Let Me In (11 page)

His arm tenses around my shoulder before relaxing slightly. “Cancer…ovarian,” he reveals.

“How old were you?” His body shifts, and I can tell he’s uncomfortable with the subject.

“Fourteen,” he says.

“That’s her picture on your desk?” I question, sensing this is going to be a very short conversation.

“Yeah.”

“She’s really pretty. You look a lot like her.” I glance up at him, taking in
his blonde hair and mesmerizing blue eyes he shares with his mother.

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” he tells me, moving his arm from around me to hold the steering wheel tight.

“You’re both gorgeous,” I say, trying to lighten the conversation up a little. I have no idea what it would be like to not have a mother. Or worse, watching her die. That’s the one thing Sadie told me that Brady had revealed to her. Grant pretty much watched his mother wither away from the disease.

“You’re gorgeous.” He smiles down at me for a brief second before turning his attention back to the road.

“Whatever,” I say and knock him with my shoulder.

“You have no idea how you look in my eyes, do you?” He’s speaking seriously, gazing down at me. “It’s not just your looks Jessa. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. It pours out of you when you walk into the room. People can’t help but notice you,” he states and I actually want to cry, his words are so sweet. No one has ever said anything like that to me. Sure boys have told me how hot I am, but what does that really mean? Pretty much that they want to fuck me, that’s what.

Things with Grant are different than anything I’ve ever experienced, and I’m really starting to like it. It’s nice to have someone to take care of me, and I can take care of them in return. Even though things are progressing extremely fast between us, I’m alarmed again how it all just feels…right.

We’ve hit the hills of Pennsylvania and I can tell that the roads must be slick from the way the truck slides a little when we turn. I’m used to driving through the mountains of Colorado, but
they take good care of their roads. Here, not so much. Some of the roads are barely plowed, leaving patches of ice everywhere. Passing a few rundown houses, Grant turns into a small gathering of houses clustered together. Going up one of the hills, Grant finally stops and I release a breath now that we’ve reached our destination safely.

It’s a cute, blue cabin with more windows than siding. A long, front porch wraps around from the front door to the back of the house, and I’m eager to explore. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why I’m falling for him. The fact that he took time away from work and school to bring me here means more than I can express.

“Come on,” Grant urges, tugging my hand. “I can’t wait for you to see it.”

I imagine my eyes are dreamy as I follow him into the cabin. Swallowing hard, I stare at the back of his short blonde hair, feeling the warmth of his strong hand in mine. There’s no denying I love him, but there’s also no way I’m telling him.

Grant

I forgot there’d be more snow up here and I pray my truck makes it up this hill, which is steeper than I remember. Fortunately, the old beast holds its own, but Jessa looks terrified so I reach over and grab her hand. She quickly tosses it back to me.

“Are you crazy? Both hands on the wheel,” she shrieks and I chuckle.

“I’ve driven up here plenty of times,” I assure her.

“Where are we anyway?” she asks, her frightened eyes looking back and forth out the windows. No doubt the icy and dark roads make her nervous.

Her question takes me back to when I first learned about this lake house. My mom told me about it in my high school graduation letter:

Grant,

Congratulations, my high school graduate! I’m so proud of you. I hope you’ve picked the college you want to attend, and not just Western because that’s where Dad works. Maybe you even have a basketball scholarship. You love basketball so much.

My present to you i
s my family’s lake house. I have enclosed the map to get there, along with the deed and the key. It’s yours, Grant, to do with what you want. Your father knows that I am leaving it to you, understanding it was something I wanted you to have. I love your dad and I didn’t want to upset him, but the house means a lot to me. Knowing that you’ll have a piece of something I loved so much brings me peace of mind.

You decide what you want to do it with it
, honey, it’s yours now.

Congratulations again.
I love you, sweetheart.

Love,

Mom

XOXO

After I read the letter, I hopped into the truck and drove right up here. Of course, it was summer then so the trees were full of leaves and the lake, cool and inviting. I inserted the key into the door and was surprised to find it occupied. I hurriedly said my apologies and shut the door, thinking I had the wrong house. Jogging down the steps, I realized my key had fit so it must have been the right house. I walked up the steps once again, knocking on the door this time. When the man opened the door for me, I introduced myself. He informed me that his family was renting the cabin and told me where to find the guy he rented it from.

Three houses down,
I found a beige house with white shutters and a wooden sign that read ‘The Fletchers’. A rocking chair occupied one side of the porch and there was a double swing on the other.

