by Sydney Logan
“I hate to see you cry,” he murmured.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, Sarah, I’m sorry. I’ve sat on your porch this whole time, trying to figure out what I said to upset you.”
“It wasn’t you. We were just talking about Thanksgiving, and it made me miss my family. It really hit me that I would be alone in this big house for the holidays.”
“But you don’t have to be alone. I want to spend the holidays with you, but if it’s too much—”
I was so confused.
“But you’re going to New York . . .”
“I’m not going to New York. I just said it would be nice to see my parents at Thanksgiving,” Lucas replied, gently wiping a stray tear away from my cheek. “I invited them here.”
“Here?” I asked, sniffling quietly. “Your parents are coming here?”
Lucas smiled down at me. “Mom doesn’t believe me when I tell her my apartment isn’t a complete dump. Plus, they want to see where I’m teaching, and they’re very, very eager to meet you.”
“They know about me?”
“You’re pretty much all I talk about when I call home.”
Suddenly, I was terrified.
“Your mother’s going to think I’m a basket case.”
Lucas gently laced his fingers through mine. “She will love you. There’s just one problem. My apartment is extremely small. I don’t even have a kitchen table. If only I knew someone who had a big house and liked to cook . . .”
“If only,” I said, giggling softly. “Lucas, I would love that. Where would they stay?”
“I don’t know. Do you trust the motel in town?”
I wrinkled my nose.
“Not at all. I could fix up a room for them . . . that is, if you think they’d be comfortable here.”
“That wouldn’t be awkward for you?”
I shrugged. “I don’t think so. I’d love to spend time with your parents.”
Mesmerized, I watched as his fingers slid along mine.
“I didn’t mean to make you sad, sweetheart.”
The sentiment flowed through me and melted my heart.
“You didn’t. It was just the thought of being without my family. Sometimes, I forget I’m really alone in this world.”
Lucas gently stroked my cheek with the back of his hand. “But you’re not. You’re not alone, Sarah. I couldn’t walk off your porch because I knew you were upset. I didn’t even consider going to New York for Thanksgiving because I knew I’d miss you too much.”
Tears swam in my eyes, and I bowed my head.
Gently, he lifted my face toward his, forcing me to look at him. His voice was soft and sincere.
“You’re not alone in this world. I’m right here, and I’m trying so hard to love you. All I want to do is love you.”
He kissed me and it was soft and sweet. My fingers tangled in his hair as I pulled him closer, and he groaned when my lips parted. Suddenly, I was lying beneath him, and I whimpered when his mouth blazed a trail along my neck.
“Let me love you,” he whispered roughly, and I whimpered as his entire body pressed into mine. I arched against him, and he swallowed my moans with a burning kiss. Our hands roamed, and it was when I felt his hand slide along the button of my jeans that I had my moment of clarity. The two months of pent-up emotion were causing us to be reckless, and I knew one of us had to come to our senses.
Lucas must have realized it at the same time, because the urgency of our kisses was suddenly gone. With a quiet groan, he buried his face against my neck as we both struggled to catch our breath.
Slowly, he lifted his face toward mine and peppered soft kisses along my cheek.
“Let me love you, Sarah.”
This time, it wasn’t an urgent plea fueled by lust. It was tender and sincere and the sweetest words I’d ever heard.
“I don’t know if I can,” I whispered honestly. “I don’t know how.”
It was the truth. Ryan had tried, but I’d been too wounded and weak to let him love all of me. I hadn’t given him the chance to love every insecurity and flaw.
Lucas, however, had seen them all.
And by some miracle, he still wanted me.
“I’ll show you how,” Lucas promised with a whisper.
We smiled, and I framed his face with the palm of my hands before his lips found mine once more.
“You know, it’s still weeks until Halloween.”
It was too early on Saturday morning, and Aubrey was dragging me through the aisles of Wal-Mart. The forty-five minute drive to Winslow had only taken thirty, thanks to my friend’s total disregard for the speed limit.
