This Girl (Slammed #3)

8.

the honeymoon

“OKAY,” LAKE SAYS. “Two things. One. That poem was . . . heartbreakingly beautiful.”

“Just like its subject,” I say. I lean in to kiss her but she brings her hand up and pushes my face away.

“Two,” she says, narrowing her eyes. “Gavin and Eddie tried to set you up with someone?” She huffs and sits up on the bed. “Good thing you didn’t agree to it. I don’t care how screwed up our situation was, there’s no way I would have dated anyone else considering the way I felt about you.”

I quickly change the subject before she realizes that, although I didn’t agree to it, Eddie is pretty damn persistent.

“Okay, now for Friday night,” I say, successfully taking her mind off the date. “Your mom.”

“Yeah,” she says, finding a comfortable spot next to me and throwing her leg over mine. “My mom.”

secrets

“PASTA AGAIN?” CAULDER whines. He grabs his plate of food from the counter and takes it to the bar and sits.

“If you don’t like it, learn how to cook.”

“I like it,” Kel says. “My mom cooks a lot of vegetables and chicken. That’s probably why I’m so small, because I’m malnouredish.”

“Are you serious?”

I laugh a nervous laugh, attempting to make light of the situation. “Lake, you know how forceful Eddie can be. I didn’t want to go. Besides, it was just one date.”

“Just one date?” she says. “Are you saying you can’t develop feelings for someone after just one date?” She spins around on the bed and stands up, dropping down into the desk chair beside the bed. She folds her arms across her chest, shaking her head again. “Please tell me you didn’t kiss her.”

I scoot toward her until I’m sitting on the edge of the bed. I reach forward and take her hands in mine and look her in the eyes. “I love you,” I say. “And I’m here. With you. Married to you. Who cares what happened on one silly date more than two years ago?”

“You KISSED her?” she says, jerking her hands back. She places her foot on the bed between my legs and pushes against it, rolling her and the chair several feet away from me.

“She kissed me,” I say defensively. “And it was . . . God, Lake. It was nothing like kissing you.”

She glares at me.

“Okay,” I say, wiping the smirk off my face. “Not funny. But seriously, you’re making a big deal out of nothing. Besides, you agreed to go out with Nick that next week. Remember? What’s the difference?”

“What’s the difference?” she says, enunciating each word carefully. “I didn’t go on a date with him. I didn’t kiss him. That’s a pretty damn big difference.”

I lean forward and grab the arms of her chair and pull her back to me until she’s flush against my legs. I place my hands on her cheeks and force her to look at me. “Layken Cooper, I love you. I’ve loved you since the second I laid eyes on you and I haven’t stopped loving you for a second since. The entire time I was out with Taylor, all I was thinking about was you.”

She crinkles up her nose. “Taylor? I didn’t need to know her name, Will. Now I’ll have a distaste for Taylors for the rest of my life.”

“Like I have distaste for Javiers and Nicks?” I say. She grins, but quickly forces the smile away, still trying to punish me with her ineffective scowl.

“You’re so cute when you’re jealous, babe.” I lean forward and softly press my lips to hers. She sighs a quiet, defeated sigh into my mouth and relents, parting her lips for me. I run my hands down her arms and to her waist, then pull her out of the chair and on top of me as I lean back onto the bed.

I place one hand on the small of her back, pressing her against me, and my other hand I run through her hair, grabbing the back of her head. I kiss her hard as I roll her onto her back, proving to her she has absolutely nothing to be jealous of. As soon as I’m on top of her, she places her hands on my cheeks and forces my face away from hers.

“So your lips touched someone else’s lips? After our first kiss?”

I fall back onto the bed beside her. “Lake, stop it. Stop thinking about it.”

“I can’t, Will.” She turns to me and makes that damn pouty face she knows I can’t refuse. “I have to know details. In my head all I can picture is you taking some girl out on this perfect date and making her grilled cheese sandwiches and playing “would you rather” with her and sharing seriously intense moments with her, then kissing the hell out of her at the end of the night.”

Her description of our first date makes me laugh. I lean over and press my lips to her ear and whisper, “Is that what I did to you? I kissed the hell out of you?”

She pulls her neck away and shoots me a glare, letting me know she isn’t backing down until she gets her way. “Fine,” I groan, pulling back. “If I tell you all about it will you promise to let me kiss the hell out of you again?”

“Promise,” she says.

the other date

WHEN THE DISMISSAL bell rings, Lake is the first out of the classroom again. The tension in the air between us is so thick, it’s like she has to run outside just to breathe. I walk to my desk and take a seat while the rest of the students file out.

“Saturday night. Seven o’clock good for you?” Gavin says. I look up at him and he’s staring at me, waiting for a response.

“Good for what?”

“For Taylor. We’re going on a double date and Eddie won’t take no for an answer.”

“No.”

Gavin stares at me for a few seconds, finding it difficult to comprehend my answer. It was a pretty clear no, so I’m not sure what the problem is.

“Please?” he says.

“Puppy dog eyes only work on your girlfriend, Gavin.”

He slumps his shoulders and lands in the desk in front of me. “She’s not gonna let it go, Will. Once Eddie gets something in her head, it’s way less painful to just go along with it.”

I shake my head. “No. I’m not going,” I say firmly. “Besides, you’re the one who put this idea in her head. You should have to suffer the consequences, not me.”

Gavin leans back in his chair and runs his hands over his face, defeated. As soon as I feel victorious, he shoots forward in his seat. “If you don’t go, I’ll tell.”

I lean back in my chair and glare at him. “You’ll tell what?”

He glances at the door, then back at me, ensuring our privacy. “I’ll go to Principal Murphy and I’ll tell him you went out with a student. I’m sorry it has to come to blackmail, Will, but you don’t know Eddie when she gets an idea in her head. You have to do this for me.”

Did he really just threaten to blackmail me?

I pick up my pen and pull my lesson plan in front of me, breaking eye contact with him. “Gavin, you won’t tell,” I say, laughing.

He groans at my response, because he knows he would never stoop that low. “You’re right. I’d never tell. But don’t you think you owe it to me for being so trustworthy?” he says. “It’s just one date. One tiny favor. What difference can one date make?”

“Depending on who it’s with, it can make a huge difference,” I say. One date with Lake was enough to send my life into a tailspin.

“If it helps, you won’t have to do much talking. Taylor and Eddie will completely monopolize the conversation. We can eat our steaks and grunt every few minutes and they’ll be none the wiser. Then it’ll be over. I swear.”

I do owe him a favor. A huge favor. He’s the only one who knows about my situation with Lake and he’s never once given me flak about it. I don’t know how Eddie can get her way when she’s not even in the room, but I finally relent. I slap my pen down on the desk and sigh, giving him a stern look.

“Fine,” I say. “Under one condition.”

“Anything,” he says.

“I don’t want this to get back to Lake. Tell Eddie I’ll go, but give her an excuse to keep her quiet. Tell her I’m not supposed to be hanging out with you two after hours or something.”

Gavin stands and gathers his things. “Thank you, Will,” he says. “You’re a lifesaver. And hey, you might even like Taylor. Keep an open mind.”

I WALK INTO the restaurant and spot the three of them in a booth in the far corner. I take a deep breath, then grudgingly walk toward them. I can’t believe I’m going on a date. A date that’s not with Lake, the only girl I want to be on a date with.

The girl I can’t be on a date with.

Gavin’s words, “keep an open mind,” linger in my head. I’ve been completely consumed by thoughts of Lake since I met her almost three weeks ago. I’ve made the right choice by not continuing something that could ruin my career, but now I just need to figure out how to accept that choice and get her out of my head. Maybe Gavin’s right. Maybe I do need to try to move on. It could be better for both of us this way.

When Gavin spots me, he waves and stands up, prompting Taylor to turn around. She’s . . . cute. Really cute. Her hair is darker than Lake’s and shorter, but it fits her well. She’s not as tall as Lake, either. She’s got a great smile; one of those that seems to be permanently affixed.

I reach the table and smile back at her. Might as well give this a shot.

“Will, Taylor. Taylor, Will,” Gavin says, gesturing between us. She smiles and stands up, then gives me a quick hug. General greetings pass around the table and we take our seats. It’s odd sitting on the same side of the booth with her. I don’t know if I should turn toward her or give my attention to Eddie and Gavin.

“So,” she says. “Gavin says you’re a teacher?”

I nod. “Student teacher. Until December graduation, anyway.”

“You’re graduating in December?” she asks, taking a sip of her soda. “How? Isn’t that a semester early?”

The waitress walks up to the table and hands me a menu, interrupting the short conversation. “What can I get you to drink?”

“I’ll have a sweet tea,” I say. The waitress nods and walks away, then Eddie nudges Gavin and pushes his shoulder.

“Sorry, guys, but . . . something just came up,” Eddie says. Gavin stands up and pulls his wallet out of his pocket, throwing some cash down on the table.

“This should cover our drinks. You can take Taylor home, right?” he says to me.

“Something came up, huh?” I ask, glaring at both of them. I can’t believe they’re doing this. I’m so going to fail them.

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie says, taking Gavin’s hand. “So sorry we can’t stay. You two have fun.”

And they’re gone. Just like that.

Taylor laughs. “Wow. That wasn’t obvious,” she says.

I turn back to her and she’s grinning, shaking her head. Now it really feels odd sitting in the same side of the booth with her. “Well,” I say. “This is . . .”

We both say “awkward” at the same time, which causes us to laugh.

“Do you mind if . . .” I point to the other side of the booth and she shakes her head.

“No, please. I’ve never been a same-side-of-the-booth girl. It’s weird.”

“I agree,” I say, scooting into the seat across from her. The waitress brings my drink and takes our order. It gives us about thirty seconds of distraction before she walks away again, leaving us to fend for ourselves.

Taylor lifts her glass up, motioning to mine. “To awkward first dates,” she says. I pick my glass up and clink it against hers.

“So, before all that,” she says, waving her hand in the air. “We were talking about how you were graduating a semester early?”

“Yeah . . .” I pause. I don’t really feel like going into detail about the real reasons I’m graduating early. I lean back in the booth and shrug. “When I want something, I guess I just focus until I get it. Tunnel vision,” I say.

She nods. “Impressive. I’ve still got a year left, but I’m going into teaching, too. Primary. I like kids.”

Our conversation begins to flow better. We talk about college for a while, then when the food comes we talk about that. Then when we run out of things to talk about, she brings up her family. I let her talk about them, but I don’t divulge. By the time the bill comes, the conversation is far from awkward. I’ve only thought about Lake ten times. Maybe fifteen.

Everything seems okay until we’re in the car, backing out of the parking lot. Seeing her sitting in the passenger seat, staring out the window; it’s reminiscent of just a few weeks ago when Lake was doing the exact same thing, in this exact same spot. But it doesn’t feel anything like that. That night with Lake I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her while we drove and she slept, her hand still locked with mine. I’m not one to believe that there is only one person right for me in the world. But the tug and pull Lake has on me, even when she isn’t in my presence, it makes it feel like she’s the most right for me. As much as I think Taylor and I would hit it off on a second date, I’m not so sure I’ll ever be able to settle for anything less than what I feel for Lake.

We make more small talk and she directs me toward her house. When we pull up into the driveway, the awkwardness immediately sets in. I don’t want to lead her on at all, but I also don’t want her to think she did anything wrong to turn me off. She was great. The date was great. It’s just that my date with Lake was so much more, and now I want nothing less.

I put the car in park and, as awkward as this is going to be, I offer to walk her to her door. When we reach the patio, she turns around and looks up at me with an inviting and welcoming look on her face. This is the point where I need to be honest with her. I don’t want to get her hopes up.

“Taylor . . .” I say. “I had a really good ti—” Before I can finish my sentence, her lips are meshed with mine. She doesn’t seem like the type to make such bold moves, so the kiss catches me completely off guard. She runs her hands through my hair and I’m suddenly faced with the realization that I don’t know what to do with my own hands. Do I touch her? Do I push her away? To be honest, the kiss isn’t half bad and I catch myself closing my eyes, bringing my hand to her cheek. I know I shouldn’t be making comparisons but I can’t help it. This kiss is reminiscent of kissing Vaughn. It’s not bad . . . pleasant even. But there isn’t any emotion in it. No passion. Nothing like what I felt when I kissed Lake.

Lake.

I prepare to pull myself away from her when she finally pulls back herself. I’m relieved I didn’t have to be the one to push her away. She takes a step back and covers her mouth in embarrassment. “Wow,” she says. “I’m so sorry. I’m not usually that forward.”

I laugh. “It’s fine. Really, Taylor. It was nice.”

I’m not lying; it was nice.

“You’re just really . . . I don’t know,” she says, still smiling uncomfortably. “I just wanted to kiss you,” she shrugs.

I rub the back of my neck and glance at her front door, then back at her. How am I going to say this?

She follows my gaze to her front door, then back to me and smiles. “Oh. You uh . . . You want to come inside?”

Oh, god, oh, god. Why did I look at the door? She thinks I want to come inside now. Do I want to come inside? Shit. I don’t want to come inside. I can’t. I wouldn’t be thinking about Taylor at all if I went inside.

“Taylor,” I say. “I need to be honest with you. I think you’re great. I had a great time. If we did this a few months ago, I’d be inside that house with you in a heartbeat.”

She can see where I’m headed, so she just nods. “But . . .” she says.

“There’s someone else. Someone recent that I can’t seem to get past. I agreed to this date because I was hoping that maybe it would somehow help me get over her, but . . . it’s too soon.”

She looks up at the sky and drops her arms to her side. “Oh, god. I just kissed you. I thought you were feeling it, too, so I kissed you.” She covers her face with her hands, embarrassed. “I’m an idiot.”

“No,” I say, taking a step closer. “No, don’t say that. I know this is cliché and it’s the last thing you want to hear, but . . . it’s not you, it’s me. It’s completely me. Really. I think you’re great and cute and I’m glad you kissed me. Honestly, the timing just really sucks. That’s all.”

She hugs herself with her arms and looks down at the ground. “If it’s just timing,” she says quietly, “will you keep my number? In case the timing thing ever gets better?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Definitely.”

She nods, then looks up at me. “Okay, then,” she smiles. “To awkward first dates.”

I laugh. “To awkward first dates,” I say. She waves and heads inside. Once she’s inside her house, I sigh and head back to my car. “Never again, Gavin,” I mutter. “Never again.”

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.

11.

the honeymoon

“I’M SO, SO sorry, Will,” she whispers. She puts her hands over her face and covers her eyes. “I feel horrible. Terrible. And selfish. I didn’t know how hard it was for you, too. I just thought you kicked me out because I wasn’t worth the risk.”

“Lake, you didn’t know what all was going through my mind. For all you knew I was just some jerk who kissed you, then kicked you out of my house. I never blamed you. And you were absolutely worth the risk. If it weren’t for knowing what I knew about Julia, I would have never let you go.”

She pulls her hands away from her face and turns to me. “Oh, my god, and those names. I never did apologize for that.” She rolls on top of me and brings her face inches from mine. “I’m so sorry I called you all those names the next day.”

“Don’t be,” I shrug. “I sort of deserved it.”

She shakes her head. “You can’t sit here and tell me that didn’t piss you off. I mean, I called you thirty different names in front of the entire class!”

“I didn’t say it didn’t piss me off. I just said I deserved it.”

She laughs. “So you were mad at me.” She lies back down on her pillow. “Let me hear it,” she says.

regrets

I’VE GONE AS slowly as possible. I’ve called on each student, never rushed them, never even timed them. Usually they don’t spit them out this fast. Of course, as soon as Gavin finishes his poem, there’s still five minutes to spare. I have no choice but to call on her. I waited until last, hoping the bell would ring. I don’t know if I’m trying to spare her from having to get up and speak after what happened between us last night, or if I’m scared to death about what she might say. Either way, it’s her turn and I have no choice but to call her up.

I clear my throat and attempt to say her name, but it comes out all mangled. She walks to the front of the room and leaves her poem on her desk. I know for a fact she didn’t write a single word yesterday in class. And considering the events that transpired in my living room last night, I doubt she was in the right mindset to even write one. However, she appears unwavering and confident and has apparently memorized whatever it is she’s about to perform. It sort of terrifies me.

“I have a question,” she says before she begins.

Shit. What the hell could she possibly need to ask? She left so angry last night, I wouldn’t be surprised if she outs me right here and now. Hell, she’s probably about to ask me if I kick all my students out of my house after I make out with them. I nod, giving her the go-ahead for her question . . . but all I really want to do is run to the bathroom and puke.

“Is there a time minimum?”

Jesus Christ. She’s actually asking a normal question. I breathe a sigh of relief and clear my throat. “No, it’s fine. Remember, there are no rules.”

“Good,” she says. “Okay, then. My poem is called Mean.”

The blood rushes from my head and pools in my heart as soon as the title flows from her mouth. She turns toward the room and begins.

According to the thesaurus . . .

and according to me . . .

there are over thirty different meanings and substitutions for the word

mean.

(SHE RAISES HER voice and yells the rest of the poem, causing me to flinch.)

