10.
the honeymoon
“EXCUSE ME FOR a second,” Lake says. She pushes herself up and walks to the bathroom, then slams the door behind her.
She’s mad? Seriously? Oh, hell no. I jump up and try to open the bathroom door, but it’s locked from the inside. I knock. After several seconds, she swings it open and spins back around toward the shower without looking at me. She turns the shower knob until the water comes to life, then she slips off her shirt.
“I just need a shower,” she snaps.
I lean against the doorframe and cross my arms. “You’re mad. Why are you mad? Nothing happened. I never went out with her again.”
She shakes her head and closes the lid to the toilet, then takes a seat on top of it. She slips off her socks one at a time and tosses them to the floor with a jerk of her wrist. “I’m not mad,” she says, still avoiding eye contact.
“Lake?” She doesn’t look up at me. “Lake? Look at me,” I demand.
She inhales a slow breath, then looks up at me through her lashes, her mouth puckered into a pout.
“Three days ago you made a promise to me,” I say. “Do you remember what that promise was?”
She rolls her eyes and stands up, unbuttoning her pants. “Of course I remember, Will. It was three freaking days ago.”
“What did you promise me you wouldn’t do?”
She walks to the mirror and pulls at her ponytail, letting her hair down. She doesn’t respond. I take a step closer to her. “What did you promise, Lake? What did we both promise each other the night before we got married?”
She grabs her brush off the counter and vigorously combs at her hair. “That we would never carve pumpkins with each other,” she mumbles. “That we would talk everything out.”
“And what are you doing right now?”
She slams the brush down on the counter and turns to me. “What the hell do you want me to say, Will? Do you want me to admit that I’m not perfect? That I’m jealous? I know you said it didn’t mean anything to you, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t mean something to me!” She brushes past me and walks to my suitcase to grab her bottle of conditioner. I lean against the bathroom door again and watch her toss the contents of my suitcase onto the floor while she continues searching for more toiletries.
I don’t give her a rebuttal; I have a feeling she isn’t finished. Once she gets started like this, it’s better if I don’t interrupt her. She finds her razor and spins around, continuing her rant.
“And I know you didn’t kiss her first, but you didn’t not kiss her. And you admitted you thought she was cute! And you even admitted that if it weren’t for me, you probably would have asked her out again! I hate her, Will. She sounded really, really nice and I hate her for it. It feels like she’s been your backup plan in case the two of us didn’t work out.”
She marches toward me again, but this last comment of hers really gets to me. My backup plan? I block her way into the bathroom and look down at her, attempting to calm her down before she says something she’ll regret.
“Lake, you know how I felt about you back then. I never even thought about that girl again. I knew exactly who I wanted to be with. It was just a matter of when.”
She drops her arms to her side. “Well, that’s nice that you had that reassurance, because I sure as hell didn’t. I lived every single day feeling like I was going through hell while you were across the street, choosing everything and everyone over me. Not to mention all the while going on dates and kissing other girls while I sat home, watching my own mother die right before my eyes.”
I step forward and grab her face with both hands. “That’s. Not. Fair,” I say through clenched teeth. She darts her eyes away from mine, aware of the low blow she delivered. She pulls away from my grasp and walks around me, back into the bathroom. She pushes open the shower curtain and adjusts the water again, letting her pride and stubbornness win.
“That’s it? You’re leaving it at that?” I say loudly. She doesn’t look up at me. I can sense when I need to step away from a situation, and this is one of those times. If I don’t walk away, I’ll say something I’ll regret, too. I punch the door and storm out of the bathroom, then swing open the door to the hallway. I slam the hotel room door and pace back and forth, cursing under my breath. Each time I pass our hotel room, I pause and turn toward it, expecting her to open the door and apologize.
She never does.
She just got in the shower? How in the hell can she say something like that to me and just get in the damn shower without apologizing? God, she’s so infuriating! I haven’t been this mad at her since that night I thought she was kissing Javi.
I rest my back against our door and slide down to the floor, then take fistfuls of my hair into my hands. She can’t seriously be mad about this. We weren’t even dating! I try to justify her reasons for reacting the way she is, but I can’t. She’s acting like an immature high schooler.
“Will?” she says, her voice muffled by the door. She sounds close and I realize she’s on the other side of the door at my level. The fact that she knew I was sitting on the floor in front of the door pisses me off even more. She knows me too well.
“What?” I say sharply.
