by Kate Benson
“I wasn’t even home yet an hour ago,” I say quietly, my breathing going slightly shallow as his scent swarms in around me, taking me captive. “Besides, I don’t have your phone number.”
“Well, I guess you’re shit out of luck then, aren’t you?” he smirks, making my cheeks heat. “Grab your jacket. It’s supposed to rain.”
“Again?” I ask, hiding my apprehension as I pull a light sweater from the small hook near the door. “Well, if it’s supposed to rain, then maybe we should…”
“Hurry and get in the truck?” he cuts me off with a wink. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I was thinking.”
We make our way into town, the hustle and bustle in the middle of our small community something rarely seen, but something that takes me back immediately to when I was a girl. There are lights hung low over the streets, deeming the streetlights completely unnecessary by the light glow radiating from them. Although the sun has just set, half of our small town is already out, ready to celebrate as the low thump of music streams through the crowd. Nate pulls into a spot, cutting the engine and glancing over to take in my reaction, seeming to sense the nerves swimming in my chest.
“Come on. Let’s go eat and have some fun.”
“Okay,” I nod, pushing the door open and stepping out, meeting him in the front of his truck. We make small talk as we make our way up the sidewalk, moving toward the crowd of locals who have already arrived. We stop at a few booths, the last one we come to selling beer and he offers me one. “I’m not much of a drinker,” I admit, memories of Eddie’s violent tendencies flashing through my chest as I take in the smell of lager.
“No?” he asks, prompting me to shake my head silently. “Will it bother you if I drink?”
“No,” I shake my head. “I mean, if you get trashed, I’ll probably walk home, but no.”
“I won’t get trashed,” he promises with a light chuckle. “I drink often, but never very much. Three is usually my limit and even that’s pretty rare.”
His words offer me a little comfort and I thank him as he hands me a bottle of water and we move into the crowd. As we walk together through the sea of locals, I learn about his job, the brief couple of years he spent in Georgia and how the end of his own long-term relationship brought him back home. He asks me questions, all light in context, which I’m grateful for. I’ve grown used to deflecting and avoiding certain questions, but with Nate, I’m happy to find that he doesn’t get too personal and I’m not forced to, either. I’m smiling quietly to myself, thinking on that when a small group approaches us, each one pulling him in for a quick hug.
“Ava, these are my friends. You might remember a few of them from school,” he offers, my mind going blank as I stare back at each of them. “This is Andy, Nick, his girlfriend Sam and that one down there on the end is Marty, but we all call him Buster.”
“Hey, Ava,” Nick greets me as the others say their own hello’s and give me friendly waves, their faces showing the same empty memories as mine likely does.
Maybe that’s a good thing, I think to myself.
“Hi, it’s nice to meet all of you,” I offer quietly, subconsciously stepping a little closer to Nate.
“How long have y’all been here?” Sam asks, her eyes moving between me and Nate, pulling a shrug from us both.
“Maybe a half hour?” he answers, glancing down at me for silent confirmation. “Not very long. I had to force this one out of the house,” he teases playfully.
“Yeah?” Andy starts, smiling at me. “She must’ve heard all those stories about Buster.”
“They’re all true, darlin’,” Buster remarks with a suggestive wink, making us all laugh.
“Did y’all eat yet?” Nick asks, making us both shake our heads. “Well, I don’t know about y’all, but I’m starvin’,” he admits, pulling Sam under his arm and turning back toward the crowd. “Laissez bon temps rouler!”
We slip into the crowd with ease, homegrown companionship bounding from all around as zydeco and good vibes push through the air and slowly enter our veins. We wait in the lengthy line for supper and are all pleased with the outcome as we find a small picnic table and dive into the bucket of crawfish that lured us into town to begin with. I don’t remember any of Nate’s friends from when I lived here before, but I’m pleasantly surprised at how welcoming they are and how low-key the night feels from the start. We take our time moving toward the center of the festival, checking out booths and continuing our easy conversation along the way. When he talks me into a friendly dance with the others, I surprise myself again by letting loose, not feeling any pressure at all for the first time in years.
The entire evening is easy, comfortable. Although I find myself surrounded by people who were strangers days ago, some less than that, I don’t feel like an outsider at all. They welcome me, no questions asked, and for the first time, I start to feel like I’m home.
As far as Nate goes, he keeps his word about the evening remaining platonic. While I couldn’t appreciate that more right now, I also can’t deny the weighted glances that surface between us the further into the night we get, the silent conversation our bodies seem to be having regardless of what our heads and hearts might have to say about it.
I know without a doubt, especially after spending time with him, that Nate Foster is someone I could see myself spending time with, maybe even falling for somewhere down the line. However, there’s the other side of that coin to consider as well; the side that seems to be controlling us both, that tells me now just isn’t the time.
I don’t know much about his past, but I know plenty about mine.
Fortunately, something tells me he’s just as keen on keeping things light as I am right now.
Before I know it, we’re moving back toward his truck, the easy feeling in my chest making my whole being seem lighter than it has in far too long.