Jackass, jerk, cruel, dickhead, unkind, harsh, wicked, hateful, heartless, vicious, virulent, unrelenting, tyrannical, malevolent, atrocious, bastard, barbarous, bitter, brutal, callous, degenerate, brutish, depraved, evil, fierce, hard, implacable, rancorous, pernicious, inhumane, monstrous, merciless, inexorable.

And my personal favorite—a*shole.

MY PULSE IS pounding almost as fast as the insults are flying out of her mouth. When the bell rings, I sit stunned as most of the students make their way past my desk. I can’t believe she just did that!

“The date,” I hear Eddie saying to her. The word “date” snaps me back into the moment. “You said you’d have to ask your mom?” Eddie says. They’re standing next to Lake’s desk and Eddie has her back turned to me.

“Oh, that,” Lake says. She looks over Eddie’s shoulder and directly at me. “Yeah, sure,” she says. “Tell Nick I’d love to.”

I’ve never had a problem with my temper before, but it’s almost as if the day I met Lake, every single emotion I had was multiplied by a thousand. Happiness, hurt, anger, bitterness, love, jealousy. I’m unable to control any of it when I’m around her. The fact that she apparently had been asked out by Nick before our little incident last night somehow pisses me off even more. I glare at her, open my drawer, and shove my grade book inside it, then slam it shut. When Eddie spins around, startled at the noise, I quickly stand up and begin wiping the board.

“Great,” Eddie says, her attention back to Lake now. “Oh, and we decided on Thursday so after Getty’s we can go to the slam. We’ve only got a few weeks, might as well get it out of the way. You want us to pick you up?”

“Uh, sure,” Lake says.

Lake could have at least had the decency to agree to a date when she’s not standing five feet from me. As much as I want her to be pissed at me, I never thought I’d be pissed at her. But she seems intent on ensuring that that happens. Once Eddie leaves the classroom, I drop the eraser and turn back toward Lake. I fold my arms across my chest and watch as she gathers her things and heads toward the door, not once looking in my direction. Before she exits, I say something I regret before I even say it.

“Layken.”

She pauses when she gets to the door, but doesn’t turn around to face me.

“Your mom works Thursday nights,” I say. “I always get a sitter for Thursdays since I go to the slams. Just send Kel over before you leave. You know, before your date.”

She doesn’t turn around. She doesn’t yell. She doesn’t throw anything at me. She simply walks out the door, leaving me feeling as though I’m every single one of those names she just yelled in my classroom.

After fourth period, I sit at my desk and stare at nothing at all, wondering what the hell has gotten into me. I usually go to the teachers’ lounge for lunch, but I know I can’t eat right now. My stomach is in knots thinking about the last two hours. Actually, the last twenty-four hours.

Why would I say that to her? I know her poem stirred something in me unlike anything I’ve ever felt. It was a mixture of embarrassment, anger, hurt, and heartache. But that wasn’t enough for her—she had to go and add jealousy on top of all that. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about today, it’s that I don’t handle jealousy well. At all.

I know I thought the best way to help her get over me was to make sure she hated me, but I just can’t do it. If I want to keep my own sanity, I can’t let her hate me. I can’t let her love me, though, either. Shit! This is so screwed up. How the hell am I going to make this right?

WHEN I REACH their table in the lunchroom, she’s not even joined in on the conversation taking place around her. She’s staring down at her tray, oblivious to the world. Oblivious to me. Eddie and I both try to get her attention. When she finally snaps out of her trance and looks up at me, the color runs from her face. She slowly rises from the table and follows me to the classroom. When we’re safely inside I close the door and walk past her to my desk.

“We need to talk,” I say. My head is spinning and I have no idea what I even want to say to her. I know I want to apologize for the way I reacted earlier in class, but the words aren’t coming. I’m a grown man acting like a blubbering fourteen-year-old boy.

“Then talk,” she snaps. She’s standing across the room glaring at me. Her current attitude coupled with the fact that she just agreed to go out on a date with another guy right in front of me infuriates me. I know everything about our situation is my fault, but she’s not doing anything to help it.

“Dammit, Lake!” I spin away from her, frustrated. I run my hands through my hair and take a deep breath, then turn back to face her. “I’m not your enemy. Stop hating me.”

I swear she chuckles under her breath right before her eyes fill with fury. “Stop hating you?” she says, rushing toward me. “Make up your freaking mind, Will! Last night, you told me to stop loving you, now you’re telling me to stop hating you? You tell me you don’t want me to wait on you, yet you act like an immature little boy when I agree to go out with Nick! You want me to act like I don’t know you, but then you pull me out of the lunchroom in front of everyone! We’ve got this whole fa?ade between us, like we’re different people all the time, and it’s exhausting! I never know when you’re Will or Mr. Cooper and I really don’t know when I’m supposed to be Layken or Lake.”

She throws herself into a chair and folds her arms across her chest, letting out a rush of frustrated breath. She’s eyeing me sharply, waiting for me to say or do something. There isn’t anything to say. I can’t refute a single word she just said, because it’s the truth. The fact that I haven’t been able to keep my own feelings in check have done more damage to her than I ever imagined.

I slowly walk around her desk and sit in the seat behind her. I’m exhausted. Emotionally, physically, mentally. I never imagined it would turn into this. If I had the slightest clue that the decision to keep my job over her would have this kind of effect on me, I would have picked her, despite whatever is going on with Julia. I should have picked her. I still should pick her.

I lean forward until I’m close to her ear. “I didn’t think it would be this hard,” I whisper. And that’s the truth. Never in a million years did I think something as trivial as a first date could turn into something so incredibly complicated. “I’m sorry I said that to you earlier, about Thursday,” I say. “I was being sincere—for the most part. I know you’ll need someone to watch Kel and I did make the slam a required assignment. But I shouldn’t have reacted like that. That’s why I asked you to come here; I just needed to apologize. It won’t happen again, I swear.”

I hear her sniff, which only means she’s crying. Jesus. I keep making this worse for her when all I want to do is fix it. I lift my hand to stroke the back of her hair in reassurance when the door to my classroom opens. I immediately pull my hand back and stand up, a hasty move that reeks of guilt. Eddie is standing in the doorway to the classroom holding Lake’s backpack. She glances at me, then we both simultaneously look at Lake. Turning her head away from Eddie and toward me, I finally see the tears streaming down Lake’s cheeks. The tears I put there.

Eddie sets the backpack in a desk and holds her palms up, backing out of the doorway. “My bad. Continue,” she says.

As soon as the door is closed behind her, I begin to panic. Whatever Eddie just witnessed, it obviously wasn’t a conversation between a teacher and his student. I’ve just added yet another shit-tastic thing to my list of screw-ups.

“That’s just great,” I mumble. How the hell do I even begin to fix all of this?

Lake rises out of her seat and begins walking toward the door. “Let it go, Will. If she asks me about it, I’ll just tell her you were upset because I said a*shole. And jackass. And dickhead. And bastar—”

“I get your point,” I say, interrupting her before she can finish her stream of insults. She picks up her backpack and reaches the door.

“Layken?” I say cautiously. “I also want to say I’m sorry . . . about last night.”

She slowly turns toward me. The tears have stopped but the residual effects of her mood are still written across her face. “Are you sorry it happened? Or sorry about the way you stopped it?”

I don’t really understand what the difference is. I shrug my shoulders. “All of it. It never should have happened.”

She turns her back to me and opens the door. “Bastard.”

The insult cuts straight to my heart, right where she intended for it to hit.

As soon as the door closes behind her, I kick the desk over. “Shit!” I yell, squeezing the tension out of my neck with my hands. I let out a steady stream of cusswords as I pace the classroom. Not only have I screwed this up even worse with Lake, I’ve also screwed it up by making Eddie suspicious. I feel like I’ve somehow made this entire situation ten times worse. God, what I wouldn’t give for my father’s advice right now.

MRS. ALEX AND her pointless questions once again make me late for third period. I don’t really mind being late today, though. After the interaction in my classroom yesterday with Lake, I’m still not ready to face her.

The hallways have cleared out and I’m nearing my classroom when I pass by the windows that look out over the courtyard. I stop in my tracks and step closer to the window and I see Lake. She’s sitting on one of the benches, looking down at her hands. I’m a little confused, since she should be sitting in my classroom right now. She looks up at the sky and lets out a deep sigh, like she’s trying not to cry. It’s apparent that the last place she can be right now is two feet from me in a classroom. Seeing her out there, choosing the bitter Michigan air over my classroom, makes me hurt for her.

“She’s something else, huh?”

I spin around and Eddie is standing behind me with her arms crossed, smiling.

“What?” I say, undoubtedly trying to recover from the fact that she just caught me staring at Lake.

“You heard me,” she says, walking past me toward the courtyard entry. “And you agree with me, too.” She walks out into the courtyard without turning back. When Lake looks up at her and smiles, I walk away.

It’s not a big deal. Lake is a student skipping my class and I was looking at her. That’s all. There wasn’t anything happening there that Eddie could report. Despite my failed attempts at reassuring myself, I spend the rest of the day a nervous wreck.

12.

the honeymoon

“LET ME GET this straight,” Lake says, glaring at me. “You were being an idiot, staring at me through the courtyard window. Eddie sees you staring at me, which only piques her curiosity at this point. But then the next weekend in your living room when Eddie figured it all out, you get mad at me?”

“I wasn’t mad at you,” I say.

“Will, you were pissed! You kicked me out of your house!”

I roll over and think back to that night. “I guess I did, huh?”

“Yes, you did,” she says. “And on the worst day of my life at that.” She rolls over on top of me and interlocks her fingers with mine, bringing them over my head. “I think you owe me an apology. After all, I did clean your entire house that day.”

I look her in the eyes and she’s grinning. I know she’s not upset, but I actually do want to give her a sincere apology. The way I acted at the end of that day was purely selfish, and I’ve always regretted how I just kicked her out at one of the lowest points of her life. I bring my hands to her cheeks and pull her to the pillow next to me while we change positions. I lay her on her back and rest my head on my propped-up hand, stroking her face with my other hand. I run my fingers up her cheek, over her forehead, and down her nose until my fingers come to rest on her lips. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you that night,” I whisper, bringing my lips to hers. I kiss her slowly at first, but the sincerity in my apology is apparently quite attractive to her, because she pushes my arm away and pulls me to her, then whispers, “You’re forgiven.”

“WHAT ARE YOU doing?” I ask, waking up from a nap induced by pure exhaustion. Lake has her shirt on and is pulling her jeans up.

“I need some fresh air. Wanna come?” she says. “They’ve got a really nice pool area and it doesn’t close for another hour or so. We can sit on the patio and have coffee.”

“Yeah, sure.” I roll out of bed and search for my clothes.

Once we’re outside, the courtyard is empty, as is the pool, even though it’s heated. There are several lounge chairs, but Lake takes a seat at a table with bench-style chairs so we can sit together. She curls up next to me and rests her head against my arm, holding her coffee cup between her hands.

“I hope the boys are having fun,” she says.

“You know they are. Grandpaul took them geocaching today.”

“Good,” she says. “Kel loves that.” She brings her coffee cup to her lips and sips from it. We watch the moon’s reflection on the surface of the water, listening to the sounds of the night. It’s peaceful.

I let her. I let her thank me for a good five minutes.

When her lips finally separate from mine, she unwraps her legs from around me and grins. “That was for loving me like you do.”

She kicks off the wall and floats on her back across the pool. When she reaches the other side, she props her elbows up behind her on the concrete ledge and smiles at me from across the pool. I’m left breathless, wishing we were back in the hotel room already.

“It’s too bad you like my shirt now,” she says, still grinning mischievously.

“Why is that?”

She releases her grip on the ledge and brings her hand to the top button of her shirt. “Because,” she says in a sexy whisper. “I’m really tired of wearing it.” She unbuttons the top button, revealing the outline of her bra. As many times as I’ve seen that bra in the last twenty-four hours, it’s a whole hell of a lot sexier right now.

“Oh,” I say. As much as I want that shirt off her, we’re in the courtyard of a hotel. I look around nervously to make sure no one is out here. When I look back at her, the second button is unbuttoned and her fingers are already working on the third. She hasn’t taken her eyes off mine.

“Lake.”

“What?” she says innocently. The fourth button is undone now and she’s working on the fifth.

I slowly shake my head. “That’s not a good idea.”

She slides the shirt halfway down her shoulders, revealing the entire bra now. “Why not?”

I try to think of why it’s not a good idea, but I can’t. I can’t think. All I want to do is help her finish getting the damn shirt off. I swim across the water and ease closer to her until our faces are just inches apart. Without taking my eyes off hers, I grasp the sleeves of her shirt and pull it the rest of the way down her arms, then yank it off completely. I throw the shirt onto the concrete patio, then lower my hands to the button on her jeans. She gasps. I lean in and whisper in her ear as I slide her zipper down. “Why stop there?”

I thought I’d called her bluff, but I should know better than that. She wraps one arm around my neck and helps me pull her jeans off with her other hand. I grab her thighs and pull her flush against me, then spin us around until I’m against the ledge again. She braces her hands against the pool wall behind my head. I sink us both lower until our chins are barely above the surface of the water.

We’re pressed firmly together; the only things separating us are my jeans and her underwear, and one of these items is about to go. I slide my thumb into her waistband at the hip and begin to inch her panties down. I pull them down just far enough. “What now?” I say, moving my hand farther down as I wait for her to call retreat.

She breathes heavily against my lips as her chin submerges and re-emerges against the waves of the water. Rather than call retreat, she closes her eyes, daring me to keep going.

She gasps when I unclasp her bra with my other hand and begin to slide it off her.

“Will,” she says against my lips. “What if someone comes out here?” She covers herself with her arms when the bra is completely off.

I throw it on the concrete in the spot next to her shirt and I smile at her. “You started this. Don’t tell me you’re about to call retreat now.” I kiss her on the chin and trail a line across her jaw with my lips. She uncovers her chest and sinks lower into the water, then pulls me against her.

“Retreat is no longer in my vocabulary,” she says, finding the button on my pants.

“You two almost done here?” someone says from behind us, causing Lake to abandon her current mission. She throws her arms around me and buries her head against my neck. I glance to the left and see a hotel employee standing just inside the gated entry, his hands on his hips. “I’ve got to lock up,” he says.

“Oh, my god, oh, my god, oh, my god” she whispers. “Where the hell are my clothes?”

I laugh. “Told you it wasn’t a good idea,” I say against her ear.

I keep my arms wrapped tightly around her and look over at the man, who appears a bit too amused at our plight. “Um. Could you throw me those?” I say, pointing to Lake’s shirt and bra, which are several feet away. She’s got a death grip on my neck.

The hotel employee looks down at the clothes and chuckles, then looks back at Lake and smiles, almost as if I’m not even here. He walks through the gate and over to the edge of the pool and tosses us the shirt, not taking his eyes off her the entire time. I wrap the shirt over her shoulders and he’s still standing there, staring.

“Do you mind?” I say to him. The guy finally takes his eyes off Lake long enough to witness my glare. He clearly reads the expression on my face and turns around to head back inside.

Lake slips her shirt back on while I retrieve her pants and swim them back to her. “You’re a bad influence Mrs. Cooper,” I say.

“Hey, my plan was to stop at the shirt,” she says. “You’re the one who had other ideas.”

I let her hold on to me while I help her struggle back into her jeans. “Well, if what just happened wasn’t your intention, why did you lure me into the water to begin with?” I say.

She laughs and shakes her head. “I guess I just can’t resist those abs.”

I kiss her on the nose and swing her around onto my back, then carry her out of the pool. We leave a sopping wet trail the entire way back to our hotel room.

LAKE IS SPRAWLED across the bed on her stomach, wearing the robe I’ve fallen in love with. I’m stealing that robe before we leave here. She’s flipping through the channels on the TV with the remote, so I crawl onto the bed next to her and take the remote from her hand.

“My turn,” I say. I flip it to ESPN and she grabs the remote back from me.

“It’s my honeymoon,” she says. “I should get to watch what I want.” She turns her attention back to the TV.

“Your honeymoon? What am I? An afterthought?”

She continues to stare at the TV without responding. She glances at me, then back to the TV. After a few seconds, she shifts her gaze in my direction again and I’m still staring at her. “What’d you say?” she teases. “Were you talking?”

I grab the remote from her and press the power button, then chuck it across the room. I grab her wrists and roll her onto her back, pinning her to the bed. “Maybe you need to be reminded who wears the pants in this family.”

She laughs. “Oh, believe me, I know you wear the pants, Will. You even wear them in the bathtub, remember?”

I laugh and kiss her ear. “If I remember correctly, you wore clothes in the shower once, too.”

“Unwillingly!” She laughs.

insanity

AFTER I FINISH cooking breakfast for the boys, I walk to my bedroom and slip inside, shutting the door behind me. The last thing I need is for them to know Lake spent the night here last night.

I sit on the edge of the bed by her feet. If I were to sit any closer, I wouldn’t be able to prevent myself from reaching over and touching her or hugging her or stroking her hair. It was torture holding her last night while trying to hold back the urge to kiss away her pain. Torture. Not that I didn’t give her a light peck after I was sure she was asleep. I might have also told her I loved her after I kissed her hair.

Torture.

