Captured Love (2 page)

A long, shaky sigh escaped my lips.

Would I regret it later?

Of course, my grandma was right. I would regret not going, but I wasn’t sure I could say yes just yet.

“I’m not sure I want to see him,” I blurted before I could stop myself.

Grandma gasped. “Jessica Grace Hayes!

No matter what happened in the past, he’s your father and he’s dying. That should be enough to make you pack and leave.” I cringed. Deep down, I knew she was right, but it wasn’t easy. My feelings toward Papa were too repressed, and the words wouldn’t come out. “I need to think. There is still seven weeks before my classes end. Even if I decide to go, I am finishing the semester first.”

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With a heavy sigh, my grandma patted my hand. “I’m sure you’ll choose the right path.”

Chapter Two

Jessica

After I turned in my Design Studio project in the architecture building, I waited for Gavin outside the science department building. He was taking his last final exam of the semester and should be out soon.

Seated at one of the benches outside the building, I hugged my books and bit the inside of my cheek, dreading this conversation.

Though he had asked many times over the last two months, I hadn’t told him why my grandma had called me and asked me to come home that day. He didn’t even know it was my grandma who called. He just knew I was needed at home.

A sliver of guilt spread through my chest. Gavin had been so good to me, and I treated him like crap. I didn’t mean to. I just couldn’t help it. I wasn’t ready to be in a 25/504

serious relationship. I wasn’t ready to give in, to trust, to open up. Sometimes I thought I would never be.

Someone sat down beside me. “Hey, girl.”

I smiled. “Hey, Kristin.”

She bumped her elbow on mine. “Are you ready?”

“For what? Breaking up with Gavin for good, or going back to South Carolina?”

“Both.”

“Well, I’m not ready for either.” She put her arm around my shoulders.

“One, you’ve been practically playing with Gavin for almost ten months. He deserves to be let go.” I knew she was right. Still, it was hard. Even though I didn’t want a boyfriend, it was good to have someone. He satisfied me, and I satisfied him. What else did a guy in college need? “Two, your grandma is right.

You’ll regret it if you don’t go. So stop being 26/504

worried about it. You’re making the right decision.”

I nodded. “What about you? Ready for your summer internship?”

She groaned. “Ugh. Yes and no. I mean, the internship sounds great, but it’s in my hometown. I can’t imagine staying three months with my parents and my little sister.”

“At least you get along with your parents.”

“Maybe you will now too. Think of this as a second chance.”

“I don’t need a second chance,” I snapped. She took her arm from around me.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh.”

“I know. And I also know you technic-ally didn’t do anything wrong, but this might be a second chance for you to forgive them.” I sighed. Even if she was right, it wouldn’t be easy to forgive. Three months seemed too little time to right all the wrongs in our past.

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“We’ll see,” I muttered.

“Here comes the man.” She hugged me.

“Try to relax and enjoy your time home. And call me, okay?”

I hugged her back. “I will. And you too.

Kick some ass at your internship.”

“I will.” She disentangled herself from me, waved to Gavin as he approached us, stood, and then walked away.

Gavin sat down in Kristin’s empty spot.

“Hi, babe.” He kissed my cheek.

I tried not to flinch. “Hi.”

His smile was wide and bright. “What a surprise seeing you here. I could get used to this.”

“Gavin, we need to talk.”

The smile slipped from his face. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

I looked around. Students walked in and out of the building, not paying any attention. Still, I didn’t want anyone hearing us.

“I’m going home for the summer.” 28/504

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I’m from Lexington, South Carolina.

My parents and my brother still live there.”

“But … your house here?”

“It’s my grandma’s. She lives here, always has. I moved in with her almost four years ago.”

“Why?”

“That’s not important.” I paused, searching for the right words. “I’ll be gone all summer and I don’t want to hold you back.

It’s not fair.”

“Wait. Are … no. Are you breaking up with me?”

“Gavin, we hooked up on the weekends.

Do you really think that was a real relationship?”