“You’ve obviously never shopped for a Halloween costume for a toddler,” Aubrey said while fervently hunting through the racks. Screaming kids were running wildly up and down the aisle as frazzled mothers tried to control them with the promise of a Happy Meal. “The good costumes are probably already gone! I’ve waited too long, but Tommy always had practice or a game or . . .”
I let her ramble while I continued to dodge children wearing angel halos and zombie masks. In the distance, I saw a small display of fall decorations, and I navigated my way through the kids to get a closer look. Beautiful red and gold place mats and tablecloths hung neatly in a row, and I ran my fingers along the fabric.
“Oh, those are pretty!”
I counted out enough place mats for each chair. “I’m buying them for Thanksgiving.”
“Are you cooking? I never do, but I was going to invite you to my mom’s for dinner.”
“I appreciate the invitation, but I’m cooking for Lucas and his parents.” I smiled. Aubrey arched a curious eyebrow, and I sighed. “Yes, Lucas’s parents are coming for Thanksgiving.”
“You’re meeting his parents . . .”
“Yep.”
“And you were going to tell me this when?”
“I’m telling you now.”
I could feel Aubrey’s eyes on me as I tossed the tablecloth and mats into the shopping cart.
“So, did you find what you wanted?”
Aubrey glanced down at the costumes in her hands. One was Buzz Lightyear and the other was a giant pumpkin. I had a feeling I knew which Daniel would prefer. “No. I can’t decide because I’ve been momentarily stunned by the fact you’re being introduced to the parents, and you seem completely nonchalant about it.”
I was actually a complete nervous wreck, but I figured it was still October. Why panic now?
“Sarah Bray, don’t ignore me—”
Her ringing cell phone interrupted her rant, and I smiled sweetly and sniffed a nearby scented candle while she answered it.
“Is he all right? . . . No, I understand. We’ll be right there.” She quickly snapped her phone shut and tossed both costumes into the cart.
“Aubrey, what’s wrong?”
Tugging me by the arm, she pulled away from the costumes and toward the registers. Her eyes were wide and brimming with tears. “We have to get back to town.”
My heartbeat turned frantic. “Is it the baby?”
“No, it’s Matt.”
“Aubrey!” I practically shouted, grabbing onto her arm. “What’s wrong with Matt?”
A tear trickled down her cheek.
“Someone’s beat the hell out of him.”
Chapter 13
The clinic wasn’t open every day—and it certainly wasn’t open on Saturdays—but when the high school quarterback suffers an injury, it’s amazing how quickly a doctor and his staff can be convinced to open their doors.
“I just don’t understand,” Aubrey said quietly while we waited for word from the doctor. Lucas was in the seat next to me while a few teammates kept vigil outside. “Why would Patrick do such a thing? Again?”
The details were sketchy, but from what we’d gathered, the team had gone to a party down near the river after last night’s win over Bradley High. No one was sure what started the brawl between Matt and Patrick, but it ended with Matt bein
g beaten to a bloody pulp. Some of his teammates had helped him home where his mom had done what she could to clean him up. Both the sheriff and the doctor were called at dawn.
Lucas sighed. “No one can blame it on a girl this time.”
Gazing out the window, I noticed the small group of football players who’d congregated in the parking lot. Howie was there, and when he saw me looking, he offered me a sad smile and an unenthusiastic wave.
“There is some serious tension between those two boys, but I don’t think it has anything to do with a girl,” I replied.
Suddenly, Tommy appeared in the waiting room with Matt’s parents by his side. Debbie was crying into her tissue with her husband whispering comforting words in her ear.
“Broken arm,” Tommy announced grimly. “Doc says he’s out for the season.”
Debbie just cried harder, and I closed my eyes with a groan.
So much for those college scouts.
“That boy is going to pay for this!” Matt’s dad bellowed loudly.