“Lake,” I whisper. She doesn’t move so I repeat her name. She rustles slightly, but doesn’t open her eyes. She looks so peaceful and serene right now. If I were to wake her up, reality would just hit her again. I stand up and decide to let her have a few more moments of peace. Before I leave the room, I walk to the head of the bed and lightly kiss her on the forehead.

“WHAT IF SHE loses weight?” Kel says.

“She doesn’t need to lose weight,” I say as I scoop a spoonful of eggs onto his plate. I walk back to the stove and set the pan down.

“Well, if you don’t think she’s fat and you like to kiss her, then why don’t you want her to be your girlfriend?”

I spin around and face both of the boys. “I like kissing her?” I ask, afraid of his answer. He just nods and takes a bite of his food.

“You kissed her that night you took her on that test date. Lake says you didn’t kiss her, but I saw you. She says you can get in a lot of trouble for kissing her and that I didn’t see what I thought I saw.”

“She said that?” I ask.

Caulder nods. “That’s what she told us. But Kel says he saw what he thought he saw and I believe him. Why would you get in trouble for kissing her, anyway?”

I wasn’t expecting the third degree this early in the morning. I’m too tired to turn this into a life lesson, though. After everything that happened last night and having Lake next to me in my bed, I’m pretty sure I didn’t even get an hour of sleep.

“Listen, boys,” I say, walking back to them. I place my hands on the bar and come face-to-face with them. “Sometimes, there are things in life that are out of our control. I can’t be Lake’s boyfriend and she can’t be my girlfriend. We’re not going to get married, and the two of you aren’t going to be brothers. Enjoy the fact that you get to be best friends and neighbors.”

“Is it because you’re a teacher?” Caulder asks pointedly.

I drop my head in my hands. They’re relentless. And intuitive.

“Yes,” I say, exasperated. “Yes. It’s because I’m a teacher. Teachers cannot ask their students to be their girlfriends and vice versa. So Lake isn’t going to be my girlfriend. I’m not going to be her boyfriend. We aren’t going to get married. Ever. Now drop it.” I walk back to the stove and place lids on all the pans to keep the food warm. I don’t know when Lake will wake up, but I need to get these boys fed and out of this house before she walks out of my bedroom. How in hell would I explain to them that teachers and students can’t date, but they can sleep in the same bed.

AFTER BREAKFAST COMES and goes and she’s still asleep, I walk the boys over to Julia’s. Kel and Caulder rush in, but I feel inclined to knock on the door so I lag behind. When Julia opens the door, she shields her eyes from the sun and looks away.

“Sorry. Did I wake you up?”

She steps aside to let me in and shakes her head. “I don’t think I’ve even slept,” she says. She walks back into the living room, so I follow and sit on the sofa. “How is she?”

I shrug. “Still asleep. She hasn’t come out of the bedroom since she got there last night.”

Julia nods and leans back into the couch, then rubs her hands on her face. “She’s scared, Will. She was so scared when I told her. I knew she would take it badly, but not like this. I wasn’t expecting this reaction at all. I need her to be strong when we tell Kel, but I can’t tell him when she’s this emotional.”

“It’s only been seven months since her dad died, Julia. Losing a parent is hard, but the possibility of losing both of them at her age is incomprehensible.”

“Yeah,” she whispers. “I guess you would know.”

She still doesn’t seem convinced that Lake’s reaction is normal. Everyone reacts differently to devastating news. I didn’t even cry right away when I found out my parents died, but that’s not to say it wasn’t the worst moment of my life.

I was on my way to a game when I got the phone call. I was the emergency contact on their records. The person on the other line was telling me there was an accident and I needed to get to the hospital in Detroit. They wouldn’t tell me anything, no matter how much I begged. I tried calling my parents cell phones several times but never got an answer. I called my grandparents to tell them about the accident, since they were just minutes from the hospital. That was one of the hardest phone calls I’ve ever had to make.

I drove as fast as I could, holding my cell phone in my hand against the steering wheel, keeping a constant eye on it. All I could think of was Caulder. I just knew something terrible had happened and that my parents weren’t answering their phones because they wanted to tell me in person.

When an hour passed and even my grandparents still hadn’t called, I tried their phone for the fifth time. They weren’t answering, either. I think it was after the sixth time I called them and they pushed it through to voicemail that I knew.

My parents. Caulder. All of them. They were all dead.

I pulled up to the emergency room and rushed inside. The first thing I saw was my grandmother doubled over in a chair, crying.

No, she wasn’t crying. She was wailing. My grandfather had his back to me, but his shoulders were shaking. His entire body was shaking. I stood there and watched them for several minutes, wondering who these people were in front of me. These strong, independent people I had admired and respected and thought the world of. These people that could be broken by nothing.

Yet, here they were. Broken and weak. The only thing that can break the unbreakable is the unthinkable. I knew the moment I saw them alone in the waiting room that my worst fears were confirmed.

They were all dead.

I turned around and I walked out. I didn’t want to be in there. I had to go outside. I couldn’t breathe. When I reached the grass across from the parking lot, I fell to my knees. I didn’t cry. Instead, I became physically ill. Over and over, my stomach repelling the truth that I refused to believe. When there was nothing left in me, I fell backward onto the grass and stared up at the sky, the stars staring back at me. Millions of stars staring back at the whole world. A world where parents die and brothers die and nothing stops to respect that fact. The whole universe just goes and goes as if nothing has happened, even when one person’s entire life is forced to a complete halt.

I closed my eyes and thought about him. It had been two weeks since I had spoken to him on the phone. I had promised him I’d come up the next weekend to take him to his football game. That was the same weekend Vaughn begged me not to go. She said midterms were in two weeks and we needed to spend time together before then. So, I called Caulder and canceled my trip. That was the last time I had talked to him.

The last time I would ever talk to him.

“Will?”

I looked up after hearing my grandfather’s voice and he was standing over me, looking down. “Will, are you okay?” he asked, wiping fresh tears from his defeated eyes. I hated seeing that look in his eyes.

I didn’t move. I just lay there in the grass, looking up at him, not wanting him to say anything else. I didn’t want to hear it.

“Will . . . they . . .”

“I know,” I said quickly, not wanting to hear the words come out of his mouth.

He nodded and looked away. “Your grandmother wants . . .”

“I know,” I said louder.

“Maybe you should come . . .”

“I don’t want to.”

And I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to set foot back inside that hospital. Back inside the building that now housed the three of them. Lifeless.

“Will, you need to come . . .”

“I don’t want to!” I screamed.

My grandfather—my poor grandfather just nodded and sighed. What else could he have done? What else could he have said? My entire life had just been ripped from me and I wasn’t about to listen to reassurances from nurses or doctors or clergymen or even my grandparents. I didn’t want to hear it.

My grandfather hesitantly took a few steps away from me, leaving me alone in the grass. Before heading back inside, he turned around one last time.

“It’s just that Caulder has been asking for you. He’s scared. So when you’re ready . . .”

I immediately snapped my head in his direction. “Caulder?” I said. “Caulder’s not . . .”

My grandfather immediately shook his head. “No, son. No. Caulder’s fine.”

It wasn’t until those words came out of his mouth that everything hit me all at once. My chest swelled and the heat rose to my face, then my eyes. I pulled my hands to my forehead and I rolled onto my knees, my elbows buried in the grass, and I completely lost it. Sounds came from deep within me that I didn’t even know I was capable of. I cried harder than I’ve ever cried before—harder than I’ve cried since. I sat on the lawn of that hospital and I cried tears of joy, because Caulder was okay.

“Are you okay?” Julia asks, breaking me out of my trance.

I nod, trying to push back the memories of that day. “I’m fine.”

She readjusts her position on the couch and sighs. “I don’t want her to have to raise Kel,” she says. “Lake needs the chance to live her own life. I’d never burden her like that.”

“Julia,” I say, speaking confidently from experience, “it would burden her not to have him.” Not having the choice to raise Kel would kill Lake. Just like it killed me when I thought I’d lost Caulder. It would absolutely devastate her.

Julia doesn’t respond, indicating I may have crossed my boundaries with that comment. We both sit quietly on the couch for a while. I feel like neither of us has anything else to say, so I stand up.

“I’ll take the boys somewhere this afternoon. I’ll make sure Layken wakes up before I go so you guys will have time to talk.”

“Thank you,” she says, smiling a genuine smile at me. It feels good. I respect Julia’s opinion and having her disappointed in me feels almost as bad as when Lake is disappointed in me.

I nod, then turn and leave. I make my way back inside the house and back into the bedroom where Lake is still sleeping. I ease onto the bed at her side and take a seat.

“Lake,” I whisper, trying to wake her successfully this time.

She doesn’t move, so I pull the covers off her head. She groans and pulls them back up.

“Lake, wake up.”

She kicks her legs, then throws the covers off. It’s well past lunchtime and she acts like she could sleep twelve more hours. She opens her eyes and squints, then finds me sitting next to her. She’s got mascara smeared underneath her eyes, some of which is still on my pillowcase. Her hair is in disarray. Her ponytail holder is on the sheet beside her. She looks like hell. A beautiful hell.

“You really aren’t a morning person,” I say.

She sits up on the bed. “Bathroom. Where’s your bathroom?”

I point to the bathroom across the hall and watch as she leaps off the bed and darts for the door. She’s definitely awake now, but I can almost guarantee she needs coffee.

I go to the kitchen and make us both a cup. When she comes out of the bathroom I take a seat and place her coffee next to me.

“What time is it?”

“One-thirty.”

“Oh,” she says, shocked. “Well . . . your bed’s really comfortable.”

I smile and nudge her shoulder. “Apparently.”

We drink our coffee and she doesn’t say anything else. I have no idea where her head is at, so I remain silent, allowing her to think. When we finish our coffee, I put the cups in the sink and tell her I’m taking the boys to a matinee. “We’re leaving in a few minutes. I’ll probably take them to dinner afterward, so we’ll be back around six. Should give you and your mom time to talk.”

She frowns at me. “What if I don’t want to talk? What if I want to go to a matinee?”

I lean forward across the bar. “You don’t need to watch a movie. You need to talk to your mom. Let’s go.” I grab my keys and jacket and head toward the front door.

She kicks back in her chair and folds her arms across her chest. “I just woke up. The caffeine hasn’t even kicked in yet. Can I stay here for a while?”

She’s practically pouting, her bottom lip sticking out, pleading with me. I stare at her mouth a beat too long. I think she notices, because she pulls on her bottom lip with her teeth and her cheeks flush. I shake my head slightly, pulling my gaze away from her mouth.

“Fine,” I say, snapping out of my trance. I walk over to her and kiss her on the forehead. “But not all day. You need to talk to her.” I walk away, fully aware of the fact that the forehead kiss was probably crossing the line. However, the fact that she slept in my bed last night has already muddied the waters. The line isn’t so black and white anymore. I’m pretty sure gray just became my new favorite color.

IT’S BEEN OVER five hours since I left with the boys, so Lake and Julia probably have had a chance to sort everything out. I tell Kel to stay the night with me to give them more time to adjust. I unlock the front door and follow the boys into the living room. We all come to a halt, not expecting to find Lake on my living room floor. There are dozens of white index cards sprawled out in front of her.

What the hell is she doing?

“What are you doing?” Caulder says, verbalizing my exact thoughts.

“Alphabetizing,” she replies without looking up.

“Alphabetizing what?” I say.

“Everything. First I did the movies, then I did the CDs. Caulder, I did the books in your room. I did a few of your games, but some of those started with numbers so I put the numbers first, then the titles.” I point to the piles in front of me. “These are recipes. I found them on top of the fridge. I’m alphabetizing them by category first; like beef, lamb, pork, poultry. Then behind the categories I’m alphabetizing them by—”

“Guys, go to Kel’s. Let Julia know you’re back,” I say, without looking at them.

The boys don’t move. They continue to stare at Lake. “Now!” I yell. They listen this time, opening the door and disappearing outside.

I slowly walk to the couch and sit down. I’m afraid to say anything. Something is off. She seems so . . . chipper.

“You’re the teacher,” she says. She looks at me and winks. “Should I put ‘Baked Potato Soup’ behind potato or soup?”

What the hell? She’s in denial. Intense denial.

“Stop,” I say. I’m not returning her smile. I don’t know what happened with her mom today, but whatever is going on with her needs to stop. She needs to confront this.

“I can’t stop, silly. I’m halfway finished. If I stop now you won’t know where to find . . .” She picks up a random card off the floor. “Jerk Chicken?”

I glance around the living room and notice the DVDs have all been arranged next to my television. I stand and slowly walk to the kitchen, eyeing the surroundings. Did she clean the damn baseboards? I knew I shouldn’t have left her today. Good God, I bet she cleaned the entire house and never even went to talk to her mother. I walk to my bedroom and my bed is made. Not only is it made; it’s perfect. I hesitate before opening my closet door, afraid of what I might find. My shoes have all been rearranged. My shirts have all been moved to the right side of the closet and my pants are on the left. The way they’re hung, their colors move from light to dark.

She color-coded my closet? I’m afraid to complete the inspection. There’s no telling what all she did to this house. She probably left nothing untouched.

Shit. I rush to the bed and open the nightstand. I pull the book out and open it, but the receipt for her chocolate milk doesn’t look like it’s been touched. I breathe a sigh of relief, glad she didn’t see it, then put the book back where it was. How embarrassing would that have been?

I walk back into the living room, more aware of the spotless condition of my house than before. She’s been a little too busy, which can only mean one thing. She’s still avoiding her mother.

“You color-coded my closet?” I say. I’m glaring at her from the hallway entrance. She shrugs and smiles, like this is any other day.

“Will, it wasn’t that hard. You wear, like, three different color shirts.” When she giggles, it makes me wince. She has to stop this. Her denial isn’t good for her, and it certainly isn’t going to be good for Kel when Julia tells him. I walk swiftly across the room and bend down to snatch up the cards. We’re about to have a serious sit-down.

“Will! Stop! That took me a long time!” She begins to grab the cards as I pick them up. I realize we aren’t getting anywhere, so I throw down the cards and try to pull her up off the floor. I need her to look me in the eyes and calm down.

That doesn’t happen.

She actually starts kicking at me. She’s literally kicking me. She’s acting like a damn child.

“Let me go!” she yells. “I’m . . . not . . . done!”

I let go of her hands as she asked, and she falls back to the floor. I walk to the kitchen and grab an empty pitcher from under the sink and fill it up with water. I know I’ll regret this, but she needs to snap out of it. I walk back to the living room and she doesn’t even acknowledge me. I extend my arm and flip the pitcher upside down on top of her head.

“What the hell!” she screams. She throws her hands up in shock, then looks up at me with pure hatred. I realize once she lunges at me that perhaps this wasn’t the best idea. Not enough water, maybe?

When she stands up and tries to hit me, I grab her arm and wrap it behind her back, then move behind her while I push her toward the bathroom. Once we’re inside, I wrap my arms around her and forcefully pick her up. There’s no other way to do it. She’s doing her best to attack me and she’s almost succeeding. I hold her against the wall of the shower with one arm and turn the water on with the other. As soon as the water splashes across her face, she gasps.

“Jerk! Jackass! A*shole!”

I adjust the faucet and look her in the eyes. “Take a shower, Layken! Take a damn shower!” I release my hold and back away from her. When I shut the bathroom door, I hold the doorknob in case she tries to get out. Sure enough, she tries.

“Let me out, Will! Now!” She beats on the door and jiggles the knob.

“Layken, I’m not letting you out of the bathroom until you take off your clothes, get in the shower, wash your hair, and calm down.”

I continue to hold the doorknob until I hear the shower curtain close a minute later. When I’m confident she isn’t going to try to get out again, I put my shoes on and walk across the street to grab her some extra clothes.

“Is she okay?” Julia asks as soon as she opens the door. She motions behind her to let me know Kel and Caulder can hear our conversation.

“A little too okay,” I whisper. “She’s acting strange. Did you guys talk today?”

Julia nods, but doesn’t elaborate. It’s obvious she doesn’t want to risk being overheard by Kel. “She’s in the shower. I came to get her a change of clothes,” I say, skirting the subject.

Julia nods and steps aside, then walks toward the kitchen. “You can grab some out of her bedroom. Last door on the right,” she says. “I’m in the middle of washing dishes.” She returns to the sink and I hesitate, a little uncomfortable at the thought of going into Lake’s bedroom.

I walk down the hallway and slowly open her door. When I do, it’s not what I expect. I don’t know if I thought it would be a typical teenager’s bedroom, but I’m pleasantly surprised that there aren’t posters on the walls and black lights on the ceiling. It’s surprisingly mature for an eighteen-year-old. I walk to her dresser and pull the top drawer open, removing a tank top. When I open the next drawer to look for pants, I’m met with a drawer full of bras and panties. I feel somewhat guilty, knowing that she has no idea I’m in her room right now. I tell myself to just grab a pair and shut the drawer, but I begin scrolling through all of the contents, imaging what they would look like on her.

Dammit, Will! I grab a pair on top and slam the drawer shut, then search until I find some pajama bottoms. When I shut the last drawer, the tank top falls out of my hands and lands on the floor. I bend over to pick it up and a barrette catches my eye. It looks like a child’s hair barrette. I pick it up and hold it between my fingers, curious why she would keep something so old.