“Yes!” He raised his voice, drawing the attention of students walking by. He cleared his throat and continued in his normal voice.

“You know I always wanted more. I wanted a 29/504

real, serious relationship. You’re the one who didn’t.”

“I don’t know what to say besides I’m sorry.”

He held my hand in his. “Be my girlfriend. My real girlfriend. Come to my house tonight. Have dinner with me and my family.”

As gently as I could, I pulled my hand back. “I’m leaving Sunday morning for Lexington and I’ll be gone for three months. I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything, that we are a thing. So, just to make it clear, you can date other girls, okay?”

“No, it’s not okay.” He ran a hand through his hair. “We can make this work, babe. Give me a chance. I want to woo you. I know I can.”

“Even if you can, Gavin, I’ll be gone for three months. That’s not fair.”

“I can come visit you. Often. I promise.” 30/504

I shook my head. “Please, Gavin, don’t do this.”

“No, you don’t do this. I really like you, babe. Please, don’t break up with me.” His eyes filled with moisture, and I honestly panicked. I didn’t know how to react to that. It made me a bitch, but I had to end this right now.

I stood. “Have fun this summer, Gavin.

Goodbye.”

Each time he called my name, I hurried my steps, getting farther and farther away from him. My eyes stung with unshed tears. I really was a bitch and I didn’t know how to fix that.

***

I stopped shoving my pants back on when the girl in the bed moved. I even 31/504

stopped breathing, lest she wake up and see me there.

What would I say to her? “Hi, hmm, yeah, I don’t remember your name, or how I ended up in your dorm room.” No, that wouldn’t be nice. Not that I ever tried being nice. Actually, girls loved when I was bad.

Nice did no good for Ryan Dawson’s reputation.

The girl went back to snoring, wrapped only in her flimsy pink sheet.

I put my T-shirt on and leaned closer.

The girl was pretty, but the fact that my head throbbed and I didn’t remember anything about the night told me she was so boring, I had to drink my way to her bed. Not good.

I looked around. The dorm was simple but with too much pink stuff. Pink pillows, pink notebooks, pink lamp, pink rug, pink slippers. On her desk, beside her pink wallet, I found a bill from one of the bars on Gervais Street, three blocks from the girl’s dorm.

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Those bars were packed with college students during weekends, packed with girls, most of them easy, which made my life easier. Some days I loved the chase, the hunt, the expectation. Of course, after sleeping with a girl once, I barely ever spoke to her again.

But there were days when I just wanted to get in and get out, as simple as that. I loved college girls because they didn’t stay for long.

Four years tops. My reputation wouldn’t ever get blemished.

I left the dorm and headed toward Park Street, where I had left my car.

I glanced at my wristwatch. It was already eleven in the morning. I sighed, already playing in my head the pep talk my father would commence with if I were late to his company’s annual summer barbecue. It was always the same thing. More responsib-ility, more studying, less drinking, less playing, less fooling around.

Like I cared.

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I found my black Mustang on Senate Street. Really, how long had I been drinking the previous night?

Before starting the car and driving toward Lexington, I fumbled through the glove compartment and the dashboard, but all the ibuprofen was gone, it seemed. The throbbing in my head would be my companion until I got home.

Halfway down Highway One, my cell phone rang.

I groaned, suspecting it was my father inquiring about my whereabouts.

“Yeah?” I answered without looking at the screen. Damn, my voice didn’t disguise my hangover.

“Ryan, it’s me,” Luke answered.

I let out a relieved breath. “Hey, man.

Tell me, did you stay at the bar until after I was gone?”

“No. I left when you started to woo a blond girl. Why?”

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“Nothing. Just wondering if I did anything stupid.”

Luke’s amused chuckle rang clear through the line. “Everything you do is stupid.”

“If you called just to kid, then call me later. My head hurts too much right now.” The chuckle died on the other side. “I have something to tell you.”

“Shoot,” I said, not too interested. Luke and his cousin, Jason, had been my best friends since we were little kids, and Luke always had stuff to tell.

