Where You Belong

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Where You Belong Page 12

by Tracie Puckett


  “Oh,” he said, and while his hold around my arm loosened for a moment, he never pulled away.

  “We had this mutual admiration for you and all the charities you’ve worked closely with. For her, it was your work with the West Coast animal shelters. She loved your warmth and compassion, and I . . . I just swore I loved everything about you.”

  Avery blushed, and it was cute, considering he had compliments thrown at him on a daily basis, and yet I’d never seen him react quite like this.

  “In all seriousness, you were like this perfect, unattainable guy who we always dreamed of knowing but never imagined we’d actually meet.”

  Avery remained quiet for the next block or so, absorbing what little information I’d given him. I hoped that I’d said enough to clear up the confusion he’d had about today, but the longer the silence stretched on, the more I worried that I’d made him uncomfortable.

  “Did I say too much?”

  “Never.” I shivered as a gust of wind swept through the street, and Avery used that as an excuse to tighten his hold on me. “I don’t want to come between you and your friend, Roz.”

  “I know. But you’re in the picture now, and . . . I don’t know. I guess I don’t want to step on her toes any more than she’d want to step on mine.”

  “How are you stepping on her toes?”

  “She likes you, Avery.”

  “But I like you,” he said, and I stalled there on the sidewalk at his admission.

  Avery stopped, too, weaving his fingers into mine and drawing me closer. With a single step, he closed the empty space between us and rested his forehead against mine, holding my gaze with his intense brown eyes.

  Breath abandoned me. As if it was the first time I’d met him all over again, something about Avery’s touch erased the lines of the world, blurring everything around us.

  The rise and fall of his chest fell perfectly in sync with mine, and with each slow exhalation, I could taste his sweet breath on my lips.

  Avery’s thoughts were in his touch—the way he combed his fingers through my hair, across my shoulders, and down my arms. He took my hands again, and a gentle squeeze assured me that his heart was in this. He didn’t have to say a word; a simple touch said it all. He craved this closeness. He wanted this moment. He wanted us.

  “You’d would walk away from me in a heartbeat if it meant saving your friendship,” he whispered.

  “Is that a question?”

  “No,” he said quietly. “I know you. You’d never put yourself ahead of anyone else.”

  “I hate that about me.”

  “I don’t.” His nose brushed mine, and his eyes drifted shut, and for the briefest moment I thought Avery might kiss me. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, only that a kiss would only complicate things so much more, and yet I welcomed the complication. “So where does that leave us?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, matching his whisper. “I guess we need time. I can’t ignore how much I’m hurting my friend. I have to think about everything and figure out what comes next.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I need to talk to her.”

  “You do,” he agreed, taking a step back. He pulled away and cleared his throat. “Would it help if I tried to—”

  “No.” I shook my head. “This has to come from me, but thank you. In the meantime . . . I should probably get home. I need to decide what I’m going to say and then call her—the sooner the better. I hate that she’s mad at me.”

  “That’s a good idea. Let’s walk back to the car,” he said, keeping his hands to himself this time. “I’ll get you home.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Avery dropped me off at the house after a short and silent ride through town.

  He knew as well as I did that things hadn’t gone the way they were supposed to today, and I felt guilty for dragging him into yet another uncomfortable situation. First Mom and Dad, and then my friends . . .

  I wouldn’t blame him if he ran away and never looked back.

  The most sickening part was the unknown. Where did I stand with him? He liked me, and I liked him, but would any of that even matter?

  Carter’s feelings mattered, too, and I couldn’t betray one of my best friends over a boy. So Avery and I were stuck in this weird grayish limbo until I could figure out a way through this terrible mess.

  “Get in here,” Mom said, opening the front door. I turned from where I stood on the porch, waving goodbye to Avery as he left the driveway. “Now.”

  “You know, today’s sucked, and nothing you’re going to say will make me feel any worse than I already feel.” I followed her into the house and shut the door, but she turned to me before I could take another step into the foyer.

  “Roz, I was going to let this whole thing play itself out,” she said, shaking her head. “But enough’s enough.”

  “Enough’s enough? What are you—”

  “Nora called.”

  I sighed, hating that this was all about to blow up. This is exactly what I’d hoped to avoid.

  “Carter rushed home in tears after leaving Mel’s, and Nora can’t get a word out of her. And now here she is, calling to ask if I have any idea what happened at that dinner today. I imagine I know exactly what happened.”

  “I’m not doing this,” I said, throwing my hands up, but she moved in front of me and pointed her finger in my face.

  “You owed Carter an explanation. You blindsided one of your best friends.”

  “I never meant—”

  “You were so caught up in what you were feeling that you didn’t stop for one second to consider how any of this would affect her.”

  I looked down. “I didn’t think—”

  “No, you didn’t. You didn’t think, Roz. Besides the fact that you’re selfishly hurting Carter, you’re running around with this boy like he’s someone you can trust, and you can’t. I don’t buy into any of that sickeningly sweet charm. He’s fooling you, and I don’t trust him.”

