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Just a few more months and we’ll be gone,” she whispers. But I’m starting to wonder if we’ll ever be free from them.
thirteen
Callie
Now
When I hurryout to my loaner Prius, I realize it’s not where I parked it. I frantically search the parking lot, and my eyes land on him. He’s leaning up against his motorcycle with his legs crossed with a helmet in his hands, staring back at me with a sexy smirk. Dimple engaged.
I drink him in, standing there in his dark jeans, boots, and a black hoodie. He looks so good that it’s painful, and his mouth turns up at me like he knows what I’m thinking. Dammit, I hate it when he does that.
“What are you doing here?” I call, pretending to be chill. Except there’s no chill in me right now. Not a bit. My heart pounds nervously in my chest.
“Your car’s done. I left it in your driveway. Come on. We’re going for a ride.”
“I can’t ride with you.” I shake my head.But I want to. I want to really bad.
“Get on, Callie. Now,” he says firmly. And something in his tone makes my toes curl. Bossy SJ is sexy.Fine.I reluctantly walk over and take the helmet he’s holding out and slide it on.
He puts his helmet on, swings his leg over the bike, and effortlessly pulls me on behind him. He reaches up and starts the bike, then reaches back and pulls my arms around his waist. He’s warm and solid. He feels so good.
I hear him in the speakers of the helmet. “We’re just riding, Callie. No talking. We need this,” he says as he looks back at me. I nod in exhaustion and lay my cheek on his back. His body relaxes with relief at my agreement, and the tension pours off him.
Feeling him, being near him is calming to me, despite all the pain between us. It’s crazy to me how someone can hurt you so badly, yet you still love them so much. It’s not fair.
He takes off, and our first stop is in front of my house. He gently removes my backpack and drops it on my porch. He waves at Mrs. Winters as he jogs back to the bike, and I wave at her as well. She waves back at us so excitedly that it looks like she’s about to break her arm. I grin at her, shaking my head, knowing she’ll grill me about this later.
The sun is about to set, and I’ll admit it’s perfect weather for fall riding here in Freedom Valley. He heads toward the lookout, but he doesn’t stop, instead choosing the highways with the most fantastic autumn foliage views that appear golden with the sun setting. In high school, we’d ride in his truck on these same highways with music playing and not a care in the world. Now, I feel like we have the weight of the world on our shoulders. We often took drives where we didn’t talk, just listened to music and were together like now.
I lean in and breathe him in—fuel, motor oil, and soap. He feels like home. Old home. The kind of time travel back to your childhood home in a time where you felt safe and secure. And in my childhood, he was that place for me. He and Sam. And then Goldie.
And for this ride, I’ll soak it up. He didn’t talk to me, just like he promised. Sometimes he’d point at a bird or animal, and I’d squeeze him a little so he knew I saw it too.
Healing energy swirls through both of us as we ride. My arms wrapped around him, feeling him and being with him, is what my soul needed tonight. I didn’t realize how much I needed this. How muchweneeded this. He was right.
When we return to town, he pulls up to the side of my cottage behind my car. We get off, and he takes my hand as he walks me to the door. He leans in, kissing me softly, taking his time. A tear falls down my cheek, and he swipes it away with his thumb. “Why are you crying?”
“I don’t know. It’s been a long time since I’ve let myself cry over us. And you come back here, and all these emotions are trying to pour out of me. It’s like a part of me stopped living and having emotions when you left. I bottled it up and kept quiet.”
“When you’re quiet, you’re crying the loudest,” he says softly. “No more bottling. I’m here. Let’s work it out.”
“I haven’t even let myself cry or have any emotions, SJ. I’ve buried everything with work and school,” I admit.
“You promised you’d try,” he says, pulling me in and kissing the side of my head. His hand wraps around my waist, pulling me closer to him. “Also, there’s no more school, and the hospital doesn’t own you. You don’t have to work that many extra hours. You deserve to be happy. Let me make you happy.” His eyes search mine, trying to read how I’m feeling just as I’m doing to him.
“You were my otter,” I say quietly. “I have to try.”
I can’t just throw away what we had, but I honestly have no idea what I’m doing here. I feel like this is all happening so fast, and it feels exhilarating and nerve-racking. I don’t want to mess it up and make him want to leave me again.
“I’m still your otter,” he says, taking my hands and searching my eyes.
“What does this mean for us?”
“I want you, and I want us. A fresh start.”
I stare at him; his confidence hasn’t wavered. He really wants me. Having him pursue me after all this time is confusing and stirs up so much in me.
He pulls me in for a soft and tentative kiss, making me lean into him and kiss him back until his tongue licks along my bottom lip, asking for entrance. I open my mouth, and that’s the permission he needs, and he tastes me, exploring me heavy and fiery. Our passion feels out of control.
