All That Remains (18 page)

“Whoa, wait!” West blurts, still trying to understand what’s happened. “My letters?”

“The ones you wrote while you were at Crestdale,” she explains and his mouth goes dry.

“Dani,” he hisses. Dani must have sent them to her recently. Damn her for sticking her nose in his relationship.

“Dani?”

“I didn’t mean for you to see those. I mean, I wrote them, but didn’t plan on sending them. I gave them to a friend, Dani.” He trails off as Jules’ eyes go wide with understanding.

“Oh,” she breathes. “Were you never going to tell me how you felt? Were you not planning to fight for me?” She pushes her hair back with her hand and West catches a glimpse of her anchor tattoo as she starts to chuckle. “God, I’m so stupid, I just came running to you.”

“No!” He leans in and blows out a breath, heavy with emotion. “I didn’t mail those letters because I didn’t want you to feel pity for me. I wanted to win you back on my own.”

He takes her arm and lifts it to his face to inspect the beautiful black anchor she put there. Studying it, he lowers his lips and presses a kiss to the tattoo, her arm stiffening under the touch. Now that he’s had a small taste, he can’t stop there and he leans forward slightly, his mouth grazing over her skin to the scar.

“I’m so sorry, Buffy.” The words are faint as he murmurs them over and over while his lips leave a trail of kisses along the length of the damage. “Every time I’m around you, I’m at war with myself. I want to fight for you and keep you as mine, and then I want to run and hide because you deserve better and I swear I will screw it all up again. I’ll hurt you, I’ll break you-”

He raises her arm, pressing it against the glass next to her head as he kisses it. His body is mere millimeters from hers and his fingers grip her wrist, as his thumb presses into the anchor, rubbing it softly.

She hasn’t moved or spoken since his lips touched her skin and he lifts his face from her arm, fully expecting to see an angry girl. What he finds instead breaks his control. Inches away from his face is Jules’ beautiful one. She’s watching him with silent tears running down her lovely cheeks and he wants to die.

“Don’t cry,” he pleads as his free hand touches her cheek. “You know how I hate it when you cry.”

Jules right hand wraps around the back of his neck and she pulls his face to hers, their mouths so close he can feel every shaky breath she takes blow across his lips.

“I want to hear the whole story.”

“You what?” he whispers, restraining himself from swooping down and kissing her.

“The whole story,” she repeats. “Why you left. What happened between you and my parents when I wasn’t awake.”

“Jules?” He hesitates, not wanting to give her the full story for fear of putting a divide between her and her family.

Her fingers slide into his hair and she tugs his face back slightly so she can look at him. There’s fire in those eyes as she pins them on him and repeats with more force. “I want to hear the whole story.”

“Why?”

“You loved me. I know you did, West. I laid in that hospital bed and I waited and waited for you to come back or to call and explain everything because I
knew
you wouldn’t just walk away. Then when you didn’t come, I pretended to hate you. I tried to convince myself that what we had wasn’t real or was puppy love or brought on by the stress of the tornado and everything else going on… but that was stupid. You know it and I know it. We were stupid to think we could walk away from this. You loved me and -”

West doesn’t allow her to finish her sentence before he kisses her. His hand moves from her cheek up into her hair and pulls her forward, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, claiming her for himself.

It’s the sweetest madness he’s ever known.

And he never wants to lose this feeling.

When his hips make contact with hers, it’s a mind-blowing pleasure only surpassed by the more intimate act of having her beneath him. Every part of him wants to throw her in the back of his truck, rip off her clothes, and show her the depth of his need for her. To use his body to beg hers for forgiveness. Instead, he slows down. He pulls back, even as she fights with his mouth to keep kissing him, and presses several small kisses to her lips as he allows himself to consider what this moment might mean.

“LOVE, Jules Blacklin,” he finally says when she lets him leave her mouth. “I love you. I never stopped.”

Her arm is still pressed against the glass next to their heads and she opens her fist, splaying her fingers wide as she watches his face. Words aren’t necessary as he let’s go of her wrist and runs his hand up her arm until he winds his fingers between hers. The feeling of holding her hand again is indescribable. He takes in the girl before him, her cheeks flushed pink from their kissing, her chin red from the scratchiness of the stubble along his jaw, and he finds a peace he’s been missing since that cold December night when he almost lost her.

