Unravel (24 page)

I think he went into the kiss convinced that my ‘crush’ would never be over until he put it to rest. He thought the kiss would be two pairs of lips meeting and it would flat and be over within seconds.

But it was so much more than a simple kiss.

Everything stopped: time, breathing, my mind.

All I could focus on was his lips pressed against mine. He didn’t move them away, or increase the pressure. I was grateful for that because even this one simple contact made all the tingling seem like it was nothing. Right when I was reaching up to wrap my arms around him, he pulled away.

All the warmth from his lips disappeared and it felt like cold water had been thrown onto me. My eyes fluttered open. I stumbled into him. He jumped back like he’d been burned.

We stood there in silence, staring at each other in a half-daze.

I was the first to recover. “Do that again.”

Lachlan said nothing. Just blinked rapidly at me as the rain fell down around us.

“Do it again.” I couldn’t stop staring at his lips.

“No.”

“Do it,” I stepped closer. “Kiss me. Show me what to do.”

He took a step back and then another and another until he was pressed up against a tree. I saw just how unsure he was and I also saw lust. I wasn’t imagining it. My eyes weren’t playing tricks on me.

“You and I both know that was a really bad idea,” he said, his voice strained.

“Was it though?” I whispered.

He flinched as if I had struck him.

I stayed perfectly still and waited for Lachlan to do something, anything.

A deep, shuddering breath escaped him as he closed his eyes. He was at war with himself. And I saw the moment where he ignored that part that held him back. My pulse hammered as he leaned into me. This time his lips didn’t just linger. They moved, slanting across mine slowly.

I followed his lead. I chased after his breath, opened my mouth. His lips were warm compared to the cold rain and softer than I expected. My heart was thundering so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. I pulled away slightly. The tip of his nose brushed against mine. His lips were a hairsbreadth away from mine. The look in his eyes was powerful, showing me that if I hadn’t pulled away we would still be kissing. I swallowed hard.

“You told me to never trust a guy,” I said, my voice shaky.

“You were supposed to listen,” he said against my lips.

We went back in at the same time. This kiss was even stronger than the last.

His fingers sank into my wet hair. My hands reached up, curling around his neck, holding onto him like he was my anchor. I stood on my tiptoes. My elbows rested on his shoulders and I reached behind my head, grabbed my hood and pulled it up and over our heads. I had waited years to kiss him and I didn’t want to share Lachlan. Not even with the rain.

It fell around us, hitting my hood as Lachlan gently tilted my head to the side. The kiss deepened. I felt his tongue against my lips. I opened my mouth. Lachlan hummed and I answered with a whimper. I didn’t know if what I was doing was right. I just followed what made me feel good.

Slowly, my tongue touched his. Lachlan shifted close. I could feel him through his jeans. I breathed through my nose.

He ripped himself away.

Lachlan was breathing heavily. He rested his forehead against mine.

We didn’t say a word.

Another morning.

Another day in Dr. Rutledge’s office.

Before she can ask me how I am and what happened next, my mouth is already open and the words are pouring from my mouth…

“I love what you’ve done.”

“Really?” Lana said.

I turned and smiled. “Really.”

I made a circle around Lana’s living room, looking at the little touches she had put throughout the apartment to make this space hers.

Turns out, you can find some good stuff at thrift stores. Or maybe Lana just had a good eye. She picked things out that by themselves, just looked used and ugly. But together it all worked.

There was a large, off-white bookcase that flanked the entertainment center. A comfy, tan couch with a large, gilded mirror mounted on the wall behind it. And there were flowers on every available space. On the kitchen table, the end table. Real or fake. It didn’t really matter to Lana. I asked her why she had so many. She said when she looked at them her spirits would instantly lift.

Lana looked down at the pillow lying on her lap and picked at a loose thread. “It’s been fun picking things out.”

“And it’s been fun going from store to store picking things out with you.”

I made myself comfortable on the couch and took a good look at her.

“You’re doing okay?” I asked.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

That was Lana’s go-to answer. Every time she said it, her voice was hollow. But today I heard excitement and saw the small spark of hope in her eyes.

She drew her knees close to her chest and leaned in, as if she was sharing a secret.

“I signed up for some online college courses,” she confessed.

“That’s great!”

Lana shrugged and looked away, hiding her blushing face. “It’s not much but—”

I held up my hand. “Stop right there. Don’t say it’s not much. It’s a huge step in the right direction.”

“I knew you would say that.”

“What are friends for?”

Lana smiled warmly. “I still want to look for a job.”

“That’s good,” I said tentatively.

Lana had to do most everything on her own terms. Sure, I could encourage her until I was blue in the face, but ultimately, it had to be her that made the final choice.

“I guess so,” she said as she trailed her fingers across the couch cushion. “I thought about what you said.”

