I’ve gone over and over it in my mind, and most days I struggle to connect my actions with the person I know I am. It’s like a stranger inhabited my body, and I allowed her full control. Unbearable pain blindsided me, separated me from my soul and my heart, and I trusted in someone who manipulated me. I should have known better. I did know better.
I’ve rewritten this letter a hundred times, and it’s tempting to leave out the most important fact, but there’s no point in writing a letter without honesty. I knew it would hurt you, and I wanted you to hurt as much as I was.
There. I’ve said it. Now you know how truly awful I am.
I don’t feel that way anymore, and I’m ashamed I acted so rashly, that I caused so much pain, but I can’t undo what I’ve done. I can only try and repair the damage and hope that, in time, you can somehow find it in your heart to forgive me. Because the thought of you living the rest of your life hating me is worse than the prospect of living mine without you by my side.
Mom claims I have an old soul. Maybe that’s why I was always so sure about us. Why our age never made a difference. Why my love felt like it was born of decades not years. Perhaps that illusion of love shielded me from facing reality.
You and I aren’t meant to be.
I will never regret the time we spent together. Precious childhood memories will remain untarnished in my mind, but that future we both dreamed about as kids was a fallacy created by fertile imaginations.
It’s got to be. Because otherwise we would not have ended up here.
A sneaky tear slips out of my eye, rolling in slow motion down my face. It lands on the page, blurring the ink a little. I swipe under my eyes with my thumbs, glancing at the clock. I resume writing before I run out of time or my nerve fails.
I love you. I always have and I always will, but I’m letting you go. It’s best for everyone involved.
Dream big, Kal, because you are destined for great things.
Don’t look for me.
If you’ve ever cared for me, you will do that one thing. You will stay away. Leave the past in the past, and pretend like I never even existed.
But remember this much—you are the only boy who ever owned a piece of my heart, and that piece will always belong to you.
I will never forget you.
Be happy.
Lana.
The tears return as I fold the page, fit it into an envelope, and write his name on the front. More quiet tears fall as I shuck off my pajamas and pull on the austere jet-black skirt suit. I button the crisp, white shirt all the way up to my neck as I toe on my ballet flats. Tucking the letter safely into the inside pocket of my jacket, I vow to find some way of getting this to Faye before the end of the day. She’s the only one I trust to deliver it to him.
I smooth my long, dark hair into a tight ponytail, taking one last look in the mirror before I leave.
I look like I’m attending my own funeral.
Which is pretty ironic, because that’s exactly what it feels like as I vacate my hotel room for the final time.
Chapter One
October of the following year
Lana
My head is buzzing, and it feels good. Feels great.
I’m doing it.
Thrusting my bottle of beer at Olivia, I stride toward the bar on slightly shaky legs, determined to properly let loose. This is the third time we’ve attended the Kappa Sigma Friday night party, and every other time I’ve wanted to do this, I’ve chickened out.
Not tonight.
Tonight, I have my big girl pants on.
The few beers I downed earlier at the Gator Growl—UF’s flagship event which marked the culmination of all the homecoming week activities—have helped loosen my inhibitions, too.
“Lana?” Olivia tugs on my elbow. “What’re you doing?”
“I’m dancing,” I confirm, kicking off my shoes. My roommate gawks at me, and I flash her a crooked grin.
Friday night is the only free time I have during the week, my one and only opportunity to cut loose, and I’m determined to make the most of it tonight.
I skip toward the bar area at the rear of the basement. This whole space was purpose-built a few years ago from a generous ex-frat alumni donation, if rumors are to be believed. The other side of the basement houses a few pool tables, a foosball table, a bunch of bean bags and low couches, and a top-notch stereo system. I stuck my head in that room one time and almost passed out from the pungent smoke infusing the air. This section is where most of the drinking and dancing takes place, and I’m way more comfortable out here.
