Letting You Know (11 page)

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Authors: Nora Flite

BOOK: Letting You Know
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She
was quiet, a hard silence that choked me. My hand fell to my hip, the
note crumbling before I let it fall.
I'm
so stupid, this was a terrible idea. Of course I have no chance with
her.

Turning,
I started to leave, thinking I'd escape the situation and save myself
some pride. It stung to believe I'd read my note to her, gotten no
reaction.

Her
fingers grabbed my sleeve, pulling me back a step. Confused, my body
twisted, finding her blue eyes staring so close. The anger was gone,
her lashes rimming pools of uneasy disbelief.


Wait,”
she breathed, skin prickling visibly. I noticed how cold she had to
be.


Let's
go inside,” I said softly.


No,”
she mumbled, shaking her head rapidly. “No, wait. I—your
note, I just... why didn't you just
tell
me?”


What?”
I blurted, brows shooting up to my hair line. “What do you
mean?”


I—I
like you Deacon, okay?” The red on her nose rivaled the color
on her cheeks. “But you should have told me how you felt, not
made me read it like that. That was... emotionless.”

Emotionless?
Is that what she thinks?

Blown
away by this revelation, it took me a minute to absorb her words.
“You like me, too?”


Yeah,”
she said, smiling shyly. I could tell she was having trouble looking
at me. “Yeah, I do.”

Thrilling
with joy at that fact, faced with the reality I had desired, I ran
into a mental wall that made me freeze.
She
likes me, but now what? Do I... should I...

Reaching
down, I cupped her cheeks, moving in for my first kiss.


Wait,”
she said abruptly, stepping back with her hands lifted. “Wait,
sorry. Um, can we take it slow? Is that okay?”

Blinking,
I rubbed my neck, laughing nervously. “Yeah, of course. Let's
just take it slow.”


Okay,”
she agreed, reaching out to hold my hand. I could feel how warm her
skin was. I didn't know if the dampness was from my sweat, or hers.

I've
got what I want,
I
thought, smiling down at her rosy face,
I
can handle taking it slow after all this.

I
can handle anything, now.

Six
Years Later

Chapter 6.

“Hey,” Leah said, pulling me out of my thoughts. We were
sitting upstairs on her temporary bed, luggage open and strewn about.


Sorry,”
I said, shaking my head, attempting to shift out of my fog of memory.
“I missed that.”

Kneeling
beside me on the creaking mattress, she lifted a fuzzy white sweater.
“I asked if this was good enough for meeting your grandparents
tomorrow. What's wrong? You really zoned out there.”


It's
nothing.” Reaching out, I stroked the front of the sweater,
feeling the soft texture. “That's fine, you shouldn't worry so
much though. My grandparents will like you no matter what you wear.”


You
say that,” she chided, tucking the clothing away. Something
must have been obvious in my face, hinting at my mood, because she
leaned in and sighed. “Is this about Bethany again?”

Gawking,
giving myself away, I finally deflated with a sour laugh. “Maybe.
Sort of. I don't know how to explain it.”


Try,”
she coaxed me, sitting on the bed so close our thighs touched. “I
saw her chatting with you at brunch. What—um, what were you two
talking about?”

How
she had hurt me terribly. How she warned me you'd break my heart.
Looking
away from her concerned face, how the lines of her forehead made deep
grooves, I took a breath. “Nothing important. I can't tell why
she's even bothering with me.”


What
do you mean?”


Well,”
I started, noticing how I was picking at the inside of my hand.
Clenching my fingers, I made myself stop. “When she broke up
with me, that was... that was it. She quit talking to me entirely. I
haven't had a word with her in over six months... until this
morning.”

Leah
leaned away, studying me carefully. “Back up, this has been
bugging me. I knew you guys split up, but... she was the one who left
you?


Did
you not know that?” I asked, my skin boiling like a jungle. The
cold outside sounded very tempting just then. “Yes, she was the
one that ended it.”

Her
eyes were watery, jittery. It was like she was struggling to look at
me, to face something that made her feel ill. “Maybe I
shouldn't be asking you about this. I guess I'm morbidly curious now,
though.” Her fingers coiled in her lap, so I grabbed them
gently.


Leah,
you don't need to hear this if you don't want to. This isn't exactly
what I was hoping our Christmas trip was going to focus on.”

