Where the Road Takes Me (19 page)

And I’d never felt more beautiful in my life.

My eyes drifted shut. I waited for him to touch me. For his hands to follow where his eyes had roamed. But it never happened. The touch never came. Then the soft material of his shirt covered me. His voice came out in a whisper: “I like you in my clothes, Not Abby.”

He waited for me to get into his bed before following. Then he pulled me into him—the heat of his bare chest against my back. His hold was tight. So tight I almost couldn’t breathe. But that was fine—because in this moment, all I needed to breathe was Blake.

His nose skimmed along the back of my neck, moving my hair to make way for his lips. His kisses were soft and slow, but they were also commanding. His hand moved under my shirt and flattened against my stomach. Then his palm crept higher. And higher. “Blake.”

“Mmm?” The wetness of his open mouth, followed by his tongue, made me shiver.

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” he said. The frustration, the plea, the need in his voice was enough to make me turn in his arms. Once we were face-to-face, he continued, “I feel like I need to—no,
we
need to—do something so that you don’t forget me.”

I reared back. “You think I could forget you?”

He dropped his gaze, but he didn’t speak.

“So you want to have sex?”

“No,” he said quickly, lifting his eyes to meet mine. “I don’t know.
Yes.
I just want you to remember me.”

My chest tightened at his words. “Would you forget me?”

“Never.”

“Then what makes you think I’d forget you?”

“Because that’s your goal in life, Chloe. To be forgettable.”

“That’s not fair, Blake.”

He sighed. “Maybe not, but it’s the truth.”

I let his words sink in and settle before I spoke. “I’ve had sex, Blake.”

His eyes narrowed.

“With lots of guys.”

His lips thinned to a line.

“And I don’t remember them.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that it didn’t mean anything. Sex. It probably never will.”

He leaned his forehead against mine. “I wish I was enough,” he said quietly.

“Enough?”

“I wish that I could ask you to stay, and that it would be enough. That
I
was enough.”

I wanted to tell him that he was. He was more than enough. But it wasn’t just about him. It was about me, too. It
always
had to be about me, and the people I’d leave behind.

He took my silence as an answer. Sighing, he leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on my lips.

I kissed back, lingering longer than he’d probably expected.

His fingers on my back curled, gripping the shirt.

“You know what I’ve always wanted? What I never let myself dream?” I said against his lips.

“What?” he whispered.

“To meet a guy that wanted to kiss me. Not because it would lead to sex, but because he felt like he would die if he couldn’t. I want to fall asleep, kissing someone, and for that kiss to be enough, to be
everything.
Just kiss. Sometimes when I’m with you, that’s all I want. I want to kiss you like my life depends on it.” My voice cracked, but I kept going. “If I could dream the same dream a million times over, it would be you—you would be my last kiss, my last breath.”

“Chloe,” he sighed.

And then he kissed me.

He kissed me with everything he had.

Every piece of him.

Like his life depended on it.

We never broke apart.

Not even when fatigue set in, and we struggled to move.

Or when fatigue won out, and we fell asleep.

Not even when I dreamed that the cancer had won, and I was dying.

And that Blake Hunter—he was my last dying breath.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Blake

Her eyes fluttered open, and a slow smile spread across her face.

“Hey, beautiful.”

“You know what I love?” she said groggily.

“What?”

She skimmed her fingers over my nose. “These little freckles, right here. They don’t come out often. Sometimes in the sunlight. Barely ever indoors. But they’re out now. I bet it’s just for me.”

“I bet it is.”

Her eyes drifted shut again as she pressed her lips against my nose. And for a moment, I forgot that that was it. That the moment—right there—was as good as it would get for us.

It was the greatest thing we’d never have.

The thought created a knot in the pit of my stomach, and I couldn’t shake it. “You want to shower?”

“Okay.”

I kissed her once and tried to smile. “I’ll go after you, and then maybe we can get something to eat?”

“Sounds great.”

Last night, when she’d been in my arms, I’d asked her to stay—not in those exact words—but she’d known what I’d meant. She hadn’t responded, and that had been enough of an answer for me.

I’d wanted to tell her that I loved her—or at least I thought I did. But then she’d told me how she felt about me, and the word
love
hadn’t felt like enough.

