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“Shane, I know you thought this would be a benign encounter. I know in your mind, you thought we could just move forward, but I just can’t deal with this. I have too much weighing on my heart when it comes to you. You took a piece of me when you left Saddle Ridge. It was not just a piece of my heart, but you took a piece of my soul. You have no idea the mess you left me with when you walked away, even though it was the best gift I was ever granted.”
She grabs her things and stands up, walking fast toward the exit. I quickly gather my belongings, grab the box of lemon cake she left behind, and make my way to catch up to her.
“Becs, wait!”
People are staring as I’m chasing the woman I know I can’t live another moment without down the crowded New York street. Becca seems to hear me and walks faster, but her little legs are no match to my long strides, and I catch up to her. I grab her arm and turn her around.
My breath catches when I see tears aren’t just welled in her eyes, but they are falling freely down her cheeks. Her makeup is smudged, and her chin is quivering, as she’s trying to control herself from fully sobbing. I embrace her, pulling her face toward my chest.
I feel her stiffen, but then she begins to let go. I start to feel the tears soak my shirt, and her hands grab at the material, and she balls them up. She is so angry, and I know I am the reason for all this pain. But I also can’t walk away as I did before. I have grown up and I know I made a mistake before. I need to prove that to her, that I won’t leave.
But how can I convince her I won’t break her heart when I made the same promises years ago, and I broke every single one of them?
ChapterTen
REBECCA
June 1996
The warmth of summer is making its way into the last few days of spring in Saddle Ridge. The window of the car is down and I have my hand out, feeling the wind move through my fingers. We just finished our last day of school in our sophomore year. I close my eyes and I feel the freedom the summer has ahead for us.
The song on the radio begins and the biggest smile spreads across my face. “Always Be My Baby” by Mariah Carey comes on and I start to sing along. My eyes stay closed, and I feel the music course through my body. This, right here, feels like perfection.
All of a sudden, the song is lowered, and Shane is complaining by my side. “Of all the girls I fall for, I pick the one with the worst taste in music.” I narrow my eyes and turn the music back up. Shane and I are compatible in many ways, but not when it comes to music preferences.
He’s all about his alternative rock, and I can’t stand the sound of it. When he heard me blasting Bone-Thugs-n-Harmony once, he claimed he was allergic, and the station had to be changed before he entered the car with me again. It’s a battle between us every single time we drive together, which is daily because we are inseparable.
Our agreement is we alternate stations every hour, and I know I have four more minutes ofBecs’ Jamsbefore he switches to his own music. I ignore his complaints and continue singing along, Mariah starting off summer with a bang. I just turned sixteen and, like Shane, I can drive around now too, even though I still prefer him chauffeuring me around town.
As much as he claims to hate my taste in music, I see him bopping his head along to the beat when he thinks I’m not watching. I don’t call him on it as I do think some things are fun to leave for later when we argue about the music choices I’ve made. Pick your battles, my mom always tells me, and I’m starting to learn that is the more civilized way of dealing with differences.
It doesn’t mean Shane and I only bicker about music selection. Oh, I’ve had my fair share of moments where I want to claw his eyes out. He’s got that charm about him that seems to cause every girl at school to be on a mission to chase after him. It’s like I don’t exist for those girls, and they still try to take my man.
We’ve been together for a year and a half, and girls are still calling out his name during football games as if his girlfriend isn’t sitting in the stands right along with them.Bitches. Yeah, I said it. He’s mine and I don’t share. But Shane has shown me, time and time again, he only has eyes for me.
I try to remind myself of that when I feel that jealousy come forward. My insecurities and fear of being left behind rear their ugly heads every now and then, and I pout and give him a hard time. We argue and later make up in the most delicious ways. Just thinking about the things my boyfriend does to me makes me squirm in my seat.
Shane puts his right hand on my thigh, and gives me a little squeeze, while leaving the left one steering the wheel of his truck. “You’re a little flushed there, Becs. You all right? Should I pull over and see if you’re coming down with something? I don’t want you getting everyone at the lake sick during our hangout.” I giggle, knowing I’m giving him a look that says he better make good on his offer, and kiss me quickly.
I’m still so shy around Shane about things we could do to one another sexually. We’ve done many things to please each other, but we still haven’t had sex. I don’t know what I’m waiting for. I know he’s the one I want to lose my virginity to, but I feel like it’s something that’s looming over me. Actually, over both of us as we are both virgins.
Although Shane had kissed other girls prior to dating me, he wasn’t as experienced as I had assumed when we started our relationship. I thought he had at least gotten to second base with a girl before me, but it turns out we’ve saved all our firsts for one another, and there is something so special about that. I love him beyond anything I imagined love to feel like. So I don’t know what I’m waiting for to get us to that next level in our relationship. Maybe when it feels right, we will just go for it.
Shane pulls the car over, puts the truck in park and unbuckles my seatbelt, pulling me over toward him. He moves his seat back and I’m straddling him. I feel his length against my bikini bottoms that I’m wearing under this cotton dress. I instinctively grind myself against him and kiss him, hard, like we only have a millisecond together on this stranded road leading to the lake. Shane moans into my mouth as I feel his tongue glide inside. Kissing him feels like I’m taking my first breath each and every time we connect, he fills me with life that I didn’t know I was missing.
Things start getting hot and heavy and before I know it, he’s trailing kisses down my neck and he pulls my dress down, taking my bikini top along with it. My breasts fall out of my top, and he kneads them with both his hands. They fit perfectly in his palms. I throw my head back, arching my back, grinding myself against this man I love. He continues to kiss me, now going toward my chest, suddenly putting one of my nipples in his mouth and nibbling enough to get me hornier than I was before. How does he do this to me? My body breaks out in goosebumps even though the temperature is at least ninety degrees out.
He disconnects from my breast and breathes lightly over my nipple. “I want you so bad, Becs, but we are on the side of the road in the middle of the day. As much as I want to continue this, I didn’t envision our first time being in my truck on the way to a gathering with our friends at the lake.”
I groan because he’s right, and I hate that he has a point. I sit up straight, pull my boobs back into the red triangle bikini I bought for this end-of-year lake celebration, and cover myself up. It’s Shane’s turn to groan in displeasure, and I give him another deep kiss, hoping he reads between the lines that this isn’t over. He smacks me on the ass, and I giggle as I remove myself and sit back down in the passenger seat. I pull down the visor and make sure Shane left no evidence of our little make-out session. This guy is a hickey-lover, stating he has to show off that I’m his, or the other guys would harass me any chance they got. I let out a sigh of relief when I see he hasn’t left any temporary marks on me, but I definitely look like I have been up to no good.
My cheeks are flushed, my lips swollen, and I have some red marks on my chest where Shane’s teenage stubble has marked my skin. “Just be lucky I didn’t leave a mark because I know I’ll be fighting guys off you once that little number you’re wearing is revealed at the lake.”
He points toward my outfit, and I know he’s referring to the small bathing suit I got for this event. My great grandparents on my dad’s side were Brazilian and although I have not really tapped into that part of my ancestry much, I hold onto the fact that when I deem it necessary. I have an ass and small bikinis are a Brazilian staple, so I use that to my advantage in situations like these.
I give him a side-eye, responding, “My mom is pretty chill, but if she catches one more hickey on me, she might ground you and not me.”
This pulls a laugh from him. “Your mom loves me, Becs. She would never cut me off from visiting and having dinner at your house.”
