Running in Place (Mending Hearts) (25 page)

Reaching over, I pull it out of the water just as the door cracks open and she pokes her head just barely around the corner, her eyes full of apprehension, which fucking kills me. But once she glances down at the toothbrush in my grasp, dripping as I hold it over the commode, the worry lines disappear as her face softens into a gorgeous smile.

“Um, I hope that’s yours,” she laughs. Picking the shower curtain and rod combo off the floor, she tosses it out of the way of the door as she opens it wider, finally stepping inside. Setting her hands on her hips, she turns as she surveys the damage done to the room.

“Nice job. I mean, this is nothing compared to what I can do, but it’s a start.” Looking over at me, her mouth tips down as she begins to clear a path with her foot, making her way to where I’m standing. Once she’s in front of me, she opens her arms and wraps them around my waist, placing her head on my chest.

“You okay? You look like you need a hug.” Just like that, the anger recedes and I chuckle under my breath. It can’t be helped. I’ve completely demolished this bathroom and her answer to all of my problems is a simple hug. The ironic thing is, it’s not the hug I need.

It’s
her
.

“I am now.” Running my hand down her hair, I place my other arm around her shoulders and press my lips on top of her head, taking in a whiff of her hair in the process. Her grip on me tightens as she exhales.

“Let’s get out of here for a while,” she says, pulling her head away and setting her head on my chest, she smiles. “I know where we can go. A place where there’s never a dull moment, complete with constant chaos and laughter. We can clean this up later.”

Grabbing my hand, she pulls me out of the bathroom and throws me my jeans. “Get dressed.”

“Where are we going?” I ask as she begins to shimmy into her own jeans. Turning around, she puts on her bra and shirt. This makes me laugh. I’ve just seen her naked, yet she insists on dressing in private. I sigh inwardly. Probably for the best or we might not leave. I’m tempted to pull her on the bed and finish what I started earlier.

“It’s a surprise. But, I’m driving.” She turns back around, wearing my
Ramones
t-shirt. Pulling her hair up into a high ponytail, she slides on her Chucks before heading back to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

As soon as the water stops running, I continue our conversation. “We are
not
taking P.O.S,” I say, pulling my jeans over my hips as she closes the door behind her. She laughs an evil laugh.

“No, we’re not. We’re taking Betsy.” Reaching toward the end table, she snatches my keys, throws my bedroom door open and takes off, giggling as she exits my house. I swear I still hear laughing on my front lawn. Not even bothering to lace my boots, I slide them on before grabbing my wallet and phone off the table. After turning off the lights before I leave, I step out onto the porch, closing the door behind me.

Heading towards the already started Jeep, I open the passenger side door, immediately greeted by Tatum’s illuminating smile as she dons my aviators, bouncing up and down in the driver’s seat, clearly unable to contain her excitement. She looks fucking amazing.

Giving her a grin, I slump down into my seat and close the door. “Where’re we headed to?”

She adjusts the mirrors and then puts the Jeep in reverse. Hooking her arm around the back of my seat, still smiling, she says, “First thing, we’re getting your ass a toothbrush and toothpaste. You can brush on the way.” She starts to back out of the driveway. “I just cleared our destination with the parties involved, and we will be arriving shortly.”

Laughing, I face forward and just let her drive. Leaning toward the radio, I turn it on and the sound of Carly Rae Jepsen’s
Call Me Maybe
blares through my speakers. I reach to change the station, but my hand is assaulted as she smacks it away and turns it up even louder. Her shoulders begin to bounce as she belts out the song, the wind blowing her hair everywhere and the smile on her face so pure, so carefree, I find her absolutely mesmerizing. My heart clenches at the thought of leaving, no longer able to experience any of this with her.

As we drive, and as she sings every single song that plays, I think about my morning with her.

It’s undeniable.

I want her.

Unfortunately, I can’t have her.

So I try to help her. I want her to heal. I want her to be happy. I want her to move forward instead of remaining in this guilt-filled quicksand of a life that she’s been barely escaping since I met her. And as I watch her singing and laughing next to me, I hope that she’s learning there’s more to her life than her past. That she
alone
determines her future because I need to know that she’ll be okay when I do leave.

Glancing over at her, I can’t help but smile as she sings Taylor Swift’s
22
. With her hand clutched to her chest, she sings straight from her heart with such conviction, her desire to just
be
stirring something deep within my soul. I completely understand her longing to be free in this life. To just be who we are — no fear, no expectations, no anger — just a couple of crazy kids knowing nothing of our tortured pasts. I understand her because I
am
her.

A smile breaks across my face as I drum my thumb on my thigh to the beat of the music. Finally looking forward, I do the one thing I never thought myself capable of doing.

I sing along with her.

At the top of my fucking lungs.

Laughing, she looks over at me, nodding her approval while she continues her heartfelt serenade. As we come to the chorus, she holds her fist in front of my mouth, and while I want to tell her to keep both hands on the wheel, I don’t.

I grab her wrist and yell every single word until she’s laughing so hard, tears form behind her sunglasses. My heart swells with pure, unadulterated joy at the sight.

