by Piper James
I followed them back to Felicia’s apartment, which was located in a complex called Germantown Park. All the apartment buildings looked like gingerbread houses—brown with white trim, complete with curly embellishments and cobblestone walkways.
I didn’t remember the complex being here when I was growing up, so it must’ve been built within the last few years. It was almost like stepping back in time, and when I parked my Jeep, I hopped out and stared at the place, slack-jawed.
“Do Hansel and Gretel live here?” I asked Felicia, my eyes cartoonishly wide.
“Shut the hell up,” she laughed, flipping me off. “The rent is cheap, and the landlord is competent. What else does a girl need?”
I laughed as she turned to lead the way toward her place. Karly followed behind me, calling in a pizza delivery order. As we climbed the outdoor staircase to the second floor, I forced my mouth to stay closed. Each step was painted a different bright color, and the banister was candy-cane striped.
“Don’t say it, Jessa Maddox,” Felicia said without turning around, like she’d sensed my mirth. “No, Santa’s elves don’t live here, either.”
A laugh burst free without my consent. When we reached the second-floor walkway, I said, “I wasn’t going to say that.”
“Sure,” she deadpanned. “And I bet you weren’t going to start singing the It’s a Small World theme song, either, were you?”
“Nope,” I laughed. “But you’re giving me some great ideas.”
“Heard them all,” she said, shaking her head as she turned to unlock her apartment.
“Pizza will be here in thirty,” Karly announced as we walked inside.
“Great. I think I have some wine we can share,” Felicia replied, wandering further inside toward the small kitchen area in the back.
The apartment wasn’t very big, but it felt extremely welcoming. A large leather couch curled in an “L” shape in one corner and had a huge ottoman tucked against it. A large screen television hung on the opposite wall, flanked by paintings that depicted dark forests filled with twinkling lightning bugs.
The kitchen ran along the back wall and was flanked by a small dining area that held a round table with four chairs. A door to the left led to what I assumed was her bedroom, and one on the right was open, revealing a tiny powder room.
“I love it,” I said as Felicia came back bearing a wine bottle and three glasses.
“Thanks,” she said, handing me an empty glass before filling it halfway with a delicious smelling red. “It’s home.”
Once we were settled on the couch with our wine, the girls looked at me expectantly. My eyes darted back and forth between them as I debated whether or not to play dumb. I knew what they were waiting for. I just didn’t want to acknowledge it.
I didn’t want to admit that I’d broken my only rule.
When neither of them spoke, I sighed. “I may have let myself catch feelings for Rafe.”
“May have?” Karly asked, her tone matching her skeptical expression.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” I groaned before taking a large drink of wine. “It was supposed to be simple—have fun together with no real attachment. Rafe obviously stuck to our deal. He’s done and moving on with his life. No harm, no foul.”
“How do you know what he’s thinking if you haven’t talked to him?” Felicia asked.
“I think his silence speaks for itself.”
“But…you haven’t called him, either,” Karly argued. “How do you know he’s not having the same thoughts and feelings you’re having now? Maybe he thinks you’re done.”
“Maybe I should be,” I said, my vision blurring as I imagined my life moving forward without Rafe in it.
“It doesn’t seem like that’s what you want,” Felicia said, her voice gentle.
I met her gaze. “But it’s what I should want, Felicia. I’ve spent my entire life maintaining a distance from people so they couldn’t make me feel the way I feel right now.”
“Which is?”
“Hurt. Abandoned. Lonely.”
“You trusted us enough to let us in,” Karly said, using her wineglass to motion between herself and Felicia. “And look how well that turned out.”
“That’s different,” I said, ignoring the inner voice that told me it really wasn’t all that different.
I’d let my defenses down for a few minutes, and these two slipped right underneath the walls I’d spent my whole life building. I’d allowed Rafe to do the same thing, but somehow, Karly and Felicia felt more secure. Something in my gut told me it was safe to open myself up to them. That I wouldn’t get hurt.
But Rafe Walton was a different story. His innate goodness, his humor, and his unwavering desire to bring me pleasure—of all kinds—had drawn me in. Somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten to keep the door to my heart locked, and he’d opened that fucker up and waltzed right in.
And there was nothing I could do to stop him from leaving.
“Maybe I became too needy,” I mused aloud.
“Bullshit,” Felicia said. “You are a strong and independent woman. I can’t imagine you turning into a stage five clinger.”
“Did you start calling or texting him a lot? Showing up at his work?” Karly asked.
“No. None of that,” I replied.
“That’s what I thought,” she said. Then she cocked her head to stare at me thoughtfully. “What if he is feeling the same way you are? Like he’s let his feelings grow too strong, and he’s backing off because he thinks it’s what you want?”
“It’s what I should want,” I repeated, my gaze on the wine I swirled in my glass.
“Is it?” Felicia asked.
And for the first time in my life, I wasn’t so sure.
29
Rafe
Sixty-three. That’s how many times I’d picked up my phone, intending to text Jessa over the last five days.