“I’m at my aunt’s house, you know, for Saturday family lunch.”

I stiffened, gripping the wheel with too much force. “Yes.”

What had he called for? To tell me old Paul had finally died? I would be happy if he did. I hated the man.

“Jessica is coming back.”

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I buried my foot on the break. The tires screeched loudly and horns honked behind me. I had stopped the car in the middle of the road and almost caused an accident, but I didn’t care.

“What?”

“Aunt Corinne convinced her to come back. At least for a few days. Sorry, man, I thought you would like to know.” I man-euvered my car out of the road and into the driveway of a store, where I could catch my breath and process the info. “Ryan? Are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Are you okay?”

I cleared my throat, pushing the painful lump down. “Yeah. I’m okay. When is she coming?”

“Tomorrow. She’ll be here tomorrow.”

“And Jason? Is he coming home too?”

“Yes. He arrives next weekend, I think.” Luke waited a few seconds. When I didn’t say 36/504

anything else, he asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, man.” I forced a chuckle, even though my chest hurt. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“No problem. Uh, if you need to talk about it, you know where to find me.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

I turned off the phone and bumped my forehead on the wheel.

All right, Jessica was coming back. I could deal with it.

All I had to do was stay away from her.

Stay the hell away from wherever she would be. It couldn’t be that difficult, could it?

Chapter Three

Jessica

The flight was only three hours long, though it could have been thirty. I wouldn’t have noticed the difference.

I tried reading my book again, but couldn’t finish the first sentence, even after ten or twenty tries. The only thing that seemed to pass the time was my pencil and my sketchpad. I let my mind wander and drew whatever it wanted.

After a few minutes, I realized the landscape taking place on the paper—the center of Lexington Main Square. A memory played inside my mind and my heart beat faster.

In the dark, I had snuck out after dinner and raced to the Main Square. From behind a tree, he stepped into the light of a
lamppost, taking my breath away.

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“You came,” he said, his usually rough
voice laced with a hint of pleasure.

“You asked me to.”

One corner of his lips turned up as he
marched to me, his eyes on mine. His presence, his power, his smile, the intensity of
his gaze—it was all too much for me. I could
have melted in a puddle at his feet. Before I
could visibly swoon, he halted half a foot
from me and cupped my cheek with his
warm hand. His gaze flickered to my lips
and I stopped breathing again.

When his lips brushed mine, I closed
my eyes and leaned against his strong
frame.

The sound of the seat belt sign turning on brought me back to the present. I let out a deep breath, a whispered curse, and wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. I blinked fast, willing my thoughts to push those memories back to the dark hole in the back of my mind where they had crawled off.

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It didn’t work.

The airplane started descending, and I gripped the arms of my chair, my breathing shallow. I wasn’t afraid of flying, never had been, but I was afraid of what I would find once the plane touched the ground and I was forced to leave it.

Who was I kidding? Why had I come? I wasn’t ready for this.

If I could, I would have yelled for the pi-lot to turn around and drop me back in Cleveland.

It was too late now.

I grabbed my pencil and sketchpad, picked up my purse from the overhead compartment, and marched to the baggage claim area with the other passengers. I breathed through my mouth as if it could slow my racing heart and avoid a nervous breakdown.

The wait for my luggage seemed even longer than the flight. I paced before the carousel, knowing that, if I looked through the 40/504

glass windows behind me, I would see my ride waiting for me. Jesus, why had I come?

Why?

The carousel started moving and I jumped back, startled, my hand flying over my heart. A few strangers glanced at me with wary eyes. Self-conscious, I straightened, cleared my throat, and smoothed my tank top.

I could do this. I could.

Closing my eyes for a quick second, I drew in a long, deep breath.

Nobody had forced me to come. It had been my decision. Not an easy one, not a quiet one, but, in the end, the last word had been mine. If anything happened, if it became too hard to endure it, too complicated, too emotional, I could leave. I could go back to my real home any time.