Taking Mine

by Schneider, Rachel

  “Lilly.” He says my name again. “I’m only going to ask you one more time.”

  “I’m not good with words,” I rush out, fear settling in. “If you would just let me show you—”

  “What?” he says, derision suffocating his voice. “Like you showed me that day in the car?” It’s a slap to the face and he knows it. He looks away. “It took a whole week for you to even acknowledge me after that, and the entire time I was asking myself what I did wrong. I had convinced myself that you just needed time to cope, get used to the idea of being with me on top of everything. But really, you had already decided that you wouldn’t.”

  “No, that’s not it at all,” I say, scooting closer to him. “I didn’t know how I felt, I just knew I felt too much. I was scared. I was terrified that you deserved better and that I would never be someone who could stand next to you. All the while, I was trying to figure out what decision was right for me.”

  “It’s not about what’s right for you, Lilly. It’s about what you want, and no one can tell you that but you. I probably played my hand a little unfairly, but I never pushed you. You made every decision on your own. You just needed to be confident in them.”

  I process what he says before replying. “You remember when you told me that I didn’t know how to trust myself?”

  He looks at me, nodding perceptively.

  “I realized you were right, and I hated it. Not that you were right, but that I never gave myself the chance. I think, in a way, I crippled myself trying to better myself. The truth is, I have no idea who I am, but now I know who I don’t want to be…and I think that’s more important.”

  Slowly, his face transforms, and he says, “Why are you so fucking—”

  “Difficult?”

  “Beautiful.” He smiles, and if my heart could, it would melt. “And difficult,” he adds. I laugh, and he wraps a hand around the back of my neck, drawing my mouth up to his. “And smart.” He kisses me. “And sexy.” Another kiss. “And in so much trouble with my mom.”

  I break away, laughing. “I think I can handle her.”

  “What happened to being intimidated by her?”

  I place an open-mouth kiss along his throat and feel his grasp tighten. “I proved that I make a better peach cobbler than her. Did I ever tell you how attractive I think your neck is?”

  “What?” He laughs.

  “I’ve probably spent way too much time fantasizing about your neck.”

  He pulls back, looking down at me. “That’s so weird,” he says. “Of all my amazingness, you think my neck is the best?”

  “Of course not,” I say, reaching for the button of his pants. “You have decent arms.”

  He gazes down at me. “God, I missed you.”

  I don’t wait, loving the adoration in his eyes, feeling the need to give the same in return. “I love you. And I know I’ve got a lot of making up to do, but we’ll work on it, together. Like remission.”

  He swallows. “You can start by repeating that.”

  “I love you,” I say, running my fingers over his jaw.

  “I love you, too,” he says, placing a feather-light kiss on my forehead.

  We kiss slowly, gradually increasing pressure in the process. I sit up, and he peels my shirt off before doing the same to his. Leaning over, he kisses along the curve of my shoulder, down my chest. It’s slow, and careful, but it’s exactly what we need. He unbuttons my shorts and drags them down my legs, trailing his mouth over my exposed skin. I run my hands through his hair as his mouth lands on the part of me that seemingly needs him most. He gives everything to me, and it reminds me of the night before everything fell apart. This is a do-over, our do-over.

  He disposes of his jeans and repositions himself above me, hiking my knee up to his hip as he slowly enters me. We don’t speak, our eyes locked on one another as we collectively let out shaky breaths. It’s amazing, and I don’t need to second-guess whether this is what I want or what I need, but it’s just right.

  Afterwards we lie on the couch, unmoving, half his body still on top of mine. Neither one of us makes an effort to move, comfortable with every inch of our skin touching.

  My words come out raspy when I say, “How are we going to commute?”

  He leans up on his forearm. “We won’t. I’ll move to Brighton.”

  “How do you know where I live?” He gives me a look. “You’re right, dumb question. But what about your job? How does that work?”

  His lips thin, and I’m scared of what he’s about to say, a trickle of uncertainty. How often does he go on jobs? Who’s to say how long he’ll be gone?

  “I no longer work for the department,” he says.

  “What, since when?”

  “Since I pulled the trigger on the investigation. The case was aiming to get Lance to the higher-ups, who John Monroe was working for, so they could pinpoint when the drugs were entering the country. When Kip’s and my plan fell through, and with what happened to Dan, it kind of forced my boss’s hand.”

  “I’m confused. When were you let go?”

  “Right after you were released.”

  I sit up, forcing him to do the same. “Did you know you would be fired?”

  “It was insinuated.”

  “Justin—”

  “Lilly.” He says my name with a smile. “It’s fine. I’ve got enough savings to get me by, and I’ll find a police department near Brighton.”

