“Where we are going?” I ask.
“My bedroom. We need to talk.”
West
We didn’t reach my bedroom. Mom was changed and out her door in less than thirty seconds.
The moment I introduced Haley to my mother, Haley’s face drained as she connected the dots—I was a Young. Instead of allowing Haley time to decompress, my mother, the blinding social snowplow that she is, grabbed on to Haley and has yet to let go.
With a hip cocked against the doorframe and arms crossed over my chest, I watch as Haley graciously laughs and chats with my mother at the massive island in the overly large kitchen of stainless-steel everything.
I don’t understand a lot of what’s happening, but I know one thing: Abby told the truth. I did tear out of the bar like my skin was on fire and the guilt rides me hard that I left Mom to fend for herself. I assume Abby stayed to protect my mother’s back. For that, I do owe Abby.
Mom opens another photo album, flips through the pages and slips it over to Haley. “This was taken on the day we brought West home.”
I’m eighteen today and I have never brought a girl home. Damn, Mom must have been dying to do this for a long time. Except for the fact that she spends her days and nights at the hospital instead of at a charity function, life has returned to normal...at least for everyone else. It’s like, to them, I never left.
Haley examines the photo and glances at me with laughter in her eyes. “Your onesie says angel. I’m so going to remember that.”
“That’s because he was.” Mom slides her fingers against the photo as if she could make the newborn me pop out and be real. “I had West to save Colleen.”
Mom told Haley about Colleen a few minutes ago. Colleen was Mom’s firstborn and she died of cancer when she was a teenager. Mom and Dad had Colleen, Gavin and Jack in a group and they considered their family done. When Colleen became sick, all bets were off.
“Colleen needed bone marrow, so I had West in hopes he’d be a match.”
“Was he?” Haley’s eyes flash to mine. She’s aware Colleen passed but doesn’t know the when, the how or the why. But in the end, do any of us know the why?
“No,” I answer for Mom. “I wasn’t a match.” A failure since birth.
“It didn’t matter.” Mom touches the picture again. “Colleen was too sick by then and died shortly after West was born.”
My legacy in this house was formed a few days after my first breath: I failed at my sole purpose of life and my birth will forever be associated with Colleen’s death. Mom went on to become pregnant with Ethan and Rachel shortly after because I wasn’t enough to make her happy. All Mom desired was a girl, a replacement for the child she lost.
“Well then.” Mom shuts the album and forces a fake smile. “What are your plans?”
“Quiet night,” I answer. “I thought I’d show Haley my room. Maybe watch some movies.” Have her break my heart into pieces because I’ve lied about who I am.
Mom narrows her eyes as she stands. “I want the door unlocked and I expect you to behave like a gentleman.”
I laugh. If she knew what I’ve been doing behind locked doors at other people’s houses, she would have given me this modified sex talk years ago. Mom pokes me in the stomach as she passes. “I mean it.” Then leans in and kisses me on my cheek. “Happy birthday, West.”
“Thanks.”
Mom softly pads out into the foyer and up the stairs. She won’t sleep in her bedroom tonight. Instead, she’ll go into the mausoleum that once was Colleen’s room.
The patter of different feet draws me back to the kitchen and cool fingers against my wrist connects me with Haley. “Why didn’t you tell me it’s your birthday?”
“I’m not a birthday fan. Sucks to be reminded once a year you weren’t wanted.”
Haley tilts her head. “She wanted you.”
“To save Colleen.” I was brought into this world to save somebody else. “I’ve done this for eighteen years now. I know what she sees when she looks at me.”
Haley nudges the floor with her foot. “Are you going to show me your room?”
I scratch my jaw, trying not to put too much hope into her statement. “You sure?”
She nods. Not giving her a chance to change her mind, I link our fingers together and, for the second time tonight, walk her up the stairs. At the landing, I pause and notice light shining from the cracks of Colleen’s door. Across the hall, Rachel’s door remains shut. Thank God Rachel didn’t die. Mom wouldn’t have survived an additional loss.
I lead Haley away from Mom and in the direction of my bedroom. Once inside, I flip the light on and, out of respect for my mother, keep the closed door unlocked.
With her thumbs hitched in her pocket, Haley surveys the room: king-size bed, flat-screen television, gaming systems, a stereo, and, with another flick of a switch, Haley finds the full bathroom.
“Wow.” Her voice echoes from within. “You’ve got a Jacuzzi tub.” Her head pokes around the door. “Do you actually use it?”
“No. When Ethan, Rachel and I were little we used to pour bubble bath into it, then turn it on so the bubbles would overflow onto the floor.” I smile at the memory of Rachel laughing.
She exits the bathroom. “Your mother must have hated you as children.”
“At least we were clean.”
The joke earns me a giggle, but the happiness fades as she straightens a picture of me, Ethan and Rachel on my mirror—Rachel’s in the middle and Ethan and I have our arms locked around her. “You lied to me about your age.”
She means I lied to her about me. “I was close to eighteen. I figured it didn’t matter.”
Haley raises her eyebrows, either in agreement or disagreement, I don’t know. Regardless, she keeps her comments to herself. While it often drives me crazy that she lives in her own head, there are times I appreciate her silence.