“He’s been arrested,” Aubrey offered softly.
Mr. Stuart snorted. “Arrested? He’s Mike Wilson’s kid. The boy has probably already made bail and sleeping soundly in his bed.”
Mike Wilson was the only attorney in town.
Tommy glanced in my direction. “Sarah, he’s asking for you.”
“Matt?”
He nodded. “Just to warn you—he looks pretty beat up. Don’t let it upset you.”
Lucas placed his hand against my elbow. “Do you want me to come?”
“No, it’s okay. I can handle it.”
I think.
“Right this way,” Dr. Jones said, motioning toward the door leading to the tiny examining rooms.
Taking a deep breath, I followed him down the narrow hallway and to the first room on the left. I was prepared, but I still gasped when I saw Matt’s battered body lying on the bed. Bandages covered the entire right side of his face. He saw me and managed a smile.
“Hey.” His voice was raspy and tired.
Dr. Jones excused himself before closing the door behind him. I slowly walked over to the bed and pulled a chair close to his side.
“The things you’ll do to get out of reading Macbeth,” I teased.
He laughed and then immediately grimaced in pain.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
“It’s okay, Miss Bray. Everything just hurts.”
It broke my heart to look at him. He kept fidgeting uncomfortably, and his arm was in some temporary sling. I doubted they could put a cast on him at our clinic.
“Matt, what was the fight about? What can I do?”
He swallowed, and I wondered if he was dangerously close to tears.
“You like to help people, don’t you, Miss Bray?”
Shrugging, I stared down at my hands in my lap.
“I like to try, yeah. Sometimes, it doesn’t work.”
“Like that kid in Memphis?” Matt whispered, and my eyes snapped to his. “Don’t be mad, but I was curious. I had to know why someone who’d actually escaped this place would ever come back. Now, I know.”
Tears pricked my eyes.
“Matt, I can’t have this conversation with you.”
He continued as if I hadn’t said a word. “That guy . . . he was just trying to get through high school and start a new life somewhere, wasn’t he? A life without judgment. A life without bullying. A life where you don’t have to pretend to be someone you aren’t. A place where you don’t have to worry about someone beating the shit out of you because you’re . . .
Tears streaked down my cheek. “Matt, please—”
His eyes were squeezed shut. “I thought leaving Sycamore Falls was the answer to all of my problems, Miss Bray. I thought if I could just get out of here . . . but it’s not like that at all, is it? The whole world is full of crazy assholes who will always think it’s fine to treat me like shit just because I’m . . .”
He choked back a sob, and suddenly, the only sound in the room was the strangled tears of an eighteen-year-old boy who had just made the biggest confession of his life.
He couldn’t be . . .
The images and sounds of that day hit me like a wrecking ball.
Sirens.
Gunfire.
Blood.
So much blood.
My ears began to ring and my vision blurred, and I heard Matt scream for the doctor just moments before I hit the floor.
“More?”
I nodded and watched through teary eyes as Lucas refilled my glass. The alcohol was sweet and warmed my bones. It wasn’t doing a thing for my pounding headache, though.
“Where did you find wine in this town?”
“I didn’t. When I told my parents this county was dry, they insisted I bring a case with me.”
“I love your parents. Please tell them to bring more when they come down for Thanksgiving.”
Lucas smiled. “I need to find you something to eat.”
He kissed my forehead, and I snuggled deeper into his couch and sipped my wine while he went to the kitchen to search for food. I wasn’t particularly hungry, but maybe a little food would settle my stomach and keep me from passing out again.
After being deemed healthy by the doctor, Lucas had brought me straight to his apartment. He didn’t ask any questions, and I didn’t offer any explanations. He’d simply led me toward his couch, wrapped me in a blanket, and held me close to his chest. I’d insisted on not taking any medication, and Lucas respected my wishes. I’d still napped on and off all afternoon, but my dreams were disturbing and ruined any chance I had of a restful sleep.
