When We Collide (25 page)

When I’d gone back to California, I’d become so
jaded. I’d built up walls to protect myself from thoughts of
compassion, chalked them up to a sign of weakness.

I realized now it’d just been a tool of
preservation, because it fucking destroyed me to think of Maggie
being hurt. Every minute I’d spent back in Mississippi had slowly
stripped that protection away.

I inched passed the road to Maggie’s old house and
turned onto the street behind it.

Yesterday, I had moved on from here after I watched
Maggie walk along the backside of her parents’ house and had driven
by the grungy shop where Troy worked just to be sure he was there,
a small assurance that, for the time being, Maggie was safe.

But not today.

I hopped out of my car and pressed the lock on the
key fob. The car emitted a low
bleep
and the lights flashed.
I cast a furtive glance around, wishing my car sitting on the side
of the road in this shitty neighborhood wasn’t so ridiculously
obvious.

Stupid.

I took the edge of the road at almost a jog. My gaze
continually darted around my surroundings, watching for some sign
that someone noticed I was here. I jumped when a dog lunged at my
side and rammed into a chain-link fence. It snarled and snapped at
the metal as I passed.

My pulse thundered, fear and need and
perseverance.

I wasn’t leaving here until I talked to her.

About a quarter-mile up was an empty lot. With my
heart still pounding, I leaned down and pushed the barbed wires
apart and slid between them. In my anxiety, I stood and looked
around again, then tried to keep my footsteps as quiet as possible
as I moved forward, prowling in broad daylight. A jungle of weeds
grew to my knees and swished against my jeans as I pushed forward.
Old tires were piled haphazardly in the middle, a rotted, flat
basketball to the side, a dilapidated swing set falling apart
toward the back.

Sadness welled, and for a second, I wished for the
walls to be back in place.

At the end of the lot, a row of trees had been
planted as a boundary. The trunks grew high and the branches
sprouted out about halfway up, reaching out to shade the entire
yard. In their shelter, I stopped, bracing myself with a hand on a
tree as I looked toward the back of Maggie’s old house.

A frenzy of emotions twisted through my
consciousness, so many they were hard to discern—sadness and
love—pity and lust—anger and a broken heart I’d hidden away because
I’d never known how to deal with it.

I slumped to the damp, dirty ground and listened to
the indistinct sounds coming from inside. Only a patchy lawn and
rickety door separated me from the girl, who, without even knowing
it, had captured me the moment I’d seen her. For two hours, I just
sat there, lost in thoughts and memories.

I jumped to my feet in a race of nerves when the
handle rattled and the back door swung open.

Over her shoulder, Maggie called, “See you
tomorrow.”

She stepped out and turned around to click the door
shut, jiggling the handle to be sure it was locked. I watched her
slow, as if suddenly overwhelmed, feet chained to the ground. She
stood with her back to me, one hand flat on the door, her head hung
and body still.

I wanted to know what she was thinking almost as
badly as I wanted to touch her.

From the cover of the trees, I slowly approached.
Each cautious footstep I took brought her closer to me. I knew she
felt me, knew she sensed my presence in the way she tensed. She
sucked in air and dropped her arms to her sides.

She never turned around, only waited.

A foot away, I stopped. Her body rose and fell in
sync with mine, her short, gasping breaths matching the jagged ones
I forced in and out of my lungs. Strands of auburn ruffled in the
breeze and brushed across my face, the sweetness of Maggie filling
my nose and overpowering my senses. My fingers twitched forward,
remembering just how soft that auburn was when I wove my fingers
through it.

God, I wanted her.

The shiver that rolled through Maggie was palpable
even to me.

I wound my arms around her and pulled her flush, my
palms flat on her stomach.

Cheek to cheek. Skin to skin.

I burned.

I ran my nose up her jaw and whispered in her ear,
“I don’t know how to stop loving you.”

Maggie trembled in my hold. A small cry erupted from
her mouth as she covered my hands with hers and flattened her body
against mine. Her head tilted away to bring us closer, her neck
exposed.

