Wishful Thinking (Part 2)
We roamed around his parents' backyard, keeping our distance until we were ready to speak. Was it true? Did he hate me for what I did to him?
In the first installment
I was glad I decided to buy some checkered flannel shirts on my way through the last town. The nights were still cool, and the familiar fabric made me more comfortable.
I was standing in the Andersons’ backyard with a beer in my hand, chatting with people I barely recognized but who apparently knew me from when I was a kid.
I hadn't expected a crowd, but they were providing good cover. I had yet to set my eyes on William for more than a second. He was here, but he was avoiding me.
With my second beer empty, I headed to the outdoor bar fridge and grabbed another. I was looking for a place to set my empty when every nerve in my body detected him.
"I'll take that," William said and lifted the bottle from my hand. He pulled a box out from under the outdoor kitchen counter and slipped it in with the other empties.
"Thanks."
"Yeah, no problem." He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. "So, you're back."
"That would be what I'm doing here."
His brow dipped. "Don't be an ass."
"I'm not trying to be. Just didn't expect to be here in your yard."
"Not my yard anymore." He pushed off from the counter. "I grew up and moved out. While you were off doing your big city stuff, I was here making my own life without you."
Ouch.
I gripped the bottle tightly in my fist. "You're the one who changed your mind about college."
"You're the one who took off anyway and didn't fucking tell me when you were going."
Every surface of his gorgeous face gave way to anguish. I wanted to go to him.
"I'm sorry." I looked at my feet to avoid his expression of pain and want, and so many things I wasn't prepared to deal with. "We should have had one last summer together at least."
"I wanted more than that. You knew I wanted more than that."
I looked back up at him. "I needed to go."
"Why?"
Why? The answer rolled over me out of nowhere. "Because I was scared."
William stepped toward me. "Scared of me?"
I shook my head. "No. Scared of us." It was tumbling out of me now. Reasons and feelings I'd never fully addressed or admitted to myself. "I was scared of what we meant."
William reached forward and touched my wrist. "We meant love."
Tears streaked down my cheeks as I looked at him. "And that scared me. I didn't know what to do with what I was feeling for you. What kind of a future might we have together?" I scanned the groups of people dotted around the yard. "Here … in this small conservative town."
He brushed his thumb back and forth over my skin. "You thought people wouldn't accept us."
"I know how they are. I wanted you to come with me, where we could be open as a couple. I thought you wanted that too. And then you changed your mind. I thought maybe you didn't love me as much as I loved you. That you didn't want a life with me. If I'd hesitated, told you when, not left when I did, my heart would have convinced me to stay. Even if you didn't want me."
"Jeezus, Drew."
Two steps and he had me in his arms. I burrowed my face against his neck and inhaled the familiar scent of him. Onlookers would assume they were seeing two best friends embracing.
His warmth toward me meant so much more than that.
It felt like my heart restarted after a very long sleep.
"I've never stopped loving you," he whispered in my ear.
My heart surged, thundering, and my knees nearly betrayed me. I clung tighter to William to keep from slipping to the floor and weeping uncontrollably.
"Get me out of here," I said against his cheek.