I had three and a half days to find words that were enough. Even if she didn’t stay, at least she’d know how I felt about her.

She’d told me she’d wait outside while I showered. When I stepped out of the house, she was leaning against my car, and my mother was with her.

“I invited your mom. I hope you don’t mind.”

What was I supposed to say? That I did mind? That I wanted her all to myself and that I wanted her to be
mine
? “That’s cool.”

“I also rang Mary, and everyone else is going to meet us there.”

“Okay.”

“And Josh, too.”

My smile was tight, but I nodded anyway.

We got in my car and drove to Clayton’s restaurant, her hand on my leg the entire drive.

My mom linked arms with me as I watched Chloe walking ahead and into the restaurant. “It might be the last time she gets to be with everyone, Blake. Don’t be selfish. Let her have this moment.”

I looked down at her. “When did you get so smart?”

“Honey, I write romance novels. You don’t think I know what goes on in the minds of two people in love?”

Chloe

I frowned when Mary, Dean, and the kids walked in.

“What’s wrong?” Blake asked. He must’ve been watching me.

“Harry’s not here,” I said into his shoulder.

He put his arm behind me and brought my temple to his lips. “I’m sorry.”

They all joined us in the corner booth.

“Harry’s coming,” Dean said. “He wanted to meet us here. Said he had something he had to do.”

I felt a weight lift off my shoulders.

“Dean, Mary, this is my mom, Celia.” Blake made the introductions. They talked among themselves for a while as I watched the seconds tick by. My eyes moved from the clock to the front door, waiting for Harry. When I saw him walk in with a skateboard under his arm, my heart leapt. I couldn’t contain my smile. Blake squeezed my shoulder once before standing up to bump fists with him. He took a seat on the other side, suggesting that Harry sit next to me. It was a small gesture, but one that didn’t go unnoticed. I was thankful that he’d thought of it. I was thankful for
him
.

“Hey,” Harry greeted.

“Hi,” I squeaked. I was nervous. I wasn’t sure what Harry would say to me.

“Can I sit?”

“Of course.”

He sat down and placed a bag on the table. “I got you something,” he said quietly.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” I was still looking down at the table. Too ashamed to face him after what had happened between us.

“It’s not really for you. It’s more for me.” He tipped the bag and emptied the contents.

A phone.

“It’s an upgrade from your old flip phone. This one has Internet and stuff.”

I finally managed to look up at him. He was smiling, but the moment was awkward.

“I bought enough credit for a year. They charged it while I was buying it. I loaded Facebook on it and made you an account.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you have a Facebook account now. I’m your only friend. You can chat, send me pictures. Whatever.” He slid the phone over to me. “And it’s a gift. Mary always says never to look a gift horse in the mouth. I don’t really know what that means, but I think it means that if you get a gift, then you have to use it. This is my gift to you—you
have
to use it. You have to stay in touch. Send me messages. Pictures of where you are and what you’re doing. You have to let me know that you’re okay, and that you’re
healthy
.”

Mary sniffed, pulling me out of my thoughts. She buried her face in Dean’s arm.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry, Chloe,” Harry said.

“Thank you. I love it,” I said, wiping my cheeks.

“Promise me you’ll use it.”

I laughed. “You’re going to have to show me how.”

He grinned and picked up the phone.

I tried to listen to his instructions, but instead I noticed Blake watching us the entire time, his eyebrows drawn and a frown on his face.

He stayed that way until the bell above the door chimed, and Josh ran in, carrying Tommy. “Hey, everyone,” Josh’s words rushed out, and then he set Tommy on the floor. Tommy stood on wobbly feet. “Okay, Tommy. Do it!” Josh ordered.

Tommy dropped himself on his diaper-covered butt.

Josh rolled his eyes, picked him up, and set him on his feet again.

We all watched.

“He did it this morning, took his first step,” Josh informed us, his eyes trained on Tommy. “Go on, buddy, do it again.”

Tommy stood still. His little eyes moving from one person to the other.

“Come on,” Josh encouraged. “You’re making a liar out of your daddy.”

Tommy moved.

We held our breaths.

But then he fell on his butt again.

Josh sighed and set him on his feet.

