Richmond-Banks Brothers 1: A Hopeless Place (BWWM Interracial Romance)

by Coco Jordan

  “The Richmond-Banks’ are here,” I whispered back.

  “Yes, they’re here every Sunday,” my mom replied.

  “Bennett went into the hospital a couple days ago,” I whispered. “They told me to go home for the weekend. Someone should be there with him.”

  “Shh,” my mother shushed me. “We’ll talk about this after church.”

  “I have to get out of here,” I said, collecting my bag and scooting out of the pew.

  I walked right past Sterling and Ingrid, diverting my eyes so as not to meet theirs. I ran-walked the mile back to my house, all the while having an internal conversation with Ingrid about what a shitty mother she was. In my mind, I chided her for only caring about her public image and herself, and for being a worthless human being who didn’t know the definition of sacrifice.

  By the time I arrived home I’d calmed down, but only slightly. I jerked open my car door and threw myself inside. I tore out of the driveway and headed downtown to the wireless store to get Bennett a cell phone. I wanted him to have a direct line of contact with me at all times. As long as Ingrid didn’t find out about it, she wouldn’t be able to take it away from him.

  I returned home an hour later to see Alexis’s car parked out in the street.

  “Alexis?” I called as I walked in the front door, kicking off my wet boots.

  “Hey, stranger.” Alexis peeked out from around the corner. She walked up and placed a long, lanky arm around my shoulders, her faint, flowery perfume wrapping me up like a familiar hug.

  “I heard you were with a boy this morning,” I teased, pretending I didn’t know about her and Slater Goodwin.

  Alexis rolled her eyes. “Yeah, whatevs. We just went out for breakfast.”

  We trailed down the hall toward the living room, where we both settled into our favorite spots on the family sectional.

  “It’s weird not having you here,” she said, picking at her paint-chipped nails.

  “Get used to it,” I said. “I love my job.”

  “Isn’t that Bennett kid weird, or something?” she asked. “Or is he just slow? Isn’t he, like, thirty?”

  “He’s twenty-four,” I said, defending him. “And no, he’s not weird or slow, or anything. He has cystic fibrosis.”

  “Oh,” Alexis said. She probably didn’t even know what that was.

  “He’s actually pretty cute,” I found myself saying. “Wow, I can’t believe I just said that.”

  “You totally want him,” Alexis said, her eyes lighting up. “Maybe the two of you can get married, and then when he dies, you can inherit all of his money? You’d be so loaded.”

  “Who the hell thinks like that?” I scoffed at her with my best big-sister tone. “That’s so wrong, Alexis. Wow.”

  “I’m kidding,” Alexis said with an eye roll. “Duh.”

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from Spencer flashed across the screen:

  SORRY 4 LAST NIGHT. WANT TO MEET UP B4 I LEAVE 2DAY?

  My head told me to ignore him, but within seconds, I began typing a response. I wanted to write OF COURSE! But my inner Cherish reminded me to play the game. I made him wait a few more minutes before I sent my response.

  “Who just texted you?” Alexis asked in a rare moment of caring about anyone else besides herself. She must have missed me after all.

  “Spencer,” I replied as I re-read his message several times. “Can you believe that? Three years of nothing, and then all of a sudden, he wants back into my life. At least, I think he does.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I ran into him a few nights ago at Mulligan’s,” I said. “He asked me on a date the next night, but then he got weird. I don’t know what the hell’s going on. And now he wants me to meet him before he goes back to Nashville.”

  I NEED 2 KNOW IF UR COMING.

  He texted me again, growing impatient from my initial lack of a response.

  WHAT TIME? I texted him back. My inner Cherish was shaking her head.

  NOW? he replied.

  FINE, I wrote him back.

  Potter Park had a serene view of the local lake where we used to go fishing and hiking and have picnics back in the day. I hadn’t visited in the three years that had passed since we’d broken up. I could never bring myself to take anyone else there. It was almost sacred, a place where time stood still and our younger selves were still frolicking around, laughing and kissing and playing as if life had never happened and we never went our separate ways.

