by Violet Paige
7
Sierra
His hands tangled in my hair and the heat spread from my neck to my breasts. They perked and hardened as his hand slid under my shirt.
It all happened so fast. I didn’t have time to think or feel. Only react to the way Blake knew how to handle my body.
I grabbed at him. Needing contact. Needing warmth. It was the hottest part of summer, but I had been locked up in this lonely house without warmth. Without this.
Blake wasn’t a boy anymore. He was a man. An overbearing, confident, sexy-as-hell man. His shoulders bulged above me and I felt the hardness of his erection press into my hip.
I moaned slightly at the impact of it all.
And that’s when we broke apart. Like two magnets completely repelled by each other. Blake stumbled backward and I reached for the countertop to keep from buckling to the ground.
That kiss never should have happened.
Before I could say anything, he walked to the door, slamming it behind him. I touched my lips with my fingertips, feeling the burn his mouth had branded on my skin.
Shit.
I locked the door as he peeled out of the driveway. The wheels sprayed gravel in every direction. I leaned into the door as if that would somehow steel me to do the right thing for once.
Since I had been here nothing had gone right. Tonight was just another example.
Everywhere I turned were reminders of how much I had screwed up. I slid to the floor and let the tears follow.
I’d always wanted to tell Blake the truth. I’d always wanted him to know, but too much time had passed. And then he’d been drafted by the AFA. Now, he was famous—he was a millionaire. He didn’t need an ex-girlfriend showing up to confess her past sins.
I sobbed into my hands until I knew my face was red and blotchy.
What could he do about it now? What would he say? How would I ever explain what had happened?
I crawled toward the coffee table and grabbed a handful of tissues. I blew my nose, knowing it was pointless. The tears were going to come back tenfold.
Just seeing Blake again brought it all back. Every memory. Every moment we’d spent together. Every shred of glass that pierced my heart.
I’d spent my life putting it all behind me and now I couldn’t run anymore. It was all around me. The lies. The deceit. What I had given up. How weak I had been. I shook on the floor, letting the sobs wrack my shoulders harder with each wave of emotion.
Eight Years Ago
Emily tapped on the door. “Sierra, you’ve been in there forever. When are you coming out?”
I stared at the stick on the bathroom counter. I was huddled on the floor in shock. Maybe it was a dream or rather a nightmare.
“Are you ok?” my best friend called through the door.
I rose slowly, needing the reassurance of the tile under my feet. I unlocked the door and let Emily in.
“What is it? What does it say?”
I pointed to the countertop.
She covered her mouth. “Oh my God. You’re pregnant. You’re actually pregnant.”
I nodded in disbelief. It hadn’t registered yet. I held up the two lines and looked at them again. This couldn’t be happening.
I felt her arm circle me. “Are you ok?”
“I think so.” I turned toward her. “What’s Blake going to say?”
She squeezed me tightly. “He’s going to say that whatever you need is what he’s going to do. He loves you. He totally loves you.”
I bit my lip. “But a baby?” I could feel my stomach roll, but I didn’t know if it was from the nerves or from the morning sickness that had started plaguing me.
“He can handle anything.”
I nodded in agreement. It was true. We might be young, but I knew there wasn’t another guy in the world like him.
There were a lot of old families on Gull island. Families who had passed down family businesses from generation to generation. Sometimes it was fishing. Sometimes it was a local store, but for the Wyatts it was boat building. Blake had something in his family I didn’t have—roots.
Even though Aunt Lindy had told me the history of the house and about all of the years her father and uncles had served in the Coast Guard, I still didn’t know where I fit into that.
I picked up the stick and stuffed it in the paper bag from the store. Emily had driven with me off the island to buy the test. The last thing I needed was some nosey neighbor finding out I thought I was pregnant. Aunt Lindy and Blake’s dad would have heard about it before I even had the test results if we hadn’t moved the shopping trip off the island.
Emily had been brave enough to hand the cashier a wad of bills when I thought I’d pass out from the embarrassment.
“Where are you going?” she asked. “Are you ok? You’re looking a little pale.”
“I’m going to tell him.”
“Now?” Her eyes widened and her brunette curls bounced.
“Yes. Now. If I don’t, I might talk myself out of it. And this isn’t one of those times I can talk myself out of it, right?”
She nodded with a soft smile. “Of course you have to tell him. Go. Talk to him.”
Emily had moved at the beginning of our senior year from Charlotte. From the start, we’d had that instant girl thing where we could finish each other’s sentences. Sometimes I swore we could even read each other’s thoughts. I don’t know how I’d manage to exist before she showed up.
“Ok. Good luck. Call me after. Ok?”
I hugged my best friend. “I will.” I needed that hug. It seemed hard to believe I had only known her a year.
I rushed down the spiral staircase. Aunt Lindy was in the kitchen working on dinner.
“When are you coming back, honey?” she asked.
“For dinner.” I smiled. I wasn’t sure how I was going to break the news to her either. First the daddy. Then I could worry about everyone else.
“I’m working on roasting a chicken.”