It’s silent for a moment, then she sighs. “I’m sorry I said that,” she says softly.
I lean my head against the door and close my eyes, taking in a long, deep breath.
“It’s just . . . I know we don’t believe in soulmates,” she says. “There are so many people in this world that can be right for each other. If there weren’t, then cheating would never be an issue. Everyone would find their one true love and life would be great—relationships would be a piece of cake. But that’s not how it is in reality, and I realize this. So . . . it just hurts, okay? It hurts me to know that there are other women out there in the world that could make you happy. I know it’s immature and I was being petty and jealous, but . . . I just want to be your only one. I want to be your soulmate, even if I don’t believe in them. I overreacted and I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m really sorry, Will.”
There’s silence on both ends, then I hear the bathroom door shut. I close my eyes and contemplate everything she said. I know exactly how she feels; I’ve been prone to my own bouts of jealousy in the past when it comes to her. Back when I was her teacher and hearing her agree to that date with Nick, then later seeing Javi kiss her; I lost my mind both times. Hell, I beat the shit out of Javi, and Lake wasn’t even my girlfriend at the time. Expecting her not to have a reaction when she finds out I kissed someone else in the midst of all our emotional turmoil makes me nothing but a hypocrite. She had a normal reaction just now, and I’m treating her like this is her fault. She’s probably in the shower right now, crying. All because of me.
I’m such an a*shole.
I jump up and slide the key card in, then open the door. I swing open the bathroom door and she’s sitting on the edge of the shower, still in her pants and bra, crying into her hands. She looks up at me with the saddest eyes and guilt consumes me. I grab her hand and pull her up. She sucks in a breath like she’s scared I’m about to yell at her again, which only makes me feel worse. I slide my hands through her hair and grip the nape of her neck, then look her in the eyes. She can see in my expression that I’m not here to fight.
I’m here to make up.
“Wife,” I say, staring straight into her eyes. “Think what you want, but there isn’t a single woman in this whole damn universe that I could ever love like I love you.”
Our mouths collide so forcefully; she almost falls backward into the shower. I brace my hand against the shower wall with one arm, then pick her up around the waist with the other arm, lifting her over the lip of the tub. I shove her up against the wall, the water from the showerhead falling between us. We’re both breathing heavily and I pull her as close against me as she can possibly get while her fingers tug and pull at my hair. My chest heaves with each breath I inhale as we frantically grab and pull and stroke every inch of each other within arm’s reach.
I pull her bra up and over her head, then throw it behind me. My hand slides down to the small of her back, my fingers tracing a trail just inside the back of her jeans. She moans and arches her back, pressing herself harder against me. My fingers slowly slide around to the front of her jeans and I lower her zipper. Her pants are soaked, so it takes effort getting them off her, but I eventually do.
I slide my hand all the way up her thigh and I’m met with nothing but smooth skin. I grin against her lips. “Commando, huh?”
She doesn’t waste any time pulling my mouth back to hers. I’ve been standing directly in the stream of water, so my clothes are soaked, making them more challenging to remove than hers were. Especially since she won’t release me for a second longer than needed to pull off my shirt. Once my shirt is successfully gone, I lean back into her. She moans into my mouth when our bare skin collides, forcing me to immediately dispose of my pants as well. She grabs them out of my hand and tosses them over my shoulder, then pulls me against her. I reach down and grab her right leg behind the knee and I pull it up to my side.
She smiles. “Now this is how I pictured our first shower together,” she says.
I take her bottom lip between my teeth, and I give her the best damn shower she’s ever had.
“HOLY CRAP,” SHE says, falling onto the bed. “That was intense.”
Her arms are relaxed above her head, her robe open just far enough to keep my imagination in check. I sit down beside her and stroke her cheek, then run my hand down her neck. She shivers against my touch. I bend over and press my lips to her collarbone. “There’s just something about this spot,” I say, teasing her neck. “From here . . .” I kiss up her collarbone until I get to the curve in her neck. “To here.” I kiss back down again. “It drives me insane.”
She laughs. “I can tell. You can’t keep your mouth off it. Most guys prefer the ass or the boobs. Will Cooper prefers the neck.”
I shake my head, disagreeing with her while I continue running my lips across her incredibly smooth skin. “Nope,” I say. “Will Cooper prefers the whole Lake.”
I tug at the tie on her robe until it loosens between my fingertips. I slide my hand inside the robe and graze her stomach with my fingers. She squirms beneath my hand and laughs.
