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If You Let Me: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

Page 11

by Nikki Lane


  “You don’t sound too thrilled. Is she marrying a jerk or something?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that. I just don’t feel like getting the third degree about my life. I can just hear it now.”

  “Well, maybe if you visited more often, they’d stop.”

  “Yeah, and maybe if I wish really hard I’ll win the lottery and be able to quit my job.”

  “You have to go. It’s important.”

  “It wouldn’t be so bad if I had something to deflect them.”

  “Like?”

  “Like a plus one.”

  I tilted my head. “Blondie?”

  “No,” he said, grimacing.

  Something clanged in the kitchen of the diner. The waitress came by to make sure we didn’t need anything else.

  “I’ll go with you,” I replied, shrugging.

  Kieran peered up at me from under his thick lashes, his hand frozen in mid-air, still holding the glass he just drank from. “Really?”

  “Sure. I mean…for moral support.”

  “You’d be doing me a huge favor.”

  “I guess I do owe you one.”

  Kieran flopped a french fry into his mouth, a smile budding on his lips. “I promise you’ll have a good time.

  I swirled the straw in my soda. “With you as my date, I wouldn’t doubt it.”

  * * * *

  My eyes grew heavy on the way home. When we reached our street, I was ready to collapse in bed. Kieran walked me to my house.

  “Thanks, again,” I said, opening the door. “I had a really nice time.”

  “What are you doing later?”

  “I think I’m just going to head to bed. You wore my ass out today.”

  “Want to watch a movie or something?”

  “Don’t you ever get tired?”

  “No,” he said without missing a beat.

  “Okay,” I said. “Just let me get a shower.”

  Kieran headed home to do the same and showed up back at the house. He parked himself on the couch and patted the space next him. I plopped down.

  “Popcorn?” he said.

  “Good luck finding any.” I nuzzled the blanket.

  He got up to raid my cabinets while I browsed through the movies. He came back to the couch with a half-empty bag of cashews. He seemed happy enough and propped his feet on the coffee table. After arguing over what to watch, we finally settled on something. I could barely keep my eyes open twenty minutes into the movie.

  “Are you falling asleep?” Kieran asked.

  “Some of us normal people need sleep.”

  “Here,” he said, pulling my arm closer to him. He grabbed a throw pillow so that I could rest my head on his lap. I let my eyes close for just a few minutes.

  When I opened them again, the television was off. I blinked a few times.

  “How long was I asleep?”

  “Forty-five minutes.”

  “How long’s the movie been over?”

  “About twenty minutes.”

  “What time is it?” I asked, getting up.

  “A little after two.”

  “How come you didn’t wake me?”

  “You looked comfortable,” he said.

  “What?” Kieran was staring at me. “Did I snore? Talk in my sleep?” I wiped my face for any evidence of drool.

  “No,” he said, smiling. His face searched mine, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  “Nothing…I just. Never mind.”

  I curled back on the couch.

  “Maybe I should go,” Kieran said.

  He got up, and I walked him to the door. I stood, watching him as he turned back toward me.

  “Goodnight, Rose.”

  “Goodnight, Kieran.”

  I lumbered to bed alone.

  Chapter 16

  “Dad?”

  The television was blaring, but he wasn’t in the recliner. Sizzling emanated from the kitchen. Was he cooking? He was okay with the basics—toast, boiled egg, an occasional hot dog fried in a pan.

  “Dad?” Still no answer as I made my way to the kitchen.

  His hearing wasn’t the best, but I was talking loud enough. The kitchen was empty, an empty smoking pan on the lit burner.

  “Shit,” I said, turning the burner off.

  Something was wrong. The smoke alarms went off, and I opened the kitchen window. I dashed around the house with my heart flapping into my throat. I barreled through the hallway bathroom, the door left slightly ajar. Dad lay on the cold tile floor, his eyes closed.

  “Oh my God, Dad!”

  I kneeled down and checked his pulse. It was there, pulsing a mile a minute. I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and dialed 911. As I ended the call, Dad’s eyes fluttered open.

  “Rosie?” he groaned.

  “I’m here, Dad.”

  I checked his head for any wounds and was relieved at the absence of blood.

  “I think I fainted,” Dad grumbled.

  “I think you’re right. The ambulance is on their way.”

  “Help me sit up.”

  I grabbed one of his clammy hands. His complexion was whiter than a sheet.

  “Not so fast,” I said.

  I was able to help him into a sitting position. He leaned his weight against the vanity. I dashed into the living room to grab his glucose machine. His sugar read sixty-nine.

  Dad closed his eyes, and I panicked. Was he losing consciousness again?

  “Dad, stay awake.”

  “I can’t keep my eyes open.” A trembling hand wiped the sweat from his brow.

  “I know. Just try.”

  I ran back to the kitchen and poured a glass of orange juice. After a few sips, he was able to stay awake. The sound of the ambulance whined outside.

  “Tell them I feel just fine,” Dad said, taking another sip of juice.

  “You’re going to the hospital,” I said. “That’s not negotiable.”

  I let the EMTs inside and told them the story. They helped him onto the stretcher, and I followed them to the hospital.

