Next August (13 page)

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Authors: Kelly Moore

BOOK: Next August
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“Yes. Oh, god, yes.”

He pulls part way out and thrust in harder this time. He grabs my hips. His fingers are going to leave a mark, and I could not care less. I push back against him, and he groans.

“Be still,” he says.

He’s getting harder inside me, and it makes me lose control. My body convulses in an orgasm. He pants as my body tightens around him.

“You. Feel. So. Fucking. Good.” He says between each punishing thrust. As another orgasm spirals through me, he releases his own energy in a rush, calling my name.

He pulls out of me and spins me around. He kisses me like a starving man who has just been presented with a gourmet meal.

“I think you missed me,” I say as I hold his cock in my hands. It’s still hard.

“I’m nowhere near done with you.” He picks me up and thrusts into me again and again and again, until we are both limp, like two overcooked noodles. My legs are barely holding me up, and his thighs are visibly trembling. We gingerly step out of the shower, dry each other off, and lay naked in each other’s arms until we fall asleep.

I wake just as it’s getting dark, and look at the clock. Late evening. August is deeply asleep, his chest lightly rising and falling. Maybe it’s jet lag.
Or maybe it’s so much amazing sex,
I think, and suppress a giggle. I gently untangle from him and climb out of bed. There’s some pain in my bottom, where he intruded me in the shower. The pain doesn’t bother me, but the memory makes me shiver. I could never have imagined someone could make me comfortable with those kinds of sexual escapades, yet here I am, comfortable as a cat on a warm window ledge. I watch him sleeping for a moment, my heart swelling with love, before grabbing my robe and walking downstairs. I’m painfully hungry. I didn’t eat much yesterday, and so the combination of too few calories and too much exertion is kicking in hard. Stella is just cleaning up as I enter the kitchen.

“Hey,” I say.

She smiles at me.” You two never came down for dinner.”

I blush. There’s really nothing I can say to that. Of course, she knows what we were doing.” Is there anything left over from dinner?”

She pulls out two containers and warms them up. I pick a bottle of wine and ask her if she’d like to join me. She agrees, so we sit beside one another at the bar. I have a plate and a glass. She just has a glass.” Are you hungry?” I ask. I realize I never see Stella eat.

“I eat so much as I cook, I’m rarely hungry.” She shrugs.

“That makes sense. This is nice. You and I never get to eat together. Or me eating and drinking and you just drinking.” I wink at her, but she doesn’t laugh. I find that odd. She’s always jolly. “Is there something wrong?” I ask.

“I like you, Nash,” she says. “You are very good for Mr. Rylan.”

“August is very good for me too.” I smile and blush again.

“I worry about your work with his father. Tom was not good to Mr. Rylan. Even talking about that situation brings out the worst in him. Young Mr. Rylan has had to lie, just to cover up for his father, too many times. I don’t want you to hurt him by dredging up the past.”

I take her hand in mine.” That’s the last thing I want to do. I think I can actually help them. Both of them.”

“Just be careful dear.” She hugs me to her. “You know, it’s not surprising to me that Mr. Rylan would end up with a nurse.”

“Why?” I say. “Oh, because of his scholarships? I know he said the nurses were kind to him as a child in the hospital after the accident.”

She nods. “It was more than kindness to that boy. I think it was probably the last time he felt as if it was okay to grieve. There, with those women who took care of him while he was hurting. Inside, and out.”

I touch Stella’s knee. “That’s what I want to do for him, too. Take care of him, inside and out.”

 


 

I don’t feel tired, so I decide to explore the wall of books in August’s office for something to read. Most of them are business related, but there are a few on mountain climbing, geography, and history. I skim my hand across the titles as I move further down the wall. One book stands out for its sheer basicness— a small brown volume with gold lettering.
Little Women
by Louisa May Alcott. I turn the worn pages. In the front is a handwritten quote from the book.

“Someday you’ll find a man, a good man, and you’ll love him, and marry him, and live and die for him.”

I trace the words. The handwriting is feminine. Sara must have written it. How beautiful. I assume she wrote it about Tom— she must have really loved him. I think about how different all of their lives could have been had the accident never happened. August would have had two loving parents. He himself would be so different. Would he love me? Would I love him? Our worlds would probably never have collided. Sam and Claire’s life would have been different. My eyes well up as I picture that eight-year-old boy losing his mother, and grieving alone in the hospital with gentle nurses holding his hand, and his world further falling apart as his father spiraled out of control. I feel a little guilty that I have August in my life. It’s really because of this tragedy that we found one another.

