by T. Bester
“Will you look at me?”
God, his voice undoes me, and I hate my body for reacting that way, for still reacting to him at all. But it comes as naturally to me as breathing. He tugs, and I slowly, reluctantly, turn my head. But instead of looking him in the eye, I stare at the small sliver of skin exposed by his V-neck shirt. I know what that skin feels like, soft and warm. And when I lick it-
No. Don’t do that.
Nathan bends lower, his knees brushing mine. “I’m not going away, Savvy.”
His voice is gentle, I can barely hear it against the roar of the wind. Or maybe it’s the roar of my own heartbeat that drowns his voice out. His nickname for me makes my throat tighten. He started calling me that shortly after we met, even though I hated it. But, he was the only person I allowed to call me that, liking the way it made me feel. I don’t feel that way anymore. Now, it just hurts. Bruises.
My head lifts, and my eyes crash with Nathan’s.
“What do you want, Nate?”
He straightens to his full height, forcing me to crane my neck. Compared to me the guy is already a giant, but when he looks at me with such intent I feel so much smaller.
“How are you?” His eyes flicker over my face, his lips a tight line as if he doesn’t like what he sees. I almost snort at that - I know for a fact he doesn’t like what he sees. Not the way I want him to anyway.
My brows pucker, and I feel anger simmering beneath the surface of my skin. After how he treated me…
“You have no right asking me that.” It comes out as a whisper. I try to turn away but Nathan grabs my arm again. “And you had no right telling Toby. It was between you and me.”
“Savannah, please.”
My head whips around. “I’m fine, Nathan. Okay?” I snatch my arm from his grip, and glare at him. “I’m fine!”
I’m not, but I’ve already made the mistake of allowing Nathan to see me break once, I’m not doing that a second time. And as the saying goes, fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
Not today. Not ever.
“I’m going to be late,” I tell him. “I have to go.”
“In this storm?” He looks incredulous and it makes my palm itch. I want to slap that concerned look right off his ruggedly handsome face. As if summoned, the sky cracks with thunder, rattling the ground. It’s not safe to travel, I know this, but I can’t stand the thought of being alone in my new apartment and I’m still too pissed with Toby to go to the apartment he shares with Griffin. So, that leaves me with one option, and it’s the only option that will get me away from Nathan.
Mom and Dad.
I stiffen my spine, resolve settling in my belly. In the same breath, I silence the alarm bells going off like rapid-fire in my head.
“I can take care of myself.” I say it as though I believe it, wholeheartedly. This time when I turn around and head towards the student lot, he doesn’t stop me but instead just walks with me.
“Let me come with you,” he says, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He casts a glance at me, but I’m too focused on making it to my Dad’s beat-up old Ford truck without committing homicide. I stop in front of my Dad’s truck.
“I wouldn’t get in a damn wheelbarrow with you, let alone a car. Now let me go!”
“I can’t let you drive in this weather, Van. Either you let me come with you or-"
“Or what, Nathan? You can’t tell me what to do!”
“No, but I care about you, you’re my friend.”
It’s the way he says friend that makes my expression fall, taking my heart with it. He means it, and worse still, he believes it. His sincerity, the depth with which he says it, it’s more than I want to hear. I shake my head, and turn away, unlocking the drivers’ side door.
“We’re not friends, Nathan. I don’t think we ever were.”
Lies! He’s your best friend!
I shut the door on his sharp intake of breath, but still drive away.
2
NATHAN
“YOU’RE A BUTTHEAD.”
I hold the phone away from my ear, and frown as if my younger sister, Zoey, can see me. The little brat.
“Careful there, Bean, want me to leave you at the airport?”
I would never do that but I’m grumpy as shit. Watching your best friend drive away from you will do that. And after the way I treated Savannah the last time I saw her ‘butthead’ is the nicest possible thing my sister can call me. I fucked up that good.
“I’m just being honest, Nate.”
I imagine her arched brows drawn low, her mouth drawn into a disapproving pout. Zoey is only five-three but that look is enough to make a grown man’s balls shrink into themselves. I shudder.