  “Yeah, I got that, considering that childish attitude you’ve had since he walked through the door on Monday night,” I yelled. “You’re mad, God only knows why, and I’m sick of it. You’ve walked away from me. You’ve ignored me. And for what? Because you don’t like him? Interesting excuse considering you never gave him a chance. He brought you flowers. He treated your family with respect. He’s been nothing but kind to me, and yet he’s still not good enough for you. For God’s sake, Mom! He offered to buy me a car!”

  “Considering it was a genuine offer.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “That he’s not expecting something from you in return.”

  “Are you kidding?” I clutched my fingers at the roots of my hair. “He felt awful for what happened, and he was only trying to make it right.”

  Her lips tightened as she studied me, and I sensed there was something she wasn’t saying. That was so unlike Mom, to hold back her thoughts, and yet she’d done it a lot this past week. And what did she mean by letting this whole thing play itself out? Had she just been sitting by, waiting for Avery to show his true colors—the ones she was so convinced made him such a bad guy?

  “You don’t know him like I do.”

  “You don’t know him at all,” she argued. “How are you forgetting the problems he’s made for himself—and run from—because he was too cowardly to face them?”

  “If you knew anything, you’d know the Evie Lawson thing was a publicity stunt. There’s nothing there.”

  “Of course he’d tell you that,” she scoffed. “He’s toying with you.”

  “He’s not—”

  “And the drugs?” she said, raising her voice. “Are we going to forget that he was arrested on Halloween for cocaine possession, Roz?” She crossed her arms at her chest. “Or did you forget that minor detail?”

  “I didn’t forget, it’s just that—”

  “Money and fame have a surefire way of corrupting good people, and I won’t let
my daughter be one of those—”

  “Mom, he’s just—”

  “A convicted criminal, Roz. Why are you making excuses for him?”

  “I mean,” my voice cracked. “You’re not giving him a chance. He’s a good person. I know it.”

  “You don’t,” she said. “You don’t know it. You know what you see on TV, and what you read in your magazines. This idea that you have about Avery is nothing more than some romanticized fantasy you’ve dreamed up in your head, but this is real life, and you need to snap out of it. This is foolish, Roz. You believe every little lie he feeds you, and he’s a stranger, with a criminal past, and I don’t want—”

  “It doesn’t matter what you want,” I yelled. “When did you stop trusting my judgment?”

  “When did you stop trusting me?” She ran her fingers through her messy hair. “What’s it going to take? Infidelity, publicity stunts, drugs—”

  “You’re not being fair.”

  “One of these days that boy’s going to slide right off that pedestal you’ve put him on. And when that day comes, he won’t be around to console you or mend your broken heart. I was here, Roz. I saw how much his actions hurt you before he came to town, before he ever knew you existed. Do you really think it’ll be any easier now? When he goes back to LA and resumes that lifestyle, do you think—”

  “He won’t.”

  “He will. Roz, he’s from a big city, with more money than he knows what to do with, and access to a lifestyle you can’t begin to understand. That place is nothing like Sutton Woods. Avery’s not a Wes or a Jasper. He’s not a Stephen or a Daniel—”

  “Well, thank God for that,” I yelled, hoping Daniel wasn’t the new standard by which we were now measuring good guys. “You know, I brought him by to settle the deal on the car, and he was nice to you. What more do you want? How can you stand there acting like he’s Satan’s henchman?”

  “Because I see the way he looks at you. And it’s not the look of a boy who’s content with friendship.”

  “So what?” I asked. “So what if—”

  “You won’t see him again.”

  “You can’t do that. He’s my friend.”

  “You—don’t— know—him.”

  “But I want to, don’t you get that?” I said, tears rolling down my cheeks. The red-hot anger in Mom’s eyes fizzled in an instant.

  “You deserve someone better than him.”

  “But aren’t you the person who’s always taught me the value of forgiveness and second chances? Haven’t you always told me to see the good in everyone?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Then where’s that person?” I asked. “Where’s that version of my mother, because I’d really like to talk to her.”

  “She’s not here,” Mom said. “This is the version you get; this is what it’s come to. I can’t be anyone else. I’m too busy looking out for my daughter since she refuses to look out for herself.”

  “Well, maybe I don’t need you looking out for me anymore,” I said, whipping around. I shoved past her, through the hallway, and up the stairs, slamming my bedroom door behind me.

  ~

  I did it again.

  As soon as Mom, Dad, and Daniel were tucked into bed, I slipped out the door with the car keys in hand. If Avery wasn’t allowed to come to me, I would go to him.

  He wasn’t answering my messages. I’d text him three times over a five-hour period, and all I’d gotten was radio silence in return.

  I’d tried reasoning with myself that it was all for the best, that maybe I didn’t need Avery in my life.

  Mom hated him.

  Carter would always resent me for having what she wanted, and it wasn’t worth losing the people I loved to pursue someone who wasn’t sticking around for the long haul.

  I wanted to trust my intuition and believe in everything I’d felt with Avery, but what if Mom was onto something? What if he was just that good of an actor? What if he’d been deceiving me all along, and I was too naive to see what was right in front of my face? What if this was just another role for him, and I was on a certain path to becoming another victim of his lies?