I grabbed at my stomach. For the past week, any mention of poultry had made my stomach queasy. I smiled meekly.
“I’ll make sure to be home.”
Once I put my key in the ignition, this was it. Our lives would never be the same. I hopped behind the wheel of my Jeep. I pressed my palm to my stomach. It was still flat. You would never know looking at me I was six-weeks pregnant. There was no more time to hesitate. I backed out of the driveway and raced to Blake’s house.
I pulled up in front of the boat storage building where Blake’s dad and uncle worked. The family business was boat building, but not for Blake. He had a football scholarship. A full ride. He only had a month left before practice and school started.
A month wasn’t long to figure this all out. But we were going to college together. We had planned out everything. Everything except a baby.
I stepped from the Jeep just as Mr. Wyatt appeared.
“Looking for Blake?”
I shoved the paper bag behind my back. “He said he was going to help you with one of the boats today.”
Mr. Wyatt and I had never gotten along. I didn’t know if it was because the only family I had on this island was my aunt, or he just wasn’t going to like anyone his son dated.
I knew he thought I interfered with Blake’s dedication to the game. I liked to think we proved him wrong. Blake was going to be Saints College’s starting quarterback, and I was headed to journalism school. We may have given each other every free second we had, but we also worked hard and had something to prove for it. My Wyatt owed me that much. The man needed to cut me some slack.
“I’ll tell him you stopped by.”
“But is he here?” I tried to peer around the older man.
I wondered if Blake would look like his father when he was older. There was a striking resemblance. The same piercing gray-blue eyes, a strong jaw, and wide shoulders. The only difference was Mr. Wyatt’s son towered over him by a good four or five inches.
“He ran to the store for me.�
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“Ok.” I felt the pit in my stomach. I wanted to tell Blake. I needed to tell him. “I can wait.”
“I don’t think so. We have a lot of work to get finished.”
He was always trying to get rid of me. It was one of the things I was looking forward to in college. The Wyatt parents couldn’t hover over us anymore. College seemed like a dream—complete freedom.
“What if I just sit in my Jeep?” I offered.
“Fine. But he can’t go off with you. He’s got a long list of stuff to get done before he heads out for school.”
“I understand, Mr. Wyatt.”
But as I reached in my pocket to retrieve my keys I lost my grip on the bag and it dropped to the grass.
“No!” I screeched as I hurried to reach for it, but I was too late.
Blake’s dad scooped down to pick it up as the pregnancy test rolled into the tall blades of grass. He clasped it between his gnarled knuckles as I stared in horror.
“What the hell is this?”
I couldn’t find any words to answer him.
“Are you pregnant, Sierra?”
I wanted to vomit. Again, not sure if it was from the baby or the terrible situation.
“Please don’t tell Blake. Please, I just need to talk to him.”
His eyes flared. “You’re pregnant?”
“I thought we had been careful,” I eked out a stupid defense. Now wasn’t the time to talk about how many time we had skipped the condoms in the heat of the moment. I never even thought it was possible for this to happen. We had been mostly responsible, but not enough.
He shook his head. “Unbelievable. Trapping my son with a baby.”
“What? No. It’s not a trap.” I reached for the test, but he held it out of distance from my fingertips.
He closed his eyes for a brief second. “Here’s what is going to happen, young lady. You’re going to go pack your things. Tell your aunt you were enrolled in an early program. You start driving.”
I shook my head. He was insane. “What are you talking about? No. I’m not doing that.”
He grabbed me by the arm, shoving me into the front of my vehicle. “You are.”
“I’m going to Saints College with Blake.”
“You’re going to any school but that one. I’ll pay for the transfer. I’ll pay for whatever I have to.”
The tears welled in my eyes before I could form words. “No. He has a right to know about his baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
He looked me in the eye. “What he has a right to is a future. A life of opportunity. You think I’m going to let my only son. The only person in this family with a real shot of leaving this village, squander it away because he knocked up some girl? I’m not.”
“I’m not some girl,” I fired back.
“He’ll forget about you in two weeks. That’s all he needs. Two weeks to get unbrainwashed. Football and college and you’ll be a memory, Sierra.”
“Why would you do this to your son? To your grandchild?” It made me sick making that connection, but it was true. I was carrying Roger Wyatt’s grandchild. His own flesh and blood.
“Because I love him more than anything. Anything. And he’s not yours. You hear me? Get your ass off this island.”
“Or what?” There was nothing he could say that would make me do this. I’d never leave Blake. I couldn’t pack up and pretend school started early. I had nowhere to go. No money. And now I was pregnant. Everything that was happening terrified me.
“I’ll tell him it isn’t his.” He snarled at me. “I’ll make him hate you. I’ll make him despise you. I’ll tell him that everyone has been talking about how you slept with Johnson Davis.”
“I did not. He knows I would never cheat on him.”
He shrugged. “Maybe you did. Maybe Blake needs to hear what a lying slut you really are.”
The tears mixed with my mascara and the burn was almost unbearable.
“Why? Why are you doing this to me?”