“She used to think it was magic,” Julia says from the doorway. I whip my head around, startled by her voice.

“This?” I say, holding up the barrette.

Julia nods, then walks into the bedroom and sits on the bed. “When she was a little girl her dad walked in right after she had cut a huge chunk of her bangs off. She was crying, scared I would be mad at her, so he brushed some hair over and snapped the clip in place. He told her it was magic and that as long as she kept that clip in her hair, I wouldn’t notice.”

I laugh, trying to imagine Lake with a chunk of her bangs missing. “I guess you noticed?”

Julia laughs. “Oh, it was so obvious. Horribly obvious. She cut a three-inch strip right out of the front of her hair. Her dad called to warn me and told me not to say anything. It was so hard. It took her hair months to grow back out and she looked ridiculous. But I couldn’t say anything because every single day she woke up, the first thing she did was put that clip in her hair so I wouldn’t know.”

“Wow,” I say. “She was strong-willed even then, huh?”

Julia smiles. “You have no idea. I’ve never met a person with a more indomitable will in my life.”

I bend down and put the clip back where I found it, then turn back to Julia. She’s looking down at her hands, picking at her nails. She looks just like Lake right now, but somehow even sadder.

“She hates me right now, Will. She doesn’t understand where I’m coming from. She wants Kel, but I don’t know if I can do that to her.”

I don’t even know if it’s my place to be giving her advice, but she seems to be soliciting it. I just know I’ve been in Lake’s shoes, and nothing could have stopped me from taking Caulder from my grandparents’ house that night.

I tuck Lake’s clothes underneath my arm and head to the door, then turn back toward Julia. “Maybe you should try to understand where she’s coming from. Kel is the only thing she’ll have left. The only thing. And right now, she feels like you’re trying to take that away from her, too.”

Julia looks up at me. “I’m not trying to take him away from her. I just want her to be happy.”

Happy?

“Julia,” I say. “Her father just died. You’re about to die. She’s eighteen and she’s facing a lifetime without the two people she loves the most. Nothing you can do will make her happy. Her world is being ripped out from under her and she has absolutely no control over it. The least you could do is let her have a little bit of say-so over the only thing she’ll have left. Because I can tell you from experience . . . Caulder is the only thing that kept me going. Your taking Kel away from her because you think it’ll improve her situation? It’s the absolute worst thing you could do to either of them.”

Fearing I’ve overstepped my bounds again, I walk out of the bedroom and make my way back across the street.

I OPEN THE door to the bathroom and slip inside. I set the clothes and a towel down on the counter, then glance up to the mirror. It’s mostly fogged over, but clear enough that I can see the shower in the reflection. There’s a section a few inches wide where the wall should meet the shower curtain, but it’s pulled slightly back. Lake’s foot is propped up against the porcelain tub and she’s shaving her legs. She’s using my razor.

And my shower.

And her clothes are on the floor, next to my feet. Not on her. She’s three feet from me without her clothes on.

It’s one of the worst days of her life and I’m sitting here thinking about how she’s not wearing anything. Ass-hole.

If I had any semblance of a decent conscious at all, I’d have never allowed her into my house last night to begin with. Now I’m watching the razor glide up her ankle, praying she’s too upset to go home for at least one more night.

Just one more night. I’m not ready to let her go.

I quietly back out of the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I head straight to the kitchen sink and splash water on my face.

I grip the edge of the counter and take a deep breath, preparing my earth-shattering apology for when she comes storming out of the bathroom. She’s so pissed at me right now for yelling at her and throwing her into the shower. I don’t blame her. I’m sure there was an easier way I could have calmed her down.

“I need a towel!” she yells from the bathroom. I walk to the edge of the hallway.

“It’s on the sink. So are your clothes.” I go back to the living room and sit on the couch in a lame attempt to appear casual. Maybe if I don’t seem so pissed anymore, she’ll remain calm.

God, I can’t stand the thought of her being mad at me for another day. The day she recited her poem in class was probably the hardest knock my heart has ever taken from a girl . . . and it happened in front of seventeen other students. I realize none of them knew I was her target, other than Gavin, but still. It felt like I’d taken over thirty bullets straight to the heart with each insult that came out of her mouth.

The door to the bathroom begins to open and my attempt at casual goes out the window. I jump over the back of the couch, wanting nothing more than to hold her and apologize for everything I did tonight.

When she sees me rushing toward her, her eyes grow big and she backs up to the wall. I wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tight. “I’m sorry, Lake. I’m so sorry I did that. You were just losing it,” I say in my best attempt to excuse my actions. Rather than try to hit me, she wraps her arms around my neck, causing my chest to tighten as I attempt to hold on to my willpower before it slips away from me again.

“It’s okay,” she says softly. “I kinda sorta had a bad day.”

I want nothing more than to stifle her words with my mouth right now. I want to tell her how much I need her. How much I love her. How, no matter how bad things get for her, I’ll be by her through every second of it.

But I don’t. Because of Julia, I don’t. I reluctantly pull back and place my arms on her shoulders.

“So we’re friends? You aren’t gonna try to punch me again?”

“Friends,” she says with a forced smile. I can tell she wants to be my friend about as much as I want to be hers. I have to turn away from her and head down the hallway before the words “I love you” fall helplessly from my mouth.

“How was the matinee?” she asks from behind me.

I can’t make small talk. We need to get to the heart of why she’s here, or I’m going to forget she’s not here for me.

“Did you talk to your mom?” I ask.

“Jeez. Deflect much?”

“Did you talk to her? Please don’t tell me you spent the entire day cleaning.” I continue into the kitchen and grab two glasses. She takes a seat at the bar.

“No. Not the entire day. We talked.”

“And?” I ask.

“And . . . she has cancer.”

Damn that indomitable will.

I roll my eyes at her stubbornness and walk to the refrigerator, removing the milk. When I begin to pour it into her glass, she turns away from the bar and flips her head over, then pulls the towel off her head. Her hair falls around her and she brushes at the tangles with her fingers. She smoothes out the strands, working her fingers through them delicately. What I wouldn’t give to touch—crap! I realize, just as she glances up, that I’ve poured way too much milk. It’s trickling down my hand and onto the counter. I quickly wipe it up with a hand towel.

Please tell me she didn’t see that.

I grab the powdered chocolate out of the cabinet and a spoon, then stir some chocolate into her cup. “Will she be okay?”

“No. Probably not.”

I should know better than to ask close-ended questions with her. But I haven’t asked Julia any details and I’m curious.

“But she’s getting treatment?”

She rolls her eyes and looks incredibly annoyed. “She’s dying, Will. Dying. She’ll probably be dead within the year, maybe less than that. They’re just doing chemo to keep her comfortable. While she dies. ’Cause she’ll be dead. Because she’s dying. There. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Her response sends a surge of guilt through me. I’m doing the exact thing to her that I hated having done to me. Forcing her to talk about something she hasn’t even accepted yet. I decide to drop it. She’ll come to this on her own terms. I walk to the freezer and grab a handful of ice, then drop it into her cup, sliding it across the counter to her. “On the rocks.”

She looks down at the chocolate milk and smiles. “Thanks,” she says. She finishes her drink in silence.

When the glass is empty, she stands up from the bar and walks to the living room. She lies down on the floor and stretches her arms above her head.

“Turn the lights off,” she says. “I just want to listen for a while.”

I turn out the lights, then walk to where she is and lower myself onto the floor beside her. She’s quiet, but the stress radiates from her.

“She doesn’t want me to raise Kel,” she whispers. “She wants to give him to Brenda.”

I inhale a deep breath, understanding completely where her pain is coming from. I reach out across the floor until I find her hand and I hold it, wanting more than anything for her to know she’s not alone in this.

MY EYES SNAP open at the sound of Eddie’s voice. I sit up on the floor, shocked that I even fell asleep, and see Lake watching Eddie walk out the door.

Shit! Shit, shit, shit! What the hell was Eddie doing in my house? Why would Lake even let her in? I’m getting fired. That’s it. I’m done.

After the door closes behind Eddie, Lake turns around and sees me sitting up on the floor. She purses her lips and tries to smile, but she knows I’m not happy.

“What the hell was she doing here?”

She shrugs. “Visiting,” she mutters. “Checking on me.”

She has no idea what kind of jeopardy she just put my entire career in!

“Dammit, Layken!” I push myself off the floor and throw my hands in the air, defeated. “Are you trying to get me fired? Are you that selfish that you don’t give a crap about anyone else’s problems? Do you know what would happen if she let it get out that you spent the night here?”

Lake’s eyes dart down to the floor.

Oh, god. She knows. Eddie already knows.

I take a step closer to her and she glances up at me again. “Does she know you spent the night here?” I demand. She looks down at her lap. “Layken, what does she know?”

She doesn’t look at me, which answers my question.

“Christ, Layken. Go home.”

She nods, then walks to the door. She slips her shoes on and pauses before she leaves, looking at me apologetically. I’m standing in the middle of the living room with my hands clasped behind my head, watching her. As mad as I am right now, it hurts to let her go. I know she needs me, but there’s so much we both need to process at this point. Besides, she needs to be home with her mother. Being here instead of at her own house isn’t helping her confront her situation at all.

A tear rolls down her cheek and she quickly turns away.

“Lake,” I say softly, dropping my hands to my sides. I can’t let her leave with the added stress of my outburst lingering in her mind. I walk to the door where she’s standing and reach down and touch her fingers, then take her hand in mine. She allows me to hold her hand, but she doesn’t face me again. She keeps one hand on the front door and sniffs, her head still focused on the floor.

This girl. In love with the boy she can’t have. Grieving the death of her father, only to find out she’s about to grieve the death of the only adult left in her life? This girl who’s being told she can’t keep the only family member she has left? I squeeze her hand and rub my thumb over hers. She slowly turns to meet my eyes. Seeing the pain behind them and knowing that a lot of it is because of me reminds me of all the reasons I need to let her go.

Her mother.

My career.

Her reputation.

Mine and Caulder’s future.

Her future.

Doing the right thing. The responsible thing.

Out of all the reasons I can come up with for her to go, there’s only one reason I can come up with for her to stay. I love her. This one reason for her to stay is the only reason that derives from pure selfishness. If I continue whatever this is with her, it’ll be completely selfish of me. I’ll be putting everything I’ve worked for and everyone I love at risk, just to fulfill my own desires.

I drop her hand. “Go home, Layken. She needs you.”

I turn around.

I walk away.

14.

the honeymoon

I’M HOLDING HER hand now and I have no intentions of letting her walk out of my life again.

Lake can see the regret I have over that night, so she takes my face in her hands and smiles reassuringly at me. “You do realize you are the most selfless person I know, right?”

I shake my head. “Lake, I’m not selfless. I put so much at risk every time I was around you, but I still couldn’t control myself. It’s like I couldn’t breathe unless I was near you.”

“You are not selfish. We were in love. Really in love. You warred with yourself to do the right thing and that says so much about your character. I respect you for that, Will Cooper.”

I knew I married her for a reason. I grab the back of her neck and pull her forehead toward mine and kiss it.

She lays her head on my chest and wraps her arm around me. “Besides, there’s no way you could have been perfect the whole time we were forced apart,” she says. “It’s just too hard to not love me, considering how irresistible I am.”

I laugh and flip her off me and onto her back. “You got that right,” I say, tickling her ribs. I try to straddle her and pin her down, but she squirms beneath me and somehow breaks free, scooting off the bed. I grab her wrist and she pulls back, yanking me forward. She turns and tries to break free but trips over the desk chair. I grab her waist just as she falls to the floor, then I slide on top of her and pin her wrists to the carpet.

“See how irresistible I am?” She laughs. “You won’t even let me off the butterflying bed without you!”

My eyes drink in every inch of her from head to toe. “Maybe if you’d put on some clothes I’d feel less inclined to attack you.”

She pulls one of her hands from mine and reaches to the chair above her head where her robe landed earlier. “Fine,” she says, yanking it off the chair. “I’ll wear this until we leave tomorrow.”

I grab the robe from her hands and toss it behind me. “The hell you will. I told you what you were allowed to wear on this honeymoon, and that robe wasn’t on the list.”

“Well, everything that was on the list is sort of soaking wet, thanks to you.”

I laugh. “That’s only inconvenient for anyone who isn’t me.” As soon as I kiss her, she finds the one spot on my stomach that’s ticklish and she attacks. I’m immediately off her, trying to get away from her hands. I hop back onto the bed and she jumps on top of me. Once I realize she has me pinned to the bed, I immediately give up and let her win.

Who wouldn’t?

“Fun should have been the fourth thing on my mom’s list,” she says, dropping herself beside me, breathless from the effort she spent trying to attack me. I cock my eyebrow, curious about what list she’s referring to. She sees I’m not following, so she elaborates. “She said there were three things every woman should look for in a man. Having fun with him wasn’t on the list, but I think it should be.” She sits up and scoots back to the headboard. “Tell me about a fun time. A happy time. I need a break from all the sad memories for a while.”

I think back to the months after we first met, and struggle to come up with a positive one. “It’s hard, Lake. There were happy moments, but not really happy times. There was so much heartache under the surface of that entire year.”

“Then tell me one of your happy moments.”

carving pumpkins

IT’S ALMOST FIVE, so after I unload the groceries I walk across the street to get Caulder. Julia and Lake need to talk, so I think I’ll offer to take Kel for a while, too. Before I knock, I take a deep breath and prepare for whatever reaction Lake might have. I gave her detention today so I could talk to her and Eddie, then I just left her and Eddie a blubbering mess in my classroom. I’m not sure if she’s pissed at me right now but I felt like I needed to make a point, which is the only reason I did it. Whether or not Lake got my point, I guess I’m about to find out.

When the door opens, I’m shocked to see Caulder. “Hey, buddy. You answering doors here now?”

He smiles and grabs my hand, pulling me inside. “We’re carving pumpkins for Halloween. Come on, Julia bought one for you, too.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll carve mine another time. I just wanted to bring you home so they can have some family time.”

I look up to see the four of them sitting at the bar carving pumpkins. I know Lake hasn’t had a chance to talk with Julia, since she had to have just gotten home, so I’m a little confused at the serene family appearing in front of me.

Julia pulls out a chair and pats it, indicating she wants me to stay. “Sit down, Will. We’re just carving pumpkins tonight. That’s all we’re doing. Just carving pumpkins.”

It’s obvious from her tone that Lake must have told her she doesn’t want to talk about it again. That doesn’t surprise me. “Okay, then. I guess we’re carving pumpkins.” I sit in the chair Julia pulled out for me, directly across from Lake. We glance at each other as I take my seat. Her expression is soft but not very telling. I don’t know how she feels about what I said during detention today, but if her expression is any indication, she doesn’t seem angry. She almost seems apologetic.

“Why were you so late getting home today, Layken?” Kel asks. I glance away just as Lake snaps her head in his direction. I focus my attention on the pumpkin in front of me.

“Eddie and I had detention,” she says matter-of-factly.

“Detention? What were you in detention for?” Julia asks.

I can feel the blood pooling in my cheeks.

Lie to her, Lake.

“We skipped class last week, took a nap in the courtyard.”

That’s my girl. I silently let out a sigh of relief.

“Lake, why would you do something like that? What class did you skip?” Julia asks, obviously disappointed. Lake doesn’t respond, which causes me to look up. She and Julia are both staring at me.

“She skipped my class!” I laugh. “What was I supposed to do?”

Julia laughs and pats me on the back. “I’m buying you supper for that.”

I WALK TO the door with Julia when the pizza arrives and take it from the delivery guy while she pays him. I set it on the counter and make the boys a plate.

“I want to try this suck and sweet Kel keeps telling me about,” Julia says after we all sit down. Lake looks up at her, confused about what “suck and sweet” is, but she doesn’t ask for an explanation.

“Good idea, I’ll go first. Show you guys how it’s done,” I say. I take a sip of my drink and start with my suck.

“Mrs. Alex was my suck today,” I say.

“Who’s Mrs. Alex and why was she your suck?” Julia asks.

“She’s the secretary, and . . . let’s just say she favors me. Today I had to go turn in my absentee reports. We always place them in our boxes before the end of the day and Mrs. Alex collects them all in order to enter them into the system. When I looked at my name on my box, there were two purple hearts doodled over the Os in my last name. Mrs. Alex is the only one who writes with purple ink.”

Lake and Julia both burst out laughing. “Mrs. Alex has a crush on you?” Lake says, laughing. “She’s . . . old. And married!”

I smile and nod, a little embarrassed. I try to turn my focus back to Julia, but seeing Lake finally laughing is captivating. It’s amazing how one smile from her can shift the mood of my entire day. Lake sighs and leans back in her chair. “So are you supposed to say a ‘sweet’ now? Is that how this works?”

I nod, unable to look away from her. Her smile meets her eyes, and even though I know she has a lot to deal with in the coming days, I feel a sense of relief just seeing her happiness break through, if only for a moment. The fact that she can still find something positive in her current situation reassures me that she’ll be okay.

“My sweet?” I say, staring directly at her. “My sweet is right now.”

For a moment, it’s just the two of us in the room. I don’t hear or think about or acknowledge anyone else around us. She smiles at me and I smile back and neither of us breaks our stare. It’s as if a silent truce occurs between us and all is suddenly right in our little two-person world.