I
rang the doorbell, hearing faint footsteps echo from the other side of the door. When it opened, I was completely taken aback.

“Mrs. Fletcher?” I
questioned, astonished to see her standing in front of me.

“Grant, how are you
, son?” she asked casually, clearly expecting me.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” I
asked her. “My mom left me a letter…”

“I know, dear, why don’t you come in and have something to eat,” she
said with sympathy in her tone, motioning me inside.

I
remember following her into the house, noticing that it was decorated identically to her house in Western. Mrs. Fletcher, a neighbor of the Carsen’s, watched us when our parents went out together and always gave us snacks and juice when we were little. Since neither Brady or I had grandparents, she was like a pseudo-grandma to us.

She sat me down at the round oak table
before grabbing a pitcher from the fridge, along with two glasses and some banana bread.

“Thank you, Mrs. Fletcher,” I said
, pouring us both a drink and accepting the slice of bread.

“You’re welcome.” She took the chair next to me and placed her hand on mine.

I stared down at her weathered hand and then looked back to her. “Can you tell me what’s going on?” I asked.

“You’re grandma was my best friend,” she revealed. “We grew up here together.”

“How come you never said anything before?”

“It never came up.” She shrugged her shoulders, staring out the window
and I assumed she was remembering my grandma, who died a year before I was born.

“So, the house? The occupant told me a man rented him the house
,” I questioned.

“Yes, my brother. He lives here permanently, and I travel back and forth during the summer, spending most of the winter here. Your mother put us in charge of the house until you turned eighteen. We’ve kept up the grounds and inside for you. These houseguests will be gone tomorrow, so why don’t you stay with us tonight and then we’ll go over after they leave
.

“Why did she wait to give it to me?” I asked.

“I don’t know the answer to that, dear, but I do know your mother loved that house. She came up here many times throughout the years without your father. You’ve been here before as well, but you were young so you probably don’t recall it. I remember when she was pregnant with you, she stayed the whole winter up here. When I would bring her some of my cookies or cakes, she would always be curled up on the couch with a book on her belly.” She smiled as if reliving a happy memory. “When she asked me if I would do this favor for her, I happily agreed. You know you can sell it if that’s what you want to do,” she said, the hesitation in her voice evident.

“I don’t know what I want to do with it,” I admitted. I literally just found out
this place existed four hours prior.

“You would get a lot of money, enough to get you through college at least,” she said. “But my brother and I would like to offer you something else.” I noticed the water forming under her eyelids.

“I never said I wanted to sell it,” I told her.

“We have this,” she
said, handing me a check with an absurd amount of money written on it. “All the rent money throughout the years. This money is yours Grant, not ours. You’re mom told us to keep the money as payment for taking care of the house, but if you don’t sell, we’ll give it to you. The house meant too much to your mom for it not to stay in your family.”

“I can’t accept it, Mrs. Fletcher. My mom was right
. It’s yours for the hard work you put in to keep it going.” I pushed the check across the table, already convinced I wouldn’t be selling the house.

“Please, Grant, stay here tonight. I just know you’ll fall in love with it just like your mother did.”

“On one condition,” I said. I remember her looking up at me with desperate eyes. “You and Fred keep the money.”

“Hello?” Jessa waves her hand in front of my face. “Whose house is this?” she asks. I look up to see we’ve arrived. I must have been driving on autopilot while remembering.

“Mine,” I answer and shock forms across her face. “Come on.” I grab her hand and pull her out of my side of the truck.

It’s dark, so I lead her to the porch and insert my key. When I open the door, I’m happy that Mrs. Fletcher and her brother are so nice. When I called them this afternoon, I was relieved to find that there were no renters for the week. They informed me that they would stock the fridge for us, and I already see a basket of fresh muffins, no doubt baked by Mrs. Fletcher.

“Wow, Grant, this is so nice,” Jessa says after she walks in ahead of me.

“Thanks,” I respond, accepting her compliment. Every summer, I come up and fix or remodel things whenever it’s not being rented. I still leave Fred in charge of that, and he and Mrs. Fletcher still receive the money. They’re doing all the work so I don’t want a dime.

We enter the great room with the new ceiling fan I’d installed last summer. It was killer getting it to hang from two stories up, but it relieved the hot summer heat. The flat-panel plasma TV is mounted to the wall and the brown leather couch sits opposite. To our left is the kitchen filled with a white, oval table and six chairs surrounding it.

Jessa plops down on the couch. “Care to join me?” she excitedly asks and I hop onto it, making her rise up a little from the difference in our weights.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Grant Bishop.” She swings her legs across my lap and I start massaging her feet.

