Against the Wall (27 page)

O
NE MONTH LATER

We have double ceremonies one sunny weekend in June.

Graduation ceremonies, that is.

On Saturday I walk down the aisle with a special gold banner to indicate my award. Magna cum laude, baby. It feels pretty damned good to hold my diploma in my hand and throw my hat in the air. I got accepted to the master's program, which starts in the fall. I'm still not one hundred percent sure of myself, but who is? Maybe by the time I actually look for a job in the psychology field, I'll feel confident.

Maybe not.

Maybe confidence is more of an aspirational goal than a realistic one. I don't know. I'm trying to enjoy the moment and not worry too much about the future.

The next day is Eric's graduation from the group therapy program. He completed the required community service hours and attended every session. I sit in the audience, teary-eyed, while he gets a signed certificate.

I'm so proud of him. He's wearing a crisp white shirt with a tie he borrowed from Noah. He stands up tall on the stage. When the ceremony is over, he seeks me out in the crowd and hugs me. My high heels make our heights match almost exactly. He twirls me around and sets me down, smiling. Then he hugs April and Jenny.

We have a party at Noah's house to celebrate both achievements. It's mostly family and a few friends. Kelsea is there with Matthew. She's fully recovered from the accident, brimming with nonstop energy again. They haven't found the stalker yet, and I'm starting to doubt they ever will. Kelsea says she's moved on, but she hasn't moved out of her dad's house. She hugs me and kisses Eric on the cheek, ruffling his hair.

My parents drove all the way from Cedar Glen to attend my graduation ceremony. They stayed in the den last night while I slept on the couch. I hadn't seen them since Christmas, and I'm glad they came. I was nervous about introducing them to Eric, though. We went out to dinner together and I told them he was my boyfriend. My mom reacted with a mild sort of surprise but didn't seem horrified. My dad asked Eric if he was a religious man. Eric said yes, showing him the cross he always wears. They shook hands at the end of the evening. No one interrogated him about his criminal record.

It was…cordial.

The party isn't as stilted as I thought it would be. My mom adores April and Jenny, so that helps. She brought a bunch of presents for the baby, and she can't wait to be a grandmother. Maybe she'll be softer and more affectionate in that role. It seems like an easier relationship, less fraught with conflict.

When the party's over, I say goodbye to my parents at the door. Noah walks them out to the driveway while I stay behind with Eric.

“What do you think?” he asks me.

“I think they actually liked you.”

“I can't believe it.”

“I can,” I say, twining my arms around his neck. “You're handsome and polite. People always like you. Plus, you're a nice Catholic boy. You can save me from going to hell.”

“They did seem impressed by my cross.”

I finger the silver chain. “Your good luck charm.”

Noah comes back inside, interrupting the kiss Eric's about to give me. My brother hasn't exactly put his stamp of approval on our relationship. The other day he caught us making out in my room. Eric's shirt was off and he was on top of me, but we weren't, like, doing it. We were just
almost
doing it.

I'm not allowed to have Eric stay overnight—which is fine. We usually go to his trailer, anyway. The kitchen is functional now and the plumbing is hooked up. It's more private. The whole junkyard is pretty much our personal playground after dark. We've christened some of the cars and machinery.

Shh. Don't tell anyone.

Things between us have been good. Really good. And not just in bed. We were at a crossroads before the incident at Brown Field. What happened with Junior pushed us both over the edge. I understand now that Junior was trying to help Eric, not necessarily hurt me, but I still think he's a little unhinged. He took a huge risk and put me in serious danger.

Eric hasn't been the same since that day. It's like something snapped inside him. He stopped holding back his emotions. He told me he loved me, and he hasn't wavered. We're totally committed to each other.

I'll be working at The Hop for the rest of the summer. Eric's still at Fine Ink. He got his body art practitioner's certificate but he hasn't started doing tattoos yet. Matthew said he has to wait until there's an opening. In the meantime Eric's been looking at art programs and putting in long hours at the junkyard, learning all the ropes. He drives the tow truck for Scrappy and runs the compactor now. It's very manly.

He scraped up enough money to buy an old motorcycle two weeks ago. We found a leather jacket, boots, and a used helmet at a thrift shop. I begged him not to drive too fast or do any daredevil tricks. He promised easily, seeming amused by my concern. I think he'll always enjoy danger and pushing the limits. At least this is legal.

“I bought you a graduation present,” he says.

“You did? I didn't get you anything.”

He shrugs, going out to his bike to retrieve the box. I unwrap it with glee, ripping off the bow and tearing the paper.

It's a motorcycle helmet. Brand-new.

“I thought we could go for a ride,” he says.

“You know I'm scared.”

“I'll stay on the back roads and take it slow.”

Last weekend he cruised me around the junkyard while I clung to him for dear life, my eyes closed tight. I didn't feel safe in my skirt and flip-flops, hair blowing in the wind. He was wearing only his boxer shorts and motorcycle boots, so that was pretty crazy. Maybe if we're both in proper gear, I can relax.

“I'll give you my jacket for extra protection,” he says. “Or not. If you don't want to, there are other fun things to do.”

I smile at his suggestive tone. “Like what?”

“I could work on my painting.”

He's got this wild idea to paint me in the nude in the junkyard, striking a hitchhiker pose. I agreed to let him, but we can do that anytime. He went to the trouble of buying me a helmet, so I decide to give it a whirl. I change into jeans and boots, donning his jacket. Then I hop on the back of his bike and put my arms around his lean waist.

He goes slow, as promised. My fear starts to fade after a few minutes and I find myself enjoying the ride. I expect him to drive to the junkyard, but he passes that street and continues south, to Border Field State Park. We travel down a long dirt road until we reach the gate. Eric pays a day-use fee even though the park will close in an hour.

We leave our helmets with his motorcycle and stroll down the near-deserted beach. It's beautiful, if you don't mind towers with armed guards. There are signs posted to prohibit swimming, and you can't get anywhere near the fence. On the other side, it's truly another world. Children are splashing in the waves, carefree.

“Do you think everything will be okay?” I ask.

“We'll be okay,” he says, putting his arm around me. “I don't know about anyone else.”

I study the place where the fence meets the ocean, contemplative. It's sort of majestic and harsh at the same time, beyond my understanding. Bigger than us.

“I should paint this.”

“You should.”

“After I paint you.”

“I love you,” I say, hugging him again.

“I love you, too.”

And then he kisses me the way I wanted him to earlier. With tongue, deep and hot. With heart and passion and life. With hope for the future.

With love, forever.

To the readers who kept asking for Eric and Meghan—thank you.

Crash Into Me

Set the Dark on Fire

The Edge of Night

Caught in the Act

Against the Wall
(ebook)

J
ILL
S
ORENSON
is the RITA-nominated author of more than a dozen romantic suspense novels. She has a degree in Literature and Writing from California State University. Her books have been selected as Red-Hot Reads by
Cosmopolitan
magazine, and have received starred reviews from
Publishers Weekly, Booklist,
and
Library Journal
. Jill currently lives in the San Diego area with her family. She's a soccer mom who loves nature, coffee, reading, Twitter, and reality TV.

jillsorenson.com

@JillSorenson

Find Jill Sorenson on
Facebook

It's another cold month of winter, but never fear, we have a few special somethings to warm your heart.

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Romance yourself this month with Loveswept—you know you want to.

~Happy Romance!

Gina Wachtel

Associate Publisher