A Son of Carver (Carver High #2) (27 page)

“No,” I tell her, shaking my head. “We are done with that I just wanted you to know that.”

“You realize I could always tell when you were lying to me and when you were telling me the truth. There was only one time I fell for your bullshit, but other than that I always knew. Why do you think I wouldn’t make any kind of real commitment to you?”

“What time was that… when you believed me?”

“The first time I asked you about Jolee after I came back from LA.” She laughs. “Presley tried to tell me the truth and I didn’t believe her. I believed you. She could always see through your bullshit though – from day one, before you even did anything to her, she could call your bullshit from a mile away.”

Jesus. How fucked up is that?
I shake my head. I don’t know how to make sense out of that.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah… I mean, no, I’m not. But it’s nothing you have to worry about.”

“Listen, Nash, hearing about the accident… it scared me. I couldn’t stop thinking about how much worse it could have been. Or the fact that it easily could have been you in that car. I know the four of us are trying  to get past everything that’s happened, but it wasn’t until that moment that I realized I really do wish you were still part of my life… that the four of us could get back what we had. Because you guys were my family. And you still mean a lot to me. And… I’ve forgiven you. I’ve truly, one hundred percent forgiven you for everything you did to me and I hope you can forgive me too. And Brandon for that matter.”

“I don’t know if it even matters anymore… but thank you. It honestly means a lot to me that you’re willing to do that. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know,” she tells me with a sad smile. She reaches out and wraps her arms around me, giving me a quick hug before releasing me. It’s a feeling I used to know well and one that I thought I loved, but nothing feels the same anymore. Nothing will ever feel the same.

The rest of the day is one big fog. I can’t get outside of my head. I can’t see more than an inch in front of me. And I’m dreading going home. I can’t be moping around that house when I’m supposed to be helping my dad out. And I know he’ll ask about her. I know he’ll nag my ass until I tell him why she’s not there. “Fuck,” I mutter to myself as I reach my truck.

“I know… you don’t want to talk to me, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be a pain in your ass.”

I look up and see Presley standing by the hood of my truck. “No… I mean, that’s not why I was saying fuck… I didn’t even see you there. What are you doing there?”

“You’re dad’s harassing me. I tried to tell him that you would probably want him to yourself tonight, but he’s threatening my life.”

“What? Did he call you?” I ask, baffled.

“Texting,” she says, holding out her phone and running a finger down the screen so I can see what looks like pages and pages of conversation.
Is he who she was texting in class? What the hell.

“He texts you?”

She screws up her face at me. “Constantly. Doesn’t he text you?”

“No. Never.”

“Figures,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Anyways, I know you’re probably still pissed at me but I figured if I just stopped in and said hi or whatever maybe I could live to see another day.”

“Me, pissed at you? You think I’m pissed at you?” I ask, completely confused.

“Well aren’t you?”

“Jesus, no. Why the hell would I be pissed off at you?”

“Nash,” she says, like it should be obvious. After a few moments of me not responding she says, “Because all those awful things I said to you.”

“That I totally deserved,” I seethe.

“You didn’t. And then after I laid all that on you it took me the rest of the day to find my sanity which meant I avoid you all day… I’m sorry.”

“You’re messing with me, right?”

“What?”

“You’re not seriously apologizing to me?”

“Of course I am.”

“No,” I mutter, taking a step towards her, getting close enough that I can feel the warmth from her body, but not touching her. “Don’t. Just don’t, okay. And you don’t have to be in my house just because my dad’s a pain in the ass. I’ll tell him to knock that shit off.”

She screws up her face at me, all pissed off, then turns and goes to the passenger side of my truck. She flings the door open and climbs in, slamming it behind her.

I stand there, my body filling with rage. What the hell is wrong with her? I go to the passenger side, pull the door open and tell her, “Get out.”

“No, Nash. You get in.” She pulls on the door handle, but I’m not letting her do this.