“Why were you kicked out?” Haley’s slow to face me, and when she does there’s a hardness to her. She’s playing judge and jury and she has a right to.
“My oldest brother, Gavin, has a gambling problem. He became indebted to some bad people, so I stole money from Rachel to help pay the debt. Turns out Rachel had her own problems and needed the money. To make up for it, she and her boyfriend drag raced to raise the funds I took. Long story short, Rachel’s now in the hospital and my father, rightfully, blames me.”
“He kicked you out because you tried to help your older brother?”
“He kicked me out because I don’t trust him and he doesn’t trust me...” Say it. “And because I’m a disgrace. Look, I smoke pot. I drink. I party every weekend. I’ve been suspended more times than I’ve had first days of school and I fight more often than I laugh. And as for girls...” I’d rather rip off my own skin than admit to her the reality of those sins.
She massages her temples and I wish I could crawl into her mind.
“Who are you? None of this—” and she motions around the room “—fits what I know.”
“Maybe because what you’ve seen isn’t the real me.”
“I’ve seen you. I know I have but...all of this...” Haley sags against my dresser and brings her hands to her face. “You’re a Young.”
Every bad decision I’ve made catches up to me and it will push away the one person I’ve learned to love. How can someone like her want to be with someone like me?
“I’m not just any Young. I’m West Young. I’m the unnamed delinquent son you read about in the papers.”
Haley
I fought in a competition where I was overmatched. The girl had more experience than me, more wins than me, was just more than me. After the first round, my mind was a mixture of confusion, chaos and despair. She knocked me from one end of the ring to another, all but picking me up and using me
as a mop for the floor. Right now, I don’t feel much different.
My hand slips to my stomach as it churns. What makes this sickening isn’t that I’m training West; it’s because I’ve fallen for West. Blindly. Deeply. Hard. All the ways I’d sworn I’d never fall again. And I fell for the fighter. When will I ever learn?
“I can’t train you if you drink or smoke pot.” We’ll continue the training if he intends to proceed with the fight. “It’s not acceptable for an athlete. Plus I don’t like it.”
“I haven’t touched either one since Rachel’s accident.” He holds out his hands. “I’m plain-day sober and plan on staying that way.”
“We should have stuck with simple,” I whisper. I glance around the room. Flat-screen television. Stereo that costs more than two months’ deposit at the cheapest apartment complex in our school district. Everything that life could offer him right here at his fingertips.
“This isn’t news—that my family has money,” he mumbles.
“Yeah, well, being a Young is!” I snap. “You never thought that was important to tell?”
“I never hid the last name, either.”
“You lied! Even if you didn’t say the words, you lied!”
“You’re right, okay?” he shouts, then calms downs. “I lied. I liked that you didn’t see me as a Young. For the first time, someone judged me for me, for who I was alone and not who my parents were and what their money could do for them. Being with you...it was like being offered a second chance and I’m sorry if I fucked it up.”
For the first time since West broke down and showed me the truth behind the iron curtain, I look at him. Really look at him. West casts his gaze away, tucks his chin near his throat, then crosses his arms over his chest. Leaning against the door of his room, he’s closed off, shut down...his guard is up. West is expecting a beating.
It’s his birthday. I sweep my bangs out of my sight and straighten. It’s his birthday and not a soul here tried to celebrate it with him. Even his mother spent more time talking to me than she did him. West hovered, watching us, but never engaged.
My heart trips over itself—West never engaged.
A few weeks ago, his father kicked him out while his sister fought for her life in ICU. What does that say about his family? Even better, what does it say about West and his relationship with his father that West didn’t want to come back to live here? I scrub my fingers over my face. I’m doing what West says everybody does to him: I’m judging him. I’m judging him based on a last name, based on an assumption of money. I’m just judging.
Think, Haley. West Young. My West Young. The guy who fought for me when Conner and his friend tried to jump me. The guy who took on a fight to help save my family. The guy who held me while I mourned my own losses. That’s West Young. The man I’m falling for.
I don’t know who his family sees, but I see who West really is.
“They don’t know you, do they?” I move toward him as the confusion and chaos fades.
West glances up, startled. “Who?”
“Everyone.”
A grim smile pulls on his mouth. “They know me. They know me very well.”
“I don’t think they do.” I touch his biceps. I’ve trained with West for over a month. He was fit before but he’s leaner now, sculpted and shaped. West has made me laugh, he’s held me at my lowest and he’s stood by me when no one else has. Matt had words—plenty of useless words. West is all action.
The same fight from before barrels into the forefront of my brain. At the end of three rounds and the winner declared, I sat defeated on a stool. My grandfather squatted in front of me, gave me that rare smile and patted my knee. “You did good, kid.”
It almost killed me to meet John’s eyes. “I failed.”
He shook his head. “In my book, you won. You’ve got fight in you, girl. Three rounds of pounding to be exact. More importantly, you’ve got heart. I couldn’t be prouder.”
Who West was before he slammed the brakes of his car inches from me isn’t my concern because the man in front of me...he has heart.