  “I’m leaving,” I announced to Alexis as I stood and stretched. My heart raced in a way that it hadn’t in a very long time and my entire body lit with electric anticipation.

  “Where you headed?” she asked, feigning disinterest.

  “I’m meeting Spencer,” I said. “I probably shouldn’t, but I want to hear what he has to say before he leaves. Is this a bad idea?”

  “Probably,” Alexis responded, avoiding eye contact. She grabbed her phone and began typing something. “Guys suck.”

  My heart ached for her, as I could only imagine the emotional roller coaster she was about to ride if she stuck with Slater Goodwin for much longer.

  I hurried down the hall to freshen up, touching up my makeup and stealing a few spritzes from Alexis’s signature gardenia perfume that just so happened to be laying out on the bathroom counter. I slid on a pair of dark skinny jeans, black flats, and a creamy blouse. The last thing I wanted was for him to think I was trying too hard, but I also wanted to look better than I had the night of our ill-fated pizza date.

  As I drove to Potter Park, an inner dialogue began to play. I imagined Spencer telling me I should move to Nashville to be with him, or maybe he’d tell me he was moving back home to attend college nearby to be with me. Or maybe he’d suggest we keep talking to see where this was headed.

  If nothing else, I just wanted him to say he made a mistake.

  Within minutes I’d arrived, my heart thumping loud in my ears as I tried to play it cool. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him standing outside his Range Rover, leaning against the door with his hands casually stuffed in his pockets. He was watching me. I could feel it. The second I turned his way and our eyes met, he smiled.

  I popped a piece of cinnamon gum into my mouth and smoothed my dark hair down.

  “Hey,” I said as I climbed out of my car and walked his way.

  “Hi,” he said, his eyes locked into mine. He reached over and pulled me closer to him as a gust of cold March wind ruffled through our hair. I leaned my head on his chest and he rested his chin on top. We had always fit together so perfectly, and we still did.

  The warmth of this breath on top of my head took the chill right out of the early spring air, and I couldn’t help but breathe him in. All of him. Ivory soap. Burberry cologne. Vanilla car freshener. Clean laundry. It was a concoction that conjured up every sentimental memory of us all at the same time.

  “I’ve missed this,” I sighed.

  “Me too,” he said.

  “Why’d it take you so long to reach out to me?” I asked. I pulled away to look at him, but didn’t let go.

  “I don’t know,” he said, staring off. “Pride?”

  “You’re the one who broke up with me, remember?” The sharp jab of the painful recollection of the day he told me it was over, that there was no future for us, came back as fresh as ever. It stung me all over again and briefly took me to that dark place, if only for a second.

  “I never stopped loving you,” he said. “I just didn’t know how it was going to work out with me being three hundred miles away and us never seeing each other.”

  He failed to bring up his indiscretion, like always, still standing by his claim that kissing another girl while drunk at a party hardly counted as cheating.

  “We could’ve made it work,” I said. The desperate, teenager in love part of me would’ve moved mountains to stay together back then.

  “Maybe.”

  “I would’ve made it work.”
<
br />   “My dad…” he started. “Never mind.”

  “Your dad what?” I asked, stepping back.

  “He thought you’d be a distraction. He wanted me to have the true college experience, you know?”

  “And I would’ve prevented that?”

  “I think so.”

  “Does your dad know you’re talking to me now? I mean, I know it’s only been a couple days, but what would he think? And do you care what he thinks now?” I could taste the bitterness of my words, but behind it was a sliver of hope, the sliver that always remained, no matter what.

  He ran his fingers through his thick auburn hair, leaving a mess of tousled tendrils behind. “Everything is so complicated right now, Amara. You don’t even know.”

  “Right,” I said, hand on my hip. “That’s what you said last night.”

