Escaping Me (16 page)

“
Hey, asshat!” Mallory's voice rings out from the driveway.  I've been so wrapped up in what is happening right in front of me that I didn't even hear Zeke's truck come up the driveway.  When I look down from the porch, I see Mallory tightening the chain around Zeke's truck hitch, which is now attached to the axle of Wesley's shiny new car.  What kind of prick drives a little car like that, anyway?

“
I suggest you get your hands off my sister before this guy…” She pauses to point at Zeke hanging out the driver's side window of his truck.  He obliges with a salute and a smile.  “Drags your pretty little car down to the river and turns it into a fucking boat.”  Her face is serious, but I can tell by the look in her eyes she is enjoying herself.

“
I swear to God, if you—” Wesley stands firm, his grip tightening around Whitney’s arm as she tries to wiggle away.  Zeke revs his truck engine, emitting a cloud of smoke from his exhaust, cutting Wes off.

“
I think they are done messing around.” I reach for Whitney's hand.  “Mallory's batshit crazy and Zeke's got a lead foot.”   Wes finally drops his hand.  “The next time you put your hands on my girl,” I threaten, stepping toward him, tucking Whitney behind me, and poking Wes's chest with my finger,  “I will end your fucking life.”

“
Don't touch me,” he spits.  “I'll press charges if you do it again.”

“
It's going to be hard to call the cops with your head shoved up your ass.”  If he didn't think I was serious before, he definitely knows it now.  I bump my chest against his and let my heated stare burn into him from an uncomfortably close distance.  He cowers away and takes his bullshit threats with him. 

“
This is the kind of guy you want to be with?” he asks as he backs down the first step.

“
I think he is,” Whitney confirms as she wraps her arms around my waist and rests her chin on my shoulder. He shakes his head and walks away.  Zeke throws his truck in drive and gives the Audi a little tug to speed things along.  Wes's stride immediately increases to a run.

“
You're all fucking crazy,” he calls out as he climbs behind the wheel of his car and starts the engine.

“
Tell my dad his little pain in the ass says hello!” Mallory relays as she releases the chain from Zeke's hitch.  Wes floors it down the driveway and turns onto the road.  We all stand silent, watching the sparks from the chain he is dragging behind him.   When he disappears from sight, I face Whitney.  When her eyes meet mine, she starts laughing.  Like hysterically, buries-her-head-in-my-chest laughing.  By the time she stops to take a breath, I've joined in, but I make sure not to release my arms from her waist.  There is no way I am letting her slip away from me again. 

“
Did that really just happen?” she asks between giggles.

“
You bet your ass it did,” Mallory chimes as she bounces up on the porch.  “I told you I hated that guy.”  She blows a kiss to Zeke, who is laughing from his truck as he turns it around to leave.  “He's lucky I didn't just set the thing on fire,” she adds as she opens the door to go in the house.  Before she is through the door, she spins back.  “Cole's telling you the truth about Missy.  She's into boobs, not balls.”

“
Noted.” Whitney nods her head.  “Thanks, Mal.”

“
Anytime, big sister,” she says as she closes the door behind her.

Silence falls over us.  We are alone.  This is my chance to tell her everything I thought of on the drive over, but she speaks before I have a chance to confess everything.

“I'm sorry I left with him.  I should have told him to leave me alone and just gone home with you the way I'd planned.”

“
No, I 'm sorry.”  I take her face in my hands and rest my forehead against hers.  “I shouldn't have gone with Missy.  I should have just trusted that you'd come back and waited like you asked me to.”  I want to kiss her so bad it is killing me, but I’m not sure if that's what she wants yet.  She has every right to be mad at me, and even though I know she is staying—for the time being—I don’t want to push my luck.

“
Can we just forget about everything that just happened and go back to what we were doing before my dickhead ex-boyfriend showed up?”

