Can't Let Go

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Can't Let Go Page 4

by Chrissy Brown


  I sigh, unsure of how to explain. “No man. She’s more than that. I can’t explain it, but she is.”

  Chapter 9

  Mallory

  I’m having more fun than I thought possible. Between the alcohol, the dancing, and the eye candy hanging on me, I couldn’t be happier. But I can already tell being just friends is going to be difficult. Beau oozes sex and probably pisses confidence. I bite my lip and sneak a glance at him as I’m coming back from the bathroom.

  He has this sexy, flirtatious, frustrated look about him. Only this time it’s not aimed at me. It’s at his phone. All giddiness that I feel disappears. The lively butterflies that danced in my stomach die and fall into a pit of darkness.

  Deja vu washes over me accompanied by the sickening feeling of not being good enough. I wasn’t good enough for my dad, he walked out on me when I was four. I wasn’t good enough for Tristan, which is why he cheated on me with my “best friend” for the last six months. And now, I’m not good enough for Beau because there’s obviously someone else. There’s always someone else.

  How could I be so stupid?

  I was foolish to think a man that good looking wouldn’t have a girlfriend. I mean, why else would Beau have avoided kissing me…twice. I need a drink. My mother’s voice echoes in my head.

  “Classic Mallory,” my mother would say. “Drown your problems instead of facing them.”

  She’s a bitch, but she’s right.

  I look at Beau again. He’s still engrossed in his conversation. The corner of his mouth tips up, his head moving side to side as he writes. There’s a pain in my side from watching him.

  I want his brandy eyes to look at me again. I want his warm, strong arms to wrap around me, to pull me tight against his body. But what I want is irrelevant. That is probably his girlfriend he’s texting. I’m not gonna be that girl, the one who sleeps with men in relationships. My “best friend” back home was that girl. There’s only one thing for me to do to save myself from heartache.

  Leave.

  I have to leave right now.

  Chapter 10

  Beau

  “I seriously could be getting some ass right now,” Kevin growls as he peers through an open doorway.

  He’s pissed and I don’t blame him. I would be too if our roles were reversed. The blond he was making out with looked ready to eat his face. But Kevin’s a good friend. He left her to be with me because, let’s face it, bros before hoes.

  We search every inch of the house, looking in every closet and every dark corner, but Mallory’s not in any of them. Panic begins to take over because I know first-hand that at least half of the dudes here are sketchy. What if one of them took her?

  Stop it. Quit thinking like that. She’s fine.

  I’m losing my shit. My chest is so tight it feels like I’m breathing through a straw. I back against a wall and try to steady my breathing so I don’t pass out.

  Kevin eyes me, a concerned look on his face. “You look like hell.”

  “I’m fine,” I deadpan.

  “No, you’re not. You’re all sweaty and shaking. Did you take something tonight?”

  “No, I’m just… Mallory could be passed out somewhere being raped or something, and I can’t find her.”

  “That’s cryptic.”

  I bite my tongue and glare at him. He doesn’t get it. Hell, I don’t get it but I need to find her.

  “Relax.” Kevin puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “I’m sure she’s fine. Come on, let’s keep looking.”

  We split up, Kevin going in one direction down the road towards the church and me in the other down by the houses. I look in every car window on both sides of the street, check all the doorways and side walls. I’m glad no one sees me, or they might think I’m casing the neighborhood. I run my fingers through my hair and pull at the root until it hurts.

  Where is she?

  I pull my phone from my back pocket.

  Me: Find her?

  Kevin: Nope

  Kevin: Maybe she left with Shannon

  Me: No. Shannon left a while ago

  Kevin: I don’t know dude, but I’m going back to the party

  I put my phone in my pocket and kick the ground. Dust from the dirt road makes a cloud in the air and the white powder covers the toe of my boot.

  How could I have lost her?

  One minute she’s standing next to me having a good time and the next she’s gone.

  I walk two more blocks, looking in every dark space I can find. Nothing. Doubling back, I continue searching in the other direction. After an hour of walking up and down the neighboring streets, I’m ready to give up.