“I know.” I heave out a heavy breath, and lean back in my office chair. My six-six frame makes it creak in protest and normally I would have a few jibs and jabs about it from my colleagues, but I’m alone in the office. Toby was gone when I got back, probably trying to hide after his slip-up, and everyone else has taken a ‘snow day’. There’s nothing to do, but I need the distraction.
And talking to my sister? Not helping. She’s also pissed. I remind myself that I called her because she is one of two people in this entire world that I trust completely. The other person just left me standing in the student lot without a backwards glance. Hell, I deserved so much worse. But I had one thing that can give a man the power to change the world.
Hope.
“I don’t know how to fix it,” I add quietly. I look out the window. “And I’m worried I’ll never get another shot.”
I pull my fingers through my hair, and the plan I’d set in motion a week after I fucked things up will either play to my advantage or blow up in my face. Right now, I’m thinking the latter.
“Have you told her yet?”
God, this girl can read my damn mind like an open playbook. I both love and hate it about my relationship with Zoey. She’s three years younger than I am, but one of my best friends. I’d do anything for her, and while most guys would dread having their kid sister attending the same school. I can’t wait to have Zoey close to me. She’s been studying in Austin for the last six months and I strongly suspect that a broken heart is what has her coming home. No matter the reason though — even if I want to hunt down the fuckwit who hurt my sister — I think I need her here as much as she needs to be here.
“I didn’t get a chance. She ran out of here before I could say anything. And she wouldn’t talk to me before she left.”
Zoey snorts, and I hear her order her third caramel Latte in almost an hour. “What did you expect, Nate? For her to throw herself at you and take you back?”
“Uh, kind of.”
Now she’s outright laughing at me, and I grumble under my breath. “You’re such a boy. Savannah is not like the other dimwits you’ve been known to entertain. She’s smart, and she’s certainly not going to fall over herself to get your attention. You gotta work for it.”
I rub my hand down my face, and then squeeze my neck. “Zo, I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive me. You should have seen how she looked at me.”
The hurt in her eyes is burned into my memory, and it makes my gut churn with guilt. Fuck. Zoey sighs, and I picture her nibbling on her bottom lip. She does that when she’s thinking, usually coming up with something to bail me out of trouble. She did that a lot when I was in high school. I was a shit-stirrer, and somehow, it was my kid sister who saved my ass every time. I owe her.
“I wish I had the answer for you, big brother, but you need to figure it out. And hopefully, she won’t want to leave when she finds out that I’m your sister. Or that you own the apartment we’re living in.”
Jesus. What have I done?
“I’m sorry I got you into this, Zo.” I murmur. “If Savannah decides that she doesn’t want to live with you because of me then…”
I draw a blank because I can’t think further than my nose right now. I rest my elbows on my knees, my phone still p
ressed to my ear in one hand and my free hand pulling at my hair in frustration.
“Yeah well,” she grumbles, unhappy with me. “I guess I’ll just have to hope she’s as gracious as you say. Besides, she might meet me in person and decide she doesn’t like me, even before she finds out that you and I are related.”
I roll my eyes at that. “Not possible. Everyone likes you, Zo, and I have a feeling you and Sav are going to be just fine. You’ll like her more in person.” I swallow hard, thinking back to Savannah’s expression before she left me in the lot. Man, I need to fix this. Not having Savannah in my life has been absolute torture. Still is.
I check my watch. It’s been over an hour since Savannah left and from the looks of it, the storm outside isn’t going away. In fact, they’ve issued storm warnings and advised that everyone stay off the roads, and inside.
Even Zoey’s flight has been delayed on account of the shitty weather. Much to her dismay.
“Zo, I need to go.” I start packing my messenger bag. “Call me as soon as you know what time your flight is landing, okay? I’ll be there to fetch you, no matter what time.”
“Ahh, you’re such a sweetheart, Nate.” Her sickly sweet voice makes me snicker. Little shit. “But you’re still a butthead.”