I buried my face in the snowy flesh. My arms
tightened around her as every nerve came alive. They’d lain dormant
for so long, it almost hurt. Repressing a groan in the haven of her
neck, I pressed my lips against her skin.

Maggie whimpered my name.

The last shred of control I had slipped.

In a flurry of movement, I spun her around and
pushed her against the door. My mouth met hers, fevered and
impatient. I buried my hands in the auburn locks I’d so desperately
longed to touch. I wound them through my fingers, tugged her
closer, kissed her deeper.

Her mouth opened on a shuddered moan. It was almost
a sob. I devoured it. A long-suppressed sob of my own bubbled up
somewhere in my consciousness and lodged as a weighted mass in my
throat.

I loved this girl so much. Too much.

“Maggie…oh God…Maggie,” I mumbled between my
desperate play to consume her, to fill up this hole she’d left when
she’d broken our hearts. It only expanded when tears spilled from
her eyes and over my hands, and for the shortest second, she gave
in and kissed me back.

Cupping her face, I pulled away and stared down at
her. Her eyes were all brown misery and love and shame, and the
most wistful of smiles hinted on her swollen lips. Timid fingertips
traced my face, as if to remember—to memorize—something to take
with her when she walked away. Chills followed in their wake, an
aching loss across my skin, torment I didn’t think I’d survive. Her
touch spoke of it—of giving in and letting go—but her eyes were so
sad, I knew she never would.

“No,” I pled as I crushed myself to her, my mouth
urgent in its petition, strong and overpowering. I kissed her in a
way I should have when she’d let me go instead of walking away from
her.

Insistent hands roamed up the softness of her
slender arms, palmed her delicate neck, ran down across the exposed
skin of her chest, and begged at her hips.

Please
.

I couldn’t bear it, couldn’t let her go, but I knew
she was already gone. She was limp, and I knew she had withdrawn to
that distant place she’d escaped to that night.

“Please, Maggie,” I said, grasping her face, “let me
in.”

She averted her gaze. “William, you know I
can’t.”

I pushed myself closer to erase every inch of space
between us. Holding myself up with my hands on either side of her
head, I brushed my cheek across hers. “Why…why not? Tell me why I
can’t have you.” My mouth was back at her jaw. “Why did you choose
this life?”

Maggie choked over unspent emotion and hid her face
at my throat. “I didn’t.”

She kissed me there beneath my jaw, a lingering
caress as she clung to me by my shoulders.

Then she pushed me away.

I stumbled back. The anguished expression on her
face snuffed out the last bit of anger I’d held for her all of
these years.

I grabbed her wrist when she turned to run. This
time she didn’t flinch, though she wouldn’t look my way.

“I won’t walk away from you this time, Maggie…not
you or Jonathan. I will fight for you.”

She squeezed my hand as if begging me to keep my
word, then she jerked it away and took off with her hand covering
her mouth. I didn’t chase her. I just watched as she disappeared
around the side of the house.

I hadn’t thought it possible to hurt any worse than
I had. I hadn’t believed anything could be more excruciating than
walking away from her that night six years ago.

But I was wrong.

My heart and body still sped from her touch, filled
with the same intense need that only Maggie had ever brought out in
me, although my legs felt weak, my feet heavy as I forced myself
back across her mother’s yard and out onto the shanty street. As I
climbed into my SUV, I didn’t look twice at the old woman who eyed
me with suspicion while she beat a rug against the railing of her
front porch.

I didn’t care about anything except for the broken
words that had dropped from Maggie’s mouth.

I didn’t
.

William ~ September, Six Years Earlier

“You’re awfully happy this morning. Bet you can’t
wait to get out of here tomorrow morning,” my mom teased, although
I didn’t miss the sadness behind her words. Every time I left, my
mother cried. For so many years, I’d believed one day it would be
permanent and I would say goodbye and never come back to stay.
Sure, I’d visit, but both my mother and I knew it would never be
the same.

Now, I had no idea what the future held. I didn’t
know if Maggie would fall in love with Los Angeles and would want
to make it our home, if leaving would help to heal her and distance
her from her past.