“
Absolutely.” I smile as I slowly lower my lips to hers.  When she returns the gesture, I take full advantage, kissing her with everything I have, motivated by everything I still want to say to her.  Even if we don’t work out in the end, I want her to remember what it feels like to have my lips on hers.

“
Wow,” she breathes when I finally release her from my grasp.  “Can we please go to your place now?  I feel like I've been waiting forever to see it.”

“
It?”
  I can’t help myself as I take her hand in mine and lead her down the stairs to my truck. 
“
Are you talking about my dick, Whitney?”

She closes her eyes as a smile crosses her face, and she shakes her head.  “Just get in the truck so we can go.”  She points at the passenger side door and steps around me, heading for my seat behind the wheel.

“What do you think you're doing?  You know the rule.”

“
Well…” She opens the door, climbs up on the side of the truck, looks over the open door at me.  “When you kiss a girl like you just kissed me, it's kind of hard to hide the taste of whiskey.” 
Busted.
  “So that means girls drive, drunks ride,” she chuckles.  “Get in.”

Chapter 19 – Whitney

By the time we make it back to his place, he has started to sober up.  I'm sure the excitement of what happened with Wesley and the thought he had about losing me are forcing the alcohol out his system a little faster than usual.  He may have been trying to appear sober because he knows what is supposed to happen when we walk through that front door.  I know that it is definitely on my mind.  He sits as close to me as he possibly can on our drive home with his hand firmly placed on my thigh.  It feels nice.  I am still a little bit riled by the thought that I almost lost him, too.

“You ready for the 'big reveal’?” he asks as we climb out of his truck.  I hand him his keys back so he can unlock the front door.  The nervousness I had earlier is back and my sweaty palms are evidence. 

“
Yeah.” I smile, following him up the steps as he carries my overnight bag.  The lock clicks, summoning the butterflies in my stomach to flutter, causing a whirlwind effect I can feel all the way down in my toes.  He swung the front door open and motions for me to enter into the dark space.  I hear him shuffle in after I step over the threshold and set my bag on the ground. 

The windows across the back of the room let the moonlight flood in, but it is still too dark to really tell am I was looking at.  When he flips on the lights and my eyes adjust, I can tell that his hard work has definitely paid off.  Dark-stained hardwood floors stretch across the open space.  The living room area to my left is furnished with a very comfortable white canvas sofa.  Two chairs with a swirled white and blue pattern on them that look oddly familiar sit on the opposite side with a rustic-looking coffee table in the center.  The pieces are gathered around a stone fireplace that has to be an original fixture of the house.  The white and navy-striped rug that is spread underneath the setting pulls in the colors of the furniture and the deep navy shade on the wall.  The space isn’t very big, and I would never have picked such a bold color, but with the backside of the house being mostly windows that let in a ton of light, it works.  It is the perfect contrast of light and dark.  He even managed the fine details—throw pillows, a scattering of vases and candles, and other decorations.

“This is amazing.”  I find him nervously awaiting my reaction behind me.

“
You think?” His eyes light up.

“
Yes.”  I walk through the space, running my fingers across the top of the smooth steel top of the dining table that sits behind the living room before turning my attention to the refurbished kitchen. “You really did all this?” I ask, admiring the white kitchen cabinets and granite tops of the counters.

“
Not entirely,” he chuckles.  “You mom helped me with the furniture and the color choices, and Zeke helped with resurfacing the cabinets and floors.”

“
I knew those chairs looked familiar!” I shake my head and laugh.  “I loaded those into her trailer last week.  I'm going to have to talk to her about her sneaking around.”

He grins.  “Your mom is pretty awesome.  Don't be too hard on her.”

“I won't,” I agree as I walk back over to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling myself tight to him.  “I'm so proud of you.”

His arms circle my waist, knocking the air out of me as he squeezes me against him.  I can feel the years’ worth of having people beat him down in the tension of his arms.  Arching my back to see his face, I place my hand on his cheek.

