Presently Perfect (Perfect #3) (14 page)

I placed the cake on the nightstand and sat on the bed beside her. My hand reached out, wanting to sweep a few stray pieces of hair off her forehead. I stopped myself. I couldn’t act on instinct anymore and keep doing what felt natural when it came to Tweet. As I drew my hand back, I saw her eyes squint open.

“I know you’re not sleeping.”

The edges of her mouth curled up slightly as dark lashes rose. The stream of moonlight coming in the window lit up her eyes. They were red and puffy from crying, but still the most beautiful eyes I’d ever looked into.

Clearing her throat, she asked, “How long have you been here?”

“I don’t know, not long.” My voice sounded weak, deflated, and unrecognizable.

“What are you doing here?”

Tweet sat up, bringing us face-to-face. Being this close, seeing the pain in her eyes that I caused made it hard to breathe. I wanted to run my thumbs over her cheeks and wipe away the tear stains. Instead, my fingers flexed, dug into the tops of my thighs, and kept their distance.

“What about Beth?” There was a tremble in her voice.

“She’s not coming over. We’re done.”

“Why?”

“I told her there was someone else.” I gave her a slight smile while our gaze stayed connected.

A prickling sensation radiated from my head, chest, arms, and legs until my entire body was one huge electrical current. Tweet squirmed. I could tell she felt it too. This wasn’t the first time it had happened between us. The air shifted and crackled as our gaze locked on each other. It was in these intense moments that we weren’t Tweet and Noah. We were a boy and a girl who had an inherent need for each other.

In front of me was the girl of my dreams, the only love my heart would ever know, and the one person I was meant to make a life with. During these times I believed we would be together. Then the trigger would get pulled, her demeanor would change, and the moment vanished. All the crap involved with being Tweet and Noah would come crashing down around us. It was a pattern and until I broke away from it, I’d never be able to move on.

“Come on, it’s cake time,” I said, tilting my chin toward the nightstand. “Let’s go to the park.”

I stood and reached out my hand to Tweet. The second her skin touched mine, I couldn’t help but pull her off the bed, wrap my arms around her waist, and hold her against my chest. Her hands immediately gripped my biceps. Slowly, I leaned forward until our foreheads touched.

Tears that I’d been holding back burned my throat. I closed my eyes, pushing them down once again, and said in a low husky voice, “I’m so sorry. I never should have said any of that stuff to you. Please, don’t be mad at me, Tweet.”

The feel of her hands making their way up my arms, over my shoulders, and curling behind my neck caused my arms to tighten around her. Turning my head, I nuzzled deep into her neck.

Her lips brushed the bottom of my earlobe when she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Noah, for everything. I don’t know how to change and make things better.”

I wanted to scream at her and tell her I would figure out how to change things, but I knew she wouldn’t listen. Her mind was made up and it had been for a long time. I don’t know how long we stood in her room in this position. I could have held Tweet until the end of time and it still wouldn’t have been long enough. I needed this night to be over and for the hurting to stop.

Pulling my head away, I stepped back, took in a deep breath, and said, “I think it’s time for cake.”

Without another word, I picked up the cake, grabbed Tweet’s hand, and headed out the door.

My footsteps dragged along the sidewalk as
the air became thick and suffocating the closer we got to the park. My sweaty hand gripped Tweet’s tighter, but I couldn’t let go. My head knew I’d have to soon, but my heart wouldn’t let me, not yet.

Instead of heading to our spot I led Tweet to the playground area where we sat side-by-side in the swings. I unwrapped the cake, holding it and the fork out to her. The tips of her fingers grazed the top of my hand as she tentatively took the fork. She aimed for the biggest glob of frosting, scooped it up, and lifted it to her mouth. I watched mesmerized as Tweet’s lips wrapped around the fork, the frosting completely disappearing. A slight moan rolled up from the back of her throat as she slowly slid the fork out her mouth.

She tilted her head back, passing the fork off to me. Moving her lips, she said something, but I was too fixated on the movement to hear anything that came out of them.

I gulped a large amount of air and said, “You really know how to eat cake.”

The fork passed between us until the cake was gone. I kept the pace slow, not wanting time to move forward, focusing on the present, because the future was about to become irreversible.

After tossing our trash in the can, I headed back to Tweet. As I approached she stood and took a few steps in my direction. Her face scrunched up in confusion when she realized I wasn’t making a move to leave. An overall numbness invaded my body.

Huffing out a strained breath, I whispered, “We need to talk, Tweet.”

Her shoulders sank as her chest caved in, and fear took over her expression. I could tell she wanted to run, but she stayed firmly planted in front of me. We moved back to the swings and sat. I made several attempts to form the words, but they kept taking a detour, getting lost somewhere in between my head and my heart.

Tweet finally broke the silence. “Why are we sitting over here?”

“I didn’t want to talk at your house or our spot,” I admitted.

“Why?”

“Since you left my house, all I can see when I walk into the family room is you sitting on the floor, screaming and crying.”

I felt the beginning of a sob tremor run through my body. I bit my lip and held my breath, riding the wave in silence, and not letting it pour out of me.

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t want you to have the same pain as I do whenever you’re in your room or at our spot.” Pausing, I tried to focus on anything other than Tweet’s eyes. They were on the verge of spilling over with tears. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to be around each other for a while.” My voice cracked on each word.

All the oxygen rushed out of my lungs and my head throbbed. Tweet’s face was getting redder and more contorted. I gripped the metal chain of the swing as hard as I possibly could, trying to hold myself together and not reach out to touch her. Her eyes were the size of saucers as she concentrated on my face. The silence between us strangled my throat, but I was frozen, not knowing what else to say. I stayed put, waiting for Tweet to make the next move.