  “What about the farm? Jacob said you’ve been helping your dad harvest.”

  “We should be done by the end of the month.” He pulls me into his embrace, breathing into the crook of my neck. “It’ll be just in time for graduation.”

  I relax. This is what I need, someone to talk me down from the ledge of insanity.

  “Can I ask you something?” I say, pulling away. He looks at me expectantly. “Why did you strip in front of the whole class?”

  He laughs and pulls a strand of hair out from behind my ear. “First rule of being an undercover cop—do something a cop wouldn’t do.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “And I may have been showing my ass a little, hoping to get your attention.”

  “You did a great job.”

  “Lilly, I was technically never undercover.”

  “I’m lost.”

  He sits, dragging my feet into his lap and massaging them. “I was working on the case with Lance, but I wasn’t in the field. I just happened to accidentally run into you that day at the café.”

  “But...”

  “You intrigued me.” He shrugs with a shy smile. “When we first started surveillance on Kaley, we kept an eye on you. If Kaley knew something, we figured you would too. After a while, Lance came to the conclusion that neither you nor Kaley knew anything, and we were scheduled to stop the detail. That is, until the night you stole the Mustang from Blackjack’s.”

  “I didn’t steal it,” I say.

  “No, you got Dan to steal it. But Lance caught wind of it the next day in John’s office. That’s when we learned about John’s involvement with Toby’s and the deal he was making to Taylor.”

  There’s something that’s been bothering me, and right now is the perfect time to bring it up. “The Toyota…”

  “Bait car,” he says, smiling.

  I take a second to absorb all this new information. “But how did you know where to put it?”

  “Simple. We found the locations with the highest rate of stolen vehicles and followed you to be sure.”

  “Then what was with the cop?”

  “Coincidence.”

  I lie back down, processing everything. Justin’s fingers dig into my instep, and my foot arches at the touch. “So at first you were just into me,” I say, staring at the ceiling.

  “Yes. And then things got complicated, but at that point I had already made my interest known, so backing off wasn’t an option.”

  “Wow,” I say after a moment. “Just wow.”

  He trades feet. “Remember th
e day you showed up at my apartment? You were stressed out about school and you just wanted to hang out.” He laughs, finding something humorous. “I was so scared to be alone in the same room with you. I remember thinking that there was no way I was going to make it through the night.”

  “Is that why we went bowling?”

  “It was the only thing I could think of that didn’t require touching.”

  THE TAXI PULLS INTO THE DRIVEWAY, and I can’t stop the excitement bubbling in my chest. I graduate tomorrow, and he made it here just in time.

  “He’s super tall,” Cal says, standing beside me.

  “He only seems tall because you’re so short.”

  Justin doesn’t bother to retrieve his luggage as he gets out of the car and envelops me in a hug, spinning me around in the process. It's been three weeks since I returned home, leaving him to finish helping his dad for the season. Finishing the semester is tough as it is with senioritis kicking in, but anticipating Justin's move only added to my excitement.

  He sets me on my feet, and Cal takes the opportunity to introduce himself. “Hey, I'm Cal.”

  Justin's forced to step back, but he takes it in stride, squatting closer to Cal's level. “I'm Justin. Lilly's told me a lot about you.”

  Cal's parents are no longer in the picture, and Mr. Wilson has been fighting tooth and nail for the state to officially award him custody. Cal's been in a state of limbo, and after watching foster care try to step in a few times, it gave me an idea of where I might like to be in a few years.

  “That's because I'm her best friend,” Cal says, pointing to his chest with his thumb, an air of arrogance in his posture.

  Justin raises an eyebrow. “She told me that. She also told me that you and I might have something in common.” Cal waits, a look of indifference crossing his boyish features. “Do you have a craving for some peach cobbler?”

  It's like Justin declared war as Cal's face turns numerous shades of pink. “I'm not sharing,” he says, all but putting his foot down.

  Justin's taken back as he stands from his crouched position. “He's territorial, isn't he?” he says, giving me a look.

  I grimace through a smile. “I've never seen him like this.”

  Mr. Wilson steps out of his front door, calling Cal's name for dinner.

  Cal groans, dropping his head back at the same time. “But I'm not hungry.”

  “You're lucky you even got a chance to visit. You're still punished, young man.” Mr. Wilson points at the ground.

  Cal doesn't say bye as he drags his little feet home. He looks so sad, and it squeezes my heart. I say his name to get his attention. “We're still on for the zoo next week?”

  He smiles. “Heck yes.”

  Mr. Wilson pulls him inside and gives me a look. “You are a bad influence,” he says, shaking his head.