“Will, you can’t be serious. It hasn’t even been three minutes.”
I ignore her and kiss the chills that are breaking out on her shoulder. “You remember the first time I couldn’t resist kissing your neck?” I whisper against her skin.
the (first) mistake
IT’S BEEN THREE weeks since Julia told me she was sick, but from watching Lake and listening to Kel on a daily basis, I know she still hasn’t told them. I’ve spoken to Julia a few times, but only in passing. She doesn’t seem to want to bring it up again, so I give her that respect.
Having Lake in third period hasn’t gotten any easier. I’ve learned how to adapt and focus more on what I’m teaching, but the fact that she’s still just feet from me every day still has the same emotional impact. Every morning she comes to class, I try to watch for any hints or signs that Julia may have revealed everything to her, but every day is the same. She never raises her hand or speaks, and I make it a point never to call on her. I make it a point not to even look at her. It’s been getting harder now that Nick seems to be marking his territory. I know it’s none of my business, but I can’t help but wonder if they’re dating. I haven’t seen him at her house but I’ve noticed they sit together at lunch. She always seems to be in a good mood around him. Gavin would know, but as far as he knows I’ve moved on, so I can’t ask him. I really shouldn’t even care . . . but I can’t help it.
I’m running late when I get to class. When I walk in, the first thing I notice is Nick turned toward Lake. She’s laughing again. She’s always laughing at his stupid jokes. I like seeing her laugh, but I also hate that he’s the reason she’s laughing. It immediately puts me in a bad mood, so I decide to cancel the lecture I had planned and give a poetry writing assignment instead. After I lay out the rules and everyone begins on their assignment, I take a seat at my desk. I try to focus on completing a lesson plan, but I can’t help but notice Lake hasn’t written a single word. I know she doesn’t have a problem with the material in class. In fact, she’s had the best grades since the day she enrolled. Her lack of effort on this assignment makes me wonder if she has the same concentration problems during third period that I have.
I glance up from staring at the blank paper on her desk and she’s staring right at me. My heart catches in my throat and the same emotional and physical responses I try so hard to squelch are suddenly consuming me again. It’s the first eye contact we’ve had in three weeks. I try to look away, but I can’t. She doesn’t reveal any hint of emotion in her expression. I wait for her to look away, but instead she stares at me with the same intensity that I’m sure I’m returning in my own stare. This silent exchange between us causes my pulse to race just as fiercely as it did when I kissed her.
When the bell rings, I force myself out of my chair and walk to the door to hold it open. When everyone’s gone, including Lake, I slam it shut.
What the hell am I thinking? That twenty seconds of whatever the hell that was negated my entire last three weeks of effort. I lean against the door and kick it out of frustration.
AS SOON AS I reach the parking lot after school, I see that the hood to Lake’s Jeep is open. I look around, hoping someone else is around to assist her instead. I really don’t need to be alone with her right now, especially after what happened in my classroom this morning. I’m finding it harder and harder to resist the thought of her, and this current predicament has trouble written all over it.
Unfortunately, I’m the only one around. I can’t just leave her here stranded in a parking lot. I’m sure it would be just as easy to turn around and head inside before she notices me. Someone else will help her eventually. Despite my hesitation, I keep walking forward. When I near her vehicle, she’s bludgeoning the battery with a crowbar.
“That’s not a good idea,” I say. I’m hoping she doesn’t bust through the battery before I reach her. She spins around and looks at me, eyeing me up and down, then returns her focus back under the hood like she never even saw me.
“You’ve made it clear that you don’t think a lot of what I do is a very good idea,” she says firmly. She’s obviously not happy to see me, which is just more confirmation that I should turn around and walk away.
But I don’t.
I can’t.
I reluctantly walk closer and peer under the hood. “What’s wrong, it won’t crank?” I check the connections on the battery and inspect the alternator.
“What are you doing, Will?” She has an edgy, almost annoyed tone to her voice. I lift my head out from under the hood and look at her. Her features are hard. It’s obvious she’s put up an invisible wall between us, which is probably a good thing. She seems offended that I’m even offering to help her.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I break our stare and quickly turn my attention back to the battery cable. “I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong with your Jeep,” I say. I walk around to the door and attempt to turn the ignition. When it doesn’t crank, I turn to exit the Jeep and she’s standing right next to me. I’m quickly reminded what it feels like to be in such close proximity to her. I hold my breath and fight back the urge to grab her by the waist and pull her into the Jeep with me.