I think about the quote Sara wrote. I have found a “
good man
.” I “
love him
.” I would
“live and die for him
.” I can’t bring his mother back, or change his past, but I can damn sure try to make things better in his future. I believe I can even return some of his lost father. Maybe Tom and August could be close again.

I settle onto the leather sofa and flip through a few more pages. A picture falls out—Tom and Sara’s wedding picture. They look so happy and in love. On the back, there is a note.

“My dearest August, I want you to have a love like this. I love you. Mom”

I wonder if August has ever even seen this picture. I place the photo and the book on the glass coffee table. I approach the piano, Sara’s piano, and touch the keys. I haven’t played much over the past few years. It’s not exactly easy to fit a piano in a little apartment. I took years of lessons, however, and used to play at my church when I still lived in Tennessee. I love the thought that his mother used to sit down at this very piano and play for August. When I sit down, it all comes back to me. I softly play a few pieces I have memorized.

 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

The angry voice behind me makes me jump, and I bang out a few jarring notes. My knees hit the piano, and the wooden cover of the keyboard slams down on the keys. I’m lucky I don’t lose a finger. August is shirtless, breathing hard, and his jaw is jutting at me like an accusatory finger.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” I walk toward him, intent on hugging him, but he holds me away from him. It’s so hurtful and surprising, I feel like he slapped me. I have never seen him angry, and it makes no sense to me.” Why are you mad?”

“Who told you that you could touch her piano?”

“I didn’t realize I needed permission.”

“Some things in this house are not yours to touch.”

Suddenly, I’m pissed.” Oh really? I thought I lived here, too. Am I supposed to consult a check sheet before touching anything?”

He runs his hands through his hair. “You’re right. This is our house.” He’s still shaking, but at least he’s not yelling.

“When you talk to me like that, it sure doesn’t feel like our house.” I try to see it from his perspective. I know how touchy he is about his mother.” But I’m sorry I upset you. I wouldn’t have touched it had I known.”

He walks toward me, and I think he’s going to take me in his arms, but then he notices the book and the picture on the coffee table. His nostrils flare.” The piano isn’t the only thing you’ve been messing around with. Why were you in my office, anyway? Snooping through my things?”

That stings. “I couldn’t sleep. I thought I could find something to read.”

He slams the book on the table.” You have no right to be in my mother’s things!”

I try to rationalize with him. Maybe this is a bit of that traumatized eight-year-old boy showing up again. “August, have you seen that picture?” I pick it up and try to hand it to him, but he won’t take it.” Look at it. They were happy. He made her happy.” I turn it over and show him her note to him.

He takes it from me. A chuffing sound escapes his throat, and tears run down his face.” She deserved better than him.”

I touch his tears.” He made her happy. He lost her, too. You know that’s what changed him. Neither of you could get over your grief. He shriveled up inside.”

He steps away.” I don’t give a fuck what it did to him!He killed her! Then he made me miserable!Look what he did to Sam. Without remorse. Don’t defend him to me!”

“I’m not defending him. I am defending her.” I’m getting frustrated. “If your mother loved him, he had to be a good man at one point. I’m sorry that he hurt you, but he’s still here, and you take care of him for a reason. There must be a part of you that loves him or is willing to forgive him. If you hated him that much, you’d have sent him to a nursing home.”

“I have other reasons for keeping him here.”

That makes no sense to me. “Like what? Why else would you go to all this effort?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But—“

“I think we’ve both said enough for tonight.” He turns and stalks out.

Once he disappears, I grab my purse and rush to my car. I cry as I jam the key into the ignition. The old Mustang roars to life, and it’s dependable. Predictable. Understandable. I want to scream. August will never let me in. He either can’t, or he won’t. I step on the gas and drive toward the front gate. The guard is talking to someone on the phone, but when I beep he opens the gate. I dial up Anna to make sure she is home. She’s my safe place, and I need someone and something familiar right now. Not August and his erratic, unexplainable behavior. She can hear the tears in my voice.

“I don’t know what happened,” she says, “but you make sure you drive safely.”