  “But you love me,” I say.

  He doesn't respond as he flips his wrist in the air, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with my statement.

  “How does a seven-year-old get in trouble?” I bite my lip, afraid to say it, and Justin grows suspicious in my silence. “Lilly,” he says, drawing my name out and wrapping his arms around me.

  “He may or may not have been caught stealing other kids’ lunch money.” His eyes widen. “But it's all circumstantial,” I say, trying to reason.

  “You really are a bad influence.” He laughs.

  The taxi honks, completely forgotten about, and Justin jogs over to pay and retrieve his suitcase. He hands me a duffel bag, the same one he brought to the shipyard, and he carries the rest. We drop the bags right by the door as Justin takes in his new residence.

  “It's small,” I say, feeling a little self-conscious.

  He smiles at me, placing the first kiss on my lips since arriving. “It's perfect.”

  “We can get something bigger after I finish school—”

  “Lilly, quit.”

  I sag in his arms, relieved. “It's just…you came all the way here to move in with me and you might not like it and I just want you to be happy and—”

  This time he silences me with a kiss, and he doesn't let up until he's satisfied that I quit rambling. “I brought something for you.”

  “Like a gift? What for?”

  He walks to the duffel on the floor and retrieves something in his hand. It's not until he's closer that I recognize what it is. It's a toy car that's been painted the lightest shades of pink, and it's an exact replica of the car we saw at the charity event. The one that I said resembled a life-sized Hot Wheels car.

  Smiling through tears, I clutch it in my fist. Justin's face slowly transforms into concerned boyfriend when he noticed, caught off guard by my reaction.

  “Is it okay?”

  I laugh. “Yes. Just stay right here.” I run up the stairs, retrieving the overnight bag that I never unpacked, and find what I'm looking for. When I make it downstairs, Justin's lounging on the couch with a stupid grin on his face.

  “I bought this when I went Christmas shopping with Kaley.” I drop the tiny cop car into the palm of his hand.

  He stares at it a moment before slowly sitting forward, rotating it in his hand. He makes a fist around it, looking up at me from his position with eyes full of wonder. “If you had any doubt that we're not right for each other, or that maybe me moving in isn't the right decision, this should convince you otherwise.”

  I smile as I sink onto his lap. “There's no doubt. Matter of fact, I have no doubt that you're going to be on laundry duty until the day you die.”

  He laughs. “As long as you do the cooking.”

  “Best decision I’ve ever made.”

  We kiss, and I know we'll be okay. Better than that, we'll be happy, because that's what we are for each other. We're just right.

  I SUPPOSE I SHOULD START WITH MY HUSBAND, Marlon, for encouraging me to pursue my dreams, and without even caring whether or not I’m good at it. You inspire me to love without conditions and prove that it is, indeed, possible with every day that you love me.

  Alicia, dedicating this book to you should be enough, but we both know it’s really, really not. This book wouldn’t have happened, our friendship wouldn’t be where it is today, and you’d miss out on my awesomeness. So thank you.

  Mom, thank you for giving birth to me. I’m not kidding. I wouldn’t be where I am, who I am, or as happy as I am without your love.

  Myriah, forever and a day ago I begged you for help in your car expertise and coolness. Intentional or not, I found myself using you as inspiration for Lilly, which may weird you out considering there are sex scenes. Get over it.

  Murphy, thank God I scored you as my editor/graphic designer because I would have been lost without someone who was willing to put up with my ignorance. Thank you for the encouragement, sacrifice, and patience you bestowed upon me. I’m so sorry.

  Book Swapper’s, thank you for being the most giving, accepting, smartass group of book friends I could have ever met. Thank you, Sara Ney (last name rhymes with shy) for your help with figuring out my dedication and this acknowledgement, because I still don’t know what I’m doing. Christine Kuttnauer, thank you for your awesome voice messages and your ability to pinpoint everything I missed.

  Krisitin, I kind of thank you, kind of hate you, kind of love you, kind of don’t. You understand.

  Elaine, thank you for being the most awesome formatter I could have ever scored.

  Marie, thank you for your legal advice and explaining why distributing drugs is the worst idea ever.

  Ramzi, thank you for putting up with my technologically challenged self, and for holding back every smartass retort that ran through your mind.

  Sara, thank you for editing this last minute and encouraging me online. You’re the best.

  And thank you to everyone that read this book. Hopefully, most of you loved it, and enjoyed reading Lilly and Justin’s story. But let’s be real, there’s a number of you who hated it. If you’re one of those people, raise your hand, becau
se y’all rock, too.