But what exactly is his endgame?
He turns me around, pressing me against the tree, his body cooled from the rain, his tongue hot on my lips. Then he kisses both of my eyes, down my cheek, and across to my ear.
He whispers, “I still love you, Lou. I never stopped.”
I push him away, snatching my dress from the ground. Shaking off the leaves that have fallen on it, I glare at him.
“No. You aren’t allowed to do that now. To say that. Not after all this time. Not after I wanted you to say it so badly for so long, but you packed up and left instead.”
I yank the dress over my head, tying the straps behind my neck as I stalk away. I have to get out of here before my heart changes my mind.
NINETEEN
I throw myself backward on the wet blanket as Lou walks away. It’s hard to believe I laid my heart out there like that and she just tossed it back in my face.
Fuck.
I never thought showing someone you love them could be so damned hard.
There was a time when it was easy between us. Lou used to follow me wherever I went. Whatever I came up with, she’d go along with—even if we both knew it was gonna land us in hot water.
The trees sway in the breeze even as thick humidity rises now that the sun’s come out again.
How often did we lay under these very trees, talking and dreaming about what our futures would hold? So many times Lou talked about our lives. Since that first summer I moved in with Nan and Pops, when Lou and I became friends, she always talked about the future as if we’d be fixtures in each other’s lives. Shit. I did too.
A memory of Lou and me stuffing a jar full of small things we thought we’d want to see later comes to mind. I sit up and pull the edge of the blanket away from the base of the magnolia tree. Sifting through the mud, I work my fingers deep until they hit the jar I’m looking for. I pull it from the ground and wipe the mud from our time capsule’s sides. It’s surprising the glass held up and didn’t get entwined in the roots too much to get out of the ground without much effort.
I think we must’ve buried this thing the second, maybe the third, summer we were friends. I must’ve been ten or eleven. I grip the lid, but it won’t budge. I get to my feet, toss it to the middle of the quilt, and wrap it up.
* * *
I step under the hot spray and scrub the mud from my hands. Holding the shower head, I allow it to drain over my hair. The water flows over my face.
There has to be a way to make Lou remember the way she felt about me. Maybe the time capsule is the key to bringing Lou back to what we used to mean to each other—how she trusted me back then and the way were together, so in tune with one another.
She never said it—hell, I never said it before today either—but she must’ve cared about me to still be so upset that I left. Maybe she even loved me—a little, anyway. I just have to get her to remember what that felt like.
How do I get her back to that place?
A cold draft washes over the top of the shower curtain. “Pops? I’ll be out in a minute.”
The curtain swishes back, the rings screeching along the ancient rod. I blink the water from my eyes as I turn.
Though she’s fuzzy for a moment, it doesn’t take seeing clearly to know that blonde hair.
“Hey, Buck. Miss me?”
“What the fuck, Arianne? How’d you get in, and where are the Thugs? What do you think you’re doing? ”
“Getting in the shower, hoping to get a little clean while we get a little dirty.”
I shake my head. “Oh, hell no! Out. Get the fuck out.”
Her hands slide over my pecs. “Buck, don’t be that way. Just make love to me. I’ve missed you.”
I push the curtain aside, stepping onto the tile floor, missing the rug. My foot slides out from under me. My arms wave. I almost catch myself on the counter, but I lose my bid for balance. A sharp pain explodes at the back of my head, sending a white flash before my eyes.
* * *
My heart has moved to my brain. It beats inside my skull.
How does that happen?
I reach for the sore spot where the throb seems to originate.
Cool hands pull at my arm. “No. No. Don’t touch it. That’ll just make it hurt worse.”
Nan comes into focus.
“He waking up?” Pops leans around her, his forehead wrinkled.
“I think so, call a nurse.”
My eyes are sticky and my lids heavy, or maybe it’s the over bright lights that make me want to keep them closed.
I force them open anyway. “What happened?”
Nan looks to Pops.
He takes her place, patting my hand. “You took a fall in the bathroom. Good thing Arianne was there.”
Nan lets out a loud huff.
I grip the bed’s side rail. “Arianne?”