Second Chance Summer (Chance Series, #1) (14 page)

BOOK: Second Chance Summer (Chance Series, #1)
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CHAPTER 9

 

The silence stretches for an age between us. Reese’s arms wrapped around me so tightly feel like a protective wall between me and the house that just shattered everything I’ve believed for the last six years.

I breathe in deeply, the rich, woodsy scent of him filling my nose. It’s so familiar. He’s so familiar. Everything about Reese
feels
right.

His lips press against my cheek, and I turn my face without thinking. My mouth brushes his, and he pauses. He pulls his face back from me, his eyes boring into mine. I sit here, just watching him, looking at him. His mouth opens slightly, but he closes it again, dipping his head.

His lips are warm as they meet mine – properly this time. My eyes flutter shut as I grip his shirt, needing to hold onto him. He sucks lightly on my bottom lip, and he’s all I can focus on. His hand creeps under my shirt, flattening against the skin on my back, and I pull myself closer to him.

“Let me take you away,” he whispers against my mouth.

“Away?”

“From here. Even if it’s just for a day, a night, or the weekend. Let me take you away, Kia.”

“We can’t just pack up and leave,” I reply, opening my eyes to his.

“Sure we can.” He shrugs, holding the back of my head. His thumb rubs my neck tantalizingly. “We get in the truck; I start it up, and then I take you to a place where no one here can find you. No one will be able to bother you or hurt you, and I can help make it better.”

I smile sadly. “I don’t think anyone can make this better, Reese. Not even you and your magic charm.”

“But I can try,” he insists. “Let me try. I don’t ever wanna see you like this again. It’s breakin’ my damn heart to see you so broken, but this ain’t about us. It’s about you. Shit, it’s always about you, but I can’t see you hurting like this anymore. I need to see that beautiful smile on your face again.”

“Where would we go?”

“Anywhere. We’ll go wherever you wanna go. You wanna go to Vegas? We'll go. Back to New York? Say the words. Hell, baby, I'll hire a rocket to take you to the moon if that's what you really want.” He smiles a little.

“The moon is a little far-fetched,” I mutter. “Really, the beach would be enough, but we can’t just up and leave. We have to tell someone.”

“The whole point of this is so no one can find you,” he reminds me, resting his forehead against mine. I raise my hand and sink my fingers into his thick, wavy hair that isn’t spiked for once.

“What if we get lost?” I tease.

“Kia,” he whispers, blowing on my lips slightly. “If it meant I was lost with you and never had to share you with anyone else, I’d deliberately get us lost.”

“That doesn’t give me a whole lot of confidence in your sense of direction.”

“But you trust me, right?”

“I…” I pause, dropping my eyes. He pulls back.

“Look at me.” I shake my head. “Kia. Look at me.”

I raise my eyes slowly.

“Now don’t just look at me. See me. You say your lyrics are the words your soul is too afraid to say-”

I swallow. “You remembered.”

“Of course I remembered. It’s important to you, so by default, it’s important to me. Enough.” He repositions us so I’m directly in front of him, both of us on our knees. He places a hand on each of my cheeks, our faces level. “Your lyrics are the words your soul is too afraid to say. My eyes are the window to the heart that’s on fire for you, and only you. Look at me. See me for what I am, and believe me, Kia. Believe it. Really believe it, beautiful, and trust me. Trust that I’ll never let you hurt this way again if I can help it.”

I do. I look at him, and I really see him. I see the little cows lick in his hair he usually tries to hide with hair products. I see the tiny freckles dotting across his nose. I see the indents in his cheeks from his little dimples. I see his eyes, the hazel-brown color with flecks of gold thread throughout the irises. I see everything he’s been trying to tell me since I returned to Harlan Grove.

The hope. The dreams. The wishes. The memories. The pain.

The love.

I shake, my heart beating frantically against my ribs. I rest my hand on top of his on my cheek, and he threads our fingers together, lowering them. He puts my palm flat against his chest, over his heart, and I remember.

 

“Feel it,” he’d said as we laid under the stars.

“Feel what?”

“This.” He took my hand and put it over his heart. I could feel it pounding under my fingers, trying to break out. In the silence of the night, I could hear it, the erratic, booming beat of an African drum.

“Crazy beats,” I whispered, looking into his eyes.

