Read Until Friday Night Page 14

imagine being able to let anyone else close to me. I’ve never been one to let people in. But something about you has gotten to me since the first moment I saw you. I just—” He shook his head as if he didn’t know what to say. “I can’t figure out how to handle it. You. What I’m feeling.”

“Do you remember the first time we met?” I asked him, unable to let it go. I wanted him to admit he remembered kissing me. Maybe I shouldn’t push that tonight, but at least it was a distraction. He needed that too.

A small smile tugged on his lips, and he looked away from me, back down at the town below us. “Yeah. Not exactly something a guy forgets.”

Okay. . . . Did that mean he remembered kissing me? Or that I didn’t used to talk?

“You’ve never mentioned that night,” I said, wanting more from him.

He turned his gaze back to me. “But I think about it all the time. Even though I shouldn’t. I think about it.”

That made me happy. Knowing he liked remembering that moment. Because it was one of my favorite memories, and I wanted him to think about it too.

“Do you think about it?” he asked.

I nodded but didn’t say anything else.

He took a step toward me, and my heart rate picked up. “Do you think about it often?”

If he got any closer, I wasn’t sure I would be able to continue breathing. The birds in my stomach were going crazy. Finally I nodded.

“Did you enjoy it?” he asked.

Oh God. I needed air. Lots of air. West was so close to me now, and he was asking me if I had enjoyed our kiss. I managed a nod, then blurted out, “Did you?” before I could stop myself.

He grinned. “Best I ever had.”

I stared up at him and held his gaze. “It was the only one I’ve ever had.”

West froze, and his sexy smolder turned to surprise. “What?” he asked.

I wanted him to know he was my first kiss. My only kiss. It was special to me. I wanted it to be special to him, too. “That was the first kiss I ever had. The only kiss I’ve ever had.”

West held my gaze as he looked at me with disbelief. Then he hung his head and muttered a curse before backing away from me. That was definitely not the reaction I’d wanted.

I wasn’t sure how to fix this. I was good at helping him deal with pain and sorrow because that was something I knew. I didn’t know much about boy-girl relationships.

I had just opened my mouth to say something when West lifted his face and turned back to me. Then he moved. I didn’t have a chance to react before his hands were on my waist and his chest was pressed against mine. “A girl’s first kiss should never be from an asshole who’s taking his anger at life out on her. Lips this sweet shouldn’t be treated the way I treated them. I can’t take it back, but I can replace it. With something better.” He dipped his head. “This is what your first kiss should have been like,” he whispered against my lips before his mouth covered mine.

His hands moved to cup my face as if I were something he treasured and didn’t want to break. Then his tongue slid across my bottom lip, and I opened up for him.

My hands slid into his hair as I held on to him. The warmth of his minty breath teased me and made me crave more. When the tip of his tongue slid along mine, I trembled in his arms.

His hands moved down from my face and grabbed my waist again as he jerked me closer to him and deepened the kiss. It was as if he couldn’t get enough of me. Not like I was any better. My hands fisted in his hair and were holding him to me. Afraid he’d leave me again. I wasn’t sure I could handle him regretting this. I didn’t want him to pretend like this hadn’t happened.

I heard a distant moan and realized it had come from me. West broke our kiss. He didn’t move far, just rested his forehead against mine while breathing heavily. “I take it back. This . . . this was the best I’ve ever had.”

My body hummed with pleasure. I had made him feel this way. Me. His friend. The girl he didn’t touch that way or look at with any kind of attraction.





I Would Not Lose Her





CHAPTER 30


WEST

I had just wanted to fix it. Make her first kiss something special. I didn’t want that kiss I’d taken while I was hurting to be her first fucking kiss. I just meant to give her what she deserved. But holy hell, she’d tasted even better than I remembered. Her body was meant to be worshiped. It molded so perfectly under my hands. And her sweet sounds. God help me, I wanted more of that. Of her.

Fuck.

I hadn’t meant to do that. What we had was more than this. More than a sexual attraction. More than something cheap. It was deeper, and I couldn’t lose it. If I had more with her, I would mess it up and I would lose her. But I couldn’t lose Maggie. I would do anything to keep her. Including not taking more of that mouth currently swollen and wet from my kiss.

“West?” she whispered. I could hear the unease in her voice.

I forced my hands to let her go.

“That . . . that was how it should have been,” I said, forcing myself to look at her but not grab her again.

Maggie touched her lips with her fingertips, and I swear to God my knees buckled a little. She had to stop doing sexy shit.