“I’ve missed that so much,” she sighs and her head swivels against the window to look at their hands. “I missed you. I missed your strength.”

“You didn’t need my strength. You had your own.”

Her faces scrunches up, her brows furrowing in protest before they relax. “You’re right. I found my strength, but I needed yours, too.”

“No, baby, you didn’t. I knew you were strong enough to get through what happened without me. I never would have left if I thought differently -”

A shout of laughter interrupts West as more of his teammates trickle out of the stadium. The commotion reminds West they have an audience not twenty feet away and he steps back and pulls Jules away from the truck. Their hands remain connected as they fall to their sides.

“Do you want to go talk?”

“Will you tell me the whole story?”

He smiles, a small laugh leaving him at her stubbornness. “If you want me to, then yes.”

“Okay.”

Walking her to the passenger door, he looks about the parking lot. He has no idea which vehicle belongs to her. “We can pick up your car later, if that’s okay. It’ll be safe here.”

She climbs into the truck with a smile, “That’s perfect.”

“Do you mind if I take you somewhere?” he asks when he climbs in next to her and starts the engine.

She tucks her hair behind her ear, shyly sending him a glance from the corner of her eye before offering sweetly, “I’ll go anywhere you want.”

The small fear of the past kicks him gently in the gut when her big eyes look at him that way. He wishes he had time to call Dr. Steel or Dani, or even one of his brothers, so someone could tell him to stop worrying, and being afraid to screw this up and live in the moment.

“Okay, Buffy,” he teases lightly, pushing the doubt away as he’s learned to do and throwing the truck into drive. “I know the perfect place.”

Twenty-Three

Jules

Jules pinches her arm discreetly as West pulls onto the street and heads away from campus.
I must be dreaming because this is too easy
, she tells herself as she sneaks a peek at his profile. His cheeks are splotchy and red from the heat, a Russian trait he inherited. She recalls how she used to tease that he looked like he was blushing. His dark hair is damp still, and while it is shorter than it was in high-school, the thick mass still sticks up and about in its normal careless way. The most prominent change she can see is his jawline. It’s more chiseled, something she didn’t think was possible, and harder looking. He looks like the man he is, instead of a teenage boy. His shoulders and arms bare the same resemblance. Everything about him screams mature, hard, and she feels somewhat mournful of the months she missed out on. The months that made him into this man.

“You’re staring,” he remarks without looking her way and she flushes with embarrassment.

“You’ve changed.” As soon as she says the words, she wants to take them back. She feels silly remarking on his physical appearance.

“How’s that?”

Jules’ mind scrambles for something to say. “Your muscles,” she blurts out, pursing her lips and shaking her head as she turns to look out the window.

West laughs gently. ”My muscles?”

She lets out a deep breath, “Forget it. I was just thinking stupid thoughts.”

“Nothing you think is stupid,” he points out, reaching for her hand and pulling it across the cab so he can press a kiss to the top of it. Their fingers stay entwined and she sighs inwardly.

This is too easy.

Jules knocks the thought away and smiles at him. “I was admiring them, your muscles, that is,” she finally explains after a brief pause, grinning as he flexes a little in the driver’s seat. “Football’s had a positive effect on you, physically speaking.”

“You’ve changed, too.”

“I have?” Jules straightens and preens, her fingers automatically touching her face and smoothing her hair, causing West to chuckle at her again.

“You’re more beautiful, if that’s even possible -”

“Oh, stop.”

“It’s true. Plus, your hair is a deeper red… darker.”

“Oh, well that’s L’Oreal,” she laughs as she tugs on the strands. “Katie was bored and wanted to color my hair.”

“It’s still you. I like it.”

“Thank you.”

They drive for twenty minutes south of campus before West pulls down a road to a local park. The area is crowded with stay-at-home moms watching their kids play on the playground. A trail that runs around the edge is spotted with joggers and people out walking their pets. Jules admires the area as West drives past the crowd and down a small road leading to another, more secluded, section of the park. There’s a lake and an older playground across from tennis courts surrounded by woods.