I’m not so far gone that I don’t notice the person tail gaiting me. At first, it’s just annoying, but as the lights from that car blast into mine mile after mile, I realize something terrifying. As I approach the apartment complex, I wait until the last second to turn. The guy behind me almost runs into me, but he can’t make the turn. He keeps going past the complex. I part and run up to my old apartment, my heart beating in my chest.

“Someone was following me,” I say, as I look back over my shoulder and slip inside.

“What? I’m calling the police.” Anna slides the deadbolt and reaches for her phone.

“No, let me call August first.” I step into my old bedroom and call him, but it goes straight to voicemail. I send him a text rather than leave a voicemail. It’s faster.

I know you’re mad at me, but I’m starting to get really scared. Someone was following me tonight. Please call me.

“What the hell is going on?” Anna asked.

“I don’t know. August and I got in a fight, and—“ My throat is blocked by a huge lump of mixed emotions. She sits on the couch and pats the space beside her. Like I have so many times over the years, I sit next to her and tell her everything. Well, everything I can tell her, anyway.

We talk about the book, the picture, me playing the piano, and August freaking out on me.

Her brows come together, and Anna looks decidedly put off my August’s behavior. “I don’t want you going back there. I’m starting to think he’s either nuts or involved in some really fishy stuff. Or maybe both.”

“I would agree with you if I didn’t love him,” I say between sobs.

“I know you love him, but he needs to get his shit together.” She hands me a tissue.

My phone lights up with August’s face and before I can answer it Anna grabs it from me. I can hear August on the other end asking to speak to me, but Anna refuses. She tells him to call the police and to leave me the hell alone. She hangs up the phone and even turns in off. I cry even harder.

 

 

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

August

 

 

It has been two weeks since my fight with Nash. I keep trying her phone, but she won’t answer. I even went to her apartment, but Anna gave me an earful and insisted that Nash wasn’t there. Turns out she was telling the truth. It didn’t take long to track down her plans. She went to Tennessee to see her parents. I’m packing, just throwing a few things in a bag, ready to go after her, when Wayne calls.

He’s all business, as usual. “That night Nash and Anna went swimming? Outside cameras got an unclear glimpse of someone leaving the cabana. The cameras inside the house were down.”

“What do you mean they were
down?”

“They appear to have malfunctioned, sir.”

“Why am I just now fucking learning of this?”

“I wasn’t informed either. I’m looking into it.”

“You do that, Wayne. That’s what I pay you for.” I hang up, sit on the bed, and rub my eyes.

For her safety, I know I can’t follow her. My stomach clenches with remorse. I was such as ass to her that last night. I was so angry when I heard the piano? No one has touched it since my mother died. Mom used to give me lessons, but I quit playing when I lost her. It didn’t seem right then, and it still doesn’t seem right now. Still, I took my anger out on the one person who didn’t deserve it. I’ve been a mess since she left. If I’m not going to find her, I decide to go see Sam. He keeps bugging me to come over. Says he has to show me something.

I’m so distracted by my racing thoughts that I feel like I step in the car one second, and into Claire’s house the next.

“You look like hell,” Claire says as she closes the door behind me.

“Thanks. I feel like hell.” I’ve never been able to lie to her.

“When is the last time you ate?” She leads me into the kitchen.

“I honestly don’t remember. Stella has had the flu, and I haven’t really been too interested in cooking.” I sit down at the table.

“Okay. So then I’m feeding you. You can tell me what happened while you eat.”

I catch her up between bites of food.

“So that’s it? You’re just going to let her go without a fight?” The look on her face is both incredulous and angry.

“What am I supposed to do? My life has been so screwed up for so long. That’s not going to change.”

“I think it’s more like you’re not willing to change your life.” She leans against the counter and crosses her arms.

“I can’t change the things that my father has done.”

“Of course, you can’t. But you can make decisions that change the outcome of your life, and other people’s lives. Sam and I would still be living in that rundown trailer if you hadn’t come for us. You changed all of that for us, but you’re not willing to go to any effort for the woman you love?” She turns away to wash dishes. Her disappointment washes over me as if she dumped the dirty dishes on my head.

I think about that photo of my parents that Nash showed me, and I imagine my mother would say the same thing. “I don’t know what to do,” I say. “I know that since she walked out, I’ve been pathetic. I could never imagine another person could have this much of an effect on me.”

“That’s called love, August.” Claire squeezes my shoulder.

