Kissing Her Crush (15 page)

Brandon’s gaze flicked to the front window, then away.

“I’m sure he’ll let you check it out if you want.”

“Stop mothering me,” Brandon muttered in a low voice while staring at the hardwood floor.

Natalie lifted both hands and backed up. “Okay,” she said. She was looking at the floor now, too. That relaxed, comfortable stance from earlier was gone. As she lifted her gaze to her brother’s lowered eyes, Luke caught the expression on her face. She looked completely broken.

It was right then that he figured it out. He looked at Brandon, his slumped posture and shielded body language, then he looked at Natalie looking at Brandon, the helplessness in her eyes.

No wonder she was obsessed with finding a new angle to ease teenage depression. Her own brother was suffering from it. Cement poured into Luke’s chest—he was the hugest asshead in Pennsylvania.

It was wrong and intrusive for him to have just shown up, determined to make Natalie hear him out just to reiterate his own opinions. Maybe Brandon was having a really bad day, so the family had retreated to the farm. Crap, he was such an asshead. Now was not the time to make some grand apology.

“Thank your mother again for the hot chocolate,” Luke said, totally in the way, and completely unwelcome. “See you at the lab.”

Natalie gave him a stiff nod, barely meeting his eyes. She looked embarrassed, which made him feel like an even bigger jerk. Depression wasn’t something you
caught
. It’s a disease, and nothing for any family to be embarrassed by. Knowing Natalie’s schooling and background, he was sure she knew that.

What she was embarrassed by was Luke knowing about it.

Asshead
.

“Nice to meet you, Brandon,” he said, not expecting the kid to reply. He was probably dying for Luke to get the hell out of there, too. Luke hesitated at the open door to give Natalie another look.

“Just go,” she mouthed. The combination of sadness and pleading in her eyes made Luke’s chest feel like a ten-ton semi was parked on it.

He sat behind the wheel of his Jeep for a few moments, gathering his thoughts before he hit the road. While reaching for his seatbelt, he glanced in the rearview mirror. Brandon was on the bottom step of the porch, looking his way.

I should just go,
he thought.
This is none of my business and Natalie doesn’t want me here.

“Hey,” Luke said, flat-out ignoring his own advice. “I think the engine needs water. Got a hose?”

“By the shed.” Brandon said.

The Jeep didn’t need water, but Brandon was showing an interest. From his own studies, Luke knew it was sometimes good to cater to that, if the interest wasn’t unsafe. He put the gear in reverse and circled back to the shed. Brandon didn’t say anything and kind of hung back while Luke lifted the hood and topped off the washer fluid.

As he was coiling up the hose to return it to the shed, he noticed Brandon gazing into the back of the Jeep.

“That your guitar?” the kid asked. “Do you play?”

Luke didn’t reply at first but noticed Natalie standing on the front porch, watching them. For some reason, Luke’s gut knew a lot was riding on what he would do next.

Chapter Thirteen

N
atalie felt a little paralyzed, unsure if she should call Muff inside or see what happened next. She hated that Luke was here, bearing witness to her personal life. His family was so perfect while hers belonged on an After School Special.

She couldn’t hear what he was saying to Muff, but hopefully he wasn’t machine-gunning him with questions, causing her brother to shut down even more than he already was.

For a second, it looked like Muff was gesturing at Luke’s guitar case in the backseat, but she was too far away to be sure. Her brother used to love music. Their parents had even bought him private guitar lessons for Christmas three years ago. He’d begged for them four months earlier, but by the time Christmas rolled around, he’d lost interest in everything he used to love. The big change had happened that fast.

Luke was pointing at something in his Jeep, then kicked a tire. Seriously, how dare he just show up at the farm like this? From the pitiable look he’d shot her right before he’d left the house, she knew that he knew the situation with Muff.

But she didn’t want his pity.

Maybe it should’ve been a relief that her secret was out, that Luke now knew she had a “personal agenda.” But…what if he included it in his report to the NIH? Would that help her cause, or somehow put her already-slim chances at risk?

She didn’t know enough about the political end of trials and patents to be sure.

“Morning, sweetie.” Her dad joined her on the front porch. He held a mug, his thinning hair was combed back, and he smelled like the same aftershave she’d given him every Father’s Day.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Did I hear Abram Yoder a while ago?” He took a sip of coffee. “He hardly ever comes inside the house.”

Natalie squinted into the sun. “That was Luke, a member of the research team.”

“Huh.” Dad noticed the Jeep by the shed and took a few steps that way. Then he stopped. “That’s your friend talking to Brandon?”

“Work colleague,” Natalie corrected, “but, yeah. He’s here to…uh…” She didn’t know how to finish because she still didn’t know why Luke was there. “We had a problem at the lab,” she continued, scrambling for a simple explanation. “But it’s all good now.”

“Well then.” Dad set his mug on the top porch railing. “I best introduce myself.”

“You don’t need to.” She reached for his arm to stop him, but he was already going down the steps. She didn’t follow him across the wide gravely driveway but stood in horror as her father approached Luke Elliott.