Julia clears her throat and leans forward. “Okay, I think we know how to play now,” she says, interrupting our moment. I glance at Julia and she’s looking at the boys. “Kel, you go next,” Julia says, pretending not to have noticed my and Lake’s little “moment.” I watch Kel, forcing myself to avoid looking at Lake again. If I do, I won’t be able to stop myself from jumping over the bar and kissing her.

“My suck is that I still can’t think of what to be for Halloween,” Kel says. “My sweet is that Will agreed to take us geocaching again this weekend.”

“I’m taking you geocaching?” This is the first I’ve heard of it.

“You are?” Kel says sarcastically. “Aww, gee, Will. That sounds like fun! I’d love to go geocaching this weekend.”

I laugh and look over at Caulder. “Your turn.”

He nudges his head toward Kel. “Same thing,” he says.

“That’s a copout,” Julia says to Caulder. “You have to be original.”

Caulder rolls his eyes. “Fine,” he groans, setting down his pizza. “My suck today is that my best friend’s suck is that he can’t think of what he wants to be for Halloween. My sweet is that my best friend’s sweet is that Will agreed to take us geocaching this weekend.”

“You’re such a smart-ass,” I say to Caulder.

“My turn,” Julia says. “My sweet today is that we got to carve pumpkins together.” She leans back in her chair and smiles at all of us. I glance at Lake and she’s staring down at her hands, folded in front of her on the table. She’s picking at her nail polish, something I noticed she does when she’s stressed, just like Julia. I know she’s thinking what I’m thinking. That this is more than likely Julia’s last time to carve pumpkins. Lake brings her hand to her eyes and it looks like she’s trying to stop a tear from falling. I quickly turn to Julia to remove any focus from Lake.

“What’s your suck?” I ask.

Julia continues to watch Lake when she responds. “My suck is the same as my sweet,” Julia says quietly. “We’re still carving pumpkins.”

I’m beginning to understand that “carving pumpkins” has taken on a whole new meaning. Lake immediately stands up and grabs empty plates off the bar, completely ignoring her mother’s gaze.

“My suck is that it’s my night to do dishes,” Lake says. She walks to the sink and turns on the water. Kel and Caulder begin discussing Halloween costumes again, so Julia and I help throw out a few ideas.

No one ever asks Lake what her sweet is.

15.

the honeymoon

“I DID HAVE a sweet that night,” she says. “Remember the conversation we had when we took the trash out? When you told me about the first time you saw me?”

I nod.

“That was my sweet. Having that moment with you. All the little moments I got with you were always my sweets.” She kisses me on the forehead.

“That was my sweet, too,” I say. “That and the intense stare you gave me while we were playing suck and sweet.”

She laughs. “If you only knew what I was thinking.”

I cock my eyebrow at her. “Naughty thoughts?”

“As soon as you said ‘My sweet is right now,’ ” I wanted to jump across the bar and ravish you,” she says.

I laugh. I never would have thought we were both thinking the exact same thing. “I wonder what your mom would have done if we had both attacked each other, right there on the bar.”

“She would have kicked your ass,” she says. She rolls onto her side and faces the other direction. “Spoon me,” she says. I scoot closer to her and slide my arm underneath her head, wrapping my other arm tightly around her. She yawns a deep yawn into her pillow. “Tell me about The Lake. I want to know why you wrote it.”

I kiss her hair and rest my head on her pillow. “I wrote it the next night. After we had basagna with your mom,” I say. “When we all sat around the table that night and discussed how things with the boys were going to be handled during her treatments, I realized that you had done it. You were doing exactly what I wished my parents had done before they died. You were taking responsibility. You were preparing for the inevitable. You were facing death head-on, and you were doing it without fear.” I put my leg over her legs and tuck her in closer to me. “Every time I was around you, you inspired me to write. And I didn’t want to write about anything but you.”

She tilts her head back toward me. “That was on the list,” she says.

“Your mom’s list?”

“Yeah. ‘Does he inspire you?’ is one of the questions.”

“Do I inspire you?”

“Every single day,” she whispers.

I kiss her forehead. “Well, like I said, you inspired me, too. I knew I already loved you long before then, but that night at dinner something just clicked inside me. It’s like every time we were together, all was right with the world. I had assumed, just like your mom did, that staying apart would help you focus on her, but we were both wrong. I knew that the only way either of us could have been truly happy is if we were together. I wanted you to wait for me. I wanted you to wait for me so bad, but I didn’t know how to tell you without crossing some sort of boundary.

“The next night at the slam when I saw you walk in, I couldn’t stop myself from performing that piece so you would hear it. I knew it was wrong, but I wanted you to know how much I thought about you. How much I really did love you.”

She rolls over and scowls at me. “What do you mean when you saw me walk in? You said you didn’t know I was there until you saw me leaving.”

I shrug. “I lied.”

the lake

AS SOON AS I step up to the microphone, I see her. She walks through the doors and heads straight for a booth, never once looking up at the stage. My heart rate speeds up and beads of sweat form on my forehead, so I wipe them away with the palm of my hand. I’m not sure if it’s from the heat of the spotlight or the onslaught of nerves that have just overcome me seeing her walk through the door. I can’t perform this poem now. Not with her here. Why is she here? She said she wasn’t coming tonight.

I take a step away from the microphone to gather my thoughts. Should I do it anyway? If I do it, she’ll know exactly how I feel about her. That could be good. Maybe if I go ahead and do it I could gauge her reaction and know if asking her to wait for me is the right thing to do. I want her to wait for me. I want her to wait for me so bad. I don’t want to think about her ever allowing anyone besides me to love her. She needs to know how I feel about her before I’m too late.

I shake the tension out of my shoulders. I step up to the microphone, brush away my doubt, and say the words that will strip away everything but the truth.

I used to love the ocean.

Everything about her.

Her coral reefs, her whitecaps, her roaring waves, the

rocks they lap, her pirate legends and mermaid tails,

Treasures lost and treasures held . . .

And ALL

Of her fish

In the sea.

Yes, I used to love the ocean,

Everything about her.

The way she would sing me to sleep as I lay in my bed

then wake me with a force

That I soon came to dread.

Her fables, her lies, her misleading eyes,

I’d drain her dry

If I cared enough to.

I used to love the ocean,

Everything about her.

Her coral reefs, her whitecaps, her roaring waves, the

rocks they lap, her pirate legends and mermaid tails,

treasures lost and treasures held.

And ALL

Of her fish

In the sea.

Well, if you’ve ever tried navigating your sailboat

through her stormy seas, you would realize that

her whitecaps are your enemies. If you’ve ever tried

swimming ashore when your leg gets a cramp and

you just had a huge meal of In-n-Out burgers that’s

weighing you down, and her roaring waves are

knocking the wind out of you, filling your lungs with

water as you flail your arms, trying to get someone’s

attention, but your friends

just

wave

back at you?

And if you’ve ever grown up with dreams in your head

about life, and how one of these days you would pirate

  your own ship and have your own crew and that all of

   the mermaids

would love

only

you?

Well, you would realize . . .

Like I eventually realized . . .

That all the good things about her?

All the beautiful?

It’s not real.

It’s fake.

So you keep your ocean,

I’ll take the Lake.

I CLOSE MY eyes and exhale, not sure what to do next. Do I walk to the booth where she’s sitting? Do I wait and let her come find me? I slowly back away from the microphone and walk toward the side stairs, taking them one by one, afraid of what, if anything, might happen next. I know I need to see her.

When I reach the back of the room, she isn’t in the booth anymore. I walk toward the front of the club, toward the stage, in case she came to find me up here. She’s nowhere. After looking around for several minutes, I see Eddie and Gavin sliding into the booth Lake was seated in just moments ago.

What are they doing here? Lake said none of them were coming. Thank God they’re late, I wouldn’t have wanted Gavin to hear that piece. I walk over to them and attempt to appear casual, but my entire body is nervous and tense.

“Hey, Will,” Gavin says. “You want to sit with us?”

I shake my head. “Not yet. Have you guys . . .” I pause, not really wanting Gavin to give me one of his looks again when he finds out I’m looking for Lake. “Have you guys seen Layken?” Gavin leans back in the booth and cocks an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Eddie says with a grin on her face. “She said she was leaving. She was headed toward the back parking lot of the club, but I just found her purse right here,” she says, holding up a purse. “She’ll be back as soon as she realizes she doesn’t have it.”

She left? I immediately turn and head toward the door without saying another word to either of them. If she stayed for the whole poem and just up and left, I must have pissed her off. Why did I not switch poems? Why didn’t I think about how it would make her feel? I swing the door open and immediately round the corner toward the back parking lot. Frantic to catch her before she drives away, I find myself switching from a brisk walk, to a jog, then to a desperate sprint. I spot her Jeep, but she isn’t inside it. I spin around searching for her, but I don’t see her. I turn to walk back and check the club again and I hear her voice, coupled with someone else’s. It sounds like a guy. My fists immediately clench, worried for her safety. I don’t like the thought of her being out here alone with someone else, so I follow the sound of the voices until I see her.

Until I see them.

She’s backed up against Javi’s truck, her hands on his chest, his hands on her cheeks. Seeing his lips meshed with hers pulls a reaction from deep within me that I didn’t even know I was capable of. The only thing running through my head at this point is how the hell to get this a*shole off her. Of all the guys she could choose to help her move on from me, it sure as hell isn’t going to be Javi.

Before I can even contemplate a more sane decision, my hands have hold of his shirt and I’m pulling him away from her. When he trips and falls onto his back, I drop my knee onto his chest and punch him. As soon as my fist meets his jaw, I realize it took all of three seconds to throw away every single thing I’ve worked for. There is no way I’m getting out of this predicament with a job.

My split-second realization is enough distraction to allow Javi to regain his footing and deliver a punch right to my eye, sending me back to the ground before I can react. I press my hand against my eye and the feel warm blood seeping through my fingers. I hear Lake yelling for him to stop. Or she’s yelling for me to stop. Or maybe both of us. I stand up and open my eyes just as Lake jumps in front of Javi. She’s hurled forward when Javi hits her in the back with a blow that was obviously intended for me. She gasps and falls against me.

“Lake!” I yell, rolling her onto her back. As soon as I confirm she’s conscious, I’m consumed by rage.

Vengeance.

Hatred.

I want to kill this a*shole. I grab the door handle of the car nearest me and pull myself up. Javi is making his way toward Lake, apologizing. I don’t give him time to make amends. I hit him with every ounce of force behind my fist and watch as he falls to the ground. I kneel and hit him again, this time for Lake. As soon as I pull my fist back to hit him again, Gavin jerks me off him, sending us both backward. Gavin has hold of both my arms from behind and is yelling for me to calm down. I yank my arms away from him and stand up, intent on getting Lake out of here, away from Javi. She’s probably beyond pissed at me right now, but the feeling is pretty damn mutual.

She’s sitting up, clutching her chest, attempting to take a breath. As much as I want to yell at her, I’m immediately overcome by worry when I realize she’s hurting. I just want to get her away from everyone. I take her hand and pull her up, then wrap my arm around her waist to help her walk.

“I’m taking you home.”

When we reach my car, I help her inside and shut her door, then walk around to my side of the car. Before I get in, I take several deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself down. I can’t imagine what possessed her to allow him to kiss her after seeing me practically confess my love for her on stage. Does she not even give a shit anymore? I close my eyes and inhale through my nose, then open the door and climb in.

I pull out of the parking lot, unable to form a thought, much less a coherent sentence. My hands are shaking, my heart is about to beat out of my chest, I probably need stitches, and my career is now in jeopardy . . . but the only thing I can think about is the fact that she kissed him.

She kissed him.

The thought consumes me the entire drive. She hasn’t said a single thing, so she has to be feeling pretty guilty right now. As soon as I feel the urge to turn to her and tell her exactly what I think of her actions tonight, I choose to get out of the car, instead. It’s better for both of us if I get a breather. I can’t keep this all in anymore. I pull the car over to the side of the road and punch the steering wheel. I can see her flinch out of the corner of my eye, but she says nothing. I swing the car door open and quickly get out before I say something I’ll regret. I start walking in an attempt to clear my head. It doesn’t help. When I’m at least fifty yards away from the car, I bend down and pick up a handful of gravel, then throw it at nothing.

“Shit!” I yell. “Shit, shit, shit!” I’m not sure at this point what or why or who I’m even mad at. Lake is in no way tied to me. She can date whoever she wants. She can kiss whoever she wants. The fact that I overreacted isn’t her fault at all. I should never have performed that poem. I freaked her out. We were finally in a good spot and I went and screwed it all up.

Again.

I tilt my head up to the sky and close my eyes, allowing the cold flakes of snow to fall on my face. I can feel the tightness and pressure increasing near my eye. It hurts like hell. I hope Javi is hurting worse than I am.

A*shole.

I throw another rock, then walk back toward the car. We drive home with so much that needs to be said, but not a single word spoken.

WHEN WE GET to my house, I help her onto the couch, then walk to my kitchen and grab an ice pack out of the freezer. The tension between us has never been thicker, but I can’t bring myself to talk to her about it. I don’t want to know why she ran after I performed. I don’t want to know why she ran to Javi of all people. I sure as hell don’t want to know why she kissed him.

Her eyes are closed when I reach the couch again. She looks so peaceful just lying there. I watch her for a moment, wishing I knew what the hell was going through her head, but I refuse to ask. I can carve pumpkins just as well as she can.

I kneel beside her and her eyes flick open. She looks at me with horror and reaches up to my eye. “Will! Your eye!”

“It’s fine. I’ll be fine,” I say, shaking it off. She pulls her hand back and I lean forward and grasp the bottom edge of her shirt. “Do you mind?” I say, asking permission to lift her shirt. She shakes her head, so I pull the shirt up over her back. She’s already got a bruise from where that asswipe punched her. I lay the icepack over her injury, then pull her shirt back down on top of it.

I walk to the front door and leave her on the couch as I make my way across the street to inform Julia. When I knock on the door, it takes her a while to finally answer. When she sees me standing there with blood on my face, she immediately gasps Lake’s name.

“She’s okay,” I quickly say. “There was a fight at the club and she was hit in the back. She’s on my couch.” Before I can say anything else, Julia shoves past me and runs across the street. When I finally make my way back into my living room, she’s holding Lake in her arms. Julia takes her hand and helps her up. I hold the door open as they both walk out. Lake doesn’t even make eye contact with me when she leaves. I shut the door behind them, then head to the bathroom and begin cleaning my injury. When I’ve got it bandaged up, I grab my phone and text Gavin.

If I come pick you up first thing in the morning, can you go with me to get Lake’s Jeep and drive it back to Ypsi?

I hit send and sit down on the couch. I can’t even wrap my mind around everything that’s happened tonight. I feel like I’m living someone else’s dream. Someone else’s nightmare.

How early?

Early. I have to be at the school by 7:30. Is 6:00 okay?

I’ll do it under one condition. If you don’t get fired tomorrow, I’m exempt from every single assignment for the rest of the year.

See you at six.

HE OPENS THE passenger door and climbs inside. Before I’ve even backed out of his driveway, he lays into me.

“You realize you screwed up, right? Do you know who Javier’s father is? If you even have a job to go back to today, you won’t have it by this afternoon.”

I nod, but don’t respond.

“What the hell prompted you to kick a student’s ass, Will?”

I sigh and pull onto the main road, keeping my eyes focused in front of me.

“I know whatever happened had to do with Layken. But what the hell did Javi do? You were pummeling him like he was your punching bag. Please tell me it was self-defense so you at least have a chance at keeping your job. Was it self-defense?” he asks, looking straight at me for an answer.

I shake my head no. He sighs, then leans forcefully back against his seat.

“And then you take her home! Why the hell would you let her in your car alone in front of him? That’s enough to get you fired without even kicking his ass. Why the hell did you kick his ass?”

I look over at him. “Gavin, I screwed up. I realize this. You can shut the hell up now.”

He nods and props his leg on the dash and doesn’t say another word.

IT’S THE FIRST time I’ve ever made it into the office before Mrs. Alex. It’s eerily quiet, and for a moment, I actually wish she were here. I walk around her desk toward Mr. Murphy’s office. I glance inside and he’s casually seated at his desk with the phone to his ear and his feet propped up. His face lights up when he sees me, but the illumination quickly fades when he sees the damage to my eye. He holds up a finger, so I take a few steps away from his door to give him some privacy.

I’ve thought about this moment so many times before. The moment I would walk into Mr. Murphy’s office and resign. Of course, I always imagined the end result would be my walking out of his office and into Lake’s life.

I hold the door for Lake, then close it behind us. She turns around and completely loses her calm demeanor. “What happened? God, I’ve been worried sick all day,” she says.

“I got a slap on the wrist,” I say as we walk toward my house. “They told me since I was defending another student, they couldn’t really hold it against me.”

I jog a few steps and open my front door for her, stepping aside to let her in.

“That’s good. What about your internship?” she asks.

“Well, it’s a little tricky. The only available ones they had in Ypsilanti were all primary. My major is secondary, so I’ve been placed at a school in Detroit.”

She looks up at me, her eyes full of concern. “What’s that mean? Are y’all moving?”

