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Yes, it’s in a nice neighborhood, one that has a rotating security guard at a gate that’s shut until you’re approved to enter, on the clock twenty-four/seven, but ours is honestly the smallest in the vicinity. Austin glances around, taking everything in, and says how it isn’t what he was expecting.
“Which was?” Dad wants to know, clearly testing him.
Austin smirks. Oh boy. “A red carpet to walk on as I came to the front, golden handles, cameras flashing as soon as you stepped outside.”
Dad laughs, tilting his head back in honest amusement at Austin’s response. “I hate when your mom is right, sweetie,” he says to me, a chuckle still in his voice.
Austin is sending me a questioning glance as dad moves toward the kitchen, leaving us alone, so I inform him, “My mom told me you were a keeper.”
My feet instinctively have me retreating until my back hits a wall as he steps toward me, our breaths merging because of how closely we now stand. Austin leans down, and I hear him inhale, like he’s taking in my scent. “You spoke to your mom about me, little one?”
“That’s what you focus in on?”
“It’s the important part. Itmeanssomething.” Okay, I can see that.
“Did you, um, talk to yours about me?” I ask, hoping that doesn’t sound pathetic or needy.
He closes his eyes, and when he opens them, sadness seems to coat his usually beautiful amber irises. “I would if I could, Willa. I lost her almost a decade ago.”
I hug him, unable to do nothing as remembered grief has him shuddering. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” We’ve spent a lot of time together, yet he’s been surprisingly tight-lipped about his family. Now I know why. “You were so young when she passed.”
A gulp reaches my ears, emotion probably clogging his throat, and I hate that I’ve ruined the moment by bringing up such a painful experience. “She would’ve loved you; you know?” He whispers, nose brushing my hair away to ensure I hear what he says next. “I know I do.”
“Dinner is ready,” Mom hollers just then and I want to cry. Are her and Dad doing this on purpose? First, Dad with stopping Austin from what he was going to say when he arrived, now Mom not giving me a chance to reply after Austin’s earth-shattering declaration.
Austin drops a kiss on my cheek, promises that we’ll continue this later, and puts his arm around my shoulder as we walk to join my parents. How the hell am I supposed to eat with all the butterflies currently treating my stomach like their own personal playground?
I have no clue what is going on here, but I am more than willing to follow his lead if it’s where I hope it is.
Chapter Five
Austin
May 3rd…
Dinner with Willa’s parents was actually fun. Her dad is unaware who I actually am – Anders only telling him there’d be a third person without explaining in what capacity – which was nice as it meant neither he nor I had to play a role. We were exactly what we seemed to be, a dad getting to know his daughter’s friend, and learning at the same time she did, that he wanted to be more.
Perhaps I should’ve shared that with Willa first, and at a different time, but after speaking with Anders, learning that the stalker, as we’re labeling him, appears to be escalating, I couldn’t maintain the sliver of distance I’d been able to put between us. Or maybe I just used it as an excuse to do what I’d wanted to all along.
Every day was torture. Spending time with her was both painful and a balm to my soul. Being with her and not able to touch her as I want makes me ache, and not just my dick, though there is that, too, but in my heart. She owns it and doesn’t know it. May never know it. And that’s what hurts.
I want to tell her the truth, and I almost did. The only thing stopping me is that when she finds out, she may kick me out of her life, rendering me unable to protect her. I can’t take that chance, even knowing that the longer I continue this ruse, the likelier I am to lose her forever.
What are the odds she’ll understand my position and forgive me for the deception? She’s more mature than her nineteen years suggests, but this is a doozy and she has every right to not speak to me again if that’s what she chooses. I’ll hate it, and plead for her to give me an opportunity to show her what I feel is real, but that doesn’t mean she has to grant it nor that I deserve it.
I wanted to hang out, talk to Willa about taking our friendship to a different level, but I didn’t want to overwhelm her. And I could tell that my words had already done that, so I decided to give her space, asking her to think about what I said.
After school, I plan on coming right out and saying that she’s mine and I’m hers. Hopefully, we’ll weather what’s going on and what may come together, and if now is all I ever get with her, I’ll count my blessings and live the rest of my days mourning what could have been.
———
As Willa is returning some books to her locker and removing others, I turn my comm unit off, not wanting to be overheard. Not that I can hide it from Torren and Clover as they’ll see us leave and follow us to our destination. “Let’s skip last period,” it’s a study hall for some stupid reason that most never actually attend, “and hit the diner for a meal. My treat.”
She watches me, her tongue swiping across her bottom lip as she thinks it over. Thankfully, she doesn’t keep me waiting long, her answer coming a few seconds later. “Yes, I’d like that.” She hesitates, as if carefully choosing her words, and asks, “And does this constitute the later you promised at my house?”
I take a step forward, then lean down so we’re eye to eye, and vow, “Whether you’re ready for it or not.”
“And if I am?”