“Yeah, yeah, heard you loud and clear the first time, Bean.”
“Good.” I hear shuffling in the background. “So, have you left yet? You’re going to have to leave now if you want to catch her before she gets to her parents.”
I smile. My sister knows me too well.
“I’m leaving now.”
AFTER AN HOUR on the road, panic starts to gnaw at my gut. The road between Hudson and the small beach-side town of Cirtland Hills is long, with miles of nothing. The storm is so bad I can’t see more than a few feet ahead. I check my phone and without hesitation dial Savannah’s number. Chances are she’ll ignore it if she sees that it’s me but it’s worth a shot.
Straight to voicemail.
Shit.
I toss my phone across the cab of my truck, frustrated and worried. I should have insisted I go with her, but she’s so stubborn and if it weren’t for her open hostility, I would have just climbed in. I try the radio again, but it’s just static. The snow outside is so thick, falling in waves with the wind, and it’s no wonder they told people to stay off the road. I shake my head. The only reason Savannah decided to drive to her parents today was because seeing me again spooked her. I know her well enough to know when she’s making a run for it.
I’m about to hit my steering wheel — again, because I’m an ass — when something on the left catches my eye. It’s a flash of blue. My truck skids to a halt, the studded tires gripping the snow-covered road with force.
It’s Savannah.
Leaving my key in the ignition, I jump out and close the distance, coming up to the driver’s side window. I press my face against the glass, and find Savannah hunched in the corner of the cab. Her head whips up when I knock. Her face is red and blotchy — she’s been crying — but her lips are a light purple. She points to the door, and mouths “I’m stuck”.
“I’m coming back!” I yell hysterically. She nods, acknowledging that she heard me. I run to my truck and grab the tire iron and then motion for Savannah to cover her face, away from the window. It smashes to pieces. I’m careful to remove any shards before helping Savannah climb out.
She’s frozen, clutching at my neck as I carry her back to my truck. I shake my jacket and wrap it around her shoulders. After grabbing her bag, I get back in.
“Are you okay?” I ask, looking her over. She’s still shivering, but instead of scooting over to warm her up myself, I turn the heat up, making the windows fog from the inside.
“My Dad’s truck broke down, and my phone died.” It doesn’t really answer my question.
“How long have you been stuck out here?”
“Maybe an hour.” She sniffles, and I catch the wobble of her bottom lip. “You’re the first person to drive past here.”
No wonder she’s upset. She’s been stuck in the middle of (almost) nowhere for over an hour with no way of getting help.
Suddenly, I’m the one who’s pissed. Does she not realize how stupid this was? How bad things could have been had I not decided to come after her?
I frown. “Do you realize how irresponsible it was to drive into the middle of a snow storm?”
I can’t help the bite in my tone, but hell, the idea of something happening to this girl makes my insides ache. I won’t be able to handle it. A world without Savannah…
I shake my head, ridding my mind of those thoughts immediately.
She’s okay, I remind myself. She’s here.
“If you’re just going to tell me how stupid I am then I’d rather freeze to death in my Dad’s truck.”
She folds her arms across her chest, and something inside me softens. Even when putting herself in such shitty situations, she can still be petulant. And of course it’s my fault. She challenges me at every turn. I’ve missed it. God, have I missed it.
“Why’d you do it?”
Her gaze whips up, her light blue eyes pinning me. I see the defiance there, as if it’s a color that makes her eyes pop. “Like I told you, I have to take my Dad’s truck back. He needs it.”
We both know she’s lying, and the fact that she can’t tell me the truth the way she used to makes me hurt. I regret how I handled things with us.
“I wish you wouldn’t lie to me.”
At that, Savannah’s nose scrunches and she angrily pushes her glasses up the bridge of her button nose. “Do you think you deserve better?”
I open my mouth, ready to beg for my life if I have to, but instead, my shoulders hunch forward and I let out a tired breath. “You should have just let me go with you, Van. I would have come with you.”
