Текст книги "All of Me"

Автор книги: Kelly Moran

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

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return to me

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Midsummer: Thirteen Years Before

Cole stood by his bedroom window, looking down at Mia while she sat reading in the grove. He’d been doing a lot of that lately. Watching Mia. These feelings for her had been stirring in his gut since the first time he saw her. He’d already received the warning glare and talk from his mother. Covingtons were set to higher standards than where Mia came from. Meaning, the trash should be kept out, where it belonged.

According to Mother.

He hadn’t touched Mia. Not since the night of the bonfire last year when he’d almost kissed her. But damn, he wanted to. She was only sixteen. He was eighteen. Bound for Harvard and great things. In so many ways, she was just a kid. A kid he had no business dreaming about.

The winters in Charlotte were long, this last winter the longest. He’d thought about her often and wondered what she was doing. Who she was with.

Their long summer talks remained in his head. Her voice, so soft and innocent. It didn’t matter what crap his mother threw at him, Mia could calm him down. Make him forget. He’d spent less and less time with his friends and more time with her. She didn’t care what car he drove or what school he went to. There was no competition with her. He could be himself.

Mia had more class and dignity than the whole of Father’s country club. Yet, to his parents, she’d always be the help’s daughter. A person to acknowledge only in private, to be polite. He’d done that for three years.

Dean was being groomed for the family business now that he’d passed the bar. Cole had already gotten the career lecture from Father. He had no interest in finance law. He didn’t know what he wanted to do. And what in the hell was wrong with that? What eighteen-year-old knew what he wanted to do with his life?

That was completely unacceptable for a Covington. Cole was sick to death of being a Covington. What major would Mia think he should study? She knew him so well. She was the only one who knew him. Their time together, their world, felt like a cherished secret between just them.

He pressed a hand to the glass, wishing it was her skin. But that couldn’t happen. If his mother got bent out of shape over a few glances, imagine her rage if she found out he did more than look.

Still, a guy could dream.

At the knock on his door, he turned. “What’s up, Sis?”

Lacey walked across the room and followed his gaze out the window to the grove. A knowing smile crossed her face. “Why don’t you tell her how you feel?”

Cole barked a laugh. “As if. Imagine what people would say.”

Lacey shook her head in disappointment.

He didn’t have the heart to burst her bubble.

“You’re a snob.”

He wasn’t. He just pretended to be for the sake of family reputation. One day—one day he’d say to hell with that and go after what he wanted.

“Hey, kid,” Dean said from the doorway.

Both he and Lacey turned, but Cole knew his brother was talking to him. “Hey. Thought you weren’t coming in till next week.”

“I’ll catch you two later.” Lacey gave Dean a quick hug.

Dean closed the door. Cole raised his brows in question. He crossed his arms and leaned against the windowsill.

“Mother wants me to have a chat with you.”

Cole tipped his head back, thunking it against the window. “What now?”

Dean laughed. “She comin’ down hard on you, is she?”

Cole straightened. “Just lay it on me.”

Dean sat on the edge of the bed. “Where to start? Your grades? She thinks you’re distracted.” Dean cleared his throat. “By the maid’s daughter.”

“Jesus, Dean. Not you, too.”

Dean lifted his hand, his face saying this wasn’t coming from him. “Look, Mia’s a great girl.”

“But?”

Dean shrugged. “No but. She’s a great girl. My advice to you is to make sure you know what you want before she realizes you’ve been watching.”

Unsure how to interpret this, Cole stared at his brother. “You don’t care if I chase the help’s daughter? Mother does.”

Dean sighed. “Here’s the thing with Mother. She’s an unhappy woman, which means she’s only happy making everyone else around her miserable, too.” Dean stood. “You know why she’s so hard on you, more than Lace and me?”

Cole shrugged in nonchalance, but inside he was dying to hear Dean’s thought.

“Because you stand up to her. You don’t fit her perfect mold. Lacey and I do what we can to keep her off our backs.” Dean’s eyes lost their spark, leaving an almost dejected absence in its place. “Don’t lose that edge, Cole. It’s what makes you so passionate, so unique.”

Cole didn’t know whether to hug him or laugh at him. The perfect son, in a roundabout way, had just told the black sheep he envied him.

Cole turned and looked out the window again, but Mia wasn’t sitting in the grove anymore. She and Lacey were walking toward the beach, laughing at some joke. Damn, she was beautiful when she laughed. Made his chest ache in a sweet, painful way.

He sighed. Better to watch from a distance.

When Cole looked back to ask Dean if he wanted a swim, too, Dean was gone.

Present

“Rose!” Another crash hit the floor. “Rose!”

Two days and Cole still hadn’t come down. Two days of yelling for Rose. Two days with no human contact, no food.

Mia waited him out downstairs, hoping to hear his door crash open. Hoping this plan of hers wouldn’t make her fall flat on her face. She’d moved her things into the bedroom next door to his. She didn’t think he noticed. One of the nights was a loud one, but she didn’t step one foot inside his room.

She was waiting for him to come out, to acknowledge he needed help. Then she’d do what she could if he let her.