“I mean, why are you doing this? You’ve made it pretty clear you don’t want me to speak to you,” she says.
Her obvious annoyance at my presence almost makes me regret having decided to help her after all. “Layken, you’re a student stranded in the parking lot. I’m not going to get in my car and just drive away.” As soon as the words escape my lips, I regret them. She draws her chin in and glances away, shocked at my impersonal words.
I sigh and get out of the car. “Look, that’s not how I meant it,” I say as I reach back under the hood.
She steps closer to me and leans against the Jeep. I watch her out of the corner of my eye while I pretend to fidget with more wires. She tugs on her bottom lip with her teeth and stares at the ground, a saddened expression across her face. “It’s just been really hard, Will,” she says quietly. The softness in her voice now is even more painful to hear than the edginess. I inhale, afraid of what she’s about to confess. She takes a deep breath like she’s hesitating to finish her sentence, but continues anyway. “It was so easy for you to accept this and move past it. It hasn’t been that easy for me. It’s all I think about.”
Her confession and the honesty in her voice cause me to wince. I grip the edge of the hood and turn toward her. She’s looking down at her hands with a troubled expression on her face. “You think this is easy for me?” I whisper.
She glances at me and shrugs. “Well, that’s how you make it seem,” she says.
Now would be the opportune moment to walk away. Walk away, Will.
“Lake, nothing about this has been easy,” I whisper. I know beyond a doubt that I shouldn’t be saying any of the things I’ve been dying to say to her, but everything about her draws the truth out of me whether I want to share it or not. “It’s a daily struggle for me to come to work, knowing this very job is what’s keeping us apart.” I turn away from the car and lean against it, next to her. “If it weren’t for Caulder, I would have quit that first day I saw you in the hallway. I could have taken the year off . . . waited until you graduated to go back.” I turn toward her and lower my voice. “Believe me, I’ve run every possible scenario through my mind. How do you think it makes me feel to know that I’m the reason you’re hurting? That I’m the reason you’re so sad?”
I just said way too much. Way too much.
“I . . . I’m sorry,” she stutters. “I just thought—”
“Your battery is fine,” I say as soon as I see Nick round the car next to us. “Looks like it might be your alternator.”
“Car won’t start?” Nick says.
Layken looks at me wide-eyed, then turns around to face Nick. “No, Mr. Cooper thinks I need a new alternator.”
“That sucks,” Nick says as he glances under the hood. He looks back up at Lake. “I’ll give you a ride home if you need one.”
As much as I’d rather punch him than let him take her home, I know it’s her only option right now because I sure as hell don’t need to take her home.
“That would be great, Nick,” I say. I shut the hood of the Jeep and walk away before I add to my long list of stupid decisions.
I SHOULD JUST pull the list of stupid decisions back out, because I’m making another one right now.
We’ve spent the last fifteen minutes frantically searching for Kel and Caulder. I’d assumed they were at her house, she had assumed they were at mine. We finally found them passed out in the backseat of my car, where they still are.
Now, I’m rummaging through my satchel, searching for the keys to her Jeep. I had my mechanic put a new alternator on it this afternoon, then stupidly invited her inside to give her the keys back. I say stupidly, because every ounce of my being doesn’t want her to leave. My heart is pounding against my chest just being in her presence. I locate the keys and turn around to hand them to her. “Your keys,” I say, dropping them into her hand.
“Oh, thanks,” she says, looking down at them. I’m not sure what she expected me to hand her, but she seems disappointed that it’s just her keys.
“It’s running fine now,” I say. “You should be able to drive it home tomorrow.” I’m hoping she’ll be the strong one right now and just leave. I can’t bring myself to walk her back to the door, so I make my way back into the living room and sit on the couch. The conversation at her Jeep this afternoon lingers silent and thick in the air between us.
“What? You fixed it?” she says, following me into the living room.
“Well, I didn’t fix it. I know a guy who was able to put an alternator on it this afternoon.”
“Will, you didn’t have to do that,” she says. Rather than leave like we both know she should, she sits on the couch beside me. When her elbow grazes mine, I bring my hands up and clasp them behind my head. We can’t even graze elbows without my wanting to reach over and kiss the hell out of her.
“Thanks, though. I’ll pay you back.”
“Don’t worry about it. You guys have helped me a lot with Caulder lately, it’s the least I can do.”