I love the fact that the thought of our moving scares her so bad. I laugh. “No, Lake, we’re not moving. It’s just for eight weeks. I’ll be doing a lot of driving, though. I was actually going to talk to you and your mom about it later. I’m not going to be able to take the boys to school, or pick them up either. I’ll be gone a lot. I know this isn’t a good time to ask for your help—”

“Stop it. You know we’ll help.” She grabs the tape measure and shuts the box, then walks the kit back to the laundry room. I follow her, but I’m not sure why I feel compelled to. I’m afraid she’s about to head straight back to her house and I still have so much left I need to say to her. I walk into the laundry room behind her and pause in the doorway. She’s staring quietly in front of her, running her fingers across my mother’s patterns. She’s got that distant look in her eyes again. I lean against the doorframe and watch her.

I still can’t believe I thought she would willingly allow Javi to kiss her, especially after seeing my performance last night. I know her better than that, and she knows she deserves so much better than Javi.

Hell, she deserves so much better than me.

She reaches to the wall and flicks off the light, then turns toward me. She comes to a halt when she sees that I’m blocking the doorway. She quietly gasps and looks up at me, her beautiful green eyes full of hope again. She scrolls her eyes over my features, searching my face, waiting for me to either speak or move out of her way. I don’t want to do either. All I want to do is take her in my arms and show her how I feel about her, but I can’t. She stares up at me, slowly dropping her gaze to my mouth. She tugs on her bottom lip with her teeth and nervously darts her eyes to the floor.

I’ve never wanted to be teeth so bad in my entire life.

I take a deep breath and prepare to get out what I need to say, despite knowing I shouldn’t say it. I just need her to know why I did what I did last night, and why I acted the way I acted. I fold my arms across my chest and prop my foot against the doorway, looking down at it. Avoiding eye contact with her is probably best right now, considering my lack of resolve at the moment. It’s been a while since we’ve been alone in a situation like this. The way things have been going the past few weeks, I had myself convinced that I was stronger than I am, and that I’ve overcome the weakness I feel when I’m around her.

I was completely wrong.

My heart slams against my chest at record speed and I’m consumed by an insatiable desire to grab her by the waist and pull her to me. I hug myself tighter in an attempt to keep my hands to myself. I work my jaw back and forth, hell bent on finding a way to bury my urge to confess to her, but I can’t. The words spill out of me before I can stop them.

“Last night,” I say, my voice cracking the tension like a sledgehammer. “When I saw Javi kissing you . . . I thought you were kissing him back.”

I swing my eyes to her, searching for a reaction. Any reaction. I know how she tries to hide what she’s feeling more than any other person I’ve ever met.

Her eyes widen at the realization that I wasn’t defending her at all last night. I was reacting like a possessive boyfriend, not her knight in shining armor.

“Oh,” she says.

“I didn’t know the whole story until this morning, when you told your version,” I say. I don’t know how I held myself together in the office this morning when I found out. All I wanted to do was lunge across the table and punch Javi’s father across the jaw for raising such an a*shole. Just thinking about it causes my blood to boil. I inhale a deep breath, filling my lungs to their maximum capacity before huffing out a sigh. I notice my hands are clenched into tight fists, so I relax them and run my hands through my hair, turning to face her.

“God, Lake. I can’t tell you how pissed I was. I wanted to hurt him so bad. And now? Now that I know he really was hurting you? I want to kill him.” I lean my head back against the doorframe and close my eyes. I have to get the thought of him out of my head. He hurt her, and I wasn’t there in time to protect her. The image of him pressing his mouth to hers against her will is clear in my mind, as is the fact that his lips were the last to touch hers. She doesn’t deserve to be kissed like that. She deserves to be kissed by someone who loves her. Someone who spends every waking moment trying to do everything right by her. Someone who would rather die than see her hurt. She doesn’t deserve to be kissed by anyone other than me.

Her brows are furrowed and she’s staring at me with a confused expression. “How did you”—she pauses—“How’d you know I was there?”

“I saw you. When I finished my piece, I saw you leaving.”

She looks up at me and quietly sucks in a small breath with my admission. Her hand searches for support behind her and she takes a step back, steadying herself. Despite the darkness, I can see her eyes dance with hope. “Will, does this mean—”

I immediately take two steps forward, closing the gap between us. My chest heaves with each passing breath as I attempt to calm my desire to show her just how sincere my words were last night. I trail the back of my fingers against the smooth skin of her cheek, then hook my thumb under her chin, bringing her face closer to mine. The simple contact of her skin against my fingers reminds me of what her kiss is capable of doing to me. It hypnotizes me. Her touch completely, wholeheartedly shakes me to my core and I try to force myself to slow down.

She places her hand against my chest when I wrap my arms around her. I can feel her wanting to resist, but her need is just as strong as mine. I take a step forward until she finds solid backing and I quickly lean in and press my lips to hers before either of us has time to change our minds. When my tongue finds hers, she moans a soft moan and becomes putty in my hands, dropping her arms to her sides. I kiss her passionately, tenderly, and eagerly all at the same time.

I grip her by the waist and easily lift her up onto the dryer, taking a stance between her legs and never losing contact with her lips. She begins to pull at my shirt, wanting me closer, so I oblige by pulling her against me as she encircles me with her legs. Her nails lightly dig into the muscles of my forearms as her fingers search their way up my arms. When she reaches my neck, her hands glide through my hair, sending chills to places I didn’t even know could get chills. She grabs tufts of my hair in her fists and pulls my head down, repositioning my mouth against the sweet skin of her neck. She takes the opportunity to catch her breath, panting and quietly moaning as my lips tease their way across her collarbone. I reach behind her and grab a handful of hair just as she did mine, then lightly tug until she leans her head back, giving me more access to the incredibly perfect skin against my lips. She does just as I’d hoped and arches her back, giving my lips silent permission to resume their pursuit as I make my way down her neck. I release her hair and slide my hand down her back, slipping my fingers between her skin and her jeans. My fingertips skim the top edge of her panties, and I groan under my breath.

Having her in my arms fills the constant void that has been in my heart since the first night I kissed her, but with every passing moment, every kiss, and every stroke of her hands, an even greater desire builds within me. I need more of her than these stolen moments of passion. I need so much more.

“Will,” she breathes.

I mumble against her skin, unable to get out an audible response. I don’t really feel like talking at the moment. I run my other hand up the back of her shirt until it meets her bra and I pull her against me as I work my way back up her neck toward her mouth.

“Does this mean . . .” she breathes heavily. “Does it mean we don’t have to pretend . . . anymore? We can be . . . together? Since you’re not . . . since you’re not my teacher?”

My lips freeze against her neck with her breathless words. I want more than anything to cover her mouth with my own and make her stop talking about it. I just want to forget about it all for one night. Just for one night.

But I can’t.

My incredibly irresponsible moment of weakness just gave her the wrong idea. I’m still a teacher. Maybe not her teacher, but I’m still a teacher. And she’s still a student. And everything happening between us right now is still completely wrong, no matter how right I want it to be.

In the process of thinking about all of the potential complications of her question, I’ve somehow released her from my death grip and have taken a step away from her.

“Will?” she says, sliding off the dryer. She steps closer to me and the fear in her eyes makes my stomach drop. I did this to her.

Again.

I can feel the regret and agony creep up to my face, and it’s obvious she can see it, too.

“Will? Tell me. Do the rules still apply?” she says fearfully.

I don’t know what to say that can make it any less painful. It’s obvious I just made a huge mistake. “Lake,” I whisper, my voice full of shame. “I had a weak moment. I’m sorry.”

She steps forward and shoves her hands into my chest. “A weak moment? That’s what you call this? A weak moment?” she yells. I flinch at her words, knowing I just said the wrong thing. “What were you gonna do, Will? When were you gonna stop making out with me and kick me out of your house this time?”

She spins on her heel and storms out of the laundry room. Seeing her walk away causes me to panic at the thought of not only upsetting her, but losing her for good. “Lake, don’t,” I plead, following after her. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again, I swear.”

She turns to face me, tears already streaming down her cheeks. “You’re damn right it won’t! I finally accepted it, Will! After an entire month of torture, I was finally able to be around you again. Then you go and do this! I can’t do it anymore,” she says, throwing her arms up in defeat. “The way you consume my mind when we aren’t together? I don’t have time for it anymore. I’ve got more important things to think about now than your little weak moments.”

Her words slam me. She’s absolutely right. I’ve gone so long trying to get her to accept things and move on so she won’t be burdened by my life, but I can’t even resist her long enough not to cave in to my selfish desire for her. I don’t deserve her. I don’t deserve her forgiveness, let alone to be loved by her.

“Get me the measuring tape,” she says, standing with her hand on the door.

“Wh—what?”

“It’s on the damn floor! Get me the measuring tape!”

I walk back into the laundry room and retrieve the measuring tape, then take it back to her, placing it in her hand. She looks down at my hand clamped over hers. She wipes away falling tears with her other hand. She refuses to even look at me. The thought of her hating me for what just happened between us terrifies me. I love her so much and I want more than anything to be able to give it all up for her.

But I can’t. Not yet.

She has to know how hard this is for me, too. “Don’t make me the bad guy, Lake. Please.”

She pulls her hand from mine and looks into my eyes. “Well you’re certainly not the martyr, anymore.” She walks out, slamming the door behind her.

The words “wait for me” pass my lips just as the door closes, but she doesn’t hear me. “I want you to wait for me,” I say again. I know she can’t hear me, but the fact that I can say it out loud gives me the confidence I need to run after her and tell her to her face.

I love her. I know she loves me. And despite what Julia thinks is good for us, I want her to wait for me. We need to be together. We have to be together. If I don’t stop her from walking away right now, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.

I swing open the door, prepared to run after her, but I pause when I see her. She’s standing in her entryway, wiping away the tears that I’m responsible for. I watch as she takes a few deep breaths, trying to pull herself together before walking into her house. Seeing her effort to move past what just happened so that she can help her mother inside her own home brings it all back into perspective.

I’m the last thing she needs in her life right now. I have too much responsibility, and with how things are going for her right now, the last thing she needs is to put her life on hold for me. Everything I say or do just brings her more grief and heartache and I can’t ask her to hold on to that while she waits for me. She doesn’t need to focus on me. Julia’s right. She needs to focus on her family.

I reluctantly walk back into my house and shut the door behind me. The realization that I need to let her go for good physically brings me to my knees.

17.

the honeymoon

“I WISH MORE than anything I had gone after you that night,” I say. “I should have told you exactly what I wanted to say. It would have saved us both a world of heartache.”

Lake sits up on the bed and hugs her knees, looking down at me. “Not me,” she says. “I’m happy things worked out the way they did. I think we both needed that breather. And I definitely don’t regret all the time I spent with my mother during those three months. It was good for us.”

“Good.” I smile. “That’s the only reason I didn’t run after you.”

She releases her knees and falls back onto the bed. “But still. It was so hard living across the street from you. All I wanted to do was be with you, but I didn’t want anyone to know that. It’s like I spent the entire three months pretending to be happy when I was in front of other people. Eddie was the only one who knew how I really felt. I didn’t want Mom to know because I felt like it would just burden her even more if she knew how sad I was.”

I raise up and lean forward, crawling on top of her. “Thank God she knew how we both really felt, though. Do you think you would have showed up at the slam the night before my graduation if she didn’t encourage you to go?”

“There’s no way I would have shown up. If it weren’t for her telling me about your conversation with her, I would have continued the rest of the year thinking you didn’t love me like I loved you.”

I press my forehead against hers. “I’m so glad you showed up,” I whisper. “You changed my life forever that night.

schooled

I’VE SPOKEN TO Lake once in the last three months.

Once.

You would think it would get easier, but it hasn’t. Especially today, since my last day of student teaching is finally over. I graduate tomorrow, which should be a day I’m looking forward to more than anything. Instead I’m dreading it, knowing Lake won’t be waiting for me.

There are two emotions in this world I’ve learned I can handle. Love and hate. Lake has loved me at times and she’s hated me at times. Love and hate, despite their polar opposites, are both feelings that are induced by passion. I can handle that.

It’s the indifference I don’t know how to process.

I went to her house a few weeks ago to talk to her about my new job at the junior high and she didn’t seem to care one way or another. I would have taken it well if she had been happy for me and wished me good luck. I would have taken it even better if she had cried and begged me not to do it, which is what I was hoping would happen more than anything. It’s the sole reason I even went to tell her about the job in the first place. I didn’t want to accept it if I thought I still had a chance with her.

Instead, she didn’t react either way. She congratulated me, but the indifference in her voice was clear. She was simply being polite. Her indifference finally sealed our fate, and I knew in that moment that I had messed with her heart one too many times. She was over me.

She is over me.

I have a two-week window in which I’ll be nothing. I won’t be a student. I won’t be a teacher. I’ll be a twenty-one-year-old college graduate. I’ve thought about walking straight over to Lake’s house today to tell her how much I love her, even though I’m technically still a teacher, considering the contract I have with the junior high. Not even that would stop me if it weren’t for the way she reacted to me last month with so much indifference. She seemed to have accepted our fate, and it was good to see her handling everything so well, as much as it hurt. The last thing I want to do, or need to do, is pull her back down with me.

God, this is going to be the hardest two weeks of my life. I need to keep my distance from her, that’s a fact.

When the audience begins clapping, I snap back to reality. I’m supposed to be judging tonight, but I haven’t heard a single word any of the performers have said. I hold up the standard 9.0 on my scorecard without even looking up at the stage. I don’t even want to be here tonight. In fact, I don’t want to be anywhere tonight.

When the scores are tallied, the emcee begins to announce the winners. I lean back in my seat and close my eyes, hoping the night goes fast. I just want to go home and get to bed so graduation will come and go tomorrow. I don’t know why I’m dreading it. Probably because I’ll be the only person there who couldn’t find enough people to give my graduation tickets to. The average person never gets enough tickets for graduation. I have too many.

“I would like to perform a piece I wrote.”

I jerk up in my seat at the sound of her voice, the sudden movement almost causing my chair to flip backward. She’s standing on the stage, holding the microphone. The guy next to me laughs along with the rest of the crowd once they realize she’s interrupting the night’s schedule.

“Check this chick out,” he says, nudging me with his elbow.

The sight of her paralyzes me. I’m pretty sure I forgot how to breathe. I’m pretty sure I’m about to die. What the hell is she doing? I watch intently as she brings the microphone back to her lips. “I know this isn’t standard protocol, but it’s an emergency,” she says.

The laughter from the audience causes her eyes to widen and she spins around to look for the emcee. She’s scared. Whatever she’s doing, it’s completely out of character for her. The emcee nudges her to face the front of the room again. I take a deep breath, silently willing her to keep calm.

She places the microphone back in its stand and lowers it to her height. She closes her eyes and inhales when the guy next to me yells, “Three dollars!”

I could punch him.

Her eyes flick open and she shoves her hand into her pocket, pulling out money to hand to the emcee. After he takes the money, she prepares herself again. “My piece is called—” The emcee interrupts her, tapping her on the shoulder. She shoots him an irritated glance. I expel a deep breath, becoming just as irritated by all the interruptions. She takes the change from him and shoves it back into her pocket, then hisses something at him that makes him retreat off the stage. She turns back toward the audience and her eyes scan the crowd.

She has to know I’m here. What the hell is she doing?

“My piece is called Schooled,” she says into the microphone. I swallow the lump in my throat. If I wanted to move at this point, my body would fail me. I’m completely frozen as I watch her take several deep breaths, then begin her piece.

I got schooled this year.

By everyone.

By my little brother . . .

by The Avett Brothers . . .

by my mother, my best friend, my teacher, my father,

and

by

a

boy.

A boy that I’m seriously, deeply, madly, incredibly, and undeniably in love with.

I got so schooled this year.

By a nine-year-old.

He taught me that it’s okay to live life

a little backward.

And how to laugh

At what you would think

is unlaughable.

I got schooled this year

By a band

They taught me how to find that feeling of feeling again.

They taught me how to decide what to be

And go be it.

I got schooled this year.

By a cancer patient.

She taught me so much. She’s still teaching me so much.

She taught me to question.

To never regret.

She taught me to push my boundaries,

Because that’s what they’re there for.

She told me to find a balance between head and heart

And then

she taught me how . . .

I got schooled this year

By a foster kid.

She taught me to respect the hand that I was dealt.

And to be grateful I was even dealt a hand.

She taught me that family

Doesn’t have to be blood.

Sometimes your family

are your friends.

I got schooled this year

By my teacher

He taught me

That the points are not the point,

The point is poetry . . .

I got schooled this year

By my father.

He taught me that heroes aren’t always invincible

And that the magic

is within me.

I got schooled this year

by

a

boy.

A boy that I’m seriously, deeply, madly, incredibly, and undeniably in love with.

And he taught me the most important thing of all—

To put the emphasis

On life.

COMPLETELY.

Utterly.

Frozen.

My eyes drop to the table in front of me when she finishes. Her words are still sinking in.

A boy that I’m seriously, deeply, madly, incredibly, and undeniably in love with.

In love with?

That’s what she said.

In love with. As in present tense.

She loves me. Layken Cohen loves me.