“That’s because you make me crazy,” he replied. “It beats for you.”

 

“Crazy beats,” I whisper, my eyes fixed on his.

“It still beats for you, Kia,” he whispers back. “Every day, every beat, it’s all for you.”

I shuffle forward so we’re nose to nose and take a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

“Let’s go?” he repeats, his lips curving into a smile.

I nod, my nose brushing his. “Let’s go. Anywhere. Harlan Grove and all its crap will still be here when we get back, right?” He nods this time. “So let’s go.”

“Anywhere?” he clarifies.

“Anywhere.”

 

~

 

Reese stops me before I get in the truck, putting his free hand on the side of my face. I look up at him questioningly. He bends his head and kisses me gently, melding his lips to mine. I reach onto my tiptoes slightly, his lips soft and smooth.

“In,” he demands, moving behind me and settling his hands on my waist. He boosts me in, and I glance at him over my shoulder, smiling slightly.

“I can climb into a truck, Reese,” I repeat the words I’ve said to him so many times.

“I know.” He smirks, shutting the door. He walks around the truck and gets in next to me. “But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop helping you. You can wipe your own tears, but if I have my own way, I’ll be there to do that too.”

I tuck my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. “Reese.”

He backs out of the driveway and shakes his head. “No arguin’, Kia. This weekend, it’s about you. This weekend, out of this town...” He looks at me sideways, turning onto the road that leads to the interstate. “This weekend, you’re mine again. Properly. That might change when we get back here, but I need you, and you need me just as much. Don’t fight it, all right? Just let it happen.”

I don’t blink as I look at him. I don’t move, save for the movement of the car as he turns a corner.

“I never said I was gonna fight it, Reese,” I say quietly, honestly. “I wasn’t gonna fight it at all.”

And that’s the damn honest truth.

 

~

 

“Where are we?” I mutter in a sleepy voice. I stretch my legs out, crying out with the ache there.

“Are you all right?” Reese spins in his seat.

“Cramp,” I grumble, massaging my calf. “Your seats aren’t comfy to sleep in.”

“I don’t think they were made for sleepin’, baby.” He laughs.

“Shut up.” I rub my eyes, sitting up straight. “Where are we?”

“My aunt’s beach house in Fort Raine.”

“Won’t she be here?” I raise an eyebrow at him.

“She’s in Mexico with her new toy boy. This house is empty for the next two weeks.”

I nod slowly, looking around at the paneled house. It’s too dark to determine the color of it, but the soft glow from a light on the wraparound porch makes it look a pale blue. Either way, with the perfectly kept flower boxes at the windows, it looks like the perfect place to get away.

Reese opens my door and helps me out before grabbing my guitar and bag. “There should be a key under that flowerpot there.” He nods toward a large pot next to the front door. I climb up and look under it, finding the small gold key and inserting it into the door.

“Wait; we can be here, right?” I say quietly before I turn it.

“Yeah. Aunt May said I could use it before she left.”

I nod again and push the door open. The pristine little house is, well, pristine. There isn’t a speck of dust. Ornaments and trinkets adorn the walls and shelving, and a bird wind chime hangs in the window to my right.

“Come on.” Reese puts the guitar down and tugs on my hand. “I’ll show you around tomorrow. Let’s get some sleep.”

I raise an eyebrow in amusement

“Yes, I mean sleep.” He grins and leads me upstairs. “I used to stay in this room when we came down as kids. It’s seaside themed – I know, cliché as hell – but it has the best view in the house. You probably wanna get changed first, so the bathroom is just across the hall.” He hands me my bag, and I smile as I take it, turning to the door he points at.

The tiny white room is accented by a bright red floral theme. It’s so different to the hallway it almost takes a minute for my eyes to adjust. I change quickly into a tank top and shorts and brush my teeth in the oversized mirror before heading back to the bedroom.

I push open the door and cross the room, nudging the covers aside so I can climb into bed next to Reese. My stomach flutters even though it’s not the first time we’ve shared a bed, and secretly, I hope I get butterflies every time I slip into a bed with him.

Reese looks down at me, smiling lopsidedly. I gaze up at him, and my lips curve upwards a little. He drops his head from its resting position on his hand and touches his lips to mine, his hand creeping across my stomach to my back and under my shirt.