After a few more crashes, Cole quieted down again. She closed her eyes and sighed. He needed to eat. Hopefully that basic human need would be enough to drive him out.

She finished the last of her sweet tea and rose to rinse out the glass. She stared out the window at the darkening sky and tried to remember when she last saw the sunset over the ocean. The answer came immediately. Ten years ago, since she hadn’t had the heart to return to the coast after what happened.

She glanced up at the ceiling. He was quiet now. She could slip out for ten minutes. Sliding into her flip-flops, she closed the kitchen door behind her.

The smell hit her first. The distinct scent of salt water and seaweed. The cry of gulls above could barely be heard over the crash of the tide. She closed her eyes as a breeze hit her face, humid and soothing. She’d forgotten how peaceful this place could be. How healing.

Opening her eyes, she stepped off the porch and onto the sand. As she edged toward the water, the red and purple sky melted into the green blue of the water until a thin black line separated the heavens from earth. Their last day together had been like this.

Warm. Beautiful.

Her cell buzzed. She pulled it out and answered, hoping everything was okay with Ginny.

“It’s Lacey. I just . . . wanted to see how things were going.”

Mia kicked off her flip-flops and sat on the beach. Cole’s house was in a private area of Wilmington Beach. Not a soul was around to hear her.

“It’s going. He’s on a hunger strike currently.” Mia elaborated for Lacey’s benefit.

“That’s brilliant. He hasn’t kicked you out yet?”

“Oh, he has. Several times, in fact.”

Lacey laughed, a sound from deep in her belly, one that Mia hadn’t heard in too many years. They’d been friends once. Mia didn’t realize how much she missed that, having been too ravaged by the hurt to see past it. Cole wasn’t the only thing taken away from her back then.

Mia didn’t have any friends. She’d never really had friends. There were a few women from college she talked to once in a while, but over the past couple years that had dwindled down to Christmas cards. She had no one. The truth hurt. There was only Ginny.

“How are you holding up?” Lacey asked at length.

“Oh, you know. Slumming it like this is hard.”

Lacey didn’t laugh this time, but Mia heard the smile through her words. “It is beautiful there, isn’t it? I miss it so much sometimes.” She paused. “Oh, Mia. You deserved so much more than you got in life.”

Mia wasn’t expecting that, nor the swift wave of tears clogging her throat. Lacey didn’t say what she did out of pity, and Mia knew that. Lacey, Dean, and Cole weren’t like the other Covingtons. She pressed her lips together until she could speak. “That’s nice of you to say, Lace.”

At hearing her long-ago nickname, Lacey must’ve been feeling sentimental also. Lacey sniffed. “I have to go. I’ll check back in with you soon.”

*   *   *

He was freaking starving and she was strolling on the damn beach. She made quite the vision, though, standing there against the sunset. He’d pictured that in his head about a thousand times, too.

He still couldn’t believe she was here. Like a crazy hallucination. Part of him was so damn relieved he wanted to weep. Maybe he’d get to say all the things he didn’t before. Amend the past and let her know how very sorry he was that he couldn’t be stronger for her. The other part of him just wanted her gone. Back in his memory, where he couldn’t hurt her again. Either way, he wasn’t so numb anymore. Bits of emotion seeped their way through the cracks.

Seeing her out there made his chest splinter wide open.

He kept waiting for her to disappear. Dissolve into nothing, making him realize this was all a cosmic joke at his expense. He blinked his eyes, looked again. She was still there.

And the nimble little minx wasn’t going to feed him. He’d have to go downstairs. He hadn’t tried stairs in months. He needed to go down now while she was out, so she couldn’t see how weak he’d become.

He rose and stood in place for several seconds to get his bearings. Once he felt ready, he bore weight on the left leg and quickly transferred to the right. This concentrated form of walking was how he got to and from the bathroom. Stairs were an entirely different matter. He made it out of the bedroom and stared down the curving staircase, which was too wide to grasp each railing with both hands.

He scooted to his right to hold the railing with his strong side. He hopped down the first step, landing only on his right leg. When that seemed to work, he repeated the motion until he reached the bottom step, sweating and completely out of breath. After waiting a good minute, he hobbled into the kitchen doorway just as Mia came back in from the beach.

Her eyes widened. “You’re out of your room.”

“And you’re still here. Where’s Rose?”

She walked to the sink to wash her hands. “I gave her the rest of the week off.”

“You gave her . . . You had no authority to do that!”

Drying her hands on a towel, she shrugged. “She’s getting up there in years, Cole. You can’t keep her on those hours. I’m here.”

Yeah, she was. Why? He should be pissed. She’d barged in here after ten years, pushing her way back into his life and throwing his world into chaos. Looking at her, at everything he wanted and couldn’t have, he just couldn’t hold on to the anger.

Through the years, he’d come to idolize the memory of her. Put her up on a pedestal. What they had was so long ago and they were so young. It still got to him, either because of how it ended or because of the thought of what could have been. He hadn’t had anyone in his life since she walked out that he could trust as openly as he did her. No one he connected with on such a deep level.