  He reached his arm out to my hips and pulled me back into him. “All I know is that no one I’ve been with since we broke up has made me feel half the way I felt when I was with you.”

  My eyes welled as he said the words I’d been needing to hear for years. Spencer reached up and wiped away a tear that had formed in the corner of my eye and leaned his face down toward mine. “I don’t want to go back to Nashville. I want to stay here with you.” He sucked in a deep breath, and for a minute, appeared to be considering it. “But I-I can’t. I don’t think my dad would allow it. I’d probably be disowned. Cut off.”

  “Do you even want to be a doctor, Spencer?” I asked. “Biology was your worst subject. I did all your homework, remember?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “I do.”

  “Whatever daddy tells you to do, right?”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “Okay.” I didn’t even try to hide the sarcasm in my voice.

  “Hey, now,” Spencer said, pulling me into his arms and wrapping them around me. He leaned down and planted small kisses on my forehead.

  “I’ve missed you,” I blurted. The words came so natural when I was in his arms. “I never stopped loving you.”

  I silently kicked myself for laying my cards on the table like that. Cherish would’ve killed me for admitting that to him. It gave him the power I’d been trying to take back for so long.

  Spencer stopped kissing my forehead, took me by the hand, and led me back to my car. My heart sunk. Our little meeting was coming to an end just when it was starting to get good.

  “I love you too,” he said. “Always have. Always will.”

  “Where do we go from here?”

  He shrugged. “Let’s just play things by ear and see what happens. I still have a year left at Vanderbilt, anyway. Then four years of med school after that. Then my residency…”

  “So, you wouldn’t come back home to be with me?” I couldn’t help but ask. “You can’t go to school around here?”

  “I would if I could,” he said, his blue eyes earnest. I believed him. “My dad would never let me in a million years. You know that.”

  “So what do I do, just wait for you? That’s not fair to me.” I tried to stifle the emotional vomit that was about to happen. “Would you want me to move to be near you?”

  “I think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves,” he said with a chuckle, his words slicing my heart like a knife.

  “Maybe this was a mistake,” I said. “Us talking again.”

  I crossed my arms and stared down at the greening spring grass. The faint rumble of thunder filled the thick, humid air and tiny raindrops began to fall.

  “Hey,” he said, cupping my cheek in his hand. “Don’t be like that.”

  “But it is like that, Spencer,” I said, stifling sobs. “You were the love of my life. You were my first love. When you broke up with me, it destroyed me. I’d never felt so worthless. I was depressed for a year. I never thought I’d be happy again. I almost had a nervous fucking breakdown because of you.”

  Spencer winced, as if he hadn’t known. I was sure he did, though. People talked in Halverford.

  “You told me we were going to be together forever,” I continued, “and I believed you. I was a naïve little teenager who believed everything that came out of your stupid, lying mouth.”

  “Amara,” he said, bracing his hands on my shoulders and looking me squarely in the eyes. “You need to calm down.”

  “Can you blame me, Spencer? What are you doing to me right now?”

  “I’m telling you, it’ll be okay this time. Everything’s going to work out.” His words were convincing but his expression not so much.

  “Easy for you to say,” I huffed as I wriggled out of his hold. “I’m over this.”

  “What are you talking about?” Spencer asked. “Over what?”

  “You. Me. Us. This entire conversation.”

  “All I’m saying,” he said with a frustrated sigh, his voice low, “is that we should keep in touch and see what happens. I don’t like not having you in my life, Amara.”

  “You choose to not have me in your life,” I reminded him.

  “Look, if you meet someone else and fall in love, I’ll bow out gracefully and you and your new guy can live happily ever after,” he said with sort of casualness that broke my heart, as if I wasn’t worth fighting for. He rubbed my arm in a failed attempt to comfort me as he stared at my tear-filled eyes.

  “You really know how to make a girl feel good,” I said, looking away. I reached down, clicking the car door open. “I have to go.”

