my sweet Spencer. I thank God every single day for bringing you into my life. I hope you know Jim would have been so proud of you. Of the beautiful, intelligent, caring young lady you’ve become.”

  Her arms release me and as I lean away from her, she adds, “And I also thank God I had to put you on birth control when you were thirteen.”

  My mouth flies open and I choke on a bubble of embarrassed laughter as it makes its way into my throat. “Mom!”

  She gives me a wink before rising off the couch to head in the direction of her room, leaving me alone in my semi-mortification.

  Once my face returns to its normal shade, I glance to the clock and hop off the couch to shower before Dalton arrives.

  Thirty minutes later, I’m scrubbed clean and fully dressed. Just as I slide the daisy flower crown headband over the top of my hair, the doorbell sounds. My heart jumps clear into my throat. My face heats with the jolt, and I take a final look in the mirror to make sure my cheeks aren’t as blood-red as I imagine them.

  My blonde hair is curled in loose waves and my makeup is minimal. With just a light brown eye shadow and mascara on my eyes, a nude gloss coating my lips, and my natural blush with Dalton’s arrival as it reddens my cheeks, I nod in satisfaction before grabbing my phone and shoving it into the back pocket of my trusty flare jeans. Soothing my hands over my Jimi Hendrix tee, I breathe deeply in an attempt to calm my nerves, then slide my feet into my favorite canvas flip-flops before finally opening my door.

  Voices filter through the air as I make my way to the living room, and I pray that my mother isn’t giving Dalton the same lecture she just lovingly bestowed upon me. But as their laughter hits my ears, I feel fairly certain their conversation has nothing to do with birth control or the physicality of relationships.

  Dalton turns at the sound of my arrival, and I momentarily forget how to breathe. You would think, after all these years, that my reaction to seeing him would change, but it never does. The air is sucked right out from my lungs as I mentally catalogue his appearance. His charcoal grey V-neck T-shirt is drawn taut across his entire upper body, his dark blue jeans ride low on his hips and bunch slightly around the tops of his black Docs, and pieces of his blond hair peek out at me from underneath the bill of yet another Yankees baseball cap. His mouth glides into an easy grin when his blue-grey stare lands on the top of my head, displaying his approval for the daisies crowning it.

  I return the expression with a giddy smile of my own, and it’s not until my mother clears her throat that we disengage. With her hair piled into a loose bun, brown tresses fall along the sides of her face as she looks to Dalton then to me before snatching her purse off the back of a dining room chair. Now dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, her Nikes pad softly across our wood floors as she quickly embraces Dalton before doing the same to me. As her arms release me, her brows rise while her head dips downward, silently reiterating our conversation from earlier. I nod wordlessly in response. A small grin breaks across her face as she shakes her head.

  “So lucky.”

  She winks then leans in once again and presses a kiss to my forehead befo
re leaving. The door shuts behind her and I twist back to face Dalton whose eyes remain trained on me, the intensity in his gaze spurring another warm flush across my cheeks.

  “I like the daisies.”

  His booted feet carry him to me within three strides, and the sweet musk scent of his presence saturates the air around me as he reaches forward. With a pass of his hand, he swipes the hair off my shoulder before curling his fingers at the base of my neck. His thumb strokes my cheek gently as he leans in to brush his full lips over mine.

  I press up on my toes and wrap my arms around his neck as his free arm folds around my waist, pressing me firmly against his body. Angling my head, I part my lips and am rewarded with a tender caress of his tongue as it enters my mouth. My body remains flush against his and our breathing quickens as he walks us backward until we hit the back of the couch. With his fingers still entwined in my hair, he pulls me with him as he widens his stance and secures his weight against the plaid upholstery. His teeth nip my bottom lip and my entire body surges with a familiar electric current in response. A moan escapes me as I tighten my arms, only for him to break the kiss with a wide grin against my lips. After running his nose along mine and giving me a light peck on the very end, he releases his hold on my hair.

  His thumbs find my belt loops as his fingers splay around my hips. “I could do that all night,” he remarks.

  I smile with the knowledge that I affect him the same way he affects me. Trying to calm my own breathing, I lift my hands to place them against his rapidly rising chest. His heart beats wildly in sync with mine as we stare deeply into each other’s eyes.

  A mischievous grin crosses my lips. “Why don’t you then?”

  The whites of his teeth flash before he shakes his head. “I need a sunset, Pencil. Let’s take a ride.”

  I find myself mesmerized by how youthful and carefree he seems at this moment, very much a rarity when it comes to Dalton Greer. I disregard my usual snarky remark when he calls me Pencil, giving him a wide smile and a nod instead.

 

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