Keep From Falling (Markson Grove Series Book 1) (25 page)

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Authors: Amy Vanessa Miller

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BOOK: Keep From Falling (Markson Grove Series Book 1)
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“Ok,
just friend,”
he counters, putting emphasis on the words ‘just’ and ‘friend’. “How have you been since we last spoke?”

I arch my eyebrow. “You mean since you kissed me, and told me that my girlfriend is cheating on me, and that you are in love with me?”

He grins, attempting to keep the mood light in spite of my desperate attempt not to. “We’ve texted at least three times since that day,” he points out with a wink.

I roll my eyes, giving him a playful shove. “I’m fine.”

“I have to say, though,” he continues, his face growing serious, “I was pretty surprised when I went to your place today and found out that you were here.” His tone is still light, but I can tell he’s upset. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I shrug. “You didn’t ask.”

“I didn’t think I needed to. What’s going on?”

I sigh, “Bree’s my best friend, and I love her more than I can even put into words so that you can really understand it because she’s not just my girlfriend, she’s also my family. I can’t walk away from what I have with her. This house, it’s mine too. And her mom and dad, they are the only mom and dad I’ve ever really known, ok? You make it out to be like it’s so simple, like she’s cheating so therefore it’s over. It can’t be over. If I end this with her, there’s no staying friends, I will lose
everything.

He contemplates my words for a long while and I can tell he’s trying hard to understand my predicament. I appreciate the effort, I really do. I know that he’s in love with me. And I also know, though I can never admit it to him, that a part of me is in love with him back.

“You won’t lose
me
,” he says finally with his head hanging low. His eyes look up at me vulnerably, and my heart aches. His kindness is too much. I don’t deserve how much he wants me.

“Why do you love me?”

The question catches him off guard. “What do you mean?” he asks, dumbfounded as if he’s already told me the answer to this question a million times before and he can’t believe that I’m even asking it.

“Why do you love me even though I can’t love you back? I mean, I pushed you away for the first six months that I knew you. I was mean to you. I knew how much you cared about me and I kept fucking all of those guys for drugs anyway, right there in front of you. And then, to add insult to injury, I finally did give in to you, only to run off at the first sign of trouble. I didn’t even give you a chance to explain. Instead I just stumbled my way into a new relationship with my best friend. And now here you are again, just being everything I need you to be, and I can’t give you anything back. I want to know why because I think you deserve so much better than that.”

“You don’t think you can give me anything back?” he asks, countering my long-winded question with a simple and straightforward one. His eyes look hopeful and I wish that they wouldn’t.

“I don’t know. I just want to know why you don’t demand it from me; why you don’t demand it from anyone?”

He shrugs, “I guess I don’t feel like I deserve anything more than that.”

I glance at him, dejected by his words. It makes me feel horrible knowing that what I’ve given him is all he thinks he deserves in a relationship. I’ve never met a more kind, selfless, and loving person than him.
I’m
the one who doesn’t deserve
him
. He could be with somebody worthy, but instead, he can’t keep away from the likes of my fucked-up self.

“You think you don’t deserve me,” he says pointedly, knowing, as usual, exactly what it is I’m thinking. “You think you’re too fucked up, too damaged, but you’re not. I’m just as fucked as you. I can’t keep my shit together. I’m pissed off all the time. Every part of my being has been numb since the day my mom died. I don’t care about anything, and I hurt people. But I love you. I love everything about you. I love that you are just as fucked up as me and that we get each other in a way that no one else can.”

I take a sharp breath, holding it in for a moment before exhaling. My heart is pounding in my chest. I don’t know what to say. I can’t be what he needs, not if I want to keep Bree. But for the first time since he’s walked back into my life, I wish things were different. I wish I could love him back.

I pull my bottom lip between my teeth nervously as I attempt to come up with a reply. He’s rendered me speechless. Instead of struggling for the words, I take his hand into mine and bring his palm to my mouth, kissing it ever so softly.

He sighs and slowly moves his hand up to my face, running the back of his fingers over my cheeks, then down around my neck, and then back up to my lips where I kiss each finger individually before I lift my eyes to look into his.

He gazes into my eyes, asking for permission to kiss me. I know the look well. I lean in an inch, allowing my eyes to close. I want to give him this; I want to show him that I do love him, but I just can’t put it into words for him to hear. Too much has happened that can’t be erased.

Kissing me softly and deliberately, he pushes his body right to mine, wrapping one arm around the small of my back, as his other hand searches for mine and holds onto it. He puts every emotion of every word he just said to me into this beautiful kiss. His need for me to want him, to need him in the same way he needs me, is made so incredibly clear in this kiss that I tremble from the intensity of it.

When I move my lips away, gently ending the kiss, he brings my hand to his lips, kissing it softly, mimicking the exact same kisses I gave to him.

“I can’t lose her,” I say finally, voicing the inevitable. He knew it was coming as much as I knew that I needed to say it.

“I know,” he says, defeated, his gaze falling from me to the water flowing below us.

I want to cry. Never in a million years would I have thought I’d be in this place right now, torn between two worlds and two loves and never being able to make it right because no matter which way I go, I’ll lose someone that means something.

“Just friends then?” I ask in a hesitant whisper, our bodies still pushed close, our hands still entwined.

He nods, leaning in to my forehead and planting a soft and loving kiss. “You won’t lose me,” he assures me instead. And I can’t help but think it again… I really don’t deserve him.

 

 

Bree

 

“Are you ok?” Evan asks as he holds the passenger door of his car open for me that evening after work.

I climb into the passenger seat and nod. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I say quietly.

He closes the door and makes his way around to the driver’s side. Once he climbs in front of the wheel, he looks at me uncertainly, “Are you sure?”