“Angel and Tatum were right, Presley, you look completely stupid. You know all the shit I’ve done, you know exactly who I am and yet you’re sitting in my truck, asking to come home with me. So I’m telling you… get the hell out.”

“You’re right, Nash,” she growls at me. “I do know exactly who you are. But you’re the one who looks stupid causing a scene in the middle of the parking lot when there doesn’t need to be one. I’m sorry, okay. How many times can I say I’m sorry? I got pissed, I got scared, I went a little bat shit crazy and I brought up crap that doesn’t need to be brought up
ever
again. But then I came to my senses and got the hell over it because I’m a damn grown up and I realize that people make mistakes and then they grow and then they change and if they are able to do that it means they’re good. It means they have the ability to evolve. It means they can appreciate what they have because they’ve been on the other side and they regret it and they don’t want to go back there. And when it’s all said and done, they’re better. In the end they’re better than the people who have no regrets and no reason to fight for what they have. So get in the damn truck. I want to go see your pain in the ass dad.”

God damn her, I don’t deserve those words. I don’t deserve any of this. I don’t deserve her. But I give up, close the door then take her to see my pain in the ass dad.

I’m annoyed and I know I shouldn’t be. But this is just crazy. Nash took my words way too seriously. He knows how my minds works, he knows how I can’t stop spewing everything in my head when I’m around him, even the things I’m just considering and don’t actually believe yet.

He’s been moping around all night, barely ate any dinner and won’t hardly look at me, much less talk to me. And I realize now, it’s not because he’s mad at me, it’s because he’s mad at himself because of what I said to him. Because of his past.

He and Nate just went out to the pole barn to do something with one of their cars so I sit down in Nate’s chair and let out a long breath.

“I feel you girlie. He’s high maintenance. Your texts were all willy- nilly – you have a talent for not answering my questions, you know that? But you’re stuck here with me now so tell me what the hell is wrong with him this time?”

“Ugh,” I mutter. “I so don’t want to tell you. It’s my fault, really.”

“What? You’re an angel, Presley. It’s definitely not your fault.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Please. I guess I know where Nash got his bullshitting skills from. Actually, that’s part of the problem.”

“Did he make you promises he’s not keeping? Because if he did, I’ll kick his ass… just as soon as I’m able.”

“No. Of course not. He’s always done what he’s said he was gonna do. With me at least. But, you know Jolee, right?”

He cranks his neck, then rubs out the pain. I scoot to the edge of the chair and look back at him so he doesn’t have to turn himself to see me. “Is that the girl he took out last week? The one Nate keeps complaining about?”

I let out a laugh of disbelief and shake my head at him. “No, Nick. That was Hannah. Jolee is my cousin that I’m living with and also the girl Nash used to sleep with on a regular basis… the girl he cheated on Tatum with?”

“Okay,” he says like he has no idea who I’m talking about and I’m liking this consistent difference between me and all the other girls in Nash’s life – they don’t know his family, and his family doesn’t know them.

“Okay,” I reiterate, “well I live with her, like our rooms are connected by a bathroom. And she’s freakily obsessed with your son and apparently, in the past, she’s the one he turned to when things were rough to… alleviate his stress… or whatever and she was on the phone talking, in great detail, about him last night and it just freaked me out which is understandable, right? I mean he kissed me for the first time last night and I was still running off the euphoric fumes thinking life was all honkey dory and then I go to my room,
my room…
and boom… suddenly I’m listening to a conversation about what great
skills
the boy that I’m falling in love with has exercised on
my cousin.
So, I mean, sue me for being weirded out about the whole thing or whatever but I intentionally ignored Nash’s texts and calls last night and this morning because I knew I was mad for no reason and I knew I would spew everything inside my brain… kind of like I’m doing now… because I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut around anyone with the last name of Carter. But Nash made me talk about it because I’m stuck next to him in photography class, so I did but once I started I literally could not stop so I went on and on about the things he’s done and how he lied to Tatum and how she was trying to convince me he was the greatest guy in the world when
I
knew that he had cheated on her several times and how I never wanted to be that girl. Which, I know I’m not and I know Nash isn’t the guy who slept with Jolee or cheated on Tatum, but I couldn’t stop myself from dumping all my insecurities on him and now he apparently believes all the things I said and he feels guilty and he won’t talk to me or look at me.” I let out a long breath, suck in another one and release it again, feeling light headed.