Tommy pulled out his pacifier and pointed to Blake. “Hunt.”

Blake’s eyes went huge. “He can say my name!”

“You want Uncle Hunter?” Josh said excitedly. He pulled Blake out of the booth and stood him two feet in front of Tommy. “Go to Uncle Hunter,” he cooed.

“Hunt,” Tommy said again.

And then he took a step. Followed by another. And then another. He fell on the fourth, but it didn’t matter. We were out of our seats and cheering by the time Blake picked him up off the floor and sat him on his lap. “I’m your Uncle Hunt,” he said through a smile.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Blake

Graduation day.

The last day of Chloe.

It sucked.

Almost as much as the fact that when I woke up that morning and opened my eyes, Dad was hovering above me with what looked like a gift basket containing a basketball and Duke Blue Devils jersey. “What the fuck is this?”

For a second, I got scared. I let his intimidation work. And then I remembered Chloe and, all of a sudden, dealing with Dad didn’t seem so hard. Not compared to saying good-bye to her.

“What does it look like?” I threw the covers off me and stood toe to toe with him.

His eyes widened in surprise, but for only a second, before he recovered and glared at me. His lips turned into a snarl when he growled, “Did you tell them you were enlisting? Basketball is not a future, Hunter. What the fuck kind of lessons and achievements are you going to get from throwing a damn ball around?” His voice got louder with every word.

The thing was, if he would have actually sat down with me, tried to talk it out, maybe made suggestions as to why I should have chosen to enlist rather than play college ball, I would’ve listened to him. I would have heard him out, really considered his point of view. But all he’d done was make me want to tell him to fuck off and that he had no fucking clue about my life or me. So I bit my tongue and contained the rage that had been building for so long. Then I brushed past him, got in the shower, and dressed in the stupid graduation gown.

One day left.

I was going to miss the shit out of her.

Chloe

Arms around my waist gripped me tight. I panicked for a second, but then a familiarity set in.
Blake
. I was airborne. My legs kicked out in front of me as I mumbled some form of apology to the family whose ice cream I had just started to scoop. Blake and Josh’s laughter filled my ears. I stopped kicking and gave in to the inevitable.

The sunlight hit my eyes when they opened the storeroom door that led to an alleyway behind the building.

Blake set me carefully back on the ground. “I didn’t see you at the ceremony,” he said.

“I told you I wasn’t going. I was only working a half shift here, and I wanted some extra time with Dean and Mary.”

“Fair enough. But what about
my
extra time?” He pouted.

I leaned back against the wall and hid my hands behind me. “I’m sorry.”

Truth was I was avoiding him. I didn’t know how I would’ve reacted had I been at the graduation ceremony. I hated good-byes. So much so that I did everything I could just to avoid farewells. Luckily for me, I’d had years to get used to the idea of leaving everyone. When the kids had been heading off for school, I had told them I’d see them soon. Dean and Mary had taken me out to lunch, and then I’d gone to work. Mary had cried when she’d gotten in their car. I knew because I’d watched her. Letting them go actually wasn’t as bad as I’d thought it would be, especially since I’d promised Harry I’d keep it touch, and I had every intention of keeping that promise. I hadn’t said how often I’d contact them, but it would be often enough that they would know I was
healthy
.

Now came the hardest part of all: saying good-bye to Blake.

“We gotta be quick,” Josh interrupted my thoughts.

“We got you something. A good-bye gift, I guess.”

My heart sank. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Yeah, well . . .” He shrugged. “Something to remember us by.”

Josh held out something long and flat, wrapped in newspaper. I already knew what it was, without having to look. Stepping forward, I took it from his hands.

He shoved my shoulder. “Open it.”

Blake’s low chuckle caused the ache in my chest to tighten. He shoved my other shoulder. “Yeah, open it.”

Josh laughed, shoving me again. “Yeah, open it.”

I smiled and shook my head. “What is wrong with you guys?”

“Just do it,” Blake said, his voice low, serious.

I made a show of ripping the newspaper off and being surprised by the skateboard hidden underneath. “This is amazing!”

The storeroom door opened, and Trent, who had been hired to take my place stepped out. “It’s getting busy. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

“Alright, fucktard. Calm your tits,” Josh yelled.

