I want to scream, to cry. I want to run away.
But instead, I do what I’ve been doing for the last several weeks.
I push it away, bury it with a smile, and when he lifts from his seat, offering me his hand, I shake it, pacing myself as I walk out the door, wishing I never walked through it.
As promised, my mom is waiting just outside the building, and as I slip inside the front seat, saying not a word, my mother reads it on my face.
Her tears are as instant as mine, and when I turn away, she faces forward.
I zone out, and the next thing I know, we’re pulling up to the beach house, my dad’s truck parked behind Chase’s in the driveway.
When I don’t get out, my mom asks, “Want to come back to our condo?”
Shaking my head, I bite at the inside of my cheek and jump out.
I head inside, my movements jerky, eyes watery, and cheeks red.
Everyone’s sitting in the living room watching TV, but the moment they set eyes on me, it’s paused.
My dad’s eyes fly to my mom, and Mason frowns, leaning forward.
Chase stands, starts toward me, but I throw my hands up, toss my purse to the floor and keep walking.
I need… I need…
What the fuck do you need, Ari? Goddamn it!
I’m out the back door and running for the beach in seconds.
The wind whips my face, burning my skin, but I don’t care. I keep running.
About a half mile down the beach, my throat swells, my tears choking me, and I growl, swiping them away with angry movements.
I jerk to a stop and something has me spinning around, looking forward, and that’s when I see him.
Noah.
My shoulders fall, and as if I spoke his name aloud, he turns, spotting me in an instant.
He frowns, grips the edge of the dock his legs are dangling over, but he doesn’t move when something tells me he wants to.
Before I realize it, I’m four feet from him, and he’s looking up at me.
“I don’t feel like talking right now.” I’m not sure why I say it when I’m the one who walked over, but that’s what comes out.
Noah nods, his brows nearly touching in the middle. “Talking’s overrated.”
A chuckle slips from me, and I sniffle, catching the small twitch of his lips.
Folding my toes in my shoes, I hold a hand out. “We could… not talk together?”
His tongue comes out, running across his lips, and a heaviness settles over me as I wait for his response, but I’m not sure why, because when he nods again, it’s as if I knew what his answer would be before he made it.
Something tells me I did.
Noah
* * *
Ari stares down at me, a small smile on her lips, her hand outstretched and eyes red-rimmed. I knew the second I saw her, she was upset, that she’d been crying, but I also knew she wasn’t in the mood to share. She needs time to herself to process her thoughts, just like me.
So, I take her extended hand.
The moment my palm touches hers, it’s as if a needle pricks our skin, and she jolts from the small shock.
A laugh slips from her, and I can’t help but grin as I leap to my feet.
Once standing, I turn, so my body is facing the same direction as hers, and this time, offer her my hand. It’s with a coy smile that she grabs hold.
Her head tips back the slightest bit, so she can see me fully, and slowly, very slowly, a softness falls over her. Her eyes roam along my face, her fingers twitching in mine, and before she realizes, before she grows anxious and pulls away in confusion, as she’s done every other time she allows herself to be close to me, I nod.
“Let’s get to that ‘not talking’ then, huh?”
Ari smiles and leads us down the long dock, but instead of walking to the end, where the wood meets the sand, she turns us halfway.
We leap over the side, the ground not three feet from us.
The second we touch the sand, she looks to me and the glimmer in her brown eyes has my muscles flexing.
I quickly let her go, burying my hand in my hoodie pocket, and she does the same.
With nothing but the sound of the ocean around us, she leads us farther down the coastline, to a boat ramp about a mile away.
She bends and begins untying a two-person paddle boat.
“Should I be on the lookout?”
Over her shoulder, she throws me a smile, and I want to drop to my knees beside her.
“It’s Lolli’s, she won’t mind.”
I nod, jerking closer when she starts to climb in, but she doesn’t need my help.
She’s done this a million times.
I hop in beside her, and off we go, paddling out into open ocean but sticking close to the land.
It’s not for a good hour, and after our second time passing her beach house that she stops peddling and lets her butt fall to the floorboard, her legs thrown over the top, head tipped back on the seat.
She stares at the cloudy sky, and I join her.
“You ever wish you could go to a new place and take on a whole other life? Like tell everyone your name is John and you’re a carpenter with no family and moved on a whim?”
“No.”
Her head snaps my way at my quick, flat response to her wishful notion.
“I’d tell everyone my name is McLovin.”
She laughs, her body shaking, and when she looks back to the sky, it’s with a sigh. “I love that movie.”
I know.
A somberness falls over her and I wait.
It takes a minute, but then she closes her eyes, and when they open back up, they focus on the yellow nail polish she’s now chipping from her thumb.
“I had a doctor’s appointment today, you know, to check on me after the accident.”
I knew this. It’s why I came out here in the first place, to the one place I could feel like I was close to her, even when I wasn’t.
I should have been there with her, sitting in the waiting room, so I could take her hand and hold her when she came out, celebrating the good or comforting through the bad.
A knot forms in the pit of my stomach.