“Why?” The word barely made it across her lips.

“I think you know why,” I whispered.

“I think I do too but I’d like to hear it from you, just in case I’m wrong.”

I hesitated. I was scared to continue the conversation, worried that my pain and frustration would explode in anger like it had earlier. I didn’t want to fight with her anymore. “Tweet, I don’t know,” I paused again. “This thing is confusing.”

“What thing?”

Pointing back and forth between us, I said, “This thing between us. It’s so different.”

“Different good or different bad?”

“Different confusing. I know you’ve always been down on yourself. I know you think you’re doing what’s best for me. I hate that you think so little of yourself and I hate that you don’t think we belong together. I’ve tried to be around you and stay in the friend zone. I’ve tried so fucking hard.” Tears flowed freely down her face, causing my own to spill over. “I can’t be around you right now. It hurts too much, because I am so completely and desperately in love with you, Tweet.”

Silence.

Tweet, say something. Tell me you’ll at least try. Don’t let me give up on us, please.

Silence.

“There hasn’t been a day in my life that I haven’t loved you. I wish you would just let me love you,” I choked.

A look of devastation flooded her eyes when my words registered. I knew she loved me. I could see it and feel it, but she was incapable of saying it. She didn’t know how to free herself from whatever it was that had a hold on her and the struggle was ripping me apart. I didn’t know how to help her. If I couldn’t take care of Tweet then what the fuck was my purpose?

I reached my hand up and gently stroked one of her tear-drenched cheeks. Resting our foreheads together, I whispered. “You’ll always be the most important thing in my life. I’ll always be there for you no matter what or who else comes into my life. I have no past without you and I can’t imagine a future that doesn’t include you. I just need some time to figure out how I can have you in my life without having you
be
my life.”

Tears continued to gush in a steady stream from her eyes as she clamped them shut. After several seconds they opened and peered directly into mine. Starting at my cheek, the tips of her fingers touched my skin and timidly traveled down to my jaw. “I’m so sorry.”

The entire night still felt surreal as we walked back to Tweet’s house. We stood on her front porch, our arms wrapped around each other like a pair of lifelines. First, I concentrated on the feel of her body, the softness of her skin, and the smell of her hair. Then my focus moved to how right it felt belonging to her. No matter what happened in our past or what will take place in our future, I will always belong to Tweet.

I shifted my weight from side-to-side, each time thinking the movement would break our connection. It only caused my fear and pain to intensify. Last year during one of the playoff games, we were so far behind, the entire team knew there was no way for us to rally and win. Coach told us there are no magic answers in life. You could want something so deeply and desperately, do everything in your power to achieve it, and still fall short. That there are just times in life that you have to suck it up, be strong, and get through it.

I allowed my lips to brush the shell of Tweet’s ear and whispered, “I need to go or I won’t, and I have to do this.”

“I know,” she choked out.

I took a step back. Our faces were drenched in tears and our chests were pumping heavy from our sobs. The look in her eyes reflected what I was feeling. The heartache and fear of facing a life without my soul mate.

My gaze lingered on every inch of her beautiful face before I forced the words out. “Goodbye, Tweet.”

“Goodbye, Noah.”

Walking backward down the steps, I was still unable to take my eyes off of her. Once at the bottom, I hesitated, praying that she’d listen to her heart. For a brief second I swore I saw her lips form the words,
I love you
. But she never moved and the only sound I heard were the crickets chirping around us. I turned and left behind the only life I knew and wanted. No more hearing her laughter or seeing her smile. No more watching her devour spoonfuls of frosting or getting lost in our favorite music. No warm hugs, soft hands in mine, or shy sweet looks. No one to share and live my dreams with. All I could do was wait for this new life to feel like my life, but deep down I knew that would never happen.

The rest of junior year inched along as I continued to distance myself from Tweet. At school, I stopped using the locker next to hers, opting for one in the locker room, I stopped eating lunch with her, and I found a new parking spot as far away from hers as possible. Out of school, I forced myself to stop riding by
our spot
and severely limited my time staring out of the kitchen window over at her house. It wasn’t easy but I managed. I had to. The hardest times were when our families did things together, like a cookout or spending a day on the Kelly’s boat. I was amazed how exhausting it was not to
do what came naturally. It took herculean strength not to hug her, hold her hand, or sit next to her. Not making eye contact and not talking to her was unbearable.

I made plans to be gone most of the summer visiting the campuses of potential colleges to attend after graduation. I doubled my workouts, was taking part in The Citadel baseball camp, playing in the summer league, and volunteering at a sports program for underprivileged kids. I forced myself to stay in perpetual motion until the urge for Tweet to
be
my life went away. I was an idiot because the urge never faded and deep down I knew it never would.

One night, a month before senior year started, I was sitting alone on another sofa, drinking another beer, at another party Travis dragged me to. They all blurred together at this point—same crowd, same conversation, same music, same everything. I wasn’t exactly the most fun person to be around, but Travis continued to hang out with me. I felt bad for him. He was a good friend and put up with my moody ass. I faked having a good time for the most part, except for tonight.

Earlier in the day Travis and I met at the mall to pick up some baseball equipment the Sportsman’s Shop donated for the kid’s program where we were assistant coaches. After loading up my truck we decided to grab some lunch at the food court. As I stood in line waiting to place my order an intense vibration shot through me. When I turned, my gaze crashed into teal eyes. Everything stopped. I hadn’t been this close to Tweet in months. She stared at me with a blank expression. My heart dictated my movements and I took a step toward her. Whirling around, she sprinted in the opposite direction before my foot even hit the ground. My body headed in her direction until Travis stood between us, blocking my view and progress.