Trent went back inside without another word.

I laughed. “A little harsh?”

Josh shook his head. “I’ve hated that asshole ever since I went to school with him.”

My eyebrows pinched, and I looked up at Blake. “He goes to our school?”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Chloe, you’ve met him! How do you not know these things?”

I shrugged.

Then I was engulfed in Josh’s arms. “I know you didn’t want good-byes,” he whispered in my ear. “So I’m not going to say it. I’m just going to say that I’m forever thankful I met you. And I’ll remember you always, Chloe.” He released his hold and took a step back.

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, containing the sob that was bursting to escape. I had held it back the entire day. I hadn’t cried with the kids, or with Mary and Dean. But I was on the edge now, and I didn’t want Blake to be the one to see it.

Josh nodded once, and then he was gone.

“It’s got your name on it,” Blake mumbled.

“What?”

“The board. Underneath. It has your name.”

I looked down at the board in my hands as I processed what he’d said. Then I flipped it over. Not Abby, in bright-red letters.

I laughed. “Always with the red,” I thought out loud and looked up at him. “You always write in red. What’s with that?”

He smiled sadly. “It’s you.”

“Me?”

“Yes.” He stepped forward and placed his hand on my waist, pushing me back against the wall.

I set the board down next to me. “What does it mean?”

“Red-letter days. It’s when something unexpectedly phenomenal happens.”

I choked on my sob.

“You’re my unexpectedly phenomenal, Chloe.
You’re
my red-letter day.”

My head dropped onto his chest, but his fingers laced in my hair, tilting my face up to look him in the eyes, like he’d done so many times before. His gaze roamed my face, searching for something I knew wasn’t there. “It’s still not enough, is it?”

My silence was his answer.

“No good-byes?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No good-byes.”

“Okay,” he whispered, his lips grazing mine. “Then I guess I’m just going to have to kiss you.”

With one hand in my hair and the other gripping my waist, he kissed me.

It could’ve been seconds, minutes, hours—it wasn’t long enough.

When Josh opened the door with a look of regret on his face—and an apology for interrupting us—we knew it was time.

That last kiss was our perfect good-bye.

Blake

I’d been searching for days for the words—something bigger and greater than
I
love you
—and I’d stood there, during our last hours together, with nothing to say. But then she’d asked about the red ink, the red letters, so I’d told her
she
was my unexpectedly phenomenal.

But it hadn’t been enough.

There’d been no words exchanged after the kiss, just a silent agreement that it had been our good-bye.

I watched the seconds of the clock tick by, waiting for her shift to be over. I was so consumed by the clock on the wall that the ticking of the seconds matched the thumping in my chest. Then Josh nudged me with his elbow. “She’s leaving.”

My eyes snapped to the exit, where she was walking out the doors, skateboard under her arm.

My heart stopped, but the ticking got louder.

Or so I thought.

But I had it wrong.

The ticking stopped. But my heart thumped harder.

And suddenly, everything that had happened in the past three months flashed before my eyes. Like a predeath slideshow. Only it wasn’t death. It was Chloe.
All Chloe.

I bounced on my feet.

And looked from the clock.

To the door.

To the clock.

Back to the door.

My hands fisted.

My body went rigid.

I turned to Josh.

He was smirking.

“Josh . . .”

That was all I had to say for his smirk to widen. “Hurry up, dude! She’s leaving!”

And then I ran.

Out the exit.

Through the parking lot.

And to her car.

She was pulling out of the spot.

I jumped into the passenger’s seat.

Literally, jumped.

She hit the brakes, her eyes wide. “What the hell are you doing?”

“The Road.”

“What!”

“Just drive!”

She stared a moment before a huge smile took over. “Are you sure?”

Adrenaline pumped through my veins. “Just drive, Chloe.” And for a split second, I panicked. Maybe she didn’t want me there. “Please?”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh my God,” she mumbled, before hitting the accelerator and peeling out of the parking lot.

We drove twenty minutes out of town before she pulled over. Her smile never faltered and she didn’t say a word. But when the car finally came to a stop and the squeal of her hand brake filled my ears, I got nervous.

She pushed open her door and stepped out.