  It was an interesting theory, but one with a gaping hole. Avery stood to gain nothing by leading me on, and I trusted in him, even though Mom had tried planting a lot of doubt.

  I pulled up to the Barrett Farmhouse at eleven o’clock that night. Someone was still awake, because the lights were on in the common areas, and I could see movement in the dining room. I walked up the steps and onto the porch, and just as I lifted my hand to knock, a gentle breeze pushed the door open a few inches.

  I couldn’t imagine they’d left it open on purpose, so I could only guess it hadn’t latched the last time it was closed.

  The voices just inside the door stopped me from announcing myself.

  “Five thousand dollars?” Wes asked, exasperated.

  “And she’s killing herself,” Avery said. “She’s terrified of what this could mean for her family if—”

  “Five thousand dollars?” Wes asked again. “Drugs? Daniel?”

  “I don’t know what to do,” Avery said, and I stepped to the corner of the door, peeking into where he and Wes sat at the dining room table. Each of them held a cup of coffee in hand, and neither of them looked rested. “I have to help her, right? I need to find this Sara Oliver girl and settle this debt, because Roz shouldn’t have to fight this thing alone.”

  “Wait.” Wes’s face darkened with a scowl. “Did you say Sara Oliver?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And Roz told you about this today?”

  “No. I’ve picked up bits and pieces over the last few days, but she finally gave me the full story last night. I was distracted by it all afternoon. I tried not to think about it, but watching her at that party with her friends, and then this evening . . . I kept looking at this beautiful girl and thinking, who would do this to her? She doesn’t deserve this.”

  “She’s a good kid,” Wes said. “I’ve known her since we were young, and her goodness is one thing you can’t dispute. She’d go to the ends of the Earth for the people she loves.”

  “I know. I can’t imagine there’s a selfish bone in her body,” Avery agreed, dropping his shoulders. “And I can’t do it. I can’t stand by and watch her be manipulated like this. I have to help her.”

  “Then what’s stopping you?”

  “She’ll never take the money. And I’ve been driving myself crazy thinking of ways to give it to her. Hell, I’ve even considered the suggestion that she call up the press with a hot tip on my whereabouts, because they’d pay for that story. But deception hasn’t crossed her mind, and even if I feed her the idea, she’d never go for it. She doesn’t have it in her.”

  He was right about that; I would never turn him in—not for every penny in the world.

  “Have you considered giving yourself a break?” Wes asked. “Aves, you keep meddling in everyone else’s affairs, and maybe it’s time to stand back and let the chips fall where they may.”

  “And let Roz suffer?”

  “I’m not saying that. But it’s time you realize that you can’t always be the superhero, man. How many times have you bailed Gwen out? How many times have you wrangled with her over drug use, missed rehearsals, and her drunken behavior at those after-hours parties?”

  “More times than I care to count.”

  “And nothing’s changed. For someone who demands so much accountability for himself, you don’t demand near enough from everyone else. Daniel will never learn from his mistakes, just like Gwen will never learn from hers.”

  “Yeah.”

  “They’re relying on the people around them to bail them out, and that gives them a free pass to do whatever the hell they want,” Wes said. “Neither of you are doing the people you love any favors by coddling them.”

  Avery dropped his head. “So what do I do?”

  “Honestly, if this were any other situation, I’d say ‘Back off. Look out for you
rself. Forget about Roz, and protect your best interest. Let her take care of herself.’”

  “But?”

  “It’s not any other situation.”

  “It’s not,” Avery agreed. “I can’t watch her life implode. I like this girl, Wes. I want to see her happy.”

  “I know. Which is why we have an important call to make. This is the one and only time I’ll agree that meddling is the right thing to do.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  I couldn’t knock after that. I hated myself for doubting Avery’s intentions, especially considering how openly he shared his feelings for me with his best friend. I couldn’t even be mad that he’d shared my secrets with Wes, because he was just as hurt as I was over this whole mess. He’d empathized with me, and he was as desperate to find an answer as I was.

  I had no idea what Wes meant by meddling, and there was no way to find out—no matter how far I pressed my ear to the screen door for more answers. After I’d heard that little bit of conversation, they’d both moved into the kitchen to refill their cups.

  I pulled the door closed, turned away from the porch, and went back to my car. I had to go home.

  There was no way I could confide in Avery at that point—not in the mood he was in. I’d only hurt him more by confessing to the seeds of doubt Mom had planted, or how conflicted I was over how to proceed with Carter.

  For now, there was nothing I could say that he’d want to hear, so it was best to not say anything at all.

  ~

  “You off to the soup kitchen soon?” Dad asked, passing through the living room the next morning, but I didn’t get up. I sank lower into the couch, watching the blank TV screen. “Roz?”

  “Yeah?” I turned, finally registering his question. “No.”

  “No?” he asked, stepping in. “Oh, let me guess . . . You’re still upset about the argument you had with your mom last night.”

  “More like the one I’m having with Carter.”

  “You’re fighting with Carter?”

  “No,” I said again. “I wish we were fighting.”

 

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