  Then I hear something. The sound is so quiet that had I not been trying so hard to listen to everything around me I would have missed it. There in the darkness off to my left is the quick, staggering sound of someone crying.

  I climb over the four foot tall chain-link fence beside me and follow the whimpering sound to the backyard of a rundown house. The windows are boarded up and the grass reaches my ankles. But hidden deep in the shadows at the base of a large oak tree is the curled up figure of someone. I approach slowly, careful not to startle her.

  Mallory’s wrapped her arms around her legs. Her head is against her knees and her long brown hair shields her face from the world. I stop about a foot in front of her and stare. Shannon was right; this girl is broken in the worst of ways, but all I want to do is be there for her.

  Mallory looks up at me. The whites of her big blue eyes are bloodshot and her lashes are brimmed with unshed tears. My heart breaks for her.

  Through labored breaths she says, “How did you find me.”

  I hold my hand out, ignoring her question. Mallory’s head tilts to the side. She tucks her hair behind her ears and wipes her eyes with the back of one hand. Both arms wrap around her knees again, ignoring my outstretched hand. She probably expects me to leave, but I can’t. The need to save her, to keep her safe consumes me.

  Sliding down the trunk of the tree, I sit beside her. Without warning, Mallory’s body molds against mine. Her arms wrap around my waist. I hold her, pressing her so close that I can feel her racing heart against my chest. Cold tears drip down her cheeks and onto my shirt collar. She grips me tighter, crying harder.

  “Did someone hurt you?”

  Mallory takes her time answering. Through a staggered breath, she says, “No.”

  I let out an exaggerated sigh, both relieved and confused.

  “Well,” I say, not sure what could have made her upset, “are you okay?”

  She looks up at me, her eyes full of sorrow, and nods. I chew on my lip, carefully choosing my words. “Shannon’s bailed on you.”

  Mallory lets out a breathy laugh. “Of course she did. She didn’t by chance give you the keys, did she?”

  I shake my head.

  Mallory must feel my movement because she says, “Perfect.”

  “Come home with me,” I say, without thinking.

  Her muscles tense. “What about your girlfriend?”

  I lean back. Placing my knuckle under her chin, I raise her face, forcing her to look at me. “What girlfriend?”

  “You were on your phone…I thought…never mind.”

  Is that why she ran away?

  “I haven’t had a girlfriend in years.”

  Mallory’s lips curl up into a small smile. Her eyes twinkle, perhaps with a glimmer of hope. She sniffles. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

  I chuckle, my arms holding her tighter. “Who said anything about sex? You need a place to crash and I happen to have one.”

  She groans. “Don’t pity me.”

  “Mallory, I’m not. I promise. I like being around you. I’m hoping with a little more time together, you might like being around me too.”

  Mallory looks up at me. Her eyes are bloodshot and puffy, her cheeks are tear stained, but she’s still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.

  Mallory inhales deeply and exhales loudl
y. Her eyes search my face. When they find what she’s looking for, she whispers, “Okay.”

  “Yeah?” I sound too excited.

  “Yeah,” she says, through a laugh.

  I stand first then extend my hand out to her again. Mallory’s fingers intertwine with mine, letting me pull her to her feet. She looks up at me. I take a risk and brush my finger against her cold cheek, pushing a rogue strand of hair behind her ear. Her breath catches.

  Clearing my throat, I take a step to the side. Walking towards the front of the house I ask, “How did you get back here anyway?”

  “I hopped the fence,” she says, like it’s no big deal.

  A small chuckle escapes me. Beautiful, broken, and daring. Where has she been all my life?

  Chapter 11

  Beau

  As I shift my truck into park, Mallory moans. Her eyes flutter open one at a time. Half asleep, she sits up. Opening the door, she stumbles out of the passenger side. Her balance wanes as she sways from side to side while climbing the steps to my garage-apartment. Fearful she might fall, I hurry up behind her. Placing one arm on her back and the other under her legs, I sweep her off her feet…literally.