I’ve never been a big drinker, but I allow myself a couple drinks on Fridays, as a reward of sorts for working my ass off all week.
A large counter runs the length of the wall at the back. Rows of shelves are built in behind it with designated space for kegs and cubbyholes stacked full of cups and other drinking paraphernalia. It’s not a functional bar, but it’s the next best thing.
These parties are legendary, and everyone wants an in. Riley—the junior Liv recently started dating—lives here, so we’re an automatic shoo-in now.
The dancing on the bar tradition was started a couple years back by a few seniors—girls from a nearby sorority—who gatecrashed one night. They started a trend, and now it’s almost as legendary as the parties themselves.
The old me wouldn’t have dreamed of doing anything so wild.
The new me can’t wait to get my ass up on that counter. Tonight, I’m joining the honorary roll call, consequences be damned.
I haul myself up on the bar, rather inelegantly, staggering a little until I find my balance. A loud cheer erupts from the packed crowd when I remove my shirt and toss it in Olivia’s direction. My white tank top is tight with thin straps and a sheer lace overlay which touches the edge of my short jean skirt. My usual pale skin is tan from a summer spent by the pool on the grounds of my grandparents’ lavish property.
My hips move of their own accord, and I glance sideways, sharing a blinding smile with the petite redhead dancing alongside me. We grin at each other as the slick beats pump out. Flinging my hair over my shoulders, I do a little shimmy up and down, earning a few catcalls in the process.
I notice a couple of guys watching my every move, and my skin heats up. My moves become a little more provocative, a little sexier. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Liv smiling in my direction. She gives me a quick thumbs-up, and I laugh, continuing to pump and grind to the sultry rhythm.
Surprisingly, I’m enjoying this.
The old Lana would never have been so uninhibited.
But that girl no longer exists.
Along with her scandalous past.
I’m not Lana Taylor anymore. Courtesy of my wealthy grandparents, and a recent circuit court petition, I’m now Lana Williams. A new name deserves a new outlook on life, and I’m determined to forge a new path. To forget the boy who forever captured my heart on a beach in Nantucket.
A surge of guilt washes over me. It’s the same any time I think of Kal. Which is mostly every day, so, obviously, I haven’t been entirely successful with banishing my past, but it’s a work in progress. I’m determined to move beyond it.
Otherwise, what was the point of it all?
The redhead nudges my hip, and I realize I’ve stopped dancing. Forcing all thoughts of Kalvin Kennedy from my mind, I immerse myself in the song, dancing my punctured little heart out.
Sweat trickles down my spine, and my mouth is dry as sandpaper. I’m thinking of calling it quits when I’m distracted by the sound of roaring and clapping coming from the far right-hand side of the room. A group of football players are huddled in a circle, raising their beers in a united salute. As the crowd disperses, I notice the boy and girl descending the stairs into the basement, and my heart stutters in my chest.
She is model beautiful
with thick, glossy blonde locks, killer curves, and long limbs. More than a few heads turn in her direction, but I’ve stopped noticing her because the boy beside her has just sent my world into a tailspin.
“No!” I gasp, and my knees turn to Jell-O. With my stomach lurching, and my legs almost buckling, I sway precariously on the counter as everything crashes down around me.
I’m going to be sick.
His head is angled toward the bar, and my mind switches off. I dive off the counter, uncaring how or where I land. I just know that I need to get out of his line of sight before he spots me.
My heart is jackhammering against my ribcage as I flail about in the air. A pair of strong, muscular arms catch me before I face-plant the ground. “Whoa there, pretty lady!” a deep, rich voice says. “You fall or something?” my savior asks, repositioning me so I’m cradled against his very broad, very warm chest.
I peer into lush chocolate-colored eyes, blinking profusely. “Sorry!” I attempt to wriggle out of his hold, but he tightens his grip on my waist.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“She’s fine,” Liv says, materializing alongside us. “You can release her now, Chase.”