Nick is smiling at me, his eyes all sparkly. “Have I told you how much I like you?’

“No. And please don’t. I get enough undeserved and totally blown out of proportion compliments from your son.”

“Well then I’ll just say that it’s not easy trying to be a mother and a father and I know that I’m not doing my job covering for both. I’ve always known that. But I could never figure what, exactly, my boys needed that I couldn’t provide. But one day a little lady walked into our lives and she showed me. Tender hearted, sensitive, physically needy Nash needed someone to take care of and someone who would require that he become a better man before he received any of the physical rewards that feed his soul. And Nate needed someone to put him in his place, which he’s had several times, but most women just tell him what’s wrong, the don’t take the time to help him fix it and that’s what he needs. And me, I’m pretty simple, I just want a companion, someone who makes me smile when they walk in the door and entertains me while they’re here. I just want someone to brighten my day, something to look forward to. It’s hard to find a woman who can fulfill all those requests, but we did find her. I don’t want to put any pressure on you but between the three of us we’ve had plenty of women in our lives over the years, but none have fit quite like you do.”

I’m on the brink of tears. “Seriously, what kind of gene do you carry that is capable of spewing out all those words that are just… perfect? Have you checked into your genealogy? Gone on ansestory.com or anything? Because I bet you’re related to Sylvia Plath or some other great poet.”

“We just tell it like it is, Presley. Which, by the way, offends most people. But not you. You’re one of us.”

“I hope you already know this and I’m not gonna even attempt to put it into words because it will just sound stupid compared to yours, but all that stuff you just said… I don’t have a man that’s part of my family right now either. And I don’t really feel like I have a home. But when I’m here, with the three of you, I kind of forget that those things are missing. It kind of feels like they aren’t missing at all.”

He stares at me, a slight shake to his head. Then he smiles and says, “Let’s not get all touchy feely. I mean, as a family, that’s not who we are.”

“I don’t know. I’ve been more emotional than ever hanging around the three of you. I think, as a family, we might be a sappy bunch of crybabies.”

He lifts a hand like he’s trying to reach out for me, but the stiffness in his back, neck and arm won’t let him, so I reach out and grab a hold of his hand. “You understand why Nash used to act the way he did, right?”

I stare into his eyes and they’re full of sadness. He has regrets about Nash’s past just like Nash does.

“I don’t know. He said he didn’t care and he didn’t respect anyone, that… he couldn’t have seen me coming. But if he had he wouldn’t have done the things he did.”

“Well that’s true – I mean the part about you. And I suppose he didn’t care about the fact that he was hurting himself and the girls he was messing around with. But he was raised in a house where females, especially the ones you loved, were enemies and could hurt you more than anything else. I’m not proud to admit that I raised my boys to have the upper hand and to be in control. To not fall in love. I regret it. It wasn’t fair to them or the girls they could have potentially loved. But I never wanted them to feel their hearts breaking the way mine did. I didn’t want them raising children that felt like they weren’t good enough for their mamas to keep. Really, the way Nash’s behaved is my fault. All he’s ever wanted was true, constant love and I raised him to believe no such thing existed. I’m the one who forced him to believe a woman could never really love him and that all he could do was try to get the women in his life to obey him. I was wrong and I’m sorry but I can’t regret it because it necessitated you coming along to show him differently. You’re the one who made him see that relationships should be a partnership that only make each other better. I don’t know if he would have waited for you if I hadn’t gotten my heart broken… if I hadn’t watched my boys get their hearts broke. He needed the right kind of healing, and I believe you’re it. I believe you’re what he’s been waiting for.”