“It’s not about you!” she snaps, throwing her delicate hands in the air. “God, why am I even surprised that you’d think this is about you?” She shifts around and hits my arm. “Everything is always about you, isn’t it!” She hits me again, bunching her small hands into fists and hitting my arm. “Why did you even come, Nathan? Tell me why you came when I asked you to let me go!”
The hitch in her voice tells me she’s crying, so upset that she keeps hitting me, her fists pounding away while she gets rid of her own frustration. On a physical level I don’t feel much, she’s so small and light, her hits barely pack a punch, but emotionally, I feel it all. Every bit of regret and anguish coating my insides. I catch her wrists and haul her into my lap. She writhes — yelling at me, crying, and then she sags, her body vibrating as she cries into my chest. Breathing becomes hard, because I know that I’ve put her through the wringer. I never deserved her from the start, even as a friend, and now even less. I give her as long as she needs, not sure how much time passes until she lifts her head, pushes her glasses up the ridge of her button nose and stares at me.
Her gaze makes my chest constrict. I can see the questions in her eyes, and hell if I haven’t tormented myself with those same questions for the past three weeks. It might not seem like a long time, but I was still having withdrawals from spending time with Savannah. Before I screwed up, we saw each other every day, and sometimes, it was all day. With someone like her, you can’t go from all to nothing — it’s like having a heroin addict go cold turkey after years of using the drug.
Savannah breaks the silence, her voice scratchy and hoarse. “I want to hate you,” she swallows, “but no matter how hard I try, I can’t. I just can’t…”
There it is again, that tight feeling in my chest. I breath out and it’s shaky, revealing how affected I am by having her so close. “Well, I hate me enough for the both of us. I can promise you that. And I wish every day I could-"
“Don’t,” she cuts me off. “I can’t listen to you tell me how bad you feel. I don’t want to know, Nate. I don’t want to care. You don’t deserve that from me.”
Her words sting, a slow pain unfu
rling in my gut, but I don’t blame her. In fact, I want her to hate me because that’s better than having her not care at all. I swallow, a sudden lump in my throat, and lift my hand to brush a silver-grey strand out of her face. But I stop myself, knowing she wouldn’t want me touching her. Maybe that’s for the best — because one touch, is just never enough. And I need to earn her trust again. I won’t achieve that by touching her. Although technically, I already am.
As if to realize this fact too, Savannah looks down, and then slowly extricates herself from my hold. As small as what she is, I feel the loss of her instantly and it’s almost as harsh as the day she turned her back on me for good. I see today as a victory though, because she spoke to me.
I clear my throat. “Do you want to let your folks know we’re on our way? I’m sure they must be worried.”
Savannah glances between me and my phone and then reluctantly takes it. She dials her parents, and while she’s talking to her Mom I get us back on the road. When she’s done, she places my phone back in the cup holder and looks out the window. I steal a few glances here and there, taking on the delicate pout of her lips, high cheek bones, rounded jaw, cute button nose, long silver-grey hair that reaches her butt. She might prefer being a wallflower but she sure as hell doesn’t look like one. And while most guys would overlook her, be intimidated by her sharp wit and snarky mouth, I am as intrigued by her as ever. I never saw her as a challenge and maybe that’s why having her walk away from me was so damn hard, our friendship was the most natural thing in the world. She tried to fight it, I know she did, but she was as helpless to the pull as I was, and in the end, she had no more control over entering my orbit than I had entering hers.
The difference?
I’m still caught in her orbit, and I have no intention of leaving.
No matter how long it takes her to forgive me.
3
SAVANNAH
THEY’RE LAUGHING, and not lightly either. They’re full on belly-laughing while Mom gives Nathan another helping of her famous Blue Crab soup. And by ‘they’ I mean Nathan and the traitorous man who I call ‘Dad’. I try not to show my disapproval of their ‘bromance’ but it’s not happening — that much is evident when my Mom catches me scowling at the brute while he tells my Dad about…wait, what are they actually talking about?