Chase frowns as he carefully places my bare feet on the ground. Olivia hands me my shoes, eyeing the guy suspiciously. With her abnormally tall frame, flawless dark skin, striking eyes, and thick jet-black hair, Olivia can command a room like no other girl I know. She’s like this fierce Amazonian warrior, reminding me of those stunning female vampires from Twilight.
I’m dwarfed when I stand beside her, scrawny and small, the contrast between us never more transparent. Perhaps that’s why she’s taken such a protective stance. Why she looks out for me even when I don’t ask her to.
Chase regards her warily, scrubbing a hand over his stubbly jaw. “Do I know you?”
“Nope, but your rep precedes you.”
He grins, showcasing a set of cut dimples. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”
“Uh-huh.” My roomie pins him with a wary look.
Chase chuckles, raising his palms in the air. “Hey, I was just doing my good deed for the night. No ulterior motives.” He turns to me, his eyes roaming up and down my body as I toe on my shoes. “None, whatsoever.” He winks, and heat floods my cheeks. I’m unaccustomed to such shameless flirting, and it throws me for a loop. “Not like I was watching your pretty friend rock that counter like she belongs on stage or anything.” His grin widens, and my cheeks burn brighter.
Straightening up, I clear my throat. “Thank you. For catching me.”
He takes my hand in his meatier one, drawing it to his mouth. “The pleasure was all mine. Anytime …” He quirks a brow.
“I’m Lana.”
He plants a soft kiss on the back of my hand. “Nice to meet you, Lana.” Leaning in, he presses his ear to my mouth. “I definitely hope we meet again.” A slew of shivers ripple over my skin as his warm breath tickles my neck.
He sends me one final cheeky wink before disappearing into the heaving crowd.
“That one is trouble,” Liv warns.
Mention of trouble brings me back into the moment. Grabbing my shirt and purse, I tug on her arm. “Come on. We need to leave. Now.”
“Where’s the fire?”
I risk a quick peek over her shoulder, emitting a high-pitched shriek. He’s heading our way, and if we don’t get our butts out of here right this second, everything I’ve worked for will be shot to hell. Olivia turns to look at the object of my distraction. “No! Don’t look at him. He’ll see you!” I yank on her arm again.
“What the hell, Lana?” She slants a puzzled look my way.
“I’ll explain everything when we get back to the dorm, but we have to go. Please, Liv. I’m begging you. We have to go now.” Hysteria is bubbling to the surface as the words leave my mouth, and butterflies are running amok in my chest.
“’Kay. Quick.”
We start pushing our way through the crowd. My tank top is glued to my back, and tiny beads of sweat have formed on my brow.
He can’t see me, he just can’t.
Olivia guides me to a side exit at the back of the bar. We shove through the door, barreling out into a narrow alleyway at the back of the building. I run toward the steep stone steps, ignoring the sounds of heavy make-out sessions happening all around us.
“Lana!” a familiar voice calls out, and I whimper. Dammit all to hell.
“Keep running,” Olivia commands, racing hot on my heels. Fueled by adrenaline, I bound up the stairs, pushing my limbs harder than ever before, such is my desire to outrun him.
“Lana! Wait!” The voice is distant, but it won’t take him long to catch up.
We race around the corner of the building. “Follow me.” Olivia veers off to the right. I give chase as she maneuvers a curved path through the shrubbery in between various frats, weaving in and out of houses like it’s her own personal obstacle course. Under the dark blanket of nightfall, I stumble several times as I struggle to keep up. My breath hisses out in panicked spurts, but I resist the urge to look over my shoulder as I race after Liv.
We emerge on one of the main roads, a few yards from a bus stop. “Hold the bus!” Liv screeches as the last passenger ascends the vehicle parked at the curb. We tear down the sidewalk and hop onto the bus in the nick of time. Panting, I scan my card and scurry behind Olivia, dropping into a seat alongside her.