  After hours in the ER, I was able to take Dad home. He inadvertently taken too much insulin, which sent him into diabetic shock or severe hypoglycemia, as the doctor called it. He had a mild concussion from the fall, but after his sugar stabilized he was looking much better. I was relieved to see the color return to his complexion.

  “I’ll stay the night,” I said.

  “Don’t you have plans?”

  Dad looked so small sitting in the front seat. Was he shrinking? I couldn’t bear to think of what could have happened if I hadn’t stopped by. I was tired and almost didn’t make the trip. But maybe it was some divine intervention that changed my mind.

  “Do you?” I asked, turning onto his street.

  The neighborhood used to be filled with kids playing kickball or riding bikes. Most of us had grown up together. All that remained in the street now were the trash cans waiting to be collected.

  Dad smiled and pulled out his phone from his pocket. “Not at this hour.”

  Once inside the house, Dad and I settled onto the couch. I’d kept some clothes there just in case. He flicked through the channels before settling on Saturday Night Live.

  “How’s that friend of yours doing?” Dad asked.

  I could see he was hiding a smile as the light from the television flickered over his face.

  “Kieran?”

  Dad nodded.

  “He’s fine.”

  “Bring him by one day. I’d like to meet him.”

  I shot him a look. “Maybe.”

  “I’m not going to live forever, Rose.”

  I hated this conversation. We’ve had it once before.

  “Of course, you are,” I said. A childhood wish I wasn’t ready to give up.

  “No, I won’t. And I don’t want to die before I see you happy. Settled.”

  “I am happy.” At least partly.
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  “Take it from someone who’s lived all these years alone.” He lowered the volume of the TV. “Find someone who will love you. Who will take care of you. You’ve done a great job taking care of your old man. But now it’s time for you to make a life for yourself.”

  I felt the pit forming in my stomach. Dad took up a lot of my time, yes. But I never resented him for it. I did it because I loved him, not because he expected me to. But I couldn’t ignore the fact that I had missed some pretty typical teenage experiences. I didn’t go to prom, I had to quit the cheerleading squad, even though I wasn’t so sad about that, and I worked a part-time job to help out with the bills. I even went to a college I could commute to so that I could still live at home to help him. The misery of Mom leaving was tattooed on his heart. I just couldn’t be another woman who left him alone.

  “And if guys aren’t your thing, that’s okay, too.”

  My face flushed. “Dad…!”

  We’d never had “the talk”, and I was hoping his earlier episode didn’t trigger some say-it-now-or-never moment. I never talked guys with Dad, and he hadn’t ever met my boyfriends.

  Thinking back on my romantic choices, I’d say that was a pretty wise decision.

  “I date,” I said. “Guys by the way.”

  “That’s good to hear…about the dating I mean.”

  “I just haven’t found one worthy of an introduction.”

  I got up from the couch to make a bag of microwave popcorn. I could tell we were both still wound up from the ER. While it popped, I got two glasses of water and handed one to Dad before setting mine down. The doctor was clear it was imperative that he stay hydrated.

  I poured the steaming popcorn into a bowl and settled down next to Dad.

  “Any potential?”

  I was hesitant to say. Did he really want to hear that I’d gone out with a man twice my age?

  “No. There was this guy I met at a bar.”

  That sounded terrible. No great love story started with “They met at a bar…”

  “And?” Dad said.

  I smiled and dipped a hand into the popcorn bowl. “And let’s just say I don’t plan on doing that again.”

  My phone rang from within my purse.

  “Who would be calling you at this hour?” Dad asked as I got up to answer.

  I had a suspicion.

  “Hello?” I said.

  “Rose, thank God. Are you okay?” The alarm was clear in Kieran’s voice.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “You’re not home. And it’s like six hours past your bedtime.”

  I stifled a laugh. “My Dad wasn’t feeling well, and we just got home from the ER about an hour ago.”

  “Is he okay?” Kieran asked.

  I turned to see Dad pretending not to listen to the conversation.

  “Yeah, Kieran. He’s okay. It was low blood sugar.”

  “Let me know if you need anything.”

  I sat back down on the couch. “Thanks. That’s really nice of you.”

  “Goodnight, Rose.”

  “Goodnight, Kiernan.”

  Dad ate a handful of popcorn and looked at the TV. I tossed the phone onto the other couch.

  “Your friend seems very concerned for you,” Dad finally said.

  “He’s an insomniac. It’s the only reason why he noticed I wasn’t there.”

  Dad gently shook his head.

  “What?” I said.

  “For being so smart, you sure can be clueless.”

  “What are you saying, old man?”

  On the spectrum of relationship material, Kieran wasn’t even on the charts.

  “Open your eyes and your heart. You’ll be surprised by how it can change your life.”

  * * * *

  “So where are you taking me this time?” I said before letting out a huge yawn.

  Kieran had roped me into yet another weekend adventure that, for some reason, required a pre-dawn wake-up call.

  “It’s a surprise.”

  I groaned.

  Kieran laughed. “Just relax. Didn’t you learn anything from our first trip?”

  Another hour drive before we passed the Cape May lighthouse. I remembered a trip I took with my parents when I was about seven. We spent the day at the beach and then went out for dinner. It had remained the last happy memory of my parents still together.