“Did you have a good time?” Nate asks as he pulls the door open and waits for me to climb inside.
“Yes, I really did,” I confess with a small smile. “I was nervous when we left, but your friends are nice. Everyone made it really easy for me to relax for a few hours. I guess I didn’t know how much I needed it until now.”
“Well, they all really liked you a lot,” he says, pulling out into traffic. “Sam said she was especially glad I brought someone for her to talk to.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, she’s a good sport about hanging out with all us Neanderthals, but I can tell she really appreciated having another woman around for a change,” he laughs, the sound of it pulling a giggle from my chest all on its own. “Anyway, you’re welcome to come along and hang out whenever you like. There isn’t usually much to our little meet and greets, but we keep it simple and always have a good time.”
“Thanks,” I smile. “I might just take you up on that.”
The ride back to my house is short and quiet, both of us exhausted and the newborn attraction we’re both feeling impossible to deny as it ties itself between us in the cab of his truck. When we come to a stop at the edge of my driveway, he surprises me by stepping out with me and walking me to my front door.
“Thank you again for inviting me,” I say politely as I push my door open and step inside. “I’m glad I came.”
“I’m glad you came, too,” he admits, his admission seeming to surprise us both.
There’s a brief moment where I think he might lean in to kiss me, but then it’s gone just as quickly as it comes, the breeze seeming to wash it away along with all my other worries.
Regardless of how kissable his full lips suddenly look beneath the dim porchlight we’re standing beneath, I know I’m not ready for anything like that. Not yet.
“We’ll have to do it again sometime,” I offer, clearing my throat and pulling us both from the silent gaze we’re sharing.
“Well, if you insist,” he teases, shooting me a wink before he turns to make his way back down my steps, glancing over his shoulder. “You’ve got yourself a date.�
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Chapter Seven
Nate
“So, what’s this visit for again?” I ask as we pull up to the entrance of her doctor’s office and cut the engine. “Going over test results or something?”
“Yes,” my mother nods, gathering her purse and the light sweater she always brings with her as I push my door open and move around the truck. “Thank you,” she smiles as I get her door for her and help her out. “If you don’t want to come inside and sit, you don’t have to, honey. I can use the phone in the nurse’s station to call you when I’m done.”
“What?” I ask, looking at her like she’s crazy.
“Well, I know it’s no fun sitting in here.”
“So, you think I ought to drop you off at the curb and hit the bricks, huh?” I chuckle, pulling the office door open for her, laughing as she smacks me playfully and steps inside. “Not likely, Ma.”
“Well, suit yourself,” she shrugs, moving to the reception area and talking to the nurse briefly before she gives me a small wave and follows her into the back.
She’s gone for an hour and after I’ve tired of playing with my phone and flipping through the three-month-old Better Homes and Gardens magazine in front of me before I can’t help the low sigh of boredom slipping from my chest. I lean my head back, my thoughts roaming, sifting, until eventually they leave only one behind.
Ava.
I had no intention of asking her out, really hanging out with her at all. It’s not that I didn’t like her. Even that first day, I was sure she was a very nice woman with plenty to offer, I just wasn’t looking for any of it. I especially wasn’t going to ask someone out just because my mother thought it was a good idea. Don’t get me wrong, I’m admittedly a mama’s boy through and through. The woman raised me on her own after my dad died when I was a kid and there’s nothing in the world I wouldn’t do for her, but she’s been trying to set me up for the last ten years, blaming her fear of dying without grandchildren on her incessant matchmaking schemes.
I went along with it once and that was more than enough to last me a lifetime.
However, when I saw Ava in the market yesterday, fighting through what was probably the tenth awkward conversation she’d had that day alone about her father, my heart went out to her. I was ten when my dad died, and I still cringe at the memory of how people treated me afterwards. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
I don’t know, I guess I just feel bad for the girl. I know she’s all alone out here and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, either. The plan was always to just help her have a good night, maybe see if I could help her get out of that house for a few hours and do a good deed.
I never imagined I’d actually feel anything for her.
It snuck up on me, crept in quietly when I didn’t expect it. We had just finished eating and the others had left for a few minutes to hit the bar, somewhere I figured Ava wouldn’t be comfortable, so I walked alongside her instead. We stopped at a booth selling jewelry, something about a gemstone catching her eye, so her steps slowed, her head tilting just slightly to the side in wonder.
I’d been in the middle of saying something and when she didn’t reply, I walked around her to see what had so completely taken her attention from me. Her soft, blue eyes were almost grey under the moonlight, the way the lights above us hit her hair making it look like embers against her alabaster skin in the darkness. The corners of her lips tilted upward just so and, in that moment, something inside me shifted, something primal, something I knew I couldn’t ever deny again.
“What is it?” I’d asked, knowing exactly what she was looking at, but so desperate in that moment to be a part of it, to hear her soft voice, it’s still indescribable to me now. A strand of her copper hair fell, slightly blocking my view of her face and something inside me ached to brush it away so I could keep gazing at her, lock this moment somewhere deep inside to steal it for myself forever. I didn’t, but even as I recall the feeling, I can’t help the way my fingertips begin to twitch.