“They, um, they think I’m blocking the memories, they said sometimes people who are… severely depressed do that.” Tears build in her eyes, and she shakes her head. “How am I supposed to know if that’s the problem when I can’t remember if I was depressed in the first place?”
I fight not to let out the shuddered breath lodged in my chest, the pain in her tone too fucking much. Her silent cries shake her body, and she looks away embarrassed.
She’s breaking beside me and I can’t take it. Can’t do this.
She wants to learn things on her own, but she needs something to hold on to. She needs to know she was okay. That she’ll be okay.
My knuckle finds its place beneath her chin, and when my thumb falls to the space between there and her bottom lip, her lips part with a low gasp and her eyes fly to mine before I’ve even turned her face my way.
There’s a plea within them, but goddamn it, my baby has no idea what she’s asking for.
It’s subconscious, her heart and mind knowing I’m right here, dying to take away her pain, to comfort and support her through anything. Always.
Forever.
Her chest inflates, and my lips curve into a small, gentle smile.
“You were hurt, and it felt like the worst thing you could imagine.” Her lip quivers, but she doesn’t dare look away. “You cried a lot, hid away, and pretended things weren’t as bad as they were, but slowly…” I swallow. “Very slowly, the light slid back into your eyes.”
Her blinks grow slow, her tears slipping and rolling down to meet my skin. “Why do I get the feeling you helped with it?” she whispers.
I force my hand to fall and will my eyes to follow.
“Did you help with that?” She tries again.
I know she wants to remember on her own, but I already messed
that up by sharing what I did. Now she’s asking for more.
For a tiny piece.
I promised I’d never deny her, so I won’t.
I clear my throat and answer the best way I know how.
“I hope so.”
Her smile is unhurried, and she faces the open waters, murmuring, “I think you did.”
I think I’m losing you…
Chapter 46
Arianna
* * *
White twinkling lights hang from the wall, sheer blue curtain woven around them to create a dreamy, winter wonderland type atmosphere. Large pillars span the corners of the walls and at the front, raised on a small stage is a table full of trophies and plaques.
The guys are dressed in sharp suits and the girls in glowing gowns, all but the coaching staff, who opted for their sideline attire.
The music is soft and the food a sampler-style cultural mix.
After the staff has the tables cleared from dinner, champagne flutes are passed around to those with wristbands, sparkling cider for the rest of us. The head coach takes the stage, taps on the mic and begins to welcome everyone to the ninetieth annual winter gala.
“It’s not uncommon to have a good team and a decent season. I’ve been here for twenty-two years and there hasn’t been a single year I couldn’t claim the same, but there is a difference in good and gold, and this year, boys, the Avix U Sharks football team was fucking gold.”
The room erupts with hoots and hollers, Brady’s loud bark heard above each and every one.
The man goes on about his team, giving praise to them as a unit, sharing some of their trials with those of us who were none the wiser, and then he pauses. The man grabs the edge of the small podium he stands in front of and nods his head, a smile forming on his lips.
“You know, as a coach, there’s only so much I can do and I do it as best as I possibly can, but I know many of my boys cuss me out in their heads on a daily basis. A coach is only a coach.” He nods. “The true hero of this season’s success lies in the heart of the captain.”
People whistle and my stomach swirls. I subconsciously lean forward.
“Now, unfortunately, Noah Riley isn’t here tonight, but if he were, I’d take my hat off to the man. He took a team, built on a third of rookies, and led us to the playoffs in a year we were expected to be at the bottom of our division. He pulled many of you under his wing, and you all might not know this, ‘cause he surely never said a word, but that young man shifted his entire schedule around to be there to train and mentor every one of you who asked. He made us a family.”
The backs of my eyes sting.
“For that reason, he’s, without a doubt, and unanimous in votes from all thirty-nine of you on this roster, this year’s MVP. I’d like to invite Trey Donavon to the stage to accept this award on Noah’s behalf.”
The room erupts with cheers, and Cameron, his date for the night, screams from her seat beside me.
Trey pushes his sleeves a little higher, and a few guys give catcalls, making him smirk in response.
“Hey now, I got a girl, and she’s the jealous type,” he teases, and I playfully swat at Cameron.
He clears his throat, lifts the small trophy and looks it over. “Noah’s been my best friend for three years now, and I know I’ll be able to say the same thing thirty years from now.”
“Hey,” Chase whispers, and I reluctantly glance his way. “Wanna go get a drink? My buddy’s manning the bar.”
I shake my head, facing the stage once more as Trey continues.
“There ain’t a man out there more hard working and deserving of all the good the world has to offer more than him. I, uh, I know Coach asked me to accept this award, but there’s someone else here I’d like to invite up to do it instead.” Trey looks to Cameron behind me, and a frown builds along my face as he tears the mic from its holder and leaps off the stage, headed right for her. But then he says, “Arianna Johnson,” into the mic, and my spine straightens. Trey smiles. “My butterfly’s bestie, you might be thinking I’m crazy right now, and I sort of am, so that’s fine.” He’s in front of me now, and I look to Cameron when he drops to his knee with a wink. “Accept this award for our boy, Noah?”