“It’s just a cabin,” I say, second guessing my decision to bring her up here. I don’t want her to think I have money because I don’t. “My mom left it to me.” I’m not sure why I tell her; it’s not like I want to talk about it.

“It’s wonderful. Was it your parents?” Shit, I was hoping Sadie has already informed her of my asshole dad.

“No, just my mom’s. My dad doesn’t care about it.” Jesus, there it goes again. All my shit keeps slipping out.

“Oh,” she silently mouths, looking away from me. For a second, I think she isn’t going to call me out on it. “Where’s your dad?” She looks back to me and those piercing hazel eyes hit me in the gut.

“Florida,” I say, giving her the bare information.

“Does he ever come up?” And her endless questions continue.

“No,” I curtly respond. Jessa’s eyes jerk toward mine and regret washes over me. It’s not her fault my dad’s an asshole.

“Come,” she stands up, holding out her hand. “Show me the deck.” I reach for her hand and pull her down on my lap. Trapping her head between my hands, I kiss her as passionately as I feel, happy she’s not going to push me to talk about him. Instantly, our hands start roaming, her hands to my crotch and mine to her breasts. I know I should stop this before it goes too far. My plans tonight involve something more intimate. But God, her hands and mouth feel so good. The way her warm pierced tongue explores mine only makes me crave her more.

“Let’s go see the deck,” I whisper, gently nudging her off my lap. I chuckle at her disappointed pout and discreetly adjust myself. “I think you’ll love it.” I grab her hand and guide her to the back door. After I open it she gasps from alongside of me, and I place my hand on the small of her back indicating for her to go first.

“Holy shit, Grant, it’s beautiful!” She swiftly walks to the railing that overlooks the lake below.

“I know, sometimes I sit out here at night and just absorb it.” I walk up behind her, placing my arms on either side of her small frame, locking her in.

She turns toward the rocking chair in the corner. How on earth did she notice that with all her excitement? She goes over, obviously eager to sit in it. As she rocks back and forth with a cheesy grin on her face, I can’t help but picture my mom rocking while she was pregnant with me. Then my mind drifts further into the future. I picture Jessa rocking there with a full belly, her hand on her stomach and me walking through the door and rushing over to kiss her. A feeling of bliss hits me like a Mack truck and love washes over me fast. Shit, I did it…I fell in love with her.

“What are you staring at?” She playfully questions while she continues rocking, crossing her legs on the chair.

“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head. The look she gives me when she slowly rises and walks toward me tells me that she’s not going to let this one go.

“What is it, Grant?” she softly asks, brushing her hand on my arm.

How did I let this happen? I can’t love her. I won’t let myself go through that heartache again. She looks up at me and her eyes reflect the moon, making the specks of grey more noticeable now. Her short blonde hair has grown longer. A bobby pin keeps the longer stands out of her eyes, the same eyes that are pleading with me right now to be honest with her. She knows exactly what I’m thinking and she wants me to say it, but I can’t. The words are lodged in my throat, held hostage by the fear that if I admit them, it will end. I brought her up here to make her feel special, to make her tell me what happened to her, and to let her know that I couldn’t give a shit what that jackass did to her, but somehow this spun back toward me.

“I said nothing.” I shake my head again.

“Okay,” she whispers and backs away from me. I stand still, my eyes following her as she makes her way to the railing again. The look of disappointment doesn’t go unnoticed and I wish I could reveal everything. Let her know why I can’t take the chance again.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that I’ve never felt like this. I loved Lizzy, I know I did. So why do these feelings flowing through my body now seem so foreign?

“Jessa,” I say and she quickly turns around, but not before I see the tears in her eyes. Shit, I made her cry. That was never my intention.

Taking determined steps, I walk toward her and instinctively pull her into me. She starts to weep in my arms, and I pull back to wipe the tears on her cheek with my thumb. “Don’t cry, Jessa,” I plead.

“I’m sorry…it’s just, there’s something I need to tell you. If you only knew, Grant,” she sniffles. I don’t know if she’s talking about the pictures or not.

“I do,” I honestly say and she pushes away from me, fear replacing the tears in her eyes.

“No, you don’t,” she says determinedly, as if she already knows the truth but doesn’t want to admit it. I wasn’t going to tell her I found out, but rather wait for her to share it with me. I can’t keep this kind of secret from her. She deserves to know, even if it’ll hurt. “You…can’t.” She is now five steps away from me, and as much as I want to grab her, I know she needs space right now.