“My mother had one just like this,” she whispered, her voice broken, somewhat shaky, yet softer than any I’d ever heard before. She was mesmerized, same as me. I would have done anything to taste her in that moment, let my lips graze hers as her sweet voice permeated us both. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, shaking her head clear and pulling us both from our trance as she cleared her throat. “I must’ve been somewhere else.”
“That’s okay,” I replied. I think I was, too.
I encouraged her to buy the locket, but she refused, instead replacing it and moving away from the stall altogether.
“Some things are never meant to come back to you,” she’d said simply, and it was then that I saw something I knew she rarely shared with anyone.
It was then that I truly understood a piece of her I had never met before last night.
Ava is broken, too.
It’s obvious her ex had put her through hell, the very limited memory I had of him cementing my assumptions even more. Even in high school, being a few years behind me, I remember seeing Ava gradually sink into herself. We weren’t close. Hell, we weren’t even friends, but in a small town like ours, you hear things, notice them even more. She went from the occasional passing wave to nothing. Not to mention, party buzz always brought gossip and that’s when I heard their names come up most. I’d hear about their fights, how she’d leave crying and then the next week, they’d be thick as thieves again. There was always something off about the whole thing. Looking back over the last month or so that she’d been back, maybe that’s where my hesitation with her really came from.
How did I know she wouldn’t go running right back to him?
How did I know she wasn’t going to vanish in the night a month into some shit and just leave me hanging out to dry like all the other women had before her?
I didn’t.
I didn’t know that and after everything I’ve been through in past relationships, I guess I’m just sick to death of trusting people to stay when they say they will. In my life, the only ones who have stuck around have been my mom, a few friends and my dog. I made the call a long time ago that if I wasn’t sure about someone doing the same, I wasn’t wasting my time with them. I guess that’s what I’d done to Ava starting out, but somewhere along the line, she showed me something that changed the way I saw her altogether.
Yeah, she was damaged, same as me, but sometimes it takes another damaged soul to really help heal the one you’ve got yourself.
I don’t know if she’s the right girl for that job, but something keeps telling me she might just be worth the chance. Something about Ava tells me that she could either be the beginning of something amazing or the end of my sanity once and for all.
For some guys, I guess that could be a pretty terrifying thought. For me, though? It only makes me want her more.
I just need to find a way to keep her from running off like she did the other night. If I can get her to stick around for one night, I’ll ruin her in all the ways I need her to ruin me.
Despite how much I’d fought it, despite all the reservations I had when I first met her, last night was all it took for my resolve to slip away completely and all at once.
I have no idea if she could ever be interested in a guy like me, but I do know I’m not going to let her slip away without one hell of a fight for her attention.
Movement to my left pulls me from my wayward thoughts and I clear my throat, willing my thoughts to settle as I glance up toward the nurse who’s escorting my mother back to where I’m waiting.
“Is everything alright?” I ask, the uncommon sight of seeing my mom needing help something that sends alarm through me immediately.
“Yes, honey,” she nods, giving me a reassuring smile as I glance over at the nurse.
“We had to do a few more tests and the doctor needed a few samples. She’ll be just fine; her blood sugar just might be a little low. You’ll want to make sure she has something to eat.”
“More tests?” I
ask, internally shaking my head. “Alright,” I nod, shaking my concern away. “When does she have to be back?”
“We’ll hopefully have her results no later than Wednesday. The doctor will look them over and we’ll let you know if we got everything we need, or if she needs to come back in for anything else.”
“What are they testing her for?”
“Honey, you know she can’t tell you anything,” my mom interjects, pulling my eyes from the apologetic gaze of the nurse. “I’ll tell you all about it in the truck. Thank you, Lisa.”
“You’re welcome, Mrs. Foster,” she smiles, patting her arm sweetly and watching us step out.
“Mom, what the hell is going on?” I ask as I get her settled and make my way around the truck. “Why are they still testing on you? What did the doctor say?”
“He didn’t say much,” she offers, her words doing nothing to settle my nerves. “He just said that he saw some discrepancies in the yearly exams I was in for last week and wanted to follow-up on a few things just to be on the safe side.”
“What kind of discrepancies?” I ask, my eyebrows cinching together in alarm.
“Nothing for us to concern ourselves with yet,” she promises, patting my arm affectionately. “The doctor has assured me that everything right now is all routine and nothing for us to get our britches in a bunch over, so just cut it out, will ya?”
Her playful tone makes it impossible for me to stay too serious, the goofy smile stretching over her typically soft and motherly features calming me slightly.
“Fine,” I relent with a sigh. “You know I’m allowed to worry about you, right?”
“Yes, honey. I do.”
“You’re the only mom I got,” I continue, cranking the engine. “If something comes up, you’d better tell me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of anything less, punkin’.”
“Alright,” I sigh, pulling out of the parking lot and coming to a stop at the light, glancing over at her and blushing at her look of adoration at my concern. “Cut it out.”