I nodded, urging her to continue.

“I went into the bookstore three times yesterday. I hung around the shelves, staring at the cash register, just waiting to get the courage to walk up there and ask for an application. I wimped out each time and now everyone who works there probably thinks I’m a stalker.”

She gave me a weak smile. I frowned.

“I told you I’d help you find a job.”

“I know. But I wanted to get a head start. I can’t live off my savings for the rest of my life.”

“It’d be a nice way to live though, right?” I teased.

“The best way.”

“Look…” I said thoughtfully. “It’s only been three weeks. You’re getting used to this new change in your life. Give it some time.”

“How much time will I need?”

“Doesn’t matter. There’s no cut off point or expiration date. Just take all the time you need.”

She glanced over at me and quietly asked, “How’s Max?”

“He’s good.”

I never told her about the conversation I overheard between Max and her dad. I saw no reason in letting her know. She was doing well, so why would I bring it up? It would take all the progress she had made and blow it to smithereens.

“Have you talked to Lachlan?” she asked. Her tone was carefree, but she watched me carefully.

I walked over to the patio doors, looking at the buildings around us. I didn’t want to talk about him. He was a ghost that needed to be laid to rest. All those memories I had with him needed to stay buried with him. But just the mention of his name brought up those memories: laying flat on our backs in the treehouse, talking and talking and talking. That very first kiss that turned my world upside down.

I swallowed and closed my eyes, trying to make those memories disappear.

My eyes opened. I was still standing in place. Still standing in Lana’s apartment, yet, my mind was rooted in the past. I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Nope.”

“Not once?”

“Nope,” I repeated, my voice tight.

“That’s… strange.”

I turned. “Why is it strange?”

“He’s been in your life for the past ten years.”

“So?”

“It’s just weird that you would cut him out.”

“I haven’t cut him out.”

She tilted her head. “Then what do you call what you’re doing?”

“Everything’s changed, Lana.”

“I know that better than anyone. But you can’t just—”

My gut started to twist painfully. This was a conversation I wasn’t ready for.

“Stop,” I interrupted.

“What is this?” There was a small smile on Lana’s face as she waved a hand in between us. “Normally, you’re the one handing out advice and leading
me
in the right direction.”

Is that what Lana thought she was doing? She thought Lachlan was the right direction?

“There’s no need for leading, Lana. I’m just fine,” I said softly.

My breathing became shallow. I crossed my arms, but it was only to hide my shaking hands. I didn’t want to shut her out, but I refused to talk about Lachlan. I exhaled loudly and picked up my purse.

“I gotta go. I’ll see you later?”

Lana looked at me for a long second. For a moment, I was afraid that she could see the truth.

“Yeah,” she said slowly. “I’ll see you later.”

I drove down Lincoln Road. It was a five-mile stretch that led to Max’s house.

My window was open, letting in the smell of firewood. It was slightly overcast but that didn’t stop a few kids from playing with a sprinkler in their front yard. I drove past them with a fleeting glance.

All I could think about was Lachlan.

I didn’t expect Lana to mention his name. He was a subject that we hardly brought up.

He came into my life at the right time. And when he left, I knew it was for a reason. But I also knew we weren’t finished. I knew he would come back into my life. I just wasn’t ready.

I pulled into Max’s driveway. His car was parked in front of the garage. A silver Beamer was parked in the circular drive. I ignored the pounding in my ears and gripped the steering wheel, trying to get a good look at the car.

“Shit,” I whispered.

That was Lana’s dad’s car.

I pulled up beside Max’s car. My hands were still gripping the steering wheel in a white knuckled grip. I tried to imagine why Lana’s dad was here. Maybe it was innocent. Maybe it was for work. Didn’t really matter; every scenario ended badly.

“Shit,” I repeated.

First instinct: Turn my car around. Get the hell out of dodge. Far away from Lana’s dad.

What I would actually do: Stay.

I had to know what was being said.

I walked up the sidewalk. My legs were threatening to give out on me. I went to ring the doorbell but at the last minute I stopped. Now that I knew Lana’s dad was here, I wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible. Like a spy who sneaks in and out without anyone noticing.

I stepped inside and scanned the foyer. Lucy, Max’s housekeeper was turning to walk up the stairs with a laundry basket in hand. She stopped and stared at me with wide eyes. She was in her mid-fifties. Her brown hair was graying at the temples. She came here three days a week.

I pressed my index finger against my lips before I motioned for her to come closer.

“How long have they been in there?” I whispered.

“Not long. Maybe five minutes.”

“Okay. Good. I—” I stopped talking when I saw the look on her face. She would cover for Max if anything happened. But I was a different story.

“Naomi, you shouldn’t be here,” she whispered back.