But every time I started to type a message, my fingers automatically tapped out statements like, “I miss you” and “I need to see you.” I ended up deleting the needy, pathetic words, telling myself that the silence between us was a good thing.
Jessa obviously thought so, if her own lack of communication was any indication. If she didn’t think this thing between us had run its course, she would’ve called, right? Or knowing her, she would’ve shown up on my doorstep, wearing a skirt and no bra.
The thought brought me back to the first time I saw her. A sad chuckle rumbled in my chest at the memory of her wielding that bra like a set of nunchucks, nearly taking my eye out. She’d been pink with mortification, the rosy color making her brown eyes sparkle.
“That’s it. I’m calling her,” I mumbled, stomping toward the kitchen to grab my phone from the charging station.
I ground to a halt and spun around when a fist pounded on my front door several times in quick succession. My heart stuttered as I paused where I was, breathing hard.
Was it Jessa? Had my thoughts and wishes somehow materialized, bringing her here in that little white tank top I loved so much?
“Rafe, open up,” accompanied another round of knocking, making me sag with disappointment.
I walked over and swung open the door, stepping aside as my brother stalked forward. I opened my mouth to tell him he could’ve just came in—he grew up here, too—but my eyes landed on the couch, and I snapped my mouth closed. The memory of Jessa riding me in that very spot was enough to stop me from offering Nate carte blanche access. It was good that he knocked.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, realizing he was pacing back and forth across the living room.
“What? Nothing,” he said, plopping down on the couch and rubbing his eyes.
“It’s obviously something,” I said, sitting on the opposite end of the sofa. “You came marching in here with a fire under your ass. What is it?”
“Eh, women,” he sighed, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.
My head reared back in surprise. As much as I’d t
ried to assure my little brother I’d always be there for him and he could talk to me about anything, he’d never confided in me about his love life. I’d always assumed he thought I’d judge him for his womanizing ways…and he wasn’t wrong.
I’d tried many times to give him unsolicited advice about his sex life when we were younger, but in recent years, I’d given up. He was old enough to know better by now and didn’t need his big brother breathing down his neck. The fact that he was here now, obviously needing to talk to me about something—or someone—piqued my interest.
“Any woman in particular?” I asked when he didn’t offer anything else.
He lifted his head from the back of the couch and looked at me, uncertainty shining in his blue eyes. My curiosity spiked even further as I stared back and waited for his answer.
Nate Walton was never uncertain when it came to seducing women.
“There’s this girl,” he started, the words oozing from him as slow as molasses.
“Does this girl have a name?” I asked when he didn’t say more.
“Irrelevant,” he said quickly, then shook his head. “I slept with her once, and she’s decided she wants to be with me. Like, in a relationship.”
“Okay,” I said, drawing the word out like a question to urge him to continue.
“It was a mistake, Rafe. I don’t even like her very much. But now she’s convinced we belong together, and she won’t leave me alone.”
Magic dick. That’s what Nate used to say about his member when he was younger and cockier. He was still cocky now, but in his late teens? He was nearly unbearable. When I’d asked him why so many girls were chasing after him all the time, that had been his answer—his magic dick kept them coming back for more.
I’d called him a mega-douche for saying that at the time.
“Is she crazy? Do you need a restraining order?” I asked.
“No. Nothing like that,” he sighed. “If it were that easy, I’d already be rid of her.”
“Then, what’s the problem?” I asked.
“Her father owns the bank that holds the loan for the shop,” he mumbled.
My head tilted as I tried to put the pieces together. “So?”
“She’s threatening to go crying to daddy, telling him I used and abused her if I don’t agree to commit myself to her. She says she has him wrapped around her little finger and can get him to fudge my paperwork to look like I’m in default on the loan. I could lose the shop, Rafe.”
“What?” I yelled, leaping to my feet. “That’s extortion. It’s despicable and, not to mention, illegal!”
“I know,” he said, his voice somber, “but I can’t take the chance that she’d somehow be able to pull it off. I can’t lose Walton’s. I won’t.”
“Of course, you won’t,” I assured him. “You should go to the police.”
“With what?” he asked, his words laced with frustration. “She hasn’t done anything, yet. Just made a few thinly veiled threats.”
“Maybe you could get her talking and record the conversation. If you have proof she’s threatening you, the police would have to listen.”
“I tried that,” he said, shaking his head. “She’s clever. She only said the words the one time and refuses to say them outright again. She just gives me knowing looks and vague metaphors. I don’t know what to do.”
“Well, you can’t give in. There’s no way I’d allow you to be involved with someone who stoops to extortion to get what they want.”
At that, Nate smiled. “Okay, Dad.” His smile dropped, and he leaned forward to prop his elbows on his knees. “I’ll never allow myself to be roped in and tied down—especially like this. I just needed to talk it out with someone. So, thanks.”
“I don’t feel like I did anything to be thanked for,” I said, retaking my seat with a sigh.
“You’re here for me, just like always,” he said, one corner of his mouth turning up to reveal a shallow dimple.
“I always will be,” I promised.