She looks down at her hand and twirls the keys around. She runs her thumb over the Texas-shaped keychain and I can’t help but wonder if she’d still rather be there right now.
“So, can we finish our conversation from earlier?” she says, still staring down at the keychain.
I already regret having said what I said at her Jeep today. I confessed way too much. I can’t believe I told her I would have quit my job if it weren’t for Caulder. I mean, it’s the truth. As crazy and desperate as it sounds, I would have quit in a heartbeat. I’m not so sure I still wouldn’t if she would just ask me to.
“That depends,” I say. “Did you come up with a solution?”
She shakes her head and looks up at me. “Well, no,” she says. She tosses her keys onto the coffee table and pulls her knee up, turning to face me on the couch. She sighs, almost as if she’s afraid to ask me something. She runs her fingers over the throw pillow between us and traces the pattern without looking up at me. “Suppose these feelings we have just get more . . . complex.” She hesitates for a moment. “I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of getting a GED.”
Her plan is so absurd I almost have to hold back a laugh. “That’s ridiculous,” I say, shooting a look in her direction. “Don’t even think like that. There’s no way you’re quitting school, Lake.”
She tosses the pillow aside. “It was just an idea,” she says.
“Well, it was a dumb one.”
Things grow quiet between us. The way she’s turned toward me on the couch causes every muscle in my body to clench, even my jaw. I’m trying so hard not to turn toward her, to take her in my arms. This entire situation isn’t fair. If we were in any other circumstances, a relationship between us would be absolutely fine. Accepted. Normal. The only thing keeping us apart is a damn job title.
It’s so hard having to hide how I feel about her when it’s just the two of us. It would be so easy to just say “To hell with it,” and do what I want to do. I know if I could just get past the moral aspect and the threat of getting caught, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I’d take her in my arms and kiss her just like I’ve been imagining for the past three weeks. I’d kiss her mouth, I’d kiss her cheek, I’d kiss that line from her ear down to her shoulder that I can’t stop staring at. She’d let me, too. I know how hard this has been on her; I can see it in the way she carries herself now. She’s depressed. I’m almost tempted to make all of this easier on her and just act on my feelings. If neither of us says anything, no one would know. We could do this secretly until she graduated. If we were careful, we could even keep it from Julia and the boys.
I pop my knuckles behind my head in order to distract myself from pulling her mouth to mine. My heart is erratic just thinking about the possibility of kissing her again. I inhale through my nose and out my mouth, trying to physically calm myself before I do something stupid. Or smart. I can’t tell what’s right or wrong when I’m around her because what’s wrong feels so right and what’s right feels so wrong.
Her finger grazes across my neck and the unexpected touch causes me to flinch. She defensively holds up her finger to show me the shaving cream she just wiped off my neck. Without even thinking, I grab her hand to wipe it onto my shirt.
Big mistake.
As soon as my fingers touch hers, whatever conscious thoughts remained get wiped away right along with the shaving cream. My hand remains clasped on top of hers and she relaxes it onto my chest.
I’ve reached the threshold of my willpower. My pulse is racing, my heart feels like it’s about to explode. I can’t let go of her hand and I can’t stop looking into her eyes. In this moment, absolutely nothing is happening, but then again everything is happening. Every single second I silently look at her, holding on to her hand, erases days of willpower and determination I spent keeping my distance. Every ounce of energy I’ve put into doing the right thing has all been in vain.
“Will?” she whispers without breaking her gaze. The way my name flows from her lips makes my pulse go haywire. She strokes her thumb ever so slightly across my chest—a movement she may not have even been aware of, but one that I feel all the way to my core. “I’ll wait for you,” she says. “Until I graduate.”
As soon as the words come from her lips, I exhale and close my eyes. She just said what I’ve wanted to hear from her for an entire month. I stroke my thumb across the back of her hand and sigh. “That’s a long wait, Lake. A lot can happen in a year.”
She scoots closer to me on the couch. She removes her hand from my chest and lightly touches my jaw with the tips of her fingers, pulling my gaze back to hers. I refuse to look into her eyes. I know if I do, I’ll give in and kiss her. I slide my fingers down her hand with every intention of stopping at her wrist to pull her hand from my face. Instead, my fingers trail past her wrist and slowly graze up the length of her arm. I need to stop. I need to pull back, but my willpower and my heart are suddenly at war.