I force a smile, “I’m just really worried about tonight.”

“Yeah, I know,” he sighs. “But you know it’s better that she hears it from you than from Spencer, right?”

“Doesn’t change the fact that everything will change after tonight. You don’t go back to being friends after a breakup like this. No one does.”

He grimaces. I can tell that he’s feeling uneasy about all of this and, to be honest, I don’t blame him. How do you comfort your girlfriend who’s sad about having to breakup with
her
girlfriend? It’s just a really messed up situation for everyone involved.

We drive to my place in complete silence and once he arrives in front of the house, he shuts off the engine and turns in his seat to face me. “Are you going to be ok?” he asks, reaching his hand to my cheek.

I place my hand on top of his and hold it there. There is no answer that I can give him that isn’t a lie and I’m sick of lying. I don’t think I’m going to be ok. Nothing about any of this is ok.

He wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me in closely. I sigh contently, breathing in his scent, allowing his embrace to take me away from all of this, even if only for a moment.

“I don’t understand why you’re still with me,” I say quietly.

He reaches for my chin, tilting it upward with his index finger till my eyes meet his. “Because I want to be.”

I push my mouth to his till our lips just barely meet, letting them linger on his softly. I can tell he wants to kiss me, like, really kiss me. He licks his lips, regarding me intently.

“I wish I could kiss you right now,” he says, pushing his body even closer to mine.

“Me too,” I say. My breathing is getting heavy and I can’t deny how much I wish we weren’t in front of my house at this very moment. What we are doing is already way too dangerous. What if Skylar sees us? She will definitely find out tonight, that’s a given, but it shouldn’t be like this.

I move my lips away from his and let out a loud sigh. “But we can’t,” I say, laying my head on his shoulder. I run my fingers over his chest playfully, and he smiles, kissing the top of my head.

“After you are done with Skylar… I mean,” He shakes his head and groans, immediately regretting his choice of words. “God, I’m so sorry, Bree, that was insensitive.”

“No, it’s ok,” I say, reassuring him with a small kiss on the cheek. “I’ll text you later.

He pulls his arm out from around my shoulders, “I better go.”

“Yeah,” I say as I reach for the door handle, but before I open the door my face drops. We aren’t alone in my front yard. My mom is walking toward the car motioning for me to roll down the window.

“Oh my God,” I groan, completely mortified. I push the door open and quickly get out of the car.

“Who’s your friend, Bree?” Mom asks, looking beyond me. She smiles and waves at Evan. Evan gives her a shy wave in return. This can’t be happening. He rolls down the window.

“This is Evan,” I say with a sigh. “Evan, this is my mom.”

“Nice to meet you, Evan,” she says with the hugest smile imaginable. Could she be any more obvious?

“Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Porter,” he replies politely.

“So you must be the boy who’s been making Bree full of smiles for the last few weeks.”

“Mom!” I exclaim.

Evan chuckles, but he doesn’t let on about the details of our relationship, instead he tells mom that he and I simply work together.

“Oh, I see. Well, you should join us for supper, Evan. Lord knows I always make way too much, right Bree.”

“Mom I don’t think,” I begin, but Evan beats me to it.

“Thank you very much, Mrs. Porter, but my mother’s expecting me home.”

“Call her,” she says, clearly not taking no for an answer on this one.

This is bad. Very bad
.

He hesitates, looks over at me uncomfortably and then back to my mom. “I don’t think it’s a good time,” he says finally.

“Don’t be silly,” Mom replies. “There’s never a bad time to eat.”

I sigh. She’s not going to let up. This is pointless and I can tell that Evan sees that.

“I suppose,” he says, looking at me for help but all I can do is shake my head at him apologetically. What am I supposed to do, tackle my mom to the ground and force her to go away?

“Where’s Skylar?” I ask, looking toward the house expectantly. I really hope she isn’t home. What a disaster this is.

“She left about an hour ago; said she’d call you later.” I see Evan’s entire demeanor relax and I’m not going to lie, I’m relieved too. I know that my mom won’t let up on this. She saw how we were in the car a few moments before and she won’t be leaving this alone until she gets a chance to get to know the boy her daughter is eying.

“Ok,” I say, giving Evan and my mother a quick nod. “I guess it would be all right for him to join us.”

Mom smiles. “Great!” she exclaims. She starts back to the house. “I’ll set an extra place at the table.”

As soon as she’s out of earshot, Evan jumps out of the car and rushes over to me. “What are you doing?” he asks in a state of panic. “She’ll know about us before Skylar does!”

He’s right. What am I thinking?

“What will she know before Skylar does?”

We both turn around at the sound of Skylar’s voice coming from directly behind us.

“Sky!” I gasp, instinctively taking a step away from Evan.

She doesn’t look at me at all. She’s glaring at Evan and it’s obvious that she’s pissed.

“So what is it that I need to know?” she says testing us, refusing to take her glaring eyes off of Evan.

He shoves his hands into his pockets but doesn’t take his eyes away from her glare. He’s countering her stare with one of his own, something he hasn’t done during a confrontation with her before. He’s feeling more confident about us now.

“Skylar,” I begin in a whisper, “this isn’t—”

“Save it,” she interrupts. “Don’t give me any of that crap about how this isn’t what it looks like. I know that this is exactly what it looks like and I’m sick of your lies.”

I take in a wavering breath. “I didn’t want you to find out this way,” I say in a small voice.

“I
didn’t
find out this way,” she replies matter-of-factly, taking her eyes off of Evan and giving me a once over. She’s not crying; she’s not breaking down in any way. She’s holding herself together so strongly that it makes me confused. In all the possible scenarios of her finding out about Evan and me, this was not a reaction I’d anticipated at all.

And that’s when her words finally sink in.

“You already know,” I say.

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