Instead of You(62)

Dear Cory Wallace,

Congratulations! On behalf of the faculty and staff at Central Florida University, it is with great pleasure that we inform you of your admission….

I didn’t need to read any more.

Kneeling down next to her, I placed my hand on her knee, hoping to break whatever trance she was in. It didn’t. In fact, for the next twelve hours my mother seemed nearly catatonic. She rocked in her chair, but wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t acknowledge anyone else in the room. When the sun went down, I’d gone to check on her and found her in her bed, still awake, but still silent.

McKenzie and Mrs. Harris eventually left. I think McKenzie wanted to stay, to help me with my mother, but Mrs. Harris told her, “Everyone needs some space.” I didn’t want to think about what would happen if she had caught on to us—if she’d somehow figured out we’d spent the night away together—but those words stuck with me, lodged themselves in the back of my mind, just something else to worry about. When she left, McKenzie wrapped her arms around my neck, hugging me, and I tried to hug her back in the most platonic way possible, knowing her mom was watching us, examining us. But what I wouldn’t have given for five minutes alone with her. Just five minutes to feel her and let her comfort me. To just hold her.

Over the next few days, it felt as though we were back at square one. We were on a cyclical loop of mom sleeping, eating, and then sleeping some more. In the middle of the night I’d hear her crying, and I’d check on her. But there was nothing I could do. I’d lost her to the grief again. Everyone was worried, but we were hoping she’d pull out of it again, just like she had before. We just didn’t need any more setbacks.

Unfortunately, each night got progressively worse.





Chapter Twenty-One


McKenzie


It was lunchtime, Tuesday, and I hadn’t had a moment alone with Hayes since we got back from Bellingham. He’d been dealing with his mom, and my parents both kept me away, afraid that in her grief Mrs. Wallace would lash out at me again.

I looked over my shoulder, stupidly paranoid that someone would see me walking toward the practice rooms and become suspicious. I made it into the equipment room, fairly confident no one had seen me enter, and stood next to the door with the lights off. I pulled out my phone to send a text to Hayes.

Can you meet me in the equipment room?*

It took an agonizing three minutes before he responded.

**I’ll be there in a few.**

Time stood still until I heard footsteps coming down the hall. I held my breath when the door opened. It would be easy enough to explain why I’d be in the room with the lights off; I could tell whoever it was I had a headache. But I was a terrible liar, so I hoped it was Hayes.

I saw the silhouette of his broad shoulders and long hair and let out a sigh of relief.

“Kenz?” he whispered.

“I’m here,” I replied quietly, standing but not moving. I wanted the door closed tightly behind him before I even attempted to move. The sliver of light that had leaked into the room disappeared as the door clicked closed, and I was immediately pulled into his arms. My hands twined in his hair that was hanging loose that day and I pressed my nose into his neck.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice raspy, full of emotion. “These past few days,” he started, but paused, squeezing me tighter. “All I’ve wanted was to have you by my side.”

His words shattered my already fractured heart. It pained me to be away from him, especially when I knew he was struggling, but it was obviously hurting him as well. “What can I do?” There was almost nothing to my voice; it was a strangled sound, like fear, anger, and regret squeezed through a funnel.

He pulled back at my words, his hands leaving my back and coming to my face. “You’re doing it. Right now. Just by being near me.” He brought his lips to mine, and even though the room was dark, my eyes closed. He walked me back until I was pressed against the wall, his tongue gently sweeping into my mouth, his hands sliding down my chest.

It had been a few days since we’d had sex, and I would have been lying if I’d said I hadn’t thought about it nearly every second since, but the way Hayes was kissing me in that darkened room was nothing like the way he’d kissed me in his bed. Before, he’d wanted to share something with me, to show me how much he loved me. But in that equipment room, with the lights off, and the sound of shoes on the linoleum just outside the door, it felt as though he were using me for a distraction. It took me only a moment to come to the conclusion that I was all right with it, that I was happy, even, to let him use me and my body to take his mind off everything else in his world that was troubling him.

I wasn’t sure if he could feel my acquiescence, or if he just didn’t care that we were just feet away from the very people who could turn his world upside down, but suddenly he became unapologetically intense. His kisses were harder, his hands groped with more force, and I found myself right in the middle of a storm of lust I’d never experienced before.

His knee pushed between my own, pressing my legs apart, while his hands continued to roam my body.

“Did you wear this for me?” he asked as his hand slid over the curve of my ass, right to the edge of the denim skirt I’d put on that morning. Of course, when I’d dressed I’d considered whether or not Hayes might like my outfit, but I never imagined this would be happening. However, that wasn’t the answer Hayes was looking for.