Or would she miss it here and want to return?

The little tugging in my chest told me I hoped she’d
want to come back, but really, I’d be happy wherever Maggie wanted
to go.

I smiled at Mom. “I just have some…really good
news.”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“I’ll tell you tonight.”

“Keeping secrets from your mom now, William?”

I had the urge to hug her. “I’m really going to miss
you, Mom,” I said as I wrapped her in a small embrace.

She patted my back.

“You’ll be back at Christmas. It’ll fly by.” She
squeezed me a little tighter. “Only one more year.” It sounded like
a promise to herself.

Guilt fluttered its wings in my stomach. Even though
I was sure my mother would empathize, and I knew over the summer
she’d grown to really care about Maggie too, I knew a part of her
would be hurt I’d kept my relationship with Maggie a secret.

“Love you, Ma.”

“You have no idea how much I love you.”

~

There was a rap on the wall next to my door. I
glanced over my shoulder.

Blake peeked in with a grin on his face. “What the
hell are you doing, man?”

I shrugged and threw a smirk in my brother’s
direction. It was pretty
obvious
what I was doing as I
grabbed another shirt and shoved it into the duffle bag that was
unzipped and wide-open on the bed. The rest of my things were in
piles around it, everything except for my bathroom stuff and a
change of clothes for the morning.

“Running away from Mississippi again, huh?” Blake
hopped onto my bed and lay down, pushing a pile of jeans aside with
his leg as he stretched out along the side with his hands behind
his head. His work boots were smeared with dried mud.

“Dude, get your boots off my bed.”

Blake dug them in further, toppling a pile of shirts
off the bed and onto the floor.

I shook my head, though I couldn’t help the smile.
“You’re such an asshole.”

Blake laughed. “That’s why you love me, little
brother.” He blew out a heavy breath and looked up at the ceiling.
“I’m going miss you, Will. It sucks when you’re not around.”

I stopped packing to look over at him. “Yeah, I’m
going to miss you, too.”

His gaze shifted to me, his expression intense.
“Listen, I’ve been wanting to ask you something. I want you to
stand up for me as my best man in my wedding next summer.” He
rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth before he sat up on the
edge of the bed with his back to me. He seemed to contemplate
before he looked back over his shoulder. “You know you’re my best
friend, Will. It doesn’t matter if you’re my brother or not…there’s
nobody else I’d want standing up there beside me.”

We’d always been close, but we rarely had
conversations like this. I got it. It felt as if everything was
changing, our lives speeding up as the days of our adolescence
blurred.

“Of course, Blake. There’s not a chance in Hell I’d
miss it.”

We stared at each other for a moment. The secret I
was hiding burned on my tongue and another wave of guilt bound its
way up my throat. I hated keeping something so important from my
brother, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him yet. I wanted
Maggie standing by my side when I told my family about her, for
them to see how much I really loved her—wanted them to see that
this wasn’t some little summer fling.

Shifting, Blake drew one leg up onto the bed to face
me. His face was almost awed. “I still can’t believe I’m getting
married. I’m kind of freaked out about it, if I’m being
honest.”

I frowned. “What do you mean? Are you having second
thoughts?”

Blake kind of shrugged. “No…not second thoughts.
Just scared, I guess.”

Scared. I was no stranger to that emotion, but mine
had been born of entirely different fears. Grabbing another pile of
clothes and shoving them into my bag, I realized I hadn’t had time
to
really
think about the future. Every decision I’d made
with Maggie had been impulsive…instinctual. I wondered if there was
something wrong with me that I couldn’t begin to relate to the
worries that seemed to have crept up on my brother.

Blake scratched at the back of his neck and turned
his attention to the floor.

“But God, I love her. It makes me sick to think of
not being with her.” He chuckled and glanced up at me.

Now that I could understand.

~

The back door clicked behind me, and I was enveloped
by the night. Billions of stars blinked down from the moonless sky.
I quieted my feet over the wooden planks of the porch, an act I’d
perfected over the summer.