“That was cutting it close,” I pant, desperately trying to get my breathing and my heart rate under control.
“I’ll say.” She shoots me a curious look, before glancing out the rear window of the bus. It takes considerable willpower to keep my focus straight ahead.
A couple of minutes pass in silence, as we both bring our breathing back in line.
I sigh. My head is a mess, and my slightly inebriated state isn’t helping either. Anxiety is holding me hostage, and I can’t think straight.
What the hell is he doing here?
Olivia bumps my shoulder. “You said there was a guy.”
“Yes.”
I told her there was a guy, but I deliberately avoided divulging the details. I had good reasons not to. Plenty of them. Liv and I gelled the instant we met, and I didn’t want her thinking any less of me. Now, there’s no avoiding it. I owe her an explanation, and I’m not going to lie.
I’ve already told a lifetime of lies.
Liv isn’t prone to rash judgments, and I know she’ll give me the floor to explain. I hope it’s enough. Wetting my dry lips, I study her calm expression.
“When were you going to tell me it was Kalvin Kennedy?” she asks.
Chapter Two
Kalvin
“Goddammit!!” I yell in frustration, coming to a halt as I watch the bus pull away from the curb. Dropping onto a nearby bench, I rest my head in my hands. Adrenaline is coursing through my body, and my heart is thundering in my chest.
She. Is. Here!
When I first caught a glimpse of the crazy girl nose-diving off the bar, my heart stuttered at the mere possibility that it might be her. Well, that and the fear that she’d go splat on the floor. Then I lost her in the crowd, especially when Shelby stopped to talk to some jerk from her anthropology class. It was only when Lana’s considerably taller friend started rushing her out the side exit that I got another look. I only saw her from behind, but I knew. I knew it was her, even if her hair is longer than I’ve ever seen it and the clothes she was wearing were nothing like my Lana used to wear.
I only needed that teeny, tiny glimpse to know it was her.
You never forget the girl who claimed your heart. Even if she did it without me realizing.
It took our lengthy separation for me to see her in the right light.
To know I loved her more than I loved anyone or anything in the entire universe.
I didn’t know love until it tore up my heart. Until I was all cut up inside. Until the loss consumed me, and I could barely breathe without her. It’s only then I realized I’d do anything to get her back.
Kill. Maim. Injure. Beg. Borrow. Steal.
There isn’t anything I’m unprepared to do to win Lana back.
Fuck me. I’m turning into my pansy-ass brother. Lying flat on my back on the bench, with my knees bent, I laugh my ass off as relief cascades over me like a waterfall.
She enrolled, after all. Thank fuck.
My laughter dies off, replaced by a heady surge of longing.
I can hardly believe it.
I’ve been on campus for two months now, and I spent the first few weeks scouring the place for any sign of Lana. I had no idea how vast the University of Florida was or how trying to find one girl on a two-thousand-acre campus was virtually impossible. Although, it doesn’t seem as big now that I know my way around a bit better. After weeks of roaming the campus like an aimless idiot, I finally succumbed and called my brother. Keven has mad IT skills, and it didn’t take him long to hack into the college servers and search the considerable student database only to draw a blank.
My heart had sunk when he confirmed there was no Lana Taylor registered.
I’d been so sure she’d come here. I knew she had enough credits built up to skip senior year, like me, and she’d had her heart set on UF. I remembered the times we’d talked about it, and it’d played no insignificant part in my decision to come here instead of attending Harvard with my brothers and my cousin.
Although this is one of the top universities in the country, and their architecture program is dope, I came here for her.
A goofy smile appears on my lips.
For the first time in over a year, I feel alive. The urge to pull a Leo and shout “I’m the king of the world” is riding me hard. Damn my wacky Irish cousin Faye and her stupid Titanic fixation. That girl has messed with my brain in a big way.
The Irish Getaway: A Kennedy Boys Optional Short Novel (The Kennedy Boys) Page 17