He holds me to him, and I grip his arm, digging my fingers in. His tongue runs along the seam of my lips, and I open to him, letting him slip inside. Our tongues mingle together, and oddly, he tastes like toothpaste.

My body pushes against his as I strive to get closer to him. My leg slides between his knees, and I can feel him harden against my thigh. His hands hold me flush against him, and my fingers move up to tangle in his hair. I wriggle slightly. A groan escapes his lips, and I feel it rumble through my body.

“Kia,” he mutters, kissing along my jaw. My breathing picks up speed at the husky tone in his voice. My heart pounds and my lower stomach muscles clench as he slips a hand under my head, tilting it back. His lips make their way down my neck to my collarbone. Reese dips his tongue into the indent there, sucking lightly on my skin. I gasp, tightening my entire body as each little tug of his mouth against my skin sends tremors through me. My back arches when he kisses along my shoulder, but they gradually peter out.

“Why did you stop?” I whisper, looking at him uncertainly as he lays his head next to mine.

“Because after tonight,” he whispers back. “You should just be held.”

I rake my fingers through his hair. “I want it, Reese.”

“You think I don’t, baby? You think I don’t wanna flip you onto your back, rip those clothes off of you, and sink myself so far into you we’ll forget where I end and you begin?” I swallow, my eyes widening. “Because I do. I want to kiss every inch of your skin. I want to feel your muscles tighten as you come and then I want to taste every bit of it. But not tonight. Tonight isn’t about any of that – it’s about me holding you so tightly you’ll wake up tomorrow morning believing I’m never gonna let go.”

He kisses me softly, and I slide my arms down and around his back. My cheek rests against his shoulder and his against the top of my head. His fingers comb through my hair, soothing me, and I let my eyes close.

 

~

 

I wake to the smell of pancakes. Pancakes?

I roll over, stretching, and remember where I am. I’m not in Harlan Grove. I’m in Fort Raine, in Reese’s aunt’s beach house. No Mom, no Dad. No lies, no pain.

Just Reese.

I climb out of bed and run my fingers through my hair in a half-hearted attempt at brushing it. I make my way to the stairs and pad down them, my bare feet silent against the polished wood surface. When I reach the bottom I look around, searching for the kitchen. My nose leads me – the smell of chocolate and blueberries combined with the pancakes too intoxicating to ignore.

I lean against the kitchen doorframe, and a smile creeps onto my lips at the sight before me. Reese is standing in front of the cooker, shirtless, with his jeans hanging low on his hips. My eyes trawl up his back to his tattoo, and I follow the outline of it until I reach his face. He’s frowning a little and his lips purse as he reaches to the side.

“Shit!” he mutters, dropping chocolate chips all over the floor.

I laugh, covering my mouth with my hand. He jumps and turns to me. His face breaks into a grin.

“How long have you been there?” he asks, bending down and sweeping them up.

“Long enough,” I tease, looking at the floor. “What did the chocolate chips ever do to you?”

“Oh, ha ha.” He laughs. “I didn’t grab the packet properly, all right?”

I smile, walking over to him. Three plates are on the kitchen side, steaming. Two have both blueberry and chocolate chip pancakes on, and the other holds some that look a bit…

“They’re a bit burnt.” I poke the charred mess.

“They were my first attempt.” He sounds like he’s trying not to laugh at himself. “Shit, I’m a mechanic, Kia, not a chef.”

I smile up at him. “Apparently not. Where did you get all this stuff?”

“I went to the store early. I wanted to make your favorite breakfast.”

“How do you know my favorite hasn’t changed?”

“Because you can’t keep your eyes off the pancakes.” He laughs again, reaching around me for the plates. He kisses the corner of my mouth, picks them up and turns. I spin, watching him set them on the table.

“Okay, you win.” I sit down on the chair he pulls out for me. “They are my favorite.”

“I know.” He smiles a little, sitting opposite me. “Whenever we went to the diner after we’d been out all night, you always ordered these.”

“Hm.” I smile, tilting my head to the side. “So I did.”

Reese winks, shoveling a mouthful of pancake in his mouth. I put a smaller piece in mine and choke it down. Reese is looking at his plate with his eyes squinted, and his lips turned up in disgust. He chews slowly, and I’d imagine I look exactly the same as he does.

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