As the song ends, we pull into the gas station to get my much needed toothbrush and toothpaste. Parking by an available gas pump, I open my door just as Tatum jumps out of the Jeep. “I got it!” she yells as she crosses the front of the vehicle. “I’m going to grab something to eat. Want anything?”

Knowing that nothing really tastes good after brushing my teeth, I reply, “Nah. Go ahead. I’ll get some gas while you’re inside.” Stepping out onto the pavement as she turns towards the entrance, I tear my gaze away from her ass and make my way to the pump. After filling the tank, I set the nozzle back and turn just as she’s exiting the gas station.

Beaming smile on her face, she approaches, plastic bag in hand. “Okay, I got you some water too, so you can rinse.” Grabbing the toothbrush, she hands it to me, followed by a box of toothpaste and a bottle of water. I walk over to the trashcan, thankful that it’s early and that only a liner is inside, and brush my teeth, rinsing and gargling with the water before turning back to where she’s standing.

“Ready?” she asks. Jumping in the driver’s seat once again, she starts the engine as I take my seat.

Soon after, we pull up to a red-brick house in suburbia. Complete with a white picket fence and perfect landscaping. As we come to a stop, I begin to ask her where in the hell we are when I hear shrieking and screaming coming from the front porch. Startled, I look over in the direction of all the chaos where three familiar little girls are waving while running our way.

“We’re at Blake’s house?” I ask.

“Yep. I haven’t been over here in a while. I miss the girls and I want them to officially meet you. Even though I know you’ve seen them, I don’t think you’ve been formally introduced.” She opens her door and as soon as her feet touch the ground, all three girls have their arms wrapped around her waist, laughing and giggling with excitement.

Shutting my door behind me, I walk around the front of the Jeep to where they all stand, their eyes all locked on me. It’s pretty intimidating. Rubbing the top of my head, I wait for Tatum to make the introductions because honestly, kids scare the shit out of me.

Crouching down between them, she looks at the girls and then up at me. “Girls, this is Noah. My friend. Go shake his hand and introduce yourself.”

High-pitched giggles come from the smaller ones, but the oldest just watches me with a wary look in her eyes. Like she’s evaluating me. It’s unnerving.

After a couple of seconds, she finally steps forward and sticks her hand out in front of me. Her curly hair in a low ponytail, she’s wearing a checkered fedora, a shirt with some group of boys I’ve never seen before, and jean shorts. “Hi, I’m Nycole. And you’re Noah.” Her dimple sinks into her cheek as she smiles at me.

I grin back at her as I shake her hand. “Yes, I am. It’s nice to meet you, Nycole.”

She gives me a slight nod before she steps back, replaced by her younger sister, whose eyes are almost as beautiful as Tatum’s. A pale shade of light green with a smidge of blue, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like them. Wearing a pink sequined skirt over black tights and a tank top with a ballerina on the front, she fans the skirt out while she curtsies. “I’m Kyndall. Hi, Noah.” She rises, sticking out her hand. Shaking it, I reply, “Hi, Kyndall. That’s a pretty skirt.” Mentally, I palm my face as Tatum laughs, still crouched down holding the smallest of the girls. I might kill her for bringing me here.

I watch as the little one whispers in Tatum’s ear. Tatum shrugs her shoulders and then whispers something back to her. The little one looks up at me with two of the biggest dimples I’ve ever seen caving in her cheeks and her brown eyes full of mischief. Hopping off of Tatum’s lap, her long, brown curls bounce as she skips to where I stand, holding her hand out the entire time she makes her way over to me. Once she arrives, she says, “Hi! I’m Rylie.” She looks back at Tatum, whose smile couldn’t get any larger, and then back to me. “Are you Tatum’s boyfriend?”

“Rylie!” Nycole yells, immediately covering her eyes with the palm of her hand as she mutters to herself. “So embarrassing.”

Kyndall just giggles.

And Rylie — well, Rylie’s waiting for an answer.
My
answer. With her hand still in front of her.

After glancing back at Tatum, who just shrugs her shoulders and laughs, I look back at Rylie and take her hand into mine.

Squatting down, I meet her at eye level, and signal for her to come closer. When she does, I lean into her and whisper, “Yes, she is. I think I love her actually, but don’t tell her that, okay? Our secret?” As I lean back, I’m met with her wide eyes and huge dimples. She lets go of my hand, only to stick her pinky finger in front of my face.

“Pinky-promise.” she whispers back. After hooking my pinky with hers, I rise up as she claps her hands together, squealing so loudly that my ears might be bleeding, then she takes off into the house.

The other two girls giggle as they run after their sister, leaving me alone with Tatum.

She narrows her eyes at me while she stands. Shrugging my shoulders, I raise my eyebrows and smile back at her. “It’s a secret. She pinky-promised.”

Looping her thumbs into her pockets, she walks over to me and knocks my shoulder with hers as she laughs. Continuing past me, she steps towards the house, replying over her shoulder.

“Yeah, well, candy
always
trumps a pinky-promise. I sure am glad I picked some up at the gas station.”