They park in the corner of the lot and West turns off the engine and sits there staring out the front windshield at the smooth water in front of them.

“Austin and I were never a couple.”

“I know.”

Surprised, she turns and unbuckles her seatbelt, to face him. “You know?”

“He stopped by to see me after my game last Saturday and told me. I’m sorry I didn’t give you the chance to explain-” He stops and runs his hand through his hair. “Not that you owe me an explanation, but I should have let you tell me what was going on.”

He snaps his seatbelt and pops open his door, “Come on.”

They jump out of the truck and walk side by side to the playground. When they reach the swing set, they both take a seat and Jules kicks off with her toe letting the slight breeze cool her as she swings. West remains still, his eyes following her as she moves back and forth.

“How do you like Freemont?” she asks as she pumps her legs and moves through the air.

He laughs out loud and she giggles at herself. “Too simple?”

“I think we’re past small talk, Jules,” he points out. “But, to answer your question, it’s okay. I’d rather be at A&M. It was always my plan to be there.”

She assumes he didn’t make it into A&M based on grades and missing the last half of senior year, and she feels guilt rising up. “Sorry.”

“For what? It’s not your fault. I could have gotten in.”

“I just assumed with your leaving school-”

“Jules, I finished school at Crestdale. Believe it or not, I was a good student.”

Her eyes flick to him before she pumps her legs harder, propelling her swing higher. “I always knew you weren’t the bad boy you pretended to be.”

“You always knew me better than I even knew myself.”

“So why Freemont?”

“Football. My counselor at Crestdale decided I needed to play again and they let me walk on.” He shrugs.

“Surely with your dad’s pull and your name you could have gotten a walk-on at A&M.”

“Sure, as a bench warmer. Roberts is a beast and a fifth year senior,” he says about A&M’s starting QB. Jules nods in agreement at his assessment, having seen him play. “I wasn’t ready to walk-on and play when we approached them in June. We were a little late, anyway. So Dr. Steel pulled some strings with friends and got me an interview with Coach. Freemont was happy to offer me a spot.”

“And you’re getting to play?”

He laughs, “Yeah, Jules. I get to play.”

“You missed it, didn’t you? Playing football.”

“There’s only one thing I’ve ever missed more,” he replies. The warmth and intensity of his eyes as they lock onto hers and make his point for him.

Jules takes a shaky breath and drags her foot along the ground to stop her swing. She takes a small hop off as it slows down and she lands perfectly in the sand, the swing hitting her backside as it continues to move back and forth. Looking around, she decides to sit on a nearby bench so they can talk more seriously. West follows as she moves a few feet over and takes a seat. He stands in front of her and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his loose cargo shorts.

“You’re ready to talk, huh?” he asks and she nods.

“I feel like I have so many explanations to give you. Not only from that night, but before that too. I don’t know where to begin,” he admits.

“I think we both have a lot of explanations to make. Let’s start with what happened that night after the wreck. I woke up a few days afterwards and you were already gone.”

“I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how that felt for you.” West falls to the bench and takes her hand. He clears his throat and explains, “I swear, Jules, I never would have left if I thought there was another choice. I was there for days. I didn’t just leave. If you believe I would just walk away then there is no reason to explain what happened.”

“I have to be honest,” she pulls her hand from his and tucks it under her crossed arms. “Honestly? I don’t know what I believe anymore and I don’t understand what happened to make you think you had to leave.”

“Austin said he explained the situation to you back then.” She frowns, not quite sure what he’s referring to. West runs his hands through his hair in agitation. “Okay, you know the people in the car we hit? That other couple? They were pressing charges and threatening to sue. They were going after my dad, your parents, Rick and Aubrey; they weren’t even injured, but they claimed mental distress and -” He shakes his head, clearly disgusted and cuts himself off. “Anyway, Rick fessed up pretty quickly once Aubrey was able to tell the cops about the incident. Lucky for us, she called 9-1-1 and was on the phone with them when it happened, so they had proof from the call records.”