“I mean it, Cole.  I knew this place would look awesome, but what you've done is so much more than that.”

He doesn’t waste any time pressing his lips to mine.  It isn’t the same as some of our more passionate kisses.  It is sweet and tender.  Full of love and gratitude.

“You're amazing,” he says as he removes his lips from mine.  The loving look in his eyes is full of pain.  “I'm so sorry about tonight.  I should have—”

“
Stop.” I press my finger to his lips.  “It's my fault that tonight was such a mess.”

“
It was kind of a clusterfuck, wasn't it?” He laughs.

“
Yeah.” I match his sentiment.  “But I shouldn't have gone off with Wesley.  I was just trying to keep you from getting in a fight, and then I saw you with Missy and assumed the worst.”

“
I should have just waited for you like you asked, but I assumed the worst too.  I was just so sure that I'd lost you.”

“
We've both been burned.  I think it was a natural reaction.  I meant what I said though.  I want to be with you.”

“
Me too.” He kisses my lips again while he smiles.  “And I meant what I said.  I'd never lie to you or hurt you.  I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you, Whitney.”

“
Good,” I breathe as I place my lips back on his.  “Can we just put this whole night behind us?”  I pause, pushing aside my anxiety.  “I really want to see what you've done with the bedroom.”

* * *

In true Cole fashion, he makes me wait.  He shows me to the bathroom and hands me my bag.

“
Why don't you do whatever it is that girls do when they 'freshen up' and I'm going to get everything ready.”

“
It's really not necessary,” I tell him as I step through the bathroom door.  The white tile floor is sparkling beneath my feet, and the claw foot tub invites me to rinse the summer heat off my skin. 

“
I just need a few minutes to put the finishing touches on the bedroom,” he assures me.

“
On second thought.” I pull back the shower curtain.  “Maybe a quick shower.”  He reaches under the small sink and hands me a fluffy towel with a smile.  He leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead.

“
A shower is a great idea,” he beams.  “That will give me time to make sure everything is perfect.”

“
Are you insinuating that I'm dirty?” I tease.

“
No.” He shakes his head.  “Not yet.” He waggles his eyebrows seductively as he backs out of the door.  I giggle as I shut the door between us. 

By the time I've taken a quick shower and changed into my pajamas—a simple white tank top and my favorite pair of pink cotton shorts—I have to give myself a pep talk in front of the mirror as I comb the tangles out of my hair.

“Relax,” I say, taking in a deep breath.  I know that whatever happens tonight is going to change everything.  Sex is a big deal.  At least to me, and I am pretty sure he feels the same way, judging from his desire to make sure everything is
perfect
.  Things between us may have started with the intention of not getting too serious, but after seeing the way he reacted to Wesley's arrival and the way I felt when I saw him with Missy, I know there is no way either of us has feelings that aren’t too serious.

As I smooth my moisturizer on my face, my reflection staring back at me, I wonder what is going to happen to us when the summer is over.  Can I really be that girl who just had a fling?  Can I be a part of a relationship that has an expiration date?  I am planning on going back to college in the fall.  I actually turned in a couple applications for transfers.  I don’t even want to be in the same town as Wesley—or my father for that matter.  Especially after Wes said that my father had sent him to retrieve me.  I’m not just something that can be retrieved, and I’m sure as hell not going to go back with Wesley because my father thinks he is the appropriate choice for me.

I am also thinking about declaring a major.  I haven’t really given much thought to what kind of job I am going to have after college.  My assumption was always that I'd marry Wesley and be the dutiful wife and stay-at-home mom he wanted me to be.  College was really just a formality.  Most of the women in the circle of people my family associates with have degrees they never use.  My step-mom, Jessica, has a Bachelor's in Fashion Merchandising.  After she graduated, she didn't even apply for a job. She just hitched her wagon to the lawyer with a prosperous career ahead of him.  She did perfect her craft at Nordstrom with my dad's credit card, but she sure as hell didn't get paid for it.