Lucas walked back into the room. “I made you a sandwich. I also got a text from Tommy while I was in the kitchen. Just like Mr. Stuart predicted, Patrick didn’t spend a minute in jail.”
“I didn’t really expect him to.”
He placed the plate in my lap. “Patrick’s eighteen, so I was hoping. He was released into his father’s custody. Tommy has dismissed him from the team, though.”
“For Patrick, I bet that’s worse than jail.” I stared down at my peanut butter sandwich. It looked delicious, but the thoughts of eating completely turned my stomach.
“Please try to eat, baby.”
I smiled. “Did you just call me baby?”
“Yes, I did,” Lucas whispered as he stroked my cheek. “Why? Did you like that?”
I nodded. Actually, I liked it a lot. I liked it so much I forced myself to take a bite of his sandwich.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
The question was inevitable. I’d passed out at the clinic, and I’d been a sobbing mess all afternoon. “Not really, no.”
“Do you need to talk about it?”
I did need to talk about it. I needed to tell him about Memphis and the shooting, and I probably needed to tell him about Matt.
I decided to test the waters. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure—if you eat the other half of your sandwich.”
I humored him and took a bite. Lucas handed me a glass of milk, and I frowned at the liquid in the glass.
“Did I drink all of the wine?”
Lucas smirked. “I’m cutting you off.”
I sighed heavily.
“Okay,” I said in between bites, “what is your opinion on homosexuality?”
His surprised expression would have made me laugh if this situation was the least bit humorous.
“That wasn’t what I expected at all.”
“Well?”
He gave me a puzzled look.
“Well, my general opinion is it’s not really any of my business how someone lives his or her life. I don’t necessarily agree with it, but I also don’t want to see someone ridiculed or harassed because they’re gay.”
I nodded. “That’s how I feel, too.”
I took another bite of my sandwich in an attempt to avoid his eyes. I couldn’t look at him. The man could read me like a book.
�
��Sarah, that’s a pretty specific question.”
I just continued chewing.
“Why did you ask?”
I didn’t answer, and we sat in silence until my plate was empty. I carefully placed it on the coffee table before climbing into his lap. Wrapping the blanket around us, I buried my face against his neck as he held me close. I inhaled deeply, letting his sweet scent relax me.
“You’re like a therapist or lawyer, right? Anything I tell you stays between us?”
“I’m not a therapist or a lawyer,” Lucas whispered, “but I am the man who is absolutely crazy about you. So yes, anything you tell me stays between us.”
I lifted my head to meet his eyes.
“You’re crazy about me?”
“Absolutely insane.”
I smiled. “I’m crazy about you, too.”
He kissed me—a slow, sweet kiss that flowed through me. It was warm and tender, and when we finally pulled away, his eyes were bright and adoring.
“Absolutely insane for you.” He nuzzled my cheek and held me close. Several minutes passed before I finally found the courage to say the words.
“Matt is gay.”
His eyes widened in shock. “He told you so?”
“Not in so many words, no, but I think he will, and I think Patrick knows.”
“And that’s why Patrick keeps kicking his ass?”
I nodded.
“So, Patrick is either a homophobe . . .”
“Or he’s the object of Matt’s affection.”
“Or both,” Lucas said quietly. “Are you upset because he’s gay?”
“No. It was just . . . déjà vu, I guess.”
“Memphis?” he asked, and I nodded. “Do you want to tell me that story?”
“Yes, but not tonight. I’m afraid it doesn’t have a happy ending.”
He pulled me close to his chest. “You deserve so many happy endings. I wish I could erase every painful memory you have.”
“I wish you could, too.” I snuggled deeper into his arms. “When I’m with you, it’s so easy to forget the world is a terrible place. I’ve never felt so safe or so . . .”
Embarrassed, I buried my face against his neck.
“Loved,” Lucas murmured. “Do you feel loved, Sarah?”