I pull my legs off the coffee table in front of me. I’m hoping she pushes me away from her—does what we both know one of us needs to do. When she doesn’t, I find myself drawing in closer. I just want to put my arms around her and hold her. I want to hold her like I held her outside Club N9NE before all of this became out of our control. Before it became this overwhelming, convoluted mess.
Before I can stop myself or give myself time to think about it—my lips meet her neck, and all hell breaks loose inside me. She wraps her arms around me and inhales a breath deep enough for the both of us. The feel and taste of her skin against my lips is enough to completely wipe away the rest of my conscience.
To hell with it.
I kiss across her collarbone, up her neck and to her jaw, then take her face in my hands and pull back to look her in the eyes. I need to know we’re on the same page. I need to know that she wants this as bad as I do. That she needs this as bad as I do.
The sadness in her eyes that has consumed her for the past three weeks is nonexistent right now. There’s hope in her eyes again, and I want nothing more than to somehow help her maintain whatever it is she’s feeling right now. I slowly lean in and press my lips against hers. The sensation from the kiss both kills me and brings me back to life in the same breath. She quietly gasps, then parts her lips for me, taking a fist of my shirt in her hands, gently pulling me closer.
I kiss her.
I kiss her like it’s the first time I’ve ever kissed her.
I kiss her like it’s the last time I’ll ever kiss her.
Her hands are around my neck—my lips are caressing hers. Holding her in my arms right now feels like I’m taking the first breath I’ve taken since that moment I saw her standing in the hallway. Every moan from her mouth and every touch of her hands brings me back to life. Nothing and no one can come between us and this moment. Not Caulder, not my morals, not my job, not my school, not Julia.
Julia.
I clench my fists, fighting against the pull to release her when reality hits. The heaviness of the situation comes crashing back down on me like a ton of bricks, forcing itself into the forefront of my mind. Lake has no idea what’s about to happen to her life, and I’m allowing myself to complicate it even more? With every movement of my mouth against hers, I’m pulling us further and further into a hole we aren’t going to be able to crawl out of.
She runs her hands through my hair and begins to lower herself back onto the couch, pulling me with her. I know once our bodies are meshed together on this couch, neither one of us will be strong enough to stop.
I can’t do this to her. There is so much more going on in her life than she’s even aware of. What the hell am I thinking adding this kind of stress to that? I swore to Julia I wouldn’t complicate Lake’s life, and that’s precisely what I’m doing. I somehow find the strength to tear my lips apart from hers and pull away. When I do, we both gasp for air.
“We’ve got to stop,” I say, breathless. “We can’t do this.” I squeeze my eyes shut and cover them with my forearm, giving myself a minute to regroup. I feel her inching closer to me. She pulls herself onto my lap and forces her lips onto mine again in a desperate plea to keep going. The second our lips meet, I instinctively wrap my arms around her and pull her closer. My conscience is literally screaming at me so loud, I pull her face to mine even harder in an attempt to squelch the internal voice. My mind is telling me to do one thing; my heart and my hands are begging me to do another. She grasps my shirt and slips it over my head, then returns her lips to my mouth where they belong.
In my mind I’m pushing her away, but in reality I’ve got one hand on her lower back, pulling her against me, and my other hand gripping the nape of her neck. She runs her hands over my chest and I have a huge urge to do the same to her. Just as I grasp the hem of her shirt, I clench my fists and release it. I’ve already let it go way too far. I’ve got to put an end to this before I can’t. It’s entirely my responsibility to make sure she doesn’t get hurt again, and right now I’m dropping the ball completely.
I push her off me and back onto the couch, then stand up. I’ve got one chance to prove to her that this is bad. As good as it feels, it’s wrong. So wrong.
“Layken, get up!” I demand, taking her hand. I’m so incredibly flustered right now, I don’t mean for my reaction to come off so harsh, but I don’t know how else to react. I’m so pissed at myself I want to scream, but I struggle with the attempt to calm my nerves. She stands up with a look of embarrassment and confusion across her face.
“This—this can’t happen!” I say. “I’m your teacher now. Everything has changed. We can’t do this.” I can hear the edge in my voice again. I’m trying my best not to come off as angry, but I am angry. Not at her, but how can she differentiate? Maybe she shouldn’t. Maybe this would be easier for her if she were disappointed in me. Easier for her to let me go.
She sits back down on the couch and drops her face into her hands. “Will, I won’t say anything,” she whispers. “I swear.” She looks back up at me and the sadness in her eyes has returned. All the hope is gone.