“Hold up your scores, man,” the guy next to me says, forcing the scorecard into my hand. I look at it, then look up at the stage. She’s not up there anymore. I spin around and see her making her way toward the exit in a hurry.

What the hell am I doing just sitting here? She’s waiting on me to acknowledge everything she just said, and I’m sitting here frozen like an idiot.

I stand up when the judges to the right of me hold up their scorecards. Three of them gave her a nine, the other an 8.5. I round the front of the table and flip the scores on all of their cards to tens. The points may not be the point, but her poetry kicked ass. “She gets tens.”

I turn around and jump onto the stage. I grab the microphone out of the emcee’s hands and he rolls his eyes, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Not again,” he says, defeated.

I spot her as soon as she swings the doors open to step outside. “That’s not a good idea,” I say into the microphone. She stops in her tracks, then slowly turns around to face the stage. “You shouldn’t leave before you get your scores.”

She looks at the judges’ table, then back to me. When she makes eye contact, she smiles.

I grip the microphone, hell bent on performing the piece I wrote for her, but the magnetic pull to jump off the stage and take her in my arms is overwhelming. I stand firm, wanting her to hear what I have to say first. “I’d like to perform a piece,” I say, looking at the emcee. “It’s an emergency.” He nods and takes a few steps back. I turn around to face Lake again. She’s standing in the center of the room now, staring up at me.

“Three dollars,” someone yells from the crowd.

Shit. I pat my pockets, realizing I left my wallet in my car. “I don’t have any cash,” I say to the emcee.

His eyes shift to Lake and mine follow. She pulls out the two dollars in change from her fee and walks to the stage, slapping it down in front of us.

“Still a dollar short,” he says.

Jesus! It’s one freaking dollar!

The silence in the room is interrupted as several chairs slide from under their tables. People from all over the floor walk toward the stage, surrounding Lake as they throw dollar bills onto the stage. Everyone quickly makes their way back to their seats and Lake eyes the money, dumbfounded.

“Okay,” the emcee says, taking in the pile of cash at my feet. “I guess that covers it. What’s the name of your piece, Will?”

I look down at Lake and smile right back at her. “Better than third.”

She takes a few steps back from the stage and waits for me to begin. I take a deep breath and prepare to tell her everything I should have said to her three months ago.

I met a girl.

A beautiful girl

And I fell for her.

I fell hard.

Unfortunately, sometimes life gets in the way.

Life definitely got in my way.

It got all up in my damn way,

Life blocked the door with a stack of wooden two-by-fours nailed together and attached to a fifteen-inch concrete wall behind a row of solid steel bars, bolted to a titanium frame that no matter how hard I shoved against it—

It

wouldn’t

budge.

Sometimes life doesn’t budge.

It just gets all up in your damn way.

It blocked my plans, my dreams, my desires, my wishes, my wants, my needs.

It blocked out that beautiful girl

That I fell so hard for.

Life tries to tell you what’s best for you.

What should be most important to you.

What should come first

Or second

Or third.

I tried so hard to keep it all organized, alphabetized, stacked in chronological order, everything in its perfect space, its perfect place.

I thought that’s what life wanted me to do.

This is what life needed for me to do.

Right?

Keep it all in sequence?

Sometimes life gets in your way.

It gets all up in your damn way.

But it doesn’t get all up in your damn way because it wants you to just give up and let it take control. Life doesn’t get all up in your damn way because it just wants you to hand it all over and be carried along.

Life wants you to fight it.

Learn how to make it your own.

It wants you to grab an axe and hack through the wood.

It wants you to get a sledgehammer and break through the concrete.

It wants you to grab a torch and burn through the metal and steel until you can reach through and grab it.

Life wants you to grab all the organized, the alphabetized, the chronological, the sequenced. It wants you to mix it all together,

stir it up,

blend it.

Life doesn’t want you to let it tell you that your little brother should be the only thing that comes first.

Life doesn’t want you to let it tell you that your career and your education should be the only thing that comes in second.

And life definitely doesn’t want me

To just let it tell me

that the girl I met—

The beautiful, strong, amazing, resilient girl

That I fell so hard for—

Should only come in third.

Life knows.

Life is trying to tell me

That the girl I love?

The girl I fell

So hard for?

There’s room for her in first.

I’m putting her first.

AS SOON AS the last line escapes my lips, I set the microphone down on the stage and jump off. I walk directly to her and take her face in my hands. Tears are falling down her cheeks, so I wipe them away with my thumbs.

“I love you, Lake.” I lean my forehead against hers. “You deserve to come first.”

Telling her exactly how I feel about her is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. The honesty comes so naturally. It’s the months of hiding my feelings that have been unbearable. I breathe a huge sigh of relief when the weight of holding everything back disappears.

She laughs through her tears and places her hands on top of mine, looking up at me with the most beautiful smile. “I love you, too. I love you so much.”

I kiss her softly on the lips. My heart feels like it literally swells within my chest when she kisses me back. I wrap my arms around her and bury my face into her hair, pulling her tightly against me. I close my eyes, and it’s suddenly just the two of us. Me and this girl. This girl is in my arms again . . . touching me, kissing me, breathing me in, loving me back.

She’s not just a dream, anymore.

Lake moves her mouth to my ear and whispers, “We probably shouldn’t be doing this here.” I open my eyes and the concern on her face registers with me. She’s still a student. I’m still technically a teacher. This probably doesn’t look very good if anyone here knows us.

I reach down and take her hand, then pull her toward the exit. As soon as we’re outside, I grab her by the waist and push her against the door. I’ve been waiting months to be with her like this. Two more seconds without touching her and I. Will. Die.

I lower my hand to the small of her back, then lean in and kiss her again. The feeling I get when my lips are on hers is something I’ve thought about, over and over, since the first time I kissed her. But actually being in the moment with her again, knowing my feelings for her are reciprocated, is nothing short of amazing.

She runs her hands inside my jacket and up my back, pulling me to her as she returns my kiss. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do for the rest of my life than be wrapped up in her arms with her lips pressed to mine. But I know that despite what we’ve been through and despite how I feel about her, I’ve still got responsibilities. I don’t know how much more waiting she’s willing to do. The thought of it takes all of the excitement built up inside of me and crushes it.

I stop kissing her and wrap my hands in her hair, then pull her to my chest. I take a long, deep breath and she does the same, locking her hands together behind my back.

“Lake,” I say, stroking her hair. “I don’t know what will happen in the next few weeks. But I need you to know that if I can’t back out of my contract . . .”

She immediately jerks her head up and looks at me with more fear in her eyes than I’ve ever seen. She thinks I’m telling her I might not choose her, and the fact that something so absurd is running through her mind right now makes me hurt for her. This is how I’ve made her feel for the past three months and she thinks I’m doing it to her all over again.

“Will, you can’t do this to . . .”

I press my finger to her lips. “Shut up, babe. I’m not telling you we can’t be together. You’re stuck with me now whether you like it or not.” I pull her back to my chest. “All I’m trying to say is, if I can’t break out of my contract, it’s only four months. I just need you to promise that you’ll wait for me if it comes to that. We can’t let anyone know we’re together until I find out what I need to do.”

She nods against my shirt. “I promise. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

I close my eyes and rest my cheek against her head, thankful that all the times I’ve pushed her away haven’t made her lose faith in me completely.

“This probably means we shouldn’t be standing out here like this,” I say. “You want to come to my car?”

I don’t wait for her to answer, because I need her to come to my car with me. I’m not ready to stop kissing her yet, but I can’t keep doing it so carelessly and in public like this. I grab her hand and lead her to my car. I open the passenger door, but rather than let her get in first, I sit in the seat and pull her onto my lap, then shut the door. I pull my keys out of my pocket and reach over to crank the car so it’ll warm up. She positions herself on my lap, straddling me. I acknowledge that our position is incredibly intimate, being as though I can count the number of times we’ve kissed on one hand, but it’s the only comfortable way to make out in a car.

I take her hands and pull them up between us, then kiss them. “I love you, Lake.”

She smiles. “Say it again. I love hearing you say that.”

“Good, because I love saying it. I love you.” I kiss her cheek, then her lips. “I love you,” I whisper again.

“One more time,” she says. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve imagined hearing you say it. I’ve been hoping this whole time that whatever I was feeling wasn’t one-sided.”

The fact that she had no idea how I felt about her makes my chest ache. “I love you, Lake. So much. I’m so sorry for putting you through everything I’ve put you through.”

She shakes her head. “Will, you were doing the right thing. Or trying to, anyway. I get that. I just hope this is for real now, because you can’t push me away again. I can’t go through that again.”

Her words are like a knife to my heart, but deservedly so. I don’t know what I could do or say that could convince her that I’m here. I’m staying. I chose her this time.

Before I have the chance to convince her of that, she grabs my face and kisses me hard, causing me to groan under my breath. I slip my hands underneath her shirt and around to her back. The softness and warmth of her skin beneath my palms is a feeling I never want to forget.

As soon as my hands meet her skin, she takes my jacket in her fists and begins tugging it off me. I lean forward, still meshed to her mouth, and struggle to free myself from the jacket. Once it’s off, I toss it behind me and place my hands back underneath her shirt.

Touching her, kissing her, being with her . . . it feels so natural. So right.

I move my lips to the spot on her neck that drives me crazy. She tilts her neck to the side and moans quietly. I move my hands to her waist and tighten my grip while I trail kisses along her collarbone. I slowly inch my hands up her waist until my thumbs meet her bra. I can feel her heart hammering against her chest, and it causes my own heart to try to outrace hers. As soon as I slip my right thumb underneath her bra, she pulls back, away from my lips. She gasps for air.

I immediately pull my hands out from underneath her shirt and place them on her shoulders, silently cursing myself for being so impatient. I push her shoulders back in order to give us space to breathe. I lean my head back against the seat and close my eyes.

“I’m sorry.” I open my eyes and keep my head flush against the headrest. “I’m going too fast. I’m sorry. I’ve just imagined touching you so many times I feel like it’s so natural. I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head and pulls my hands away from her shoulders, holding them together between us. “It’s okay,” she says. “We’re both going too fast. I just need a moment. But it feels right, doesn’t it? It feels so right being with you.”

“That’s because it is right.”

She stares at me silently, then out of nowhere, she crushes her lips to mine again. I groan and wrap my arms tightly around her, pulling her back against me. As soon as she’s pressed against my chest, I place my hands on her shoulders and push her away. As soon as she’s apart from me, I pull her back to me for another kiss. This happens several times and I keep having to remind myself to slow down. I eventually have to push her off my lap and onto the driver’s seat. However, this doesn’t help, because as soon as she leans her back against the driver’s side door, I lean across the seat and kiss her again. Seeing how much I need her causes her to laugh, which makes me laugh at how pathetically desperate I’m acting right now. I somehow pull away and slump against the passenger door. I run my hand through my hair and grin at her.

“You’re really making this hard,” I laugh. “Pun intended.”

She smiles and even in the dark I can see her blush.

“Ugh!” I run my palms over my face and groan. “God, I want you so bad.” I lunge forward and kiss her, but place my hand on the doorknob. I yank it and the door opens up behind her. “Get out,” I say against her lips. “Go get in your car where you’re safe. I’ll see you when we get home.”

She nods and swings one of her legs out of the car, but I don’t want her to go. I grab her thigh and pull her back in and kiss her again. “Go,” I groan.

“I’m trying.” She laughs, pulling away from me. She climbs out of the car and I slide across the seats, following her straight out the car door.

“Where’d you park?” I ask her. I wrap my arms around her and press my lips to her ear.

“A few cars over,” she says, pointing behind her. I slide my hand into her back pocket and retrieve her keys, then walk her to her car. After I open the door for her and she climbs in, I lean in to kiss her one last time.

“Don’t go inside when you get home. I’m not finished kissing you,” I say.

She grins. “Yes, sir.”

I shut her door and once her Jeep is cranked, I tap my knuckles against the window and she rolls it down. I place my hand on the nape of her neck and lean through her window. “This drive home is about to be the longest thirty minutes of my life.” I kiss her on the temple and take a step back. “Love you.”

She rolls up her window, then places her palm against the glass. I lift my hand up to mirror hers, matching our fingertips together. She mouths, “I love you, too,” and begins backing away.

I wait until she’s out of the parking lot, then I walk back to my car.

I don’t understand it. I don’t understand how I went so long without her and now I feel like she’s such a vital part of me, I’ll die if I’m not touching her.

I’M NOT EVEN in my car for a minute before I dial her number. I’ve never called her without the conversation being linked to Kel or Caulder before. It feels good calling her for her.

She’s driving directly in front of me so I can see her reach for her phone when it rings. She tilts her head and holds the phone between her shoulder and her neck. “Hello?”

“You shouldn’t talk on the phone while you’re driving,” I tell her.

She laughs. “Well, you shouldn’t call me when you know I’m driving.”

“But I missed you.”

“I miss you, too,” she says. “I’ve missed you for the whole sixty seconds we’ve been apart,” she says sarcastically.

I laugh. “I want to talk to you while we drive, but I want you to put your phone on speaker and set it down.”

“Why?”

“Because,” I say, “it’s not safe for you to drive with your head cocked to the side like that.”

I can see her smile in her rearview mirror. She drops the phone and sits up straight. “Better?” she says.

“Better. Now listen, I’m about to play you an Avett Brothers song. Make sure the volume on your phone is turned all the way up.” I turn on the song I’ve listened to on repeat since the night I fell for her and turn the volume up. When the chorus hits, I start singing along to the lyrics.

I lower my voice and continue to sing the rest of the song, then the song after that, and the song after that. She listens silently the entire drive back to Ypsilanti.

LAYKEN PULLS INTO her driveway right before I turn into mine. I rush to kill the engine and head across the street before she has a chance to open her car door. When I reach her, I swing the door open and reach in, pulling her out by her hand. I want to push her against the Jeep and kiss her crazy, but I know we’ve more than likely got at least three pairs of eyes on us. What I wouldn’t give to have her alone in my house right now, rather than out here in the open. I kiss the top of her head and stroke her hair, accepting whatever time I can get with her right now.

“Do you have a curfew?”

She shrugs. “I’m eighteen. I don’t know if she could give me one if she wanted to.”

“We don’t need to push our luck with her, Lake. I want to do this right.” I’m lucky that Julia would even allow her to be with me at this point. The last thing I want to do is upset her.

“Do we have to talk about my mom right now, Will?”

I smile and shake my head. “No.” I slip my hand behind her head and pull her mouth to mine, kissing her like I don’t care who might be watching. Hell, I don’t care. I kiss her crazy for several minutes until it gets to the point that my hands can’t stay above her shoulders for much longer. I pull away just enough for us to catch our breath.

“Let’s go to your house,” she whispers.

The suggestion is so tempting. I close my eyes and pull her to my chest. “I need to talk to your mom first before I pull something like that. I need to know what our boundaries are.”

She laughs. “Why? So we can push them?”

“Don’t turn on the lights. She’ll know we’re back,” I say as I help her make her way through the darkened doorway.

“I can’t see,” she says.

I put my arm around her back and bend down, scooping her legs up with my other arm. “Allow me.”

She throws her arms around my neck and squeals. I walk her until we’ve reached the couch and gently lay her down. I take off my jacket and slip off my shoes, then reach down until I find her. I slide my hand down the length of her legs until I reach her feet, then I remove her shoes while she slips off her jacket.

“Anything else you need me to remove?” I whisper.

“Uh-huh. Your shirt.”

I immediately agree with that and pull my shirt over my head. “Why are we whispering?” I ask her.

“I don’t know,” she whispers.

The sound of her voice when she whispers . . . knowing she’s on her back . . . on my couch.

The significance of the next two hours is almost more than I can handle, knowing the things that could occur between us. I recognize that, so rather than lower myself on top of her, I kneel on the floor next to the couch. As much as I want her, I want to take it at her pace tonight, not mine. I tend to be extremely impatient when it comes to her.

I find her cheek in the dark and turn her face toward mine. When I touch her, her breath hitches. I feel it, too. I’ve touched her face countless times before, but somehow in the dark with absolutely no interruptions, it seems a hell of a lot more intimate.

She moves her hand to the back of my neck and I press my lips lightly against hers. They’re wet and cold and perfect, but as soon as I part her lips and taste her, perfect becomes the understatement of the year.

She responds to my kiss tentatively. We’re both slowly exploring our limits and I want to be sure I’m not taking it too fast this time. My hand remains on her cheek while we kiss, then I begin to slowly move it down her neck, trailing over her shoulder and down to her hip. Each movement I make only seems to encourage her, so I slip my hand underneath her shirt and grip her waist. I wait for any indication that she wants me to stop.

Or go further.

She presses her hands into my back, pulling me forward, indicating she wants me on the couch with her.

“Lake,” I say, pulling back several inches. “I can’t. If I get on this couch with you . . .” I release a deep breath. “Just trust me. I can’t get on this couch with you.”

She reaches down to my hand that’s still gripping her by the waist. She slides my hand up her stomach and doesn’t stop until my hand is covering the cup of her bra.

Holy shit.

“I want you on the couch with me, Will.”

I immediately pull my hand away, but only because I need her shirt off. I practically yank it over her head and immediately join her on the couch. As soon as I lower myself on top of her and feel her pressed against my chest, I kiss her again and return my hand right where she put it. She smiles and wraps her legs around me as I kiss my way down her chin, straight to her neck.