“What did I miss?” I hear behind me.

“Nothing.” I turn around, and for a moment, my troubles are forgotten at the sight of Sam, standing, with no additional support. “Sam, where are your braces?”

“That’s what I wanted to show you.” He slowly walks toward me.” I’ve been walking without them for a week now. I’m a little slow, but the therapist says that will get better with time.” He is all smiles. “I wanted to show you in person, not tell you over the phone. Where’s Nash? I want to show her, too” he looks around the room.

“She went home to visit her parents for a few days.”

Claire leans into me.” See? There are things that you can fix, even when they’re not your fault. Look at my son, there walking. I think you have some crow to eat.” She pats me on the shoulder.

“When are we going climbing again? This time, I won’t even need my braces.”

“Whoa. Not so fast, Speed Racer.” Claire laughs at his enthusiasm.

“I promise we’ll go hiking soon. And Nash will come with us.” I smile at him, but I’m not at all sure I’ll be able to win her back. The thought makes my stomach feel hollow as if the very center of me has been carved out.

 


 

I decide I can’t wait for her to come back, shadowy figure in the security video or not. I have to go after her. My flight to Tennessee is rocky. A storm grounds most of the commercial flights, but I tell my pilot we’re going, storm or no storm. When we finally land, I rent a Ford Pickup truck instead of my usual limo. Maybe it will make me more endearing to Nash.
You’re desperate,
I think. And then I agree with myself.
You’re right. I am desperate.

It’s pouring rain when I pull up to her parents’ farm. I am not sure what to expect. She has no idea I’m coming.
What if she refuses me?
My heart slams in my ears as I sit in the pickup truck, watching the rain run down the windows in little rivets. Finally, I decide that the agony of awaiting her reaction is worse than whatever it may be. If she’s going to break my heart, I might as well get it over with. I open the door and sprint toward the house.

I knock, a dripping, sopping mess, and wait for my fate. Her father George answers the door. He looks none too happy to see me.

“Mr. Jacoby.” I stick out my hand. He doesn’t offer his. People usually don’t make me nervous, but his glare is throwing me off.” I’m here to see Nashville.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, son.”

“I know she’s angry with me and things between us got a little out of hand, but…” It seems weird to be saying this to her father, but it’s the truth. “I love her.”

He sighs. But he opens the door wider for me to come inside.

“Wait just a minute. Nancy! Bring me a towel,” he calls over his shoulder.” You drip all over Nancy’s rugs, you’ll have more than one angry woman to deal with.”

Nancy comes into the foyer with a periwinkle blue towel tucked under her arm. “Did you track mud on my rugs? I told you to take off your shoes with this rain—“ She stops when she sees me, half in and half out of the door. “Oh…August…I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Just hand the boy the towel,” George says.

She holds it at arms length as if she’d be betraying her daughter by getting too close to me. “Nash isn’t here right now. She went out for some groceries and got stuck in the storm. She’s going to wait around town before coming home. The water rises around the little bridge over Cross Creek in these kinds of storms.”

“At this rate, it might stay that way until tomorrow,” George says.

“Is she at the General store?” I ask.

“Yes,” her mother says.

I turn to leave. George grabs my arm. “You can’t go back out in this.”

“I didn’t come this far to wait one minute longer to make things right with her.”

Her father lets go of my arm. If anything, I feel him gently push me out the door.

 


 

The front door chimes as I enter the general store. No one is at the front counter, but I hear laughter coming from a back room.

“Hello,” I call out.

“Can I help you?”

It’s the same lady that was here before. I can’t recall her name. She has that same look on her face as before. Like she’ll eat me for breakfast along with her biscuits and gravy.

“I’m looking for Nash.” As I say her name she walks into the room. She stares at me in shock.

“What are you doing here?” She crosses her arms.

“Is there someplace we can speak privately?” I glance between her and the scary store owner.

Nash takes my hand and leads me to the front door. I assume she’s going to shove me out the door, but she says, “Let’s sit in your limo to talk.” She grabs a big black umbrella on the way out. It opens with a swish and almost pokes out my eye.

“Where’s your car?”

I feel like I can win some points, so I press the button on my keychain and the pickup truck’s lights flash. As I open the truck door, she stares at me.” This is what you drove?” I can tell she’s trying to not smile.

“Would you just get in before we are swept away?”