“Matt offered to end all of this,” I say. “He’ll put an end to the fight in a few weeks. He’ll prevent any retaliation on my family that I’ve feared from him or the Black Fire boys...He’ll make everything go away if I broke up with you and returned to him.”
He grinds his teeth. “Over my dead body. If you even think of returning to him—”
“I’m not accepting,” I cut him off. “I’ve chosen you. I’m ready, West. I’m ready to be with you.”
His eyes widen. “Why?”
“Because...” I inhale deeply. “Because you have heart.”
West
Did she just say...? No, I heard it wrong. It’s not possible.
The scent of wildflowers fills the air as Haley skims her fingers along my biceps. It’s a tickling touch, pleasurable enough to heat my blood and awaken parts that should remain silent.
“I like you,” she says. “When it comes to you, everyone else has it wrong.”
Haley wraps her hand around my wrist and as much as I want to ignore the truth, I can’t. “I’ve made mistakes,” I say. “Big ones.”
“So have I. You’re not the only one who’s messed up. You told me once to let you know when I was ready for us to be a couple...” She trails off and my brows rise.
“Are you sure about this? About me? Us?”
“I’m scared.” She sucks in a breath and her hand trembles. “Matt and I didn’t work out.”
The need to protect her sweeps through me. I cup her face and slide my fingers over her cheeks. “I’m not Matt.”
She moves her head in my hands as if she agrees, but the fear consuming her eyes tells the story engraved on her soul. Someday, she’ll trust me enough to tell me the truth. For now, I’ll be that home she lost—I’ll be that soft, secure place where she can land.
I lean so that our foreheads almost touch. “I mean it. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not him.”
“I know,” she whispers. “But it doesn’t make falling any less frightening.”
My nose drifts along hers and the pull I’ve been fighting strengthens. “Don’t think of it as falling. Think of it as jumping—with me.”
I feel the curve of her smile beneath my lips. “How is jumping better?”
“Falling happens. Jumping you choose.” And you chose to do it with me.
“I still don’t see—”
“Haley,” I cut her off while tunneling my fingers into her hair. The girl way overanalyzes. “Stop thinking and jump.”
My muscles react like I’m stepping into a hot shower as my lips melt against hers. Our bodies transform into liquid, shaping and forming into the other. Her hands roam my back and mine fist her hair. The kiss builds in intensity. Her lips are soft and pliant, and as we angle closer, Haley opens her mouth and I accept the invitation.
Our tongues meet and every cell in my body explodes to life. My hands seek lower—the curve of her waist, the hollow of her back, craving hot skin. Haley caresses my face and the intimacy of her touch weakens my knees and causes me to lose track of reality and time.
I wrap my arms around Haley’s waist and lift her so that her head is above mine and her feet dangle off the floor. Her silky hair brushes against my cheeks and I moan with the sensation. She’s tiny in my arms—a weightless feather tickling my skin.
We never break the kiss as I carry Haley to my bed. Both of her hands explore my jaw, my hair, tease the strands near the base of my neck. All of it sends a ripple of excitement through my bloodstream and the resulting shockwaves cause me to silently beg for more.
I brace her head and back for the soft tumble onto the bed. My leg lands over hers and I keep it there as I taste her neck, caress her midriff. Half of me covers her and it
feeds the images of what I long to do—to completely blanket her body with mine. I yearn to touch her skin, to unbutton her shirt, to...
Haley turns her head and gasps. “West.” It’s a desperate sound full of lust and want and a whole lot of slow down.
I inhale deeply as I rest my arm across her stomach and nuzzle my nose into the sensitive part behind her ear. Haley’s delicious. She smells delicious. She tastes delicious. I could spend the rest of my life devouring her. “Yes?”
Her fingers move in my hair and her body inches closer to mine, but it’s not a sign to continue; it’s a sign that she desires more than something physical. I’ve never done more. Whenever a girl breaks away, I’m usually out of bed and out the door. For Haley, there’s more because she is more. She’s slowly becoming my everything.
With a slow kiss to her neck, I kick off my shoes and she squirms as she does the same. I draw Haley with me to the top of the bed, ignoring how her thighs shifting across my legs encourage my fantasies.
Haley’s hair cascades into a light brown halo as she settles her head into the pillow. She looks up at me with those large dark eyes and a shy smile. “This is a soft pillow.”
“I like it. It’s my favorite.”
“Is it?”
“It is now.” I warm at the sight of her in my bed lying next to me. I tuck a stray hair away from her face and the pieces of myself that felt missing suddenly return and fit.
For weeks Haley and I have talked about what home is and what it means: a building, a structure, a memory. It’s none of those things. For me, home is the contentment currently bubbling up inside me. Home is the rush of emotions buzzing in my veins.
“You asked me earlier what it was like to come home,” I say.
Haley nods. I lace our fingers together and raise them into the air. “I couldn’t answer you because I didn’t know, but now I do. This—” I rock our hands “—I finally found home.”
Haley
West and I have been officially together for a week. I swapped shifts so that I now work on Mondays and have Fridays off. This way, I can train with John in the morning, train West in the afternoon, then spend quality time with my boyfriend.