Don't Speak (A Modern Fairytale, #5)

He began to understand that having her visit him at Duke was never going to happen, and when he received his courses over e-mail, he realized that coming down to the Banks with any regularity was going to be almost impossible. Besides his aggressive senior-year course load, he had been given a starting position with the Devils, an honor that he couldn’t turn down but that would mean weekend practices and Saturday games up and down the East Coast.

If she wouldn’t commit to Thanksgiving, he didn’t know with any certainty when he would see her again. But if they could just get over that hurdle together and commit to sharing their relationship with their families, he hoped the Cornishes would accept him and that she’d be able to come and see him when she wanted to, e-mail without fear of getting caught. Hell, he’d buy her a cell phone and a set up a hot spot so they could call and text too. He’d do whatever he had to, to keep her in his life. Maybe their families wouldn’t be happy about the relationship initially, but at least it wouldn’t be a secret anymore. When he was feeling especially hopeful, Erik even imagined their parents being so understanding that maybe Laire could spend the entirety of Christmas break with him in Raleigh. He had several thousand dollars saved up in his bank account from birthday and Christmas gifts—he could even buy her a used car so she could come and go as she pleased.

They just had to choose to make their relationship a priority and agree on the way to share it with their friends and families. And as far as Erik was concerned, Thanksgiving was not only ideal, but the first possible opportunity once their time this summer was over.

He refused to think in terms of saying good-bye to her or ending their relationship in any way. For starters, he couldn’t bear it—the thought of her with someone else made him physically ill—but also, Erik Rexford wasn’t a quitter. He believed in the strength of the feelings they shared. He believed they could go the distance—marriage, children, forever—if they could just hold on to one another. And he couldn’t imagine ever loving or trusting another woman the way he did Laire. Everything about her was genuine, and he wanted—no, he needed—her in his life to give it perspective and meaning and foundation.

So when his parents decided to drive Hillary back to the Asheville Christian School together on August tenth, tomorrow, leaving Utopia Manor empty for two whole days, he also knew it was his last major chance to convince her of his plans for them before he returned to school the following weekend. He had to get her to agree to spend some real time with him so he could sell her on Thanksgiving once and for all.

“’Evenin’, Erik,” said Ms. Sebastian, who’d finally stopped giving him the stink eye about three weeks ago.

“Hey, Ms. Sebastian,” he said, giving her a warm smile.

He knew that Laire not only looked up to Ms. Sebastian as a boss, but he sensed that she felt the sort of affection for the older woman that she had on reserve for the mother she’d lost. And although it had taken him most of the summer to win her over, he respected Ms. Sebastian. He appreciated the way she looked after Laire. In fact, part of him was counting on her to keep looking after Laire even after he’d returned to Duke.

“Headed back to school soon?”

He nodded grimly. “Next weekend.”

The older woman’s eyes flicked over to Laire, who was taking an order in the dining room. “She’s done well here this summer.”

She had done well. She’d stayed a busser for only a couple of weeks before her promotion to waitress, and he had it on good authority that she was Ms. Sebastian’s star employee.

“You’ve been good to her, ma’am.”

Her eyes nailed his. “She’ll miss you awful.”

“I’ll miss her too,” he said, a lump making his throat tight. “Any chance you could let her off early tomorrow?”

“What’s tomorrow?”

“My folks are leavin’ to take my sister back to school in Asheville. I’ll have the house to myself.”

“And you want her to . . .?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I just want time with her, ma’am. Nothin’ else.”

Ms. Sebastian searched his face, then nodded once. “If she wants to leave early, I won’t stand in her way.”

“Thank you,” said Erik.

She turned to leave, then pivoted back around. “Good luck at school, Erik.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said.

“You’ll come back?” she asked quickly. “To the Banks?”

He nodded. “At Thanksgivin’. I’m hopin’ Laire will . . .”

“Will . . .?” She raised her eyebrows in question.

“I hope she’ll be ready to tell her father about us by then so we can . . . spend the holiday together. Move forward.”

“Ah,” said Ms. Sebastian, grimacing. She took a deep breath and sighed, her eyes heavy with concern. “Well, good luck,” she said again softly before heading back to the kitchen.

Not exactly a ringing endorsement, he thought.

Laire approached the bar with a tray and set it on the busing counter at the corner. “I’m almost done.”

He took a twenty out of his wallet and slipped it under his glass. “Meet me at the chairs?”

She grinned at him and nodded. “See you there!”