“Enough about me,” he said after clearing his throat. “How are things going with Jessa?”
“Next topic,” I said with a deep breath.
“Uh oh. What happened? I thought you two had a good thing going.”
“We did. And now, it’s over.”
“Rafe.”
“Nate,” I said, copying his impatient tone.
“Come on, man. You’re always here to listen to my problems. Let me do the same for you.”
“It’s nothing all that serious,” I said, attempting an air of nonchalance. “We made an agreement—this thing between us would be short-term. No expectations. No strings attached. The arrangement ran its course, and now it’s over.”
He stared at me for several seconds without speaking. A myriad of emotions played across his face before his features settled into the one sentiment I was dreading.
“Bullshit.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, feigning ignorance.
“I know you, Rafe, and I can read you like a book. You’re not happy about this—whatever it is that’s pulling you apart from Jessa—but you’re refusing to do anything about it. Why?”
“It’s not a big deal,” I murmured, refusing to meet his gaze.
“Liar!” he shouted, startling me. “You’re terrible at it, so don’t try. Especially with me.”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Nate,” I sighed, hoping that would be enough to make him shut the hell up about it.
“Okay,” he said, but before I could take a second to feel relief, he continued on. “Don’t talk. Let me see if I can guess.”
I groaned with frustration, laying my head back against the couch to stare at the ceiling. There was no stopping Nate when he got like this, so I held my tongue and let him speak.
“You say you had an arrangement with her—you two would have a little fun, nothing serious, then be on your separate ways, right?” I grunted in the affirmative, so he went on. “My guess is that you started to develop actual feelings for her, and it scared you.”
I didn’t respond, but my breath hitched before I could stop it. I closed my eyes and swallowed before resuming my stare-down with the ceiling.
“That’s what I thought,” he said, his voice pensive. “You like her more than you’re willing to admit, so you backed off, denying yourself what you really want because you feel some misguided need to be one hundred percent selfless in every aspect of your life.”
“Misguided?” I asked, finally looking at him.
I didn’t want to think about how accurate his words were. Was he a mind reader? Or was I just that transparent? Ivy had seen right through me, too.
“Yes. Misguided,” Nate said. “You’re not raising me and Lola anymore, Rafe. We have our own lives, and you should, too.”
“I love my life,” I argued, but he raised a hand to cut me off.
“You’re still punishing yourself for what happened to Mamá,” he said, his low voice filled with sadness. “It wasn’t your fault, and she wouldn’t want you to spend the rest of your life trying to make up for it. She would want you to be happy and fulfilled, Rafe. She would want you to find love. Think about it.”
Before I could respond, Nate pushed himself up from the couch and walked to the front door. He gave me one last meaningful look before walking out, closing the door gently behind him. I stared at it for several moments before standing and walking into my bedroom.
I opened my sock drawer and pushed my hand inside, reaching toward the back until my fingers closed around the small wooden box I’d tucked there. Pulling it free, I sat down on my bed and looked at it, my eyes burning with sadness and regret. Just as they always did when I revisited this particular memory.
Flipping up the lid, I pulled the small velvet bag from inside and emptied it into my palm. Mamá’s engagement ring sparkled in the sun streaming through the window as I pinched the silver band between my fingers and held it up.
Tears dripped onto my cheeks as my mind r
eturned to the moment she gave it to me. She’d asked me to give it to my girlfriend—a girl I’d dated in high school for about two seconds—just before she died. Or maybe she’d meant for me to give it to some future girl, and I’d misunderstood. That made more sense. She knew she wasn’t going to make it, and her only thought had been of me and my happiness.
Nate was right. She wouldn’t want me punishing myself for the accident that took her—and eventually, our father—from us. But knowing that didn’t erase my guilt. It didn’t make me regret the way I’d lived my life up until this point. Helping others had brought me great joy over the last ten years.
I just wasn’t sure if it was enough anymore.
My phone began to ring, and I pulled it from my pocket after dropping the ring back into its bag and cinching it tight. I recognized the number on the screen and quickly tapped the accept icon. It was the hospital.
“This is Dr. Walton,” I said as I held the device to my ear.
“Rafe, it’s Ivy. She asked me not to call you, but I thought you should know. Jessa is here.”
“What?” I shouted, leaping to my feet. “What happened? Is she okay?”
“Yes, she’s fine,” she said quickly. “It’s Greg. His fever spiked, and he’s having difficulty breathing.”
“I’ll be right there,” I said, hanging up before she could respond.
Leaving the wooden box on my bed, I ran into my closet to grab a clean set of scrubs. I changed and raced out the door, my heart pounding as I cranked the car and squealed out of my driveway.
I needed to get to the emergency room as soon as possible. If Greg…
If anything happened to him while I wasn’t paying attention, I’d never forgive myself.
30
Jessa
No one would talk to me. After a brief reassurance from Ivy that they would take good care of him—and that she wouldn’t call Rafe—a nurse had led me to a sterile waiting room and asked me to stay there. I’d stood at the door, intercepting every hospital employee that passed to ask for news, but no one knew anything.