  Kieran drove to the farthest point of town, passing the bird sanctuary, and parked right at Sunset Beach. You could barely feel the heat of the sun through the ocean breeze. Sea gulls dipped and dove near the water.

  We walked to the beach, grains of sand whipping in the air. The water lapped onto the pebble covered shore and then returned to the ocean. Something poked out far back in the water.

  “Another secret spot?” I said.

  Kieran bent down and picked up a milky white stone. It was a little bigger than a quarter and just one of thousands that blanketed the wet sand. When he held it up for me to see, it became translucent in the sunlight. “We came to look for these.” He handed the stone to me.

  “Why?” I asked, examining it. “What’s so special about this rock?”

  He smiled, his hair whipping from the wind. “They’re not rocks.” He bent over and picked up another one. This one was a little bigger and more of a beige color. “They’re Cape May diamonds.”

  “Diamonds?” I cried. I looked out into the water. “This water just spits out diamonds?”

  “No,” he said, chuckling. “They’re actually pure quartz crystal.” He started a slow walk along the beach. “During the Ice Age the whole Northeast was covered in giant sheets of ice. As they melted and moved north, they left behind these quartz pieces broken off from the mountains. As the pieces make their way through the ocean they get buffeted and polished. The strong wind and waves toss them back onto the shore. They say it takes one stone three thousand years to make the journey.”

  I looked at the stone again with a whole new appreciation. Somehow, it felt heavier in my hand.

  “You see that over there?” Kieran pointed toward the weird structure jutting up from the water.

  I nodded.

  “That’s the World War I concrete ship Atlantus that sunk during a storm. It helps direct the stones onto the beach.”

  “Wow,” I replied. “That is amazing.”

  “Most of the stones look they these,” he said, referring to the ones we were holding. “But some are as clear as diamonds. Almost as hard too, hard enough to cut glass.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  He shrugged. “I’m a lot smarter than I look.”

  “Can we try and find a clear one?”

  “You can try, but I doubt you’ll find one.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they’re rare, which makes them even more precious.”

  “Have you ever seen one?”

  “One,” he said, looking out to the ocean. “I was eleven, and it took me all summer.”

  I focused my eyes on the stones lining the beach. “I’m pretty determined.”

  Kieran laughed. “We could be here all day.”

  “That’s fine with me,” I said.

  I stopped and scooped up a handful of stones and wet sand. Kieran amused my search for a couple hours. We found plenty of white and beige ones, but that was about it.

  “How about a break,” Kieran said.

  “But I’m not done searching yet,” I whined.

  “We’ll come back and look again,” he said. “I promise.”

  We plopped down on the sand.

  “Thanks for bringing me out here today,” I said.

  “Thanks for coming with me.”

  “I actually had a nice time.”

  “Don’t sound too shocked.”

  “To be honest, I am a little.”

  “I’ll consider that a huge accomplishment.”

  “I’m not that hard to please.”

  “Neither am I.” He leaned back on his elbows.

&nbs
p; “I like you like this,” I said. I knew that I could be stepping into sticky territory. But I couldn’t help it. “Makes the other side of you tolerable.” I ran a handful of warm, silky sand through my fingers.

  “The other side of me?”

  “Yeah, the obnoxious side. The one that loves to wake me up in the middle of the night.”

  “This may surprise you, but there’s more to me than what may appear.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me at all,” I admitted.

  Chapter 17

  “What are we looking for again?” Shelby asked, looking through the sale rack.

  “A dress,” I replied.

  “A dress for a wedding?”

  “Right.”

  “A wedding of someone you don’t know.”

  “Right.”

  “With Kieran.”

  “Right.” I pulled a dress off the rack, grimaced at the lack of material, and then put it back.

  She stopped mid stride, her hand hanging on a row of sequin dresses. Her hair was pinned back, showing off her huge silver hoop earrings. She popped the gum in her mouth. “And how did this happen again?”

  I kept my eyes on the little black dress I was admiring. I wasn’t crazy about the black lace sheathing, but it was under a hundred bucks and had a red clearance tag, which meant it made the bring-to-the-dressing-room pile, collecting on my arm.

  “He asked for a favor, and I agreed. Well, technically, I offered to go with him but whatever,” I said, shaking my head. “Same difference.”

  “Okay…we can pretend that means the same thing.” She pulled something red and strappy, barely clinging to the hanger, and draped it on my arm.

  “You didn’t even check the size,” I said. “That looks two sizes too small.”

  “Doesn’t matter. A little Vaseline can fix that right up.”

  “I am not going through a five-hour reception praying my zipper doesn’t bust.”

  We walked in unison, on opposite sides of the clothing aisle.

  “So, you’re going to meet his family?”

  “I’d assume so. It’s his sister who’s getting married.”

  “Who will you say you are?”

  “A friend. What else would I say?” I sensed she was staring at me as I examined another dress. “What?” I huffed, looking up at her.

  “You’re playing with fire here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I like Kieran. And he’s gorgeous.” She sifted through a few hangers. “But isn’t he a little reminiscent of ghosts of boyfriends past?”

 

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