The
sudden bark of a laugh she gave startled me. “You're right,
this is dumb. Besides, I can smell dinner downstairs. Your brother,
he's supposed to arrive soon, right?”

Nodding,
unable to ignore how her hand was trembling under mine, I reached out
and pulled her against me. “You don't need to pretend.”


I—pretend
what?” She muttered, stiff in my arms, her body falling
partially into my lap.


That
you're okay, I can tell this is all freaking you out.”

Leah
was silent, her heart thrumming against mine for several long
minutes. Eventually she went limp, giving in to my embrace, the wind
exploding from her lungs in an awkward exhale. “I won't lie.
Yes, this is... this is all really weird. Seeing her this morning at
church was strange, but not awful. It was just... at brunch, when I
saw you guys touching—”

My
gut reaction was to stop her. Instinct kicked in, lips pushing to
hers and stealing the end of her rambling worries.
Don't
think about that, please, Leah...
Mentally,
I felt anguish over the thought that I had hurt her. I tried to
imagine how I would have felt, watching her touch Owen from afar.

That
line of thought wasn't helpful, it only brought back the horrifying
memory of bloody fists and Leah's pale, unconscious face. Hugging her
harder, I heard her gasp.


Sorry,”
I whispered, pulling away, ashamed I had been too rough.


No,”
she assured me, eyes warm, inviting as she brushed her nose to mine.
“No, it's fine. You caught me off guard, is all.”

Adjusting
us, I snuggled her so the top of her head was in the crook of my
neck. “I don't want to talk about Bethany anymore. Is that okay
with you? Can this trip just be about us, and you getting to know my
family?”

Not
able to see her expression, I listened instead to her pulse. It was
shallow, vibrating like a flute on my skin. “I'd like that,”
she finally whispered, tightening her limbs around my torso.

This
is what I want. I don't care about Bethany, I don't want to see her,
or to remember her. None of that matters, not at all.

Closing
my eyes, I saw in my mind the melting heart I had traced with my
finger on the bedroom window last night. Oddly, it sent a sharp pain
up my shoulder blades.

I
need to know what this means... wanting to protect Leah, to keep her
safe from my own mistakes, my own messy past... Is this really...

Am
I really in love with her?

Something
slammed downstairs, dogs barking loudly. Surprised, Leah and I pulled
apart, untangling ourselves nervously. “What was that?”
She asked, her lips still deliciously tempting in their half-open
position.

Resisting
the urge to kiss her again, I stood, dusting off my pants. “I
think that was the sound of Nicholas arriving. He always slammed that
back door way too hard.”

Grinning,
Leah jumped up in a flash. “I guess we should go down and meet
him, then.”


Do
you want to meet
him
,
or the delicious food you've been smelling this whole time?”

Blushing,
she pushed me lightly, acting more offended than I could tell she
was. “Shut up, I really do want to meet him.” Pausing,
she shot me a sly glance. “And, I want to meet what your mom
has been cooking for hours, yes.”

Laughing,
I kissed the top of her head, hurrying out of the bedroom. Together,
we skipped down the stairs, the lightness in my body reminding me of
how I would jump down those steps as a child.

Everything felt... easier, in that moment. Knowing that Leah didn't
want to discuss Bethany took a weight off of me I hadn't even
understood before. I don't want to remember. I don't want to talk
about any of it.

And
now,
I
thought, rounding the corner into the kitchen where I could hear a
number of people chatting excitedly,
now
I won't have to.

Smiling,
I looked upon a room of familiar faces. My father, grinning, my
mother, hugging Nicholas while the corgis danced around his ankles.

And
there, standing beside him like she belonged among all of us, was the
person I seemed unable to escape.

Bethany
Sommer was in my house.

Instantly,
the air was thicker. I could sense the way all the eyes were on me,
watching my reaction and doing their best to do what my family was so
great at; pretending nothing was amiss.


Deacon,”
Nicholas said, slipping away from Mom, smoothing his short hair. He'd
always had slightly darker hair than mine, it made his extremely
green eyes much sharper, more electric.

Now,
those eyes that had always been so indifferent, so chill, were fixed
on me uneasily.

He
knows this isn't right,
I
realized, working hard through my daze to understand what was going
on. My mouth, dry as tinder, struggled to make words. “Hey,”
I said, not bothering to smile. “How are you?”


Good,”
he admitted, and I didn't doubt it. “Tired from the long drive,
mostly.”

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