She still couldn’t hear what they were saying, but all at once, the three guys turned to look at her. She froze halfway down the second step, then treaded back up, losing both flip-flops. Luke lifted his hand and waved, looking completely at home. Her fingers gripped the railing but she let go and waved back politely. Luke kept his eyes her way for another moment, then leaned forward like he was trying to hear what Dad was saying. The two men laughed, and had Brandon
smiled
?

Needing to know what was going on, and exactly what Luke might be telling them, she launched down the rest of the stairs and onto the driveway in her bare feet, but Dad and Luke were already walking her way.

“I was just telling your father that I came here for some cider,” Luke said.

Nice save
.

“You know where it’s stored in the utility barn,” Dad said to her. “But I’m making a fresh batch today.”

“I’d love a fresh batch,” Luke said.

He might’ve been able to charm her mom with all his dashing hotness and smiles, but that wouldn’t work on her. “I’ll bring it to you at work on Monday,” she said, shooting him a subtle glance that she hoped he’d interpret correctly.

“I guess I can wait,” he replied, giving her an even subtler nod. At least the man wasn’t dense. “See you then.”

Natalie exhaled as Luke jingled his car keys in his hand and turned toward the Jeep. “Yeah, see ya.” She looked at her dad and brother. “You coming in? I’m about to hop in the shower but I’ll make us a huge breakfast after.” She nodded toward the house, then slid her gaze to watch Luke open his car door.

Her feet stung from standing barefoot on the sharp gravel, so she didn’t bother waiting for him to drive off but headed straight for the bathroom. The scalding hot water and steam felt good as it poured over her. She always used her mom’s minty-smelling shampoo when she visited the farm. It made her scalp tingle, energizing the rest of her body and mind.

With a towel wrapped around her, she padded across the hall to her bedroom. It hadn’t changed since she’d gone away to college. The same framed photos hung on the walls, same complete set of Nancy Drews on the shelves, same CD player on the dresser covered with stickers.

After sliding a no-muss-no-fuss sundress over her head, she combed out her hair, scrunching the ends so they’d dry wavy. She frowned at the CD player. Had it just switched on by itself?

No, but she definitely heard music.

Following the sound, she walked down the hall, then stopped before entering the living room. The scene she found around the corner was so out of context she had to do a double take.

The music was an acoustic guitar; the player was Luke.

Brandon sat on the opposite end of the couch, flipping through a three-ring binder. “This one?” he said, holding up the page for Luke to see.

“You know your classics,” Luke said.

Muff shrugged and looked down. “I used to be into music.”

Luke glanced at him, then returned his gaze to the guitar strings, his fingers strumming. “No one who’s been into music ever really stops being into it. It’s in your soul forever. Maybe it gets buried deep under piles of shit for a while, but it’s always there, waiting to make you happy again. A good friend told me that recently. At least that’s how it is with me. Know what I mean?”

Brandon brushed the hair away from his eyes and nodded. “I guess.”

Luke made a few more strums then stopped. “Your turn.” He unfastened the strap and passed his guitar to Brandon. But her brother didn’t take it. “It’s cool,” Luke said. “No one’s watching. It’s just you and me, man.”

But someone was watching, and Natalie felt a sob in her throat when her little brother slowly lifted a hand and took the guitar.

“Know how to fasten it?” Luke asked. Muff secured the strap across his back, settling the guitar on his lap, his hands moving into the positions like he was about to play. “You said you know a few chords?”

“
G
and
C
…
E
-minor.”

“Let’s hear ‘em.”

Brandon clenched his left hand into a fist, then stretched his fingers over the strings. He strummed a couple of times with his right hand.

“Now the
E
,” Luke said.

He readjusted his fingers and strummed another chord. Before Luke could request the next one, Brandon switched again, then back to the first. The sound was like an angel to Natalie’s ears.

“To go from
E
to
G
,” Luke said, “put your third finger on the
D
. That’s it.” He sat the open binder on the couch between them. “You’ll need A-minor for this song, but it’s way easy.” Without touching him, he explained where Brandon’s fingers should go. “You got that, too. Throw in a
D
and you’re set.”

“Isn’t the
D
…?” He adjusted his fingers and strummed, but he got the positioning wrong. Natalie held her breath, hoping this minor setback wouldn’t derail her brother.

“Close,” Luke said. “I make the same mistake all the time. Press your pinky on the—” The strum cut him off. “That’s right.” Natalie released her held breath. “Okay, can you see the page from here?” Brandon nodded. “It starts on
G
, goes to
E
-minor, then back to
G
.”

“Got it,” he said. Then with no sign of fear, her brother was playing.

Natalie didn’t recognize the song, but watching her brother play, showing an intent interest was amazing. Luke leaned back on the couch, a hand at his chin, staring into the middle distance while his head bobbed to a beat Natalie couldn’t follow.

“You know the coolest thing about this song is the lyrics, right?” Luke said. “Gotta hear you sing it.”

“I…don’t sing,” Brandon said, shifting his position on the couch.

Please don’t give up
, Natalie pleaded, not sure which guy she was talking to.