  Spencer said nothing, just nodded as he stared at my face before leaning in and giving me one last kiss on the lips. Within seconds, the scattered raindrops from above turned into a massive downpour. I climbed in my car and shut the door. Through the rain-beaded window, I watched him run back to his Range Rover. As I pulled away, I saw him in my rearview, standing against his car, getting soaked, watching me drive away.

  BENNETT

  I paged through the thick, leather bound book in my hands, trying to concentrate on the words in front of me. Nothing made sense. I wasn’t sucked away into another world. I couldn’t escape like I normally did. My mind was on Amara and what she was doing and who she was with.

  I bookmarked the page I was on and sat it down on the nightstand before sinking back into the pillow. I shut my eyes for just a second before the faint click of a car door outside brought me back into the moment. My parents had left that morning for another one of their trips, and I could only hope it was her.

  “Knock, knock,” a sweet, singsong voice said minutes later as my door creaked open. She walked out of the darkness and stood by my bed, smiling warmly, but her cheeks were red and flushed and her eyes were watery. She’d been crying.

  “Your parents gone?” she asked. “They left a note for me. I haven’t read it yet.”

  “Yes,” I said. “Ten days, this time.”

  She probably didn’t notice it, but her face lit slightly with that revelation. I couldn’t blame her. Working for my mom wasn’t an easy feat. She was always watching, always lurking, always suspecting. Sometimes I swore she wanted something to be wrong so she could feel vindicated for being so suspicious and paranoid all the time.

  “I got you something,” she said, pulling a white plastic sack from behind her.

  “What?” I sat up. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  She pulled out a box containing what looked to be a cell phone. “Ta da!”

  “A cell phone?” I asked. “Why?” I’d never had one, nor had I ever had the need for one before.

  “I want you to be able to get a hold of me anytime you need,” she said as she pulled it out of the box. “Day or night. No stupid buzzers or bells or intercoms. No relying on your parents to speak on your behalf. You’re a grown man, Bennett.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “This is your first step toward autonomy,” she said as she handed it to me. The sleek, shiny metal was cool against my palm. “I have big plans for you.”

  “You didn’t have to do this, really,” I said as I presse
d buttons and began familiarizing myself with the little device.

  “Now you can text me anytime,” she said, smiling. “And our messages will be strictly confidential. No one’ll see them but us.”

  “Oh?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “That’s not what I meant,” she said as she nudged me and laughed. “Just please don’t tell your parents you have this. Hide it and keep it on silent at all times.”

  “And defy my parents?” I said cheekily. “Excellent idea, Amara. Best one you’ve had in a long time.”

  “Are you being sarcastic?” she asked. She didn’t know what to think of me sometimes. I could tell.

  “Not at all,” I said in earnest. “I love it. Thank you.”

  “It’s a pretty basic phone,” she said. “I couldn’t afford a smart phone, or anything high-tech.”

  “Don’t apologize. This is fine,” I assured her, cracking a genuine half-smile.

  She whipped her phone from her back pocket and composed a text, and within seconds, my phone buzzed in my hand.

  “My first ever text message,” I said. “Put this in the history books.”

  “What me to show you how to send one?” she offered.

  “I think I can figure it out.”

  “Okay, I’m waiting.”

  Several seconds later, her phone buzzed.

  She read the message out loud. “Would you like to watch a movie with me?” She laughed. “You’re so proper, Bennett.”

  She looked up at me for a split second before responding, taking me in as if she were momentarily lost in thought. “Sure. Let’s watch a movie. What did you have in mind?”

  “You pick.”

  “Wait, do I know you right now? Who are you?” she teased.

  “Enjoy it while it lasts,” I said with a smirk. “So, I take it you’re not mad at me for yesterday?”

  “I’m over it,” she replied, as if she had bigger things on her plate to deal with. “Just don’t do that again.”

  “You have my word.”

  “Let’s watch The Notebook,” she said as she grabbed the remote and got comfortable next to me. “I could use a good release.”