She squints at me.” Say please.”

I want to throw her over my knee and spank her for being so defiant, but that’s probably not the best way to win her back. “Please. Will you get in the truck?”

To my surprise, she climbs into the truck. I close the umbrella and throw it in the truck bed. When I get in, she’s leaning against the passenger door. She looks ready for battle.

“Why are you here?” she asks.

For a moment, all I can do is stare at her, she’s that beautiful. I wonder if she’s been as miserable as I have been. God, I have missed her.

“Did you come all this way just to gawk at me?” she asks. “Or do actually have something you want to say?”

“I was an idiot.”

“Go on.”

“I behaved very poorly. I’m very sorry.”

“And?”

I should have known she wasn’t going to let me off easy.” I’ve been desolate since you left.”

“Desolate.” She snorts.” Try another word.”

“It means….”

“I know what the fuck it means. I want you to say something more human!”

I grit my teeth.” Heartbroken.” She’s not giving me an inch, so I refuse to give her a centimeter.” Watch your mouth.”

To my surprise, she burst out laughing.” What’s so funny?”

“You. You come here to apologize, yet you still want to control me. Telling me what to say? Please. Whatever comes out of my mouth, it’s my choice.”

I move closer to her.” You know how to do better things than say nasty words. I know what that mouth can do. And it’s not always about what comes out of it. What about what goes in it?”

She leans in closer.” I don’t think you want my mouth on any part of your body right now.” She tries to open the door. I grab her from behind and pull her toward me.

“I’m sorry, Nash. I love you.” When I whisper, she stops moving.

“I need you,” I continue. “My life is worth nothing without you. I was a total asshole. But I recognize it. I’ll try to change. For you, I’ll do anything.”

She relaxes into me and I loosen my grip. She turns in my arms.” I still want to know why?”

I know exactly what she is talking about. Why do I take such good care of my father? I suppose I finally have to talk about it. “I remember how he looked at my mother. How much he loved me. I felt guilty for being so childish the night of the accident. If they had not had to pick me up, she would be alive. He wouldn’t have become my enemy. The hate in his eyes for me was more than I could bear. I could handle his beatings, but I could never handle the hate on his face for me.”

“Oh my god August, he beat you?” Her hand is on my thigh.

“Don’t feel sorry for me. I deserved it.”

“No child deserves to be beat. You were in just as much pain as he was. He should have gotten help for both of you.”

I let go of her and drape my arms over the steering wheel.” The last fight we had, before his stroke, I told him I hated him. He was trying to tell me he was sorry. I think he finally got it. But I wasn’t ready to hear it. So he told me he was sorry, and I told him I hated him. That is the last conversation I had with my father.”

“He knows you didn’t mean it. He loves you.”

I chuckle.” He doesn’t have the ability to feed himself, or think. He doesn’t know how to love someone. I know he had that capacity once, but it’s gone now.”

She squeezes my knee. “That’s not true. You know I’ve been working with him. He responds to me. I meant to tell you the day I left.” She takes my face in her hands.” I can prove it to you when we get back.”

“That means you forgive me for the way I treated you?” I plead with her blue eyes.

“I forgive you because you let me in. That’s all I ever wanted from you.” She lightly kisses my lips.

The lightning cracks and she jumps. When she flinches in my arms, I seize the moment. I kiss her the way I’ve been wanting to kiss her for the past few weeks.” I am so sorry.” I keep repeating it between kisses. She slips her hands under my shirt. I unbutton her top and unhook her bra. Her nipples are pert and pink. She moans as I gently suck on them.

“I’ve missed your mouth,” she says. I lean her back on the seat of the truck. Wind and rain pound on the truck. The windows steamed up from our collective heat. It reminded me of that scene in the movie
Titanic
when Rose and Jack make love in the old Model-T and leave the misty handprint on the window. I’ve never thought about a romantic movie scene outside of watching it in my life. Nashville has done crazy things to my mind, as well as my body.

“I can’t wait a minute longer to be inside you.” I tug at her shorts and rip off her delicate panties. I sit up and pull myself free of my jeans. I pull her on top of me, so I’ll be able to see her. She braces herself, one hand on the back of the seat, one hand on the ceiling. I tease her with the head of my cock and look up at her. She bites her lip and slowly lowers herself onto me. My whole length is inside her, filling her to the brim.

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