“Uh…” My mouth opens, but all that comes out is a nervous chuckle, knowing all eyes are on me.
“Come on, please?” He gives me big puppy dog eyes.
I lift my hands, shrugging. “Sure.” I laugh, taking it from him.
The room cheers, and he laughs as he heads back to the stage, tossing the mic up at his coach.
The coach gives out a few other awards, Brady being the only freshman to receive one, and then the lights dim, the music growing a little louder.
Chase turns to me, extends a hand, and nods toward the dance floor.
“No one is dancing yet.”
“So.” His smile is bright. “I want to dance with you, and I don’t want to wait.”
Warmth spreads through me, and I push to my feet. Chase’s grin widens as he takes my hand, leading me to the center of the floor.
He spins me, making me laugh, and a blush rushes to my cheeks as I peek around to find several sets of eyes on us, some not as friendly as I’d have hoped. My muscles tense a bit, and Chase shakes his head.
He leans in, pressing his cheek to my face as he whispers, “Ignore them.” He pulls back, his palm gliding around my body, his right hand clasped with mine, but drawn in at our sides. His soft green eyes hold mine as his lips part, and he presses them against my knuckles. “You’re beautiful, Arianna. So beautiful.” His tone drops even lower and my chest clenches from the sound.
A few others join us on the dance floor, but I don’t pay them any mind.
I stay focused on the man before me.
“I used to dream of things like this,” I admit. “Dancing with you, holding on to you…”
His forehead falls to mine, and my eyes close.
“It’s all I’ve been thinking about,” he confesses. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever get the chance. I was a fool before, but no more. I’d choose you over anyone, Ari. No matter what. I’d choose you.”
My stomach dips, and I bury my face in his neck, inhaling his scent.
It’s sweet and peppery, subtle.
Where’s the cedar wood and sage, the minty breeze?
My lids open, a frown building along my brow, but then Chase’s hand leaves mine, and his soft palm falls against my cheek.
Where’s the rough texture, the heated skin?
I pull back slightly, and his eyes lock with mine.
“Ari,” he whispers, slipping closer, and my chest seizes.
But I can’t tell if it’s in anticipation or apprehension.
It’s confusing, and it aches, but maybe it aches for him?
For us.
For more.
So when his eyes fall to my lips, I lift my chin in invitation.
Chase’s mouth falls to mine, and my eyes close.
My heartbeat pounds hard against my rib cage, and he presses closer, his hand diving into my hair.
That’s when a sob breaks through me and I tug back, but before I’m forced to look at him, before he can say a word, my brother is there.
Mason slips between us, pulls me into his arms, and buries my head against his chest. He shields my face from the rest of the dance floor. I clutch his suit jacket, and he sways us slowly.
“It’s okay, honey,” he rasps, kissing my head. “It’s okay.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know why I’m crying.” I shudder, and his arms tighten. “I think it’s just overwhelming, you know? I’ve waited so long.”
Mason’s sigh rolls over me. “Yeah, I know.”
The pained frustration in his tone has me lifting my head. I swipe at my eyes and meet his.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Mason, what?” I beg. “What is it?”
His chin falls, and he shakes his head. “It’s really
hard to stand back and let you lead. It scares me, that’s all.”
“That’s not all and you know it.” We stop moving. “Does it bother you to see me with him?”
“Not the way you’re used to.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“I know, but you won’t let me tell you what it does mean.” He reaches up, swiping at the edge of my eye and showing me the small black streak on the pad of his thumb. “It’s okay. Just promise me you’ll… move slow. Think things through before… anything.”
Pink darkens my cheeks, and I nod, a low chuckle leaving me. “I should probably go find my date, so he doesn’t think I’m crazy.”
“He knows better than that.” Mason’s lips pull to one side, and he releases me. “Go.”
With a deep breath, I nod, spinning on my heels.
To my surprise, Chase isn’t far, and he isn’t fazed. He waits for me, not fifteen feet away, champagne flutes in hand.
Biting at my lip, I step up to him, accepting the glass when he offers it. He quietly takes my hand, leading me to our table.
“Thank you for coming with me tonight.” He brushes his palm along my arm. “This shouldn’t have been our first dance. I should have taken you to the homecoming dance freshman year, and to every other one after that. I should have shown you how important you were to me a long time ago, and I want to make up for that,” he rasps, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. “Let me take you out this weekend. Just us.”
“Are you asking me on a date, Chase Harper?”
A hint of bashfulness washes over him, and he nods. “Yeah, I am. So what do you say? Go out with me?”
My stomach swirls, and I nod, earning a victorious smile from Chase. We face forward after that, sitting comfortably as we listen to the music play.
As I look around at all the smiling faces, our friends only feet away, one spreads across my own.
And for the first time in a long time, a small sense of hope sparks within me.
This feels right.
So why does it take effort to hold my head up?
Later that night, once we get home and settled in, I search for Noah to show him the award he won, but he’s nowhere to be found, so I set his trophy on my dresser and slip out of my dress for a quick shower.
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