Put Me Back Together(65)

Tucking my head under his chin, Lucas said, “Do you know how hard it was for me to sit outside your door and listen to you crying for hours,” he said, “when all I wanted to do was hold you like this?”

I wanted to tell him that he could hold me forever if he wanted to, but the words stuck in my throat. I could only stare up at him mutely as he pressed his lips to my eyelids and my forehead and my cheeks, and when more tears began to fall, this time without my even realizing it, he kissed those away, as well.

“I know you don’t need a protector. You don’t need me to take care of you. But I need you to promise never to do that to me again.” He looked down at me, his eyes so full of pain I would have agreed to anything. “If you’re hurting, I need to be with you. I need to hold you. Last night…it almost drove me mad. I would have kicked the door down except I was pretty sure you were leaning against it.”

“I was,” I admitted.

“I don’t ever want to feel that way again,” Lucas went on. “You have to promise me you won’t lock me out again. Can you do that for me?”

Could I? Could Katie Archer, the girl who kept everyone out, the girl who prided herself on not needing anyone, ever, the girl who wore her solitude like a protective cloak, could she promise to let someone in? His request was so much larger than he knew, but I felt too spent to resist it. I wanted to give this to him. I wanted to let myself need him and be needed in return.

I wanted to let Lucas in.

“I’ll try,” I croaked. It was the most honest thing I’d ever said to him.

I worried that it wouldn’t be enough, but it earned me a small smile and the whisper of a kiss on my lips, so I guessed it was good enough for him, for now, anyway.

“Did you touch anything in there?” Lucas asked as I got up to finally make us that pot of coffee.

I shook my head once. Funnily enough, I’d almost forgotten about the mess in my room and what it meant. Remembering wasn’t pleasant.

“Good,” he said. “I’m going to make a call, and then I’m going to take you somewhere. You don’t have any plans today, do you?”

“No,” I replied as he walked toward the front door to go make his call in the hall.

“Just to be with you,” I whispered once he was out of earshot. “My only plan is to be with you.”

The words thrilled me as they came out of my mouth. It was like the first time I said a dirty word—so exciting, and yet still a little bit scary. Forbidden.

And most thrilling of all, I knew they were true.



A spring breeze blew through the car window, ruffling my hair, as we drove out of town. The snow had mostly melted away and brown grass stretched away from the highway to meet bare trees, their branches swaying. Coming from Vancouver, this year I’d experienced my first real winter—with snowstorms and freezing rain and icy streets, as promised—and I could already tell spring was becoming my favourite season in this part of the country. The wonderful release of being able to go outdoors without bundling up, to roll down the window, to wear shoes again, was intoxicating. If the world could start anew—leaves growing, plants waking up from their slumber, crocuses blooming—then maybe I could, too.

I looked over at Lucas as he stared out at the road. He’d been oddly quiet since we’d gotten into the car, which should have worried me, but it didn’t. A really determined part of me insisted I couldn’t doubt him every time he frowned, that I take my newfound trust in him seriously. He’d caught a glimpse of my demons and he hadn’t run away. It was more than I’d ever hoped for from him, from anyone. Of course, he still didn’t know the whole story, but I was trying to put that out of my mind.

“Who’d you call?” I asked as we passed the empty fields of a farm.

“Eric,” Lucas answered. “I had to ask him if I could keep his car for the day…and tell him I never returned it last night.

“Did he ask why?” I said as I gazed out at the barren landscape. Though I trusted Lucas not to judge me for spending the night weeping, I didn’t trust anyone else. I wondered what he’d told his roommate about last night. The idea than anyone else might know about the chaos in my bedroom made my stomach knot.

“Why I stayed over last night?” Lucas said. “He didn’t have to ask. Eric knows how I feel about you.”

“He does?” There was something exciting about knowing that Lucas liked me so much he’d even told his friends about it, but at the same time I couldn’t picture that scene. Had he admitted his feelings for me during a gossip session over margaritas at the local bar? Or had he whispered it across the room when they were all lying in their beds, confiding secrets under cover of dark? I realized I had no idea how guys interacted with one another when they were alone.

Then it occurred to me what “staying over” usually meant.

I said, “So he probably thinks we…” Though we’d been headed in the general direction of sex the night before, I still didn’t have the nerve to finish the sentence.

“Eric doesn’t think much,” Lucas reassured me, “so I wouldn’t worry about it.” Seeing the frown of worry on my face he took his hand off the wheel and pulled a lock of my hair playfully. “You should stop thinking, too! Besides, we’re almost there.”