I’m crying now. I’m not even trying to stop the tears from running down my face. “What do I do… to convince him that all I see in him is good? That the words I said to him were just thoughts and not how I feel?”

“Tell him. And, don’t take this the wrong way, but he’s always needed physical affection – not the kind he’s gotten in the past- but he needs the security of feeling someone is with him. So don’t be afraid to hold his hand or wrap your arms around him.”

“Okay. I’ll do my best,” I tell Nick, standing up and taking a deep breath. “Wish me luck.”

He laughs, “I’m pretty sure you won’t need it.”

I smile at him then turn and go, feeling emotional and apprehensive and unprepared. When I open the door to the pole barn I hear Nate say, “Thank god,” before turning and walking out the back door.

I walk to Nash who is leaned up against one of the work benches, his head bowed. I take Nicks advice and put my hand on him: under his chin, lifting it so his eyes are tilted towards mine but he’s still staring at the ground. “Hey,” I whisper. “What do I have to do to get you to look at me?”

He glances at me then tells me, “You don’t have to keep doing this. You don’t have to feel bad about pointing out the truth to me. You can go… I understand.”

“Jesus Nash, I legitimately want to slap some sense into you right now, but you look so damn pathetic I can’t get myself to do it. But you have to knock this shit off. I don’t know what else to say to you. I had a moment. It’s over. I know who you are. I love who you are. And I just want to move on.

“You’re punishing me for being insecure. You realize that, don’t you? And isn’t one of our goals, as a couple, to make me less insecure so that one day, hopefully soon, I’ll let you put your hands and mouth on my body… and be able to enjoy it. Aren’t we trying to get past my crap so that I can finally know what it feels like to have a physical relationship with a guy? With you? How am I gonna get past my insecurities so that I can know what it feels like to have you if you’re going to punish the shit out of me every time one of them is unleashed?

“It was you who was telling me, just days ago, that if I shared all the messed up shit in my life it would only make people love me more, right? So show me, Nash. Accept that I have insecurities and phobias and an active imagination. Show me that I can share everything with you and you will still like me despite my flaws. Show me what that feels like.”

He finally looks at me and I almost wish he wouldn’t have. I’ve never seen the kind of tortured pain that I’m faced with now. Not even on that road after Nick’s accident. “Why are you saying this shit to me? Why are you asking me to give you things that I shouldn’t be allowed to give you? Why the hell would you forgive me? How the hell do you still want me?”

“Nash,” I whisper, wrapping both of my hands around his jaw. “That third time… when I agreed to start over and forget everything in the past… I meant it. The first and second time I didn’t. But that last time I really truly did.” His hand finally touches me, grasping onto my hips and it’s such a relief.

“So kiss me. Kiss me like the guy I know you are – the one who’s starting over with me. And let me start over with you. Let me be your first and be my first too. Show me how I’m supposed to be treated, show me how it feels to be adored, be the guy you’ve been to me because ever since that first time when we made our fresh start, you’ve been so good to me. And I can’t imagine it, but I know you’re going to be so much more.” His hands move up my body slowly; hesitantly, eventually resting on my shoulder blades.

“I want to start,” I tell him.

His hands shift over my shoulders, up my neck and tangle in my hair. “Don’t freak out when I say this to you Presley… I know it’s sudden and I know when I’ve said it in the past  you thought I was fucking around… but I’m so serious when I say I am completely, totally, overwhelmingly all-consumingly in love with you. I know I don’t deserve you, I don’t know why you’re here with your hands on me, I want to believe your words… I know I don’t deserve them, but I’m gonna choose to believe them. Because I love you. And I want your love. And I’m going to do more than anyone’s ever done to prove that I’m worth it.”

His eyes are glued to me now and have me in some kind of trance.

“Presley I...”

I press my finger into his lips. “Stop, Nash. I can’t take any more words tonight. Unless what you’re going to say is that you don’t want me, I don’t need to hear it. If it’s anything else, please just kiss me. Nothing will make me feel better than that.”