Her eyes were studying me. The endearing, glazed-over look they’d had when I’d first moved away from her was turning into something else. I was confusing her. Damn it.

“I wanted your first kiss to be special, Maggie. That was all,” I said, hearing the lie in my own voice.

Her hand dropped to her side, and her gaze fell to the ground. “It was. Both of them. In different ways,” she said without looking at me.

Was she hurt? Why wasn’t she looking at me?

“Are you okay? Did I do something I shouldn’t have? Don’t be mad at me. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She lifted her gaze and gave me a smile that didn’t meet her eyes. There was sadness to it. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m not upset. Just taken by surprise. But not upset . . . Thank you.”

We didn’t talk about it again. I led us back to the truck, and Maggie sat beside me as we looked out at the town. We talked some but not much. This was all I needed. Having her here with me. When I was alone, I’d let myself remember how she felt in my arms. How she tasted and the sounds she made that drove me crazy. But for now I was just thankful I had her with me.

Around three that morning I got Maggie safely back up to her room before heading home. Momma was sleeping peacefully. I was sure the pill had helped. I thought about taking a shower, but I took a sniff of my shirt. I could smell the faint scent of vanilla. I decided I wouldn’t shower or even change.

I climbed into bed and went to sleep thinking about Maggie. I held on to memories of that kiss to keep the other memories back. I wasn’t ready to face them yet.

The next day was full, helping Momma make funeral arrangements. Dad had left several requests about his funeral. It was tough reading the paper where he’d written them down. Several times I reached for my phone, wanting to hear Maggie’s voice. But I never dialed.

I had to be strong for my mother today. I couldn’t keep reaching out for Maggie.

Making sure my momma ate and slept took all my attention while I answered the door and took in the food people in town were bringing. Where they thought we’d put all this, I didn’t know. We had more food than we had space. I filled up the freezer and fridge. Now things were just sitting on the bar. For the last pound cake that had arrived, I’d just put it on the table.

Why did they think food would help? Getting my mother to actually eat was hard enough. I sure couldn’t eat all this by myself.

The funeral was scheduled for three days after Dad’s passing. Dealing with the arrangements, the phone calls, and my mother had kept me from talking to Maggie for more than an hour the past couple of nights. I hadn’t been to school this week, and I didn’t make the mistake of going to get her. I was so emotional right now, I couldn’t be sure I wouldn’t kiss her again. Pull her closer. My need for her was changing and growing, and I was scared of it. I didn’t trust myself to push things further with her and not mess up. I always messed up.

I would not lose her.





I Wish I Had Been There





CHAPTER 31


MAGGIE

I didn’t wear black. There would be enough black. Enough sadness. I didn’t remember much about my mother’s funeral. The only thing I did remember was the black. I hated all the black. My mother hated black. She said it was drab. Everyone needed some color in their life.

Jude wouldn’t have liked all the black either. He’d liked to laugh, and he’d looked for the brightness in life. I chose a green dress that matched my eyes. Because he’d said my eyes were pretty.

Uncle Boone, Aunt Coralee, Brady, and I all rode together to the graveside ceremony. Most funerals in the South were held in churches or funeral homes before they took the casket to the grave. But West said his dad hadn’t wanted a long ceremony for people to mourn. He wanted it quick. Easy. Nothing fancy.

We parked along the street like everyone else and then made our way to the large white tent where people were beginning to gather. I searched for West until our eyes met. He was standing by his mother, watching me walk toward him. Today would be the day it would finally become real to him.

My mother’s funeral hadn’t been when it had sunk in for me, simply because I hadn’t been well then. My mind had been refusing to accept what I had witnessed. But I knew seeing his father lowered into the ground would hit West hard. And I would be there if he needed me.

West motioned for me to come stand beside him. I didn’t glance back at my aunt and uncle to make sure it was okay. I knew they’d understand. I walked past the rows of people until I was close enough for West to take my hand in his. The firm grip told me he wasn’t okay.

“I like your dress,” he said, leaning down to whisper near my ear. “It matches your eyes.”

I glanced up at him. “Your dad liked my eyes. He said they were pretty.”

A sad smile touched his lips. “Yeah, he did. He’d like that dress, too.”

Others arrived and came to say their condolences to West and his mother. Through it all he never let go of my hand. When the minister began speaking, West’s mother sank into the chair placed behind her and sobbed quietly.

I could feel West tremble beside me when it was time for him to lay the rose on his father’s casket. I eased my hand out of his and waited as he walked forward and put the red rose down. “You’ll always be my hero,” he said, loud enough that I could hear him, as he stared at the casket.