“Take the deal. Take my money. Get off the island by tomorrow. I’ll keep him so busy tonight he’ll be too tired to call you. I’ve got sanding that needs to be done.”
“We could have the baby together.” I tried to convince him. “Raise your grandchild like a family.”
I looked around desperately for Blake’s mother. She was my salvation. The one chance I had of staying. She would never send away her first grandchild—never.
He laughed. “Family? You don’t even know who your parents are. You’ve been raised by some woman you think is your aunt.”
The anger rammed through my lungs.
“Oh my God.”
“Yep. So pack up. And don’t communicate with my son. It’s the only chance you have of saving any reputation you have.”
“Martha will want to know,” I pleaded.
I saw the man I had begun to despise choke back a sob. It was instinct, but I rushed to his side. Carefully, I touched his shoulder.
His angry eyes peered at me.
“We haven’t told Blake yet.”
“Told him what?” I asked.
“She’s seen two specialists. Martha has stage four…”
“Oh my God.” I clasped his arm. “I’m so sorry. I-I can’t believe it.”
He straightened his shoulder and stepped out from my touch. “So your timing couldn’t be worse. Martha needs Blake now. She needs all of us.”
“But the baby could give her something to fight for. Don’t you think that’s powerful medicine?” I knew I was begging and pleading, but I was fighting for my life and for the place this baby deserved in its own family. Every time Mr. Wyatt opened his mouth I only fell deeper into the abyss of the hopelessness he created.
“You’re nothing but a scandal. Your shame is no one’s medicine,” he snarled. “I have a dying wife. Can’t you hear me? And I have a son who has a future. You don’t belong here. I have a family to take care of.” His legs stiffened. “Now go before Blake gets back.”
He kept talking, but I couldn’t listen to anymore. My body shut down. My emotions closed in on me.
He hated me. Actually despised me. And then he threw in the part about my parents and Aunt Lindy. If he was trying to derail me, it worked.
I drove home in a fog.
I slowly climbed the stairs and packed all the clothing I had in my bag.
That night I stuffed them into the back of my Jeep and left the island for the last time.
8
Blake
I could still taste her on my lips. Hear her in my ears.
I turned onto the dirt drive that I had called home. The lights were off in the boat barn.
I didn’t know if they’d ever be back on. I kept my head down as I passed the double doors that led inside where my dad used to work. I never went in there anymore. Cole had tried. My uncle had tried, but I kept the doors locked.
They kept reminding me how valuable the tools and the wood were inside, but I didn’t give a shit about the price of juniper boards—nor did I care about the two boats I kept hostage in there. I kept it sealed like a tomb.
I stumbled into the house, throwing my keys onto the table. I should pack up and head back to Orlando. There was enough to do for the team. I had rookies to study. Routes to plan with my receivers. I could meet with Coach. Work on my knee. I didn’t need this shit.
I wasn’t in the mood for a trip down memory lane. And yet, I was fucking driving down it a hundred miles an hour on auto pilot. Hell.
And Sierra was a brick wall I was going to crash into head first, sending me through the windshield with no seatbelt. I slammed my fist on the table.
There was only one way to get her out of my system.
One way to put the past behind me.
One way to drown out the memories.
One way to wipe her from my thoughts.
I pulled the top off a bottle of bourbon and took a swig. It burned my throat, but I didn’t care. I swallowed again. Before I knew it, the bottle was
empty.
The glass hit the floor with a thud as I fell forward onto the couch. I didn’t know what time it was when I finally passed out, but the last thing I saw was Sierra’s lips. There wasn’t enough alcohol on this island to drink her out of my mind.
I reached for my head when the sun hit me in the face. Fuck. I walked to the kitchen and poured a glass of orange juice and ransacked the cabinets looking for aspirin.
I popped the tablets in my mouth and chugged them down. The old phone my parents had nailed to the wall was still attached. I couldn’t forget the number to Sierra’s aunt’s house if I wanted to. I tapped the digits onto the keypad and waited for her to answer.
“Hello?” She sounded sleepy. It was barely sunrise.
“Hey. It’s Blake.”
“Oh.”
“Look, about last night.” I ran my hand over my neck. The hangover stemmed from somewhere in the lower part of my skull.
“It shouldn’t have gone like that. I think we need a do-over.”
“A what?” she squeaked.
I couldn’t believe I was saying this shit. “A do-over. I’ll pick you up at seven thirty.”
“For what?” she questioned.
That was the question. Was I trying to prove to myself I was over her? Or that I could take her? Use her like she had used me? Prove that I could fuck her over and no longer needed her? Could I drive off this island like she had and not give a fuck about her?
“Come on, Sierra. It’s a date. I’ll pick you up and we’ll just pretend last night never happened.”
“I don’t understand. Last night wasn’t the best reunion. We haven’t talked in years and now it’s a date?”
“We’re older now, aren’t we?” Did she still know me so well that she could read through my bullshit reasons?
She paused. “I guess so.”
“Then just go with it, darlin’. See you tonight.”
I hung up before she could poke more holes in my sudden interest to see her.
9
Sierra