I followed.

She started hastily walking down a hidden path, and it was only then that I realized where we were. Her mom’s lake. I had been too preoccupied, watching her drive, waiting for her to stop and kick me out, to notice where we’d been going.

She paused for a moment after the trees cleared and the lake was in view. I saw her shoulders lift, and I could picture what she was doing. She would have her eyes closed, be filling her lungs with the clean air that surrounded us.

I cleared my throat and stood next to her. “Chloe?”

She turned to me, confused, then a hint of a smile played on her lips. She took my hand, linking our fingers together, and led me to our rock. Or at least that was what I called it. A flat piece, hanging over the water’s edge. We had sat there, together, more times over the past nine weeks than I thought anyone had in an entire lifetime. She sat down, legs crossed like usual, and pulled me down with her. I sat behind her, with my legs on either side of her and my arms wrapped around her waist.

It was perfect.

And then it wasn’t.

“What are you doing, Blake?” She sounded so sad, I almost regretted getting into the car with her.
Almost.

“I’m not ready to lose you.”

She tilted her head to look up at me. I kissed her. Just once. I couldn’t help it. She smiled against my lips, but when she pulled away, her smile was gone, replaced by a sadness that had the power to destroy me. “That’s not an answer,” she said.

I tensed. She was right. I tried to think of something that would satisfy her. “I have a proposition,” I said on a whim.

“I like the sound of that,” she joked.

“Are you being a pig?”

“Yes.”

We both laughed.

“Duke’s fall semester starts August 19. After—”

“I’ll take it,” she cut in. “I’ll take anything you give me.”

Chloe

I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand why he’d chased after me, or why he was still there. He knew me. He knew my story. He knew
everything
.

“Stop it,” he murmured into my ear.

“What are you talking about?” I squeezed his hands and wrapped his arms tighter around me.

“I see the gears in your head spinning and, whatever you’re thinking about, stop it.”

“Okay,” I said quietly. “What do we do from here? Where do we go?”

He laughed. “Chloe, this is your journey. I’m just here for the ride. We do whatever you want.”

“I didn’t really have a plan,” I told him. “I was just gonna drive.”

He nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck. “That sounds like an amazing plan to me.”

And it was.

Until about two hours into the drive on the highway when he’d started to fidget in his seat. He’d changed the station on the radio numerous times, searched on his phone about hardwiring his iPod into said stereo, quizzed me about my lack of sports knowledge, and tried to fix the been-broken-forever console with a stick and a piece of gum.

Then he was bouncing in his seat, chewing his nails. He barely ever chewed his nails.
“Did you know that the human head weighs eight pounds?”

I glanced at him quickly. “I did actually. The kid from Jerry Maguire taught me that.”

“I love that kid!”

“Me too!”

“I wanted to be a sports agent because of that film. You know, if basketball didn’t work out.”

“Oh yeah?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Yup! Before that I wanted to be a fireman. And a racecar driver. Oh! And lion tamer. How good would that be? A lion tamer. I’d call my lion LeBron, and we’d go everywhere together. He would be my best friend and we’d go to the park and laugh at all the people with their petty dogs and I’d have a kick-ass lion. I’m going to do it. Do you think there are laws? Or an adoption program? All lions need love too. Maybe I can find a blind lion. It would be harder to train but it would be worth it because—”

“Oh my God,” I laughed and placed my hand firmly on his knee to stop the bouncing. “What is with you?”

He froze but eyed me sideways. Then he sucked in a huge breath. “Chloe, I’m fucking bored.”

I looked at the clock on the dashboard. “We’ve only been driving a couple hours.”

“I know, but I’m not used to just sitting around. I’m always doing stuff.”

“Okay.” I tried to settle him. “What do you normally do? What can
we
do to stop this boredom?”

He rolled his eyes. “Quit talking to me like I’m a kid, for one.”

I giggled. “Well, tell me what you normally do.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Shoot hoops, skate, run, fuck.”

I choked on air.

His eyes shut tight. “Ignore that last one.”

I did. “Pass me my bag?”

He reached into the backseat and then handed me my bag. I pulled out a lollipop, ripped the wrapper off with my teeth, and held it in front of his mouth.