“What’s for dinner?”

“BLTs.”

He made a noncommittal sound.

She fisted her hands on her hips. “I thought you’d hold out at least another day. I wasn’t planning on something special.”

He didn’t need special. He just needed sustenance. “It smells good.”

“I haven’t started cooking yet.”

Right. He hobbled to the table and plopped down in a chair as she pulled a package of bacon out of the fridge. After she laid the strips in a pan, she turned to face him. “I was wondering if it would be okay with you if Rose moved into the guesthouse? She’s staying with her daughter and could use the privacy. Plus, it would save her from driving.”

“Aren’t you staying there? Where would you sleep?”

A crooked smile creased her mouth. “Not kicking me out today?” He didn’t respond, so she shrugged. “I’ve been in the bedroom next to yours the past two nights.”

The bedroom right next to his. A whisper away.

“Is it okay?”

He couldn’t concentrate with her around. “Fine, fine.”

“She needs normal hours, too. Nine to five.”

“Fine.” He should’ve done that long ago, but he’d grown too dependent on Rose.

Mia poured a glass of orange juice and set it in front of him. He drank it as she sliced tomatoes. The smell of applewood bacon filled the kitchen and he damned near leapt for the pan. She finished compiling two sandwiches and set them in front of him. He had just enough manners left to wait for her to join him. They ate in uncomfortable silence until she pushed away the second half of her BLT.

“You still eat like a bird,” he mumbled.

“And you still eat like a famine is coming.”

She glanced at his empty plate, then up at him, and a smile traced the corners of her mouth. He almost choked. The smile eventually made it to her eyes. He couldn’t look away from all that blue. Somewhere in the space between them the past collided with the present.

“Your eyes are still blue.” He hadn’t realized he’d said it aloud until her smile fell and her eyes rounded in painful memory.

Long ago, when either was having a bad day, he would tell her, Your eyes are still blue. And she’d retort by saying . . .

“And you’re still rich.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth. Back to her eyes. “Yeah.”

Abruptly, she stood and cleared their plates, pulling him from the past. A dull ache throbbed behind his eyes. She loaded the plates into the dishwasher and then sliced some strawberries into a small dish. After adding whipping cream, she set them in front of him.

“Dessert.”

This wasn’t his idea of dessert, but he took a bite and chewed.

“Now that you’re done brooding upstairs, I’m making some changes around here.”

He dropped his fork and stared at her. “Like what?”

“Tomorrow, you shower and shave. You look like a vagrant. Afterward, I’ll cut your hair. And we’re burning that robe.”

He looked at himself, unable to argue. He’d let himself go to hell. He hadn’t even cared. Strange thing, he kinda cared now. If the last memory she had of him wasn’t bad enough, this one would trump it. He needed to start complying with her demand to help him, show her he could be a good guy again. Then at least when she left this time around, it would be under better circumstances and with a better image of him.

“I’m implementing a diet high in calcium, vitamin C, and protein. You’re also doing one hour a day in the gym with me three times a week. The days we’re not in the gym, we’ll take a walk. I’m off on Sundays, so you are, too.”

He’d barely made it down the stairs tonight. “And if I refuse?”

Her grin was wicked.

He sighed. The sooner he complied with this, the sooner she’d be gone. Though that thought broke a chunk of his heart away, he knew she had to go. They were all wrong for each other as kids and nothing on that front had changed. The longer she stayed, the blurrier the line became. In his mind anyway. She still hated him.

He sucked in a sharp breath when his leg suddenly throbbed, not in the usual spot, but lower in the calf. It intensified until he cried out.

She knelt by his feet. “What’s wrong?”

“Hurts,” he ground out.

“Where?”

He pointed.

“Does it usually hurt there?”

He shook his head.

“Does it feel hot or more like a cramp?”

“Cramp.”

She stood. “It’s a charley horse. Bring your toes up and flex your foot.”

He did as she said and the pain lessened. He blew out a breath.

Mia walked to the fridge and pulled out a Gatorade. “You’re dehydrated. Drink this tonight. If the pain returns, just flex your foot. With your injuries, you have to watch for blood clots. If it ever feels hot, sharp, and stabbing, you call the doctor right away.”

He nodded, bringing his foot down. The leg still cramped, but not as harshly as before. She knelt by his feet again, this time with a bottle of hand lotion from the sink. “What are you doing?”

“Rubbing the calf to loosen the muscle.” She squirted a quarter-sized amount of lotion into her palm.

“No.”

“But, Cole . . .”

She could not touch him. He’d lose it. “I said no!”

The roaring tone of his voice careened her backward. He felt like an absolute shit but couldn’t bring himself to apologize.

Several seconds ticked by before she straightened. She rubbed the lotion into her hands. The silence continued. “I’m going upstairs to straighten your room. The next time you have a flashback or an episode, I’ll be there. We’ll see if we can get you through it.”

She was still too damn nice for her own good.

As she walked past, he grabbed her arm. “Why are you doing this?”

She didn’t look at him. “Closure.”

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