“Neither do I,” Luke said with a chuckle. “But I do it anyway, and I don’t give a rat’s ass what anyone thinks. Come on, I’ll kick it off. Hit the
G
to
E
-minor intro.”

Natalie could see her brother’s shoulders tense up, and she wrung her hands together, fearing the inevitable: for Muff to shut down.

But a second later, he strummed the first chord.

“’I’m drivin’ in the caaaar,’” Luke sang. “’Turn up the radioooo…’” His head was bobbing again, his foot tapping, keeping time to Brandon’s accompaniment. He sang the next line of the verse, then Brandon—shaky and timid at first—joined in, and the two guys sang together.

Natalie clenched her fists so tightly that her nails were leaving imprints in her palms.

“’Now Romeo and Julieeeet’—you take the next line, man,” Luke said.

“’Sampson and Deliiiilah,’” Brandon sang on his own.

They continued switching back and forth until the end of the song, both of them crooning the last note like wannabe rockers.

“Woo-hoo, yeah,” Luke exclaimed. “Springsteen’s got
nothin’
on us.”

“Nothin’,” Brandon said, his hair falling over his eyes. But the smile on his face stole Natalie’s breath. “What about this one?” he said, flipping to another page of Luke’s binder.

“You man enough to play John Denver?”

“Hell, yes.”

Natalie stepped into the kitchen, pressed her back to the wall, and quietly slid to the floor, spending the next hour listening to Luke and Brandon riff. They covered the classics from Dylan to Morrison to the Stones. She couldn’t think of the last time there’d been live music at the farm, or the sound of her brother’s laugh.

“Oh,” she heard Muff say. “That’s my alarm. It reminds me to take my…pills. And I gotta do some other stuff, too.”

“That’s cool,” Luke said. “I have to head out, anyway.” She heard them both stand up from the couch, the wooden floorboards creaking. “Hey, why don’t you keep the guitar for a while? Your sister will get it back to me when you’re done.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, man. I won’t be needing it anytime soon. They won’t let me audition for American Idol anymore.”

Brandon exhaled a quiet chuckle. “Okay, um, thanks. I swear I’ll take care of it.”

No more talking came from the living room, but Natalie heard the floorboards creak as the two guys went their separate ways.

“Hey.”

Startled, she sucked in a breath and looked up.

Luke stood over her. He tilted his head and his eyebrows pulled together, examining her more closely. “Hey,” he repeated, but the tone had changed from casual greeting to something soft like compassion.

Only then did she realize she was crying—silently sobbing in the kitchen for who knows how long. Her eyes to the base of her throat were wet from a steady stream of tears.

“Natalie,” he said, crouching down so he was at her eye level. “Nat.” Before she could form any kind of reply, let alone get her mouth to open, Luke took both her hands and gently pulled her to her feet. “I passed by the back corner of the apple orchard when I drove in. Will you show me the rest?”

L
uke hadn’t known Natalie had overheard him with Brandon. In fact, he had no clue she was anywhere near them. He figured after all the glares she’d thrown his way when he’d been talking to her father, that she’d taken off, too annoyed to be on the same plot of land.

He deserved her wrath. After meeting her father, he’d been about to drive away when something had stopped him.

Brandon had been checking out his guitar again, and Luke got the overwhelming feeling he should ask the kid if
he
played. Next thing he knew, he was in their living room giving an impromptu lesson.

Luke had no idea what kind of depression Brandon had, but in their short time together, he’d seen the kid open up, just a bit. He hadn’t realized what a big deal that was until he’d found Natalie slumped in a corner of the kitchen, hugging her knees to her chest, crying.

It was a knife to his gut.

He didn’t need another overwhelming feeling to know he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Let me put on some shoes and get a sweater before we go to the orchard,” Natalie said, touching the back of her hand to her wet cheek, not meeting his gaze. She didn’t need to be embarrassed about crying. She didn’t need to be anything but herself. Her kind-hearted self.

She met him on the porch wearing a pair of knee-high black rubber boots—a charming contrast paired with her little white and blue-striped, spaghetti strapped dress.

“Ready?” she asked, sliding her arms inside a white cardigan, glancing at him quickly then away. Wordlessly, she led him to the other side of the house, past a big red barn, and through a gate. Luke knew where the orchard was and could have explored it by himself if he’d wanted. But he needed to be with Natalie, though he didn’t know why.

Beyond the gate were dozens of trees, maybe a hundred, standing in precise rows, each bearing more red apples than its neighbor.

“Whoa,” Luke said. “That’s a hell of a lot of cider.”

“It takes four pounds to make one liter,” she said, walking to stand between two trees. “That’s nearly sixteen pounds to make a gallon. The taste used to make me gag.” She shook her head and dropped her chin. “I was so ungrateful. I had no idea what I had. Life can change so fast.” She was blinking rapidly.

“Natalie.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Let me just say—”

“Luke, don’t.” Tiny tears clung to her lashes, gutting him again. “I don’t want your pity—I couldn’t stand it. Not after…” She stopped like she couldn’t say the next word. “Not after everything.”