The hurt in her voice only solidifies the fact that I’m an a*shole. I can’t believe I just did this to her—led her on like this. She doesn’t need this right now.
“I’m sorry, Layken, but it’s not right,” I say as I pace the floor. “This isn’t good for either of us. This isn’t good for you.”
She glares at me. “You don’t know what’s good for me,” she snaps.
I’ve really screwed this up. Royally. I need to fix it now. I need to end it now. For good. She can’t leave here thinking this is going to happen again. I stop pacing and turn toward her.
“You won’t wait for me. I won’t let you give up what should be the best year of your life. I had to grow up way too fast; I’m not taking that away from you, too. It wouldn’t be fair.” I inhale a breath and tell the biggest lie I’ve ever told. “I don’t want you to wait for me, Layken.”
“I won’t be giving anything up,” she replies weakly.
The pain in her voice is too much, causing me to have an overwhelming urge to hug her again. I can’t take these emotional swings anymore. One minute I’m wanting to kiss the living hell out of her and take her in my arms and protect her from every tear that’s about to come her way, then the next minute my conscience kicks in and I want to kick her out of my house. I’ve hurt her so bad and she has no idea how much worse her life is about to get. Just knowing this makes me hate myself for what I just allowed to happen. Despise myself, even.
I grab my shirt and pull it over my head, then move across the living room to the back of the couch. I take a deep breath, feeling slightly more in control the farther away I am from her. I grip the back of the couch and prepare an attempt to rectify a nonrectifiable situation. If I could just get her to understand where I’m coming from, maybe she wouldn’t take it so hard.
“My life is nothing but responsibilities. I’m raising a child, for Christ’s sake. I wouldn’t be able to put your needs first. Hell, I wouldn’t even be able to put them second.” I raise my head and meet her eyes. “You deserve better than third.”
She stands up and crosses the living room, kneeling on the couch in front of me. “Your responsibilities should come before me, which is why I want to wait for you, Will. You’re a good person. This thing about you that you think is your flaw—it’s the reason I’m falling in love with you.”
Whatever was left of my heart before those words left her mouth is in a million pieces now. I can’t let her do this. I can’t let her feel this way. The only thing I can do to make her stop loving me is to make her start hating me. I bring my hands up to meet her cheeks and I look her in the eyes, then I say the hardest words that I’ll ever have to say. “You are not falling in love with me. You cannot fall in love with me.” As soon as I see the tears welling in the corners of her eyes, I have to drop my hands and head toward the front door. I can’t watch her cry. I don’t want to see what I’m doing to her right now.
“What happened tonight—” I point to the couch. “That can’t happen again. That won’t happen again.”
I open the front door and shut it behind me, then lean against the door and close my eyes. I rub my hands over my face and attempt to calm myself down. This is all my fault. I allowed her into my house, knowing how weak I am around her. I kissed her. I kissed her. I can’t believe all of this just happened. Twenty minutes alone with her and I somehow screw her life up even more.
Seeing her sitting on the couch just now, dumbfounded and heartbroken because of my actions and my words . . . I hate myself. Pretty sure Lake hates me now, too. I hope it was worth it. Somehow doing the right thing in this situation seems completely and utterly wrong.
I walk to the car and pull Caulder out. He wraps his arms around my neck without even waking up. Kel opens his eyes and looks around, confused.
“You guys fell asleep in the car. Go home and go to bed, okay?”
He rubs his eyes and crawls out of the car, then makes his way across the street. When I walk back through the front door holding Caulder, Lake is still sitting on the couch, staring at the floor. As much as I want to grab her and tell her I’m so, so sorry for this entire night, I realize she needs this to get past whatever it is going on between us. She needs to be angry at me. And Julia needs her to be focused this year. She can’t have Lake wrapped up in us when it might be the last year she ever gets to spend with her mom.
“Kel woke up, he’s walking home now. You should go, too,” I say.
She snatches the keys off the table in front of her and turns to face me. She looks me straight in the eyes; tears streaming down her face. “You’re an a*shole,” she says, her words like a bullet of truth straight through my heart. She walks out and slams the door behind her.
I take Caulder to his room and tuck him in, then walk to my bedroom. When I close the door behind me, I lean against it and close my eyes, then slide down the length of the door until I meet the floor. I press the heels of my palms against my eyes, holding back the tears.
God, this girl. This girl is the only girl I care about, and I just gave her every reason in the world to hate me.