“I can feel your heartbeat right here,” I say, kissing the base of her throat. “I like it.”

She takes my hand and slips it beneath her bra this time. “You can feel it beating right here, too.”

I bury my face in the couch and groan. “Oh, my god, Lake.”

I want to touch her. I want to feel all of her. I don’t know what’s stopping me. Why the hell am I so nervous?

“Will?”

I pull my face away from the couch, very aware that my hand is still tucked safely beneath her bra. My hand has never been happier. “You want me to slow down? I will, Lake. Just tell me.”

She shakes her head and runs her hands down my back. “No. I want you to speed up.”

My hesitation immediately disappears with those words. I slide my hand around her back and unfasten her bra, then slide it down her shoulders. I drop my mouth to her skin and as soon as the softest moan escapes her lips, my hand finds its way back to where she planted it earlier. I lower my lips, then immediately freeze at the sound of a key turning in the front door.

“Shh.” About that time, the front door swings open and my living room light flicks on. I lift my head far enough to peer over the back of the couch and see Julia walking toward the hallway. I drop my head to Lake’s neck. “Shit. It’s your mom.”

“Shit,” she whispers, frantically pulling her bra back up. “Shit, shit, shit.”

I clamp my hand over her mouth. “She might not notice us. Be still.”

Our hearts are pounding now faster than they’ve ever pounded before. I know this, because my palm is still firmly planted right on top of Lake’s breast. Apparently she recognizes the awkwardness of the moment, too.

“Will, move your hand. This is weird.”

I pull my hand away. “What is she doing here?”

Lake shakes her head. “I have no idea.”

And that’s when it happens. I’ve heard people can see their lives flash before their eyes in the moments before death.

It’s true.

Julia walks back into the room and screams.

I jump off Lake.

Lake jumps off the couch and there it is. My entire life flashes before my eyes the moment Julia sees Lake standing in my living room, fastening her bra.

“It’s just us,” I blurt out. I don’t know why I chose those words to be my possible last words. Julia is standing with her hand over her mouth, staring at us wide-eyed. “It’s just us,” I say again, as if she doesn’t already know that.

“I was . . .” Julia holds up Caulder’s pillow. “Caulder wanted his pillow,” she says. She looks back and forth between us and in a split second, her expression turns from fear to anger. I immediately reach down and retrieve Lake’s shirt, then hand it to her.

“Mom,” Lake says. She doesn’t follow it up with anything else because she has no idea what to say.

“Go home,” Julia says to Lake.

“Julia,” I say to Julia.

“Will?” Julia says to me, cutting a warning shot in my direction. “I’ll deal with you later.”

As soon as the words come out of Julia’s mouth, Lake’s face turns from embarrassed to really, really angry. “Mom, we’re adults! You can’t talk to him like that!” Lake yells. “And you can’t prevent us from making out! This is ridiculous.”

I grab Lake’s elbow in an attempt to calm her down. “Don’t, babe,” I say quietly.

She looks at me defensively. “She can’t tell me what to do, Will. I’m an adult.”

I calmly place my hand on her shoulder. “Lake, you’re still in high school. You live under her roof. I shouldn’t have brought you here, I’m sorry. She’s right.” I lean in and kiss her briefly to calm her, then I take her shirt and help her pull it over her head.

“Oh, my God!” Julia yells. “Are you kidding me, Will? Don’t help her put her clothes back on! I’m standing right here!”

What the hell am I thinking?

I release the shirt and hold my palms up in the air, then back away from Lake. She looks at me apologetically and whispers, “I’m sorry,” then heads toward the door.

The door doesn’t even shut before Julia begins yelling at her. “You’ve been dating him for two weeks, Lake! What do you think you’re doing going that far with him that fast?” The door finally closes and I sink back to the couch, feeling incredibly stupid. Incredibly guilty. Incredibly pathetic. Yet . . . somehow still incredibly happy.

I reach down and am picking my own shirt up when the front door swings open again. Julia has a grip on Lake’s arm and marches her straight back into the living room, then positions her on the couch across from me.

“This can’t wait,” Julia says. “I don’t even trust that y’all won’t start this back up tonight as soon as I go to bed.”

Lake is looking at me the same way I’m looking at her. Confused.

Julia turns to Lake. “Are y’all having sex already?”

Lake groans and covers her face with her hands.

“You are?”

“No!” Lake says defensively. “We haven’t had sex yet, okay?”

I’m watching the conversation between them, hoping to hell I don’t get involved in it.

“Yet?” Julia says. “So you’re going to?”

Lake stands and throws her hands up in the air. “What do you want me to say, Mom? I’m eighteen! Do you want me to tell you I’ll be celibate forever? Because that would be a lie.”

Julia rolls her head back and looks up at the ceiling for several seconds. When she looks at me, I dart my eyes to the floor. I’m so embarrassed I can’t even look at her.

“Where’s your car?” she says flatly.

I glance at Lake, then to Julia. “At the end of the street,” I reluctantly admit.

“Why?” she asks accusingly, and rightfully so.

“Mom, stop. This is ridiculous.”

Julia turns her attention to Lake. “Ridiculous? Really, Lake? What I find ridiculous is the fact that you two parked at the end of the street and snuck over here to have sex less than a hundred yards from your mother. You’ve only been dating him for two weeks! What I also find ridiculous is that you’re acting like you did nothing wrong, when it’s obvious you were trying to hide it by parking at the end of the damn street!”

We’re all quiet for a moment. Lake leans her head against the back of the couch and closes her eyes. “What now, then? If you’re going to ground me let’s just get it over with so you can stop embarrassing me.”

Julia sighs an extremely frustrated sigh. She walks over to the couch, taking a seat next to Lake. “I’m not trying to embarrass you, Lake. I just . . .”

Julia sighs again and drops her face into her hands.

Lake rolls her eyes again.

I groan.

Julia lifts her head from her hands and takes a deep breath. “Lake?” she says quietly. “I just . . .” She attempts to get out what she wants to say, but her eyes well up with tears. When Lake realizes Julia is crying, she sits up straight.

“Mom,” Lake says, scooting closer to her. She puts her arms around Julia and hugs her. Seeing her care for her mom despite her frustration with her absolutely melts my heart. It makes me love her even more, somehow.

Julia separates from Lake and wipes at her eyes. “Ugh!” she says. “This is so hard for me. You have to understand that.” She turns to Lake and takes her hands. “I don’t want to play the sick card, but it’s impossible not to. We’re at this transition in our lives where you’re becoming the grown-up. Sometime this year, as much as we don’t want to admit it, you’ll be raising my little boy. It breaks my heart to know that I’m responsible for you being forced to grow up so fast. I’m forcing you to become his guardian. I’m forcing you to become the head of a household at eighteen. It’s not fair to you. All the other areas of your life like falling in love and enjoying high school and new boyfriends and . . . having sex? I just feel like these are the last things you have left before you’re forced to grow up completely. I know I can’t slow down the inevitable, but I’m taking away every other part of your youth by leaving you with all of this responsibility. Until that time comes, I guess I just want you to stop growing up. For my sake. Just stop growing up so fast.”

As soon as she finishes speaking, Lake begins to cry. “I’m sorry,” she says to Julia. “I get it, Mom. I’m sorry.”

I feel like an ass. “I’m sorry, too,” I say to Julia.

Julia smiles at me and wipes at her eyes. “I’m still mad at you, Will.” She stands up and looks at both of us. “Okay. Now that we have that out of the way.” She turns her attention to Lake. “I’m taking you to the doctor tomorrow. You’re getting on the pill.” She turns to face me. “And both of you need to think about this. There’s no rush. You have the rest of your lives to be in a hurry. You both need to set good examples for these boys who look up to you. Sneaking around is not the kind of thing you want to be modeling. You think they don’t notice, but they do. And you two are going to be the ones dealing with them as teenagers, so believe me. You don’t want them throwing your own actions back in your faces.”

She makes a terrifying, but excellent point.

“I want you both to promise me something,” she says.

“Anything,” I say.

“Wait one year. There’s no rush. You’re both still young, so young. You’ve been dating all of two weeks and believe me when I say this, the more you know about each other and the more in love you are, the better it’ll be.”

I do my best to pretend this is not coming out of my girlfriend’s mother’s mouth, but it doesn’t help ease the awkwardness.

“Mom,” Lake groans, sinking back into the couch.

“We promise,” I say, standing up. I immediately regret making the promise to her, knowing what that will entail. An entire year of having to keep myself in check around Lake is like agreeing to infinity. Especially after being on that couch with her tonight.

“I’m sorry, Julia. Really. I respect Lake and I respect you and . . . I’m sorry. We’ll wait. I love Lake and that’s all I need from her right now. Just knowing I can love her is more than enough.”

Lake sighs and I look over at her. She’s smiling at me. She stands up and throws her arms around my neck. “God, I love you,” she says. She pulls away from my neck and kisses me.

“Make sure that kiss is a good one, Lake, because you’re grounded for two weeks.”

Lake and I both snap our heads in Julia’s direction.

“Grounded?” Lake says incredulously.

Julia nods. “Regardless of how much I love your boyfriend . . . you snuck over here knowing I told you I didn’t want you alone at his house. So, yeah. You’re grounded. I’ll give you five minutes to say your good-byes and get home.” Julia walks out and shuts the door behind her.

“Two weeks?” I say to Lake. I press my lips to hers and kiss her crazy for five solid minutes.

I MADE IT twenty-one years without her. After meeting her earlier this year, I somehow made it three months without her. Now, after finally being able to date her, I’ve had to go another two weeks without her. But these past two weeks have been the most unbearable two weeks without her of my entire twenty-one years.

I know it’s not even eight in the morning and it might seem desperate if I show up at her door this early, but we’ve been waiting for these two weeks to pass for what feels like an eternity. I rush across the street and am lifting my hand to knock on the door when it swings open and she jumps into my arms, showering kisses all over my face.

“Way to play hard to get,” I hear Julia say from behind Lake. I put Lake down and shake my head slightly, letting her know we need to tone it down. Lake rolls her eyes and pulls me inside.

“What are we doing today?” she asks.

“Whatever you want. I was thinking maybe we could take the boys somewhere.”

“Really?” Julia says from the kitchen. “That would be great. I need a day of peace after being cooped up in this house with your mopey girlfriend for two weeks.”

Lake laughs and pulls me toward the hallway. “Come to my room while I get ready.” We disappear down the hallway and into her room. She shuts the door and pulls me to her bed. She falls back and I fall on top of her, our lips reconnecting after the torturous time they had to spend apart.

“I missed you so much,” I whisper.

“Not as much as I missed you.”

We kiss some more.

And some more.

And some more.

I wish we didn’t have to leave this bedroom, because I could do this all day. She’s already working her hands up the back of my shirt and I’m groaning into her neck, remembering how close I got to actually being with her two weeks ago. I want to run my hand up her shirt, or touch her waist, or pull her legs around me, but I have no idea what’s safe with her now. Now that we have to wait a whole damn year.

Why did I agree to that? As much as I understand where Julia was coming from, I still don’t know how in the hell we’re going to wait an entire year. Especially considering how much it’s already driving me insane.

“Babe,” I say, pulling my lips away from hers. “We need to talk about this.” I lift up and sit on the bed beside her.

“About what? Our plans today?”

I shake my head. “No.” I lean forward and kiss her again. “This,” I say, waving my hand up and down her body. “We need to talk about what’s okay and what’s not. I really want to respect the promise we made to your mother, but at the same time there’s no way in hell I can keep my hands off you. I just need to know what my boundaries are before I slip up.”

She smiles at me. “So you’re saying we need to set limits to how far we can go?”

I nod. “Exactly. I need you to tell me when I’ve reached the point of retreat.”

She grins mischievously. “Well, there’s only one way to find out what our boundaries are. I guess we need to test them.”

I smile and scoot back down beside her, slowly looking her up and down. “I like that idea.” I brush away a strand of hair from her face and kiss her softly on the mouth. I run my nose across her jawline and kiss my way to her ear. “How’s this? Should I retreat yet?”

She shakes her head. “Hell, no. Not even close.”

I place my hand on her shoulder and slowly run my fingers down her arm, resting my hand on her waist. I lean in until my lips are barely touching hers again. “How about this?” I ask her. I part her lips with my tongue, sliding my hand beneath her shirt and across her stomach. The muscles in her stomach clench beneath my palm. “Is this your point of retreat?” I whisper.

She shakes her head slowly. “Nope. Keep going.”

I lower my lips to her neck and my fingers crawl up her stomach and come to a stop where her bra usually is, if she were wearing one right now. I bury my head in her pillow and groan. “God, Lake. Seriously? Are you trying to kill me?”

She shakes her head again. “Not retreating yet. Keep going.”

I raise my head away from her pillow and scroll over her lips with my eyes. My thumb grazes her breast and that’s when we both lose it. Our lips crash together, and as soon as I cup her breast, she moans into my mouth and wraps a leg around my thigh. I immediately slide off her and stand up.

“I think we found my point of retreat,” I say, breathing heavily. I run my hands through my hair and back up to the wall, putting a safe distance between us. “You need to get dressed so we can leave. I can’t be alone in here with you right now.”

She laughs and rolls off the bed, then heads to her closet. “And Lake? If you want to survive the day without being completely mauled by me, make sure you put on a bra.” I wink at her and walk out of the room.

19.

the honeymoon

HER EYES ARE closed, but there’s a smile spread across her lips. I lean forward and lightly kiss them. “You asleep?”

It’s late and we have to drive home tomorrow. I’m not ready to go to sleep yet. I want to drag this night out as long as I can.

She shakes her head no, then opens her eyes. “Remember the first time we didn’t call point of retreat?”

I laugh. “Well, considering it was just last night, then I’d say I remember it pretty damn well.”

“I want you to tell me all about that,” she says. She closes her eyes and cuddles up to me.

“You want me to tell you about last night?”

She nods against my chest. “Yeah. It was the best night of my life. I want you to tell me all about it.”

I smile, more than willing to tell her what I thought about the sweetest sweet I’ve ever had.

honeymoon night

“THREE MORE MINUTES,” she says. She reaches behind her and pulls down on the handle, swinging the door open. “Now carry me over the threshold, husband.”

I bend down and grab her behind the knees and pick her up, throwing her over my shoulder. She squeals, and I push the door all the way open with her feet. I take a step over the threshold with my wife. The door slams behind us, and I ease her down onto the bed.

“I smell chocolate. And flowers,” she says. “Good job, husband.”

I lift her leg up and slide her boot off. “Thank you, wife.” I lift her other leg up and slide that boot off, too. “I also remembered the fruit. And the robes.”

She winks at me and rolls over, scooting up onto the bed. When she gets settled, she leans forward and grabs my hand, pulling me toward her. “Come here, husband,” she whispers.

I start to make my way up the bed but pause when I come face to face with her shirt. “I wish you’d take this ugly thing off,” I say.

“You’re the one who hates it so much. You take it off.”

So I do. I start from the bottom this time and press my lips against her skin where her stomach meets the top of her pants, causing her to squirm. She’s ticklish there. Good to know. I unbutton the next button and slowly move my lips up another inch to her belly button. I kiss it. She lets out another moan, but it doesn’t worry me this time. I continue kissing every inch of her until the ugly shirt is lying on the floor. When my lips find their way back to hers, I pause to ask her one last time. “Wife? Are you sure you’re ready to not call retreat? Right now?”

She wraps her legs around me and pulls me closer. “I’m butterflying positive,” she says.

I grin against her lips, hoping that this entire year of being frustratingly patient will be worth it to her. “Good,” I whisper. I reach my hand beneath her and unclasp her bra, then help her slip it off. She slides her hands through my hair and pulls me against her.

By the time all of our clothes are off and we’re wrapped together under the covers, I’m breathing too hard to hear the pounding in my chest anymore, but I can definitely feel it. I press my lips to her neck and inhale a deep breath.

“Lake?” My hands are exploring her and touching her and I can’t decide if I ever want to stop long enough to actually consummate this marriage.

“What is it?” she says breathlessly.

I somehow find it in me to pull back and give myself enough space to look her in the eyes. I need her to know that she’s not the only one experiencing something for the first time right now. “I want you to know something. I’ve never . . .” I pause and pull back a little bit farther and hold my weight up on my left arm. I reach up and slip my hand to the nape of her neck, then dip my head and kiss her softly on the mouth. I look her directly in the eyes and finish telling her what I need her to know. “Lake . . . I’ve never made love to a girl before. I didn’t realize that until this very moment. You’re the first girl I’ll ever make love to.” She smiles a heartbreakingly beautiful smile that completely swallows me up. “And you’re the last girl I’ll ever make love to,” I add. I lower my head and press my forehead to hers. We keep our eyes locked together as I lift her thigh and brace myself against her.

“I love you, Will Cooper,” she whispers.

“I love you, Layken Cooper.”

I hold still against her, taking one final look at this amazing, beautiful girl beneath me. “You’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to my life,” I whisper. As soon as I push myself inside her, our lips collide, our tongues collide, our bodies collide, and our hearts collide. Then this girl completely shatters the window to my soul and crawls inside.