  Carrying Mallory up the rest of the steps, I make great effort not to trip or let her slip from my arms. She’s not the least bit heavy, but the thought of dropping her and causing her any more harm terrifies me.

  I manage to unlock the door and get Mallory inside without dropping her or banging her head against the door frame. Letting out a sigh of relief, I look down.

  She’s so small in my arms.

  Carrying Mallory into my room, I squat and pull back the top sheet on my bed with the hand under her legs. I lay her down and slip my arm out from underneath her head. Allowing my fingers to run along her soft skin, I brush a strand of hair that’s fallen upon her cheek.

  Mallory rolls over, her sleepy eyes opening halfway. Beautiful plump lips curl into a smile. She reaches a hand up and takes hold of the back of my neck. Slowly, I touch her wrist, careful not to startle her again.

  Mallory pushes herself up onto her forearm. She hugs me, catching me completely off guard. But then her hand moves from my neck to my shoulder and down my chest until the warmth of her touch spreads across my stomach. I swallow, feeling my pulse everywhere.

  Mallory tilts her head up and presses her lips against mine. The kiss is quick and rough, but her tongue exploring my mouth feels amazing. I thread my fingers through her hair. She moans, momentarily deepening the kiss before pulling away.

  Mallory lies back down, a sleepy smile on her face. The soft sound of her snores return. I pull my sheet up to her shoulders and head to the door. The idea of staying and cuddling all night crosses my mind, but I don’t want to betray her trust. I step out, closing the door behind me.

  ***

  Red rays from the rising sun begin to peek through the blinds. Lying flat on my back, I’m wide awake. I have been for a while. I tossed and turned all night, unable to fall asleep. This couch was not made for a six-foot man. I don’t know how Kevin does it every weekend.

  Mallory’s kiss has been playing on a loop in my head all morning.

  Will she remember kissing me when she wakes up or was she too out of it?

  I sit up, the muscles in my back aching. Tiptoeing down the hallway, I crack the bedroom door open and peer in. Mallory’s still sleeping, curled up in the fetal position. I close the door and head to the bathroom for a quick, cold shower.

  Grabbing clean boxers and a pair of shorts from the laundry room, I head to the kitchen to start some coffee, fully intending to get dressed once it begins to brew.

  I turn at the sound of my bedroom door squeaking open. Mallory eases into the kitchen. She leans against the counter wearing her spaghetti strap shirt and a pair of my gym shorts. She crosses her arms, hiding her braless chest. I can’t help but stare at her, wide-eyed, and take her in.

  Mallory catches me checking her out, and her cheeks flush. She bites her bottom lip. Her eyes find a spot on the floor and she fingers her hair behind her ear.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I went through your dresser last night and stole these.”

  I shake my head, a goofy grin on my face. Mallory’s arms drop to her sides.

  “Uh.” My brain isn’t working. “Coffee?”

  “Maybe in a minute.” She says, walking back to my room.

  Splashing water on my face, I’m grateful for a moment to get myself under control. I’m acting like a fourteen-year-old boy who’s never seen boobs before.

  I can do this. She’s just a girl.

  “So, I’m thinking of going for a drive this morning. Want to come?”

  Mallory steps out of my room again wearing last night’s blue jeans and one of my T-shirts. I clear my throat and try to keep my eyes focused on her face.

  She grabs a mug from the dish rack. As she fills it with coffee she says, “Sure.”

  ***

  The radio’s playing, warding away any lingering awkwardness as we ride in near silence in my truck. My stomach is in knots. Every so often I catch Mallory looking at me from the corner of her eye, a shy smile on her face, but she quickly looks away.

  When the light turns red, I lift the armrest, eliminating the barrier between us. Mallory looks at me, the corners of her mouth turning up, as she slides into the newly-created middle seat. I loop one arm around her waist and lace her fingers with mine.

  “So, you’re a bull rider?” Mallory asks, breaking the silence.

  “I was, but I quit when I accepted a spot on Georgia University’s football team a few years ago.”

  “If you’re not a bull rider, then why did you use that line on me?”

  I chuckle. “Because if I wanted to ride a bull again, I could. Besides, that line’s never let me down before.”

