Chapter Eighteen
~Delaney~
He’s smiling and I wonder if he notices. It sends this electric sort of feeling through me. Like I’ve been shot through the heart with a lightning bolt, but it doesn’t hurt. It shocks me to life and makes me feel more alive than I ever have.
This feeling can’t be wrong. What I’m doing can’t be wrong if it makes him smile so pure. If it makes me feel like this. But I know that’s not completely true. I need to tell him. The words are there in my mouth and on my tongue all the time, but I can’t make myself push them out because I’m scared of losing him and scared of hurting him when all I want is for him to be okay. It might have begun as a hope of absolution for my family, but that’s not what it’s about anymore. It’s about the man standing in front of me and the warmth that spreads through me when I’m with him and the jolts he shocks into my heart.
“If you don’t mind being cheesy with me, I think the festival sounds fun.”
“I’ve never done cheesy before. Might as well give it a try.”
We walk to the car and this time I drive. It’s not hard to find because half the streets are closed down, directing all the traffic in the same direction. Luckily we find a parking spot quickly and head to the festival. It’s only midmorning, but it’s already busy. The air is crisp, but everyone’s walking around like us, bundled up, though they have steaming cups in their hands.
“It smells like apples,” I tell him. “I love the smell of apples. There’s something comforting about it.” I shiver, but then feel a sudden burst of warmth when Adrian puts an arm around me.
“I don’t want you to get too cold on me. I have plans for you later on today… though it might be fun to warm you up.”
Another laugh tumbles from my mouth. He chuckles, too, and I nuzzle closer to him as we walk. I love this side of him. That’s almost so carefree, even though I know it’s another mask for the pain inside. It feels real, though. I want it to be real.
“Do you have a childhood memory with apples?” he asks. It takes me a minute to remember that I’d just mentioned them.
“No…” A ghost of a memory floats into my head. “You know what? I never even thought about it, but I do.” It all starts to form in my brain and I can’t help but let it out. “I was about thirteen. My dad had been away working for over a week. Or we thought he was working. He traveled a lot and I always missed him…”
It had all been a lie. I hate missing him and knowing how much I loved him when none of it had been real. When he’d lived a double life and hurt all of us.
“Where was he?” Adrian asks.
“With his girlfriend.”
“I’m sorry.”
Not as sorry as he would be if he knew my dad and the same woman were in a car together, driving by his house a year later.
“What happened?” Part of me doesn’t want to tell him. Doesn’t want to share anything positive about my dad with Adrian because of what my father did to his family. But I want to talk about it. I want to open up with him whenever he asks because I don’t want there to be secrets between us. I’d like to find a way to reveal them all and for us to be okay.
“He came home and saw me sitting in the window watching for him. He didn’t even come in the house. He just called me out and we jumped in the car and he took me to the fair that had come to town and we ate caramel apples. He made me feel special. After him being gone, I wanted that time with him. We laughed and he told me about his trip and we talked about Maddox and trying to get him to play football again.”
At the time, I’d thought it was perfect. My best day. Yes, I’d been daddy’s girl for a while now and I’d always thought that was good. That it was okay, but now I hate that part of my past.
“It sounds like it was a happy time. What changed, Little Ghost? What ruined that day?”
My head snaps up to look at him. “How did you know?”
“You let your emotions into your words. I think you have a big heart that’s been bruised, but you’re better than me because you keep letting it beat. You let it get stronger. So tell me, who ruined your day. Who bruised your heart?”
I stop walking. There’s people all around us, but it feels like we’re the only two in the world. Everyone else manages to fade away and as I play his words in my head and as I feel his intense stare, I know there is absolutely no man in the world as beautiful as he is. Yes, he’s closed off and freely admits to using sex and drugs to hide from the world. Yes, when we first met he told me he wanted in my pants, and yet he makes sure I know we go at my speed. That I should never do something I don’t want to do for him. So despite his shortcomings, to me, he’s beautiful. His heart is more scarred than mine ever could be, but he cares. He might not know it, but he feels for people. It’s so easy to pretend to listen, but he really does. I don’t think anyone listens and really, really thinks about my words the way he has. Like each one of them is important.
He walks forward, which makes me walk backward and we’re suddenly leaning against a tree.
“Let me bandage your heart the way you did my hand.”
My eyes fill with tears. Who would have known this boy who is so hard on the outside could be filled with such beautiful words?
“My mom… she was angry when we came home. She’d been planning a special afternoon for them, but it was too late for them to go by the time we got back. She told him it was okay and smiled and hugged him, but when he went upstairs, she told me it was my fault. That I was always trying to get all the attention and that I was selfish. She said I ruined their day on purpose. I didn’t know, Adrian. I swear I didn’t.”
He pulls me to him. My arms feel at home around his waist, with his body so close to mine. His chin rests on my head, and his arms are around my shoulders.
“You went when your dad told you to. There was nothing wrong with that. If she said that to you, she didn’t know you. Not in the way that matters. Your heart beats so strong, I feel it against my chest. You make mine want to catch up, to match the rhythm.”
His words are too much. They’re everything and as much as they build me up, they break me down too. I do the only thing I can think to do, what I need to do, and close my mouth over his. It’s the first time I’ve been the one to kiss him and I can tell he’s holding off, letting me take the lead. I wish I could feel him, really feel him through all our clothes and jackets, but his lips are the perfect tease. The perfect prequel to Adrian and how he feels and what I know he can and will do to me later.
He moans and I think it’s probably the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. But then he’s pulling away. I want to grab him. Yank him closer and never let him go, but people are walking next to us now.
We find the source of the apple smell and it’s a booth with the longest line. We wait in it and people talk about how they make the best hot apple cider in the United States. Adrian chats easily with people in line around us. It’s a different side of him. He talks to them differently than he does Colt, Cheyenne, or me. He holds me against him as he does it, so I can’t see his face. I try and study the sound of his voice the way he seems to know mine, trying to gauge if it’s another of his masks or if for this moment in time he’s really opening himself up. If he’s really trying to pretend to be like everyone else.
When it’s our turn, he orders us both cups and we walk around, sipping it like all the locals do. There are booths and games. We play some, and he doesn’t vow to win me a stuffed animal like you always hear about. I think I love that about him. Love how real he is.
Most of the booths are made up of locals, crochet blankets on sale, handmade hats, gloves, and painted coffee mugs.
We look at everything. I know this can’t really be his idea of a good time, but he’s here and I love that. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with him right now.
The air starts getting colder and the pull to the hotel room and being alone with Adrian becomes stronger. “Do you want to go back now?” I ask him.