When he turned and walked back to me, I could see the tense expression on his face. He was holding back the emotion I knew was strangling him while trying to stay strong for his mother.

His hand was back in mine the moment he was beside me.

I didn’t hear much that was said after that. I was too focused on West and the rigid way he was standing. It was as if he’d turned to stone. His grip on my hand was like he was holding on to me for fear I’d run off.

I was okay with that. I didn’t intend to leave him.

As the casket began to lower into the grave, West inhaled sharply, and his mother stood up and grabbed on to his arm, leaning into him. He wrapped his arm around his momma and held her against him.

Slowly, people began to leave. Some came by and patted West on the back and said something to his mother, but it was all very quiet. Brady, Asa, Nash, Gunner, and Ryker all walked up and stood behind West. Each one squeezed his shoulder and said things like, “I’m here if you need me, man,” and “Love you, bro,” and “You need me, call me.”

West nodded and acknowledged all of them. Each one also stopped and hugged Olivia, which only made her cry more. Once they were done, they all slowly walked away. I didn’t know what West wanted me to do, but I knew my aunt and uncle were waiting on me.

I looked up at him. “I’ll stay if you need me.”

He glanced over at his mother, then back at me. “Can you get out tonight?”

I could do whatever he wanted me to do. I nodded.

“I’ll be at the bottom of the ladder at eleven.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

There was a knock on my bedroom door around ten that night. I knew my aunt and uncle were already in bed, so the only person it could be was Brady. I had stayed up here the rest of the day and tried to read. But my mind had been on West and his mother. If he needed me and called, I wanted to be alone so I could answer him.

Opening the door to Brady, I stared up at him curiously. He never came to my room. He barely even tried talking to me anymore. I couldn’t blame him. It was hard to talk to someone who didn’t talk back.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

I nodded, stepping back so he could come in. Again, something he never did. I knew this was about West. I imagined Brady had been worrying about him today too. It was hard not to after the last few days.

Brady walked in, his hands tucked into his front pockets, looking unsure of what to do or say.

“Mom and Dad are asleep, but sound travels down that hall. Could you close the door?” he asked.

I did as he asked.

“I saw you talk to him today. I thought I saw it before, but I definitely know I saw it today.”

I had expected this, eventually. Although I had tried not talking to him where people could see, there were times like today when I hadn’t worried about anything other than comforting West.

I didn’t reply. What did he want me to say? Did he expect me to admit it and talk to him? Because that would change everything. Tomorrow I’d have to face a life where people expected me to talk. They’d invade my privacy and want to know things I didn’t want to tell them.

Not talking was my security blanket. I wasn’t ready to let it go.

“I didn’t see it once, Maggie. I saw it several times. And I’ve seen it at school. You don’t always move your mouth, but West is listening to you. I can tell by his expression.” Brady sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not here to demand that you talk to me. Or anyone. I’m just . . . I’m confused. If you can talk, why wouldn’t you talk to everyone? Why just West?”

He was asking questions. Questions he wanted me to answer with my voice. But I wouldn’t talk, not tonight. I walked over to get the note pad on my window seat. I wrote:

He needs me. I understand him and his pain.

Then I handed the pad to Brady.

He read it then lifted his eyes back to me. “So, this is your connection. This is why he’s with you all the time and he’s all of the sudden holding your hand and acting like he needs you to breathe. He wasn’t lying about you just being friends. You’re helping him deal with all . . . this.”

I nodded.

Brady looked relieved. He held the note pad out for me. “I get it. But one day you’ll need to focus on helping you. Hiding from the world this way isn’t healthy. You’re not healing. You’re avoiding.”

No, I was protecting myself. I didn’t write that down, though. I just stood and waited for him to leave or say something else.

My phone dinged, and I reached into my pocket for it.

I’m outside. Waiting on you at the bottom of the ladder.

He was here. I glanced at the window then back at Brady.

“He’s out there, isn’t he?” Brady said, following my gaze to the window.

I could lie, but I trusted Brady. He loved West too.

So I nodded.

He gave me a sad smile. “Be careful, Maggie.”

He had said that before. Many times. I had told myself that too. But it no longer seemed to matter. I was past the point of being careful where West was concerned, and I didn’t know how to fix that. Or if I even wanted to.

I waited until he’d left my room then closed the door behind him and hurried to the window to climb out.





It Was Selfish, But I Did It Anyway





CHAPTER 32


WEST