  “It didn’t work the other night. I guess it’s not a sure thing anymore,” she snickers.

  I shake my head. “Guess not.” I pause, unsure how to ask my next question without offending her. “Um…I was wondering, who are you staying with?”

  “My Aunt, but she lives about forty-five minutes from here. She arranged this crazy blind-friend-date with Shannon.”

  “Why’d she do that?”

  “Eh, it’s a long story. The short version is I was spending too much time…inside. Anyway, Friday I stayed at Shannon’s house and last night with you.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Do you still play football?”

  I groan. “No, and it’s a sore subject around town.”

  “Why?”

  “Some would say I used to be a big deal. If I stuck with it, I probably could have been drafted but football was never my end game. I quit playing and dropped out of Georgia University last semester.”

  “What are you going to do now?”

  “My granddad has a ranch. He’s getting old and needs help. My mom’s a nurse, so she can’t help with it, and my brother’s in medical school. That leaves me. If all goes well, one day I’ll run it with my own kids.”

  Mallory looks up at me all doe-eyed with grin the size of Texas on her face. She’s not looking down on me or judging me for my decision and I like her that much more because she gets it.

  Feeling energized and confident, I ask, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

  Mallory raises an eyebrow. “Tomorrow is Monday.”

  I bite back a chuckle. “Yeah, so?”

  “So, I work tomorrow.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Goosebumps prick my skin accompanied with an overwhelming amount of emotions. What if this is the last time we see each other? “What do you do?”

  Without skipping a beat, she says, “I’m helping out with my Aunt’s charity. We have a fundraiser this week that I’ve been helping to plan. It’s Thursday night.”

  “Cool.” I hesitate, my heart racing in my chest. “Can I see you again?”

  “I… I don’t know. To be honest, I’m kind of mad at Shannon for bailing on me. I mean, I’m grateful you’re
a true gentleman and all. But last night could have been a disaster!”

  I nod. Damn straight I’m a gentleman!

  “That was pretty messed up of her to ditch you like that.”

  “Yeah, it was. Like, you could have raped me.”

  “Hey now,” I let go of Mallory’s hand and lean closer to the door, forcing her to sit up. “I’d never to that to you or any other woman.”

  Chapter 12

  Mallory

  Beau’s muscles tense. I reach out and touch his bicep, but he shrugs my hand off with a grunt. His usually bright whiskey-colored eyes narrow on the road and you could cut the tension in the truck with a knife.

  “Good to know,” I say, through a breathy laugh.

  Did I make him mad? Of course I made him mad. I just accused him of being a rapist!

  We need to talk about something else, anything else. “Where we going? Are you taking me out to the middle of woods to kill me?”

  I’m joking, but the afterthought that I don’t know him creeps in. I grip my phone in my lap, just in case. Then it dawns on me, I’ve just called him a rapist and a murderer.

  “No, not today,” Beau says. His jaw relaxes and a sly smile creeps across his face.

  Beau puts his hand on my leg, palm up, inviting my fingers to lace with his. I oblige. Maybe I’m not screwing this up.

  “Listen, I know you’re mad at Shannon, and I don’t blame you,” he pauses, “but I’d like to see you again. Like soon. I mean… I know I’m seeing you now, but after now. I…I just…I don’t know.”

  I giggle, amused by his nervousness. “I appreciate what you did for me last night, but where would I stay?” I pause, pondering my options. “Maybe I could drive over for a few hours and drive home later that night.”

  His eyes flick over to me briefly before going back to the road. “I need more than a few hours with you.” He pauses, chewing on his cheek. “Why don’t you stay with me?”

  Did he just ask that?

  I can’t.

  I won’t.

  Last night was a fluke, a one-time thing. I don’t think I can keep my hands off Beau if I wake up in his bed again, the smell of him surrounding me and taking over my every thought. It was hard enough not to jump his bones this morning! Beau looked so hot in the kitchen, his shirtless body still glistening from a shower as he made coffee. A shiver trails down my spine just thinking about it. No, staying at his house again will complicate this friendship thing.

 

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