#Rev (GearShark #2)(54)

The road stretching across their property was paved and well maintained. I drove slow across it so I could gaze at the open fields, tall grasses (yes, even coming out of the winter season), thick areas of tall pine trees, and a distant view of majestic mountains.

The speed I’d chosen was also of benefit to Drew. He needed all the time he could get.

Soon, a ranch-style house came into view. It was a big house, only one story so it sprawled out horizontally. It was a nice place with a natural stone exterior and wide porch with an arched cover over the double front door. On the cement porch were oversized planters filled with greenery that spilled over the sides and didn’t appear bothered that it wasn’t quite summer out. ‘Course, around here it didn’t matter. This was the South. It was sunny and bright and approaching eighty degrees.

There was no garage attached to the house. Instead, the cars were parked on a paved driveway that ran alongside the house instead of in front of it. There were two cars there, and my stomach twisted a little. Both his parents were here. Waiting.

I knew they had questions.

Drew literally called them up a few days ago and told them he was coming to visit. He didn’t offer much by way of explanation. While I knew they were excited to see him, parents wouldn’t be parents if they didn’t know when something was up.

I had a very strong suspicion this was the reason he suddenly hated looking at his phone. He didn’t want to have to try and explain via text or voicemail why he was coming. He just wanted to ignore his mother’s questions.

I didn’t say shit about it. When he powered down his phone and shoved it inside his duffle before we went through security at the airport, I pretended not to notice. He didn’t need me harping on him. He didn’t need me to tell him he was wrong or, hell, tell him he was right.

Who was I to say?

Drew got to deal with this the way he knew how. He got to feel whatever he wanted.

There was no right and wrong for this. Even if there was, I wouldn’t know what it was. I was here to back him up. I was here to validate him and remind him it was okay.

And if need be, I’d be here to protect him.

“Park over there,” he said, the sound of his voice almost startling against the silence. He gestured to a giant shed that could have possibly been considered a barn. It was shaped like one, with the traditional barn doors on the front. I imagined it was where they kept their lawn equipment and anything else a property this size needed. Basically, it was a detached garage.

I pulled in close to the building, driving right up onto the grass. I felt like maybe parking on the side where the car was out of sight from the house might give Drew a little bit of relief, make him feel they weren’t standing inside, staring out from the windows, watching and trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

I shut off the engine but left the keys in the ignition. Once I adjusted the baseball hat on my head (I knew it didn’t really shield my healing bruises, but it was an effort), I rested my head against the seat and stared out the windshield.

His hand reached for mine. He didn’t move or look at me, but he sought me out. I opened my fingers and turned my palm up. Drew’s hand slid home, entwining with mine.

“We used to play football in the field over there,” he said quietly, pointing through the windshield. “And that hill, just beyond over there”—he pointed again— “is where I used to race my modified Big Wheel down the slope.”

My heart squeezed. I could almost envision a small version of the guy holding my hand running through the grass with sunlight glinting off the blond in his hair. How carefree he must have been, how innocent.

I wanted to tell him we could just forget this. My fingers actually trembled with desire to turn over the ignition and put the car in reverse and leave this place.

But there was no going back.

There was no never mind or cancel button on the way we felt. Drew and I made a choice.

We chose to accept the decision our hearts made for us.

So even though I felt like running, even though my heart splintered when he reached for my hand for comfort, we were doing this. Once this was done, we would do it again with my family and then the entire world.

“I don’t want to disappoint them.” His quiet voice filled the car.

“I know.”

His eyes turned to me for the first time in what felt like hours. The blue was sort of icy, like maybe inside he was feeling cold.

No, not cold. Numb.

“I don’t want to disappoint you either.”

I made a choked sound and forced my body around to face him. My knee lifted, bending between us and falling over the cup holders in the center to make more room for my new position.

I cupped his jaw with one hand. “You will never disappoint me.”

“What if I do?” he whispered.

“I’ll love you anyway.”

He smiled. I rubbed my thumb along his jaw, lightly scratching over his stubble.

“I didn’t tell them I was bringing you,” he admitted, a grimace pulling at his features.

I drew back and pulled the keys from the ignition. “I know.” If he had, he would’ve had to explain why I’d be with him, and that was something he avoided until the very last possible second.

With a deep breath, Drew got out of the boring sedan we rented and reached into the back for his duffle. I did the same. Before we even hit the porch, the polished-wood door swung open, and a woman stepped out.