The Fear of Letting Go Page 5

  I look around at all my friends and simply cannot imagine my life without them. They've become the family I never had growing up. A stable support group that I know would do anything to help me if I asked. Penny and Mason sit across from me, a full plate of food resting precariously on her stretched belly. Leigh Anne is sitting on Knox's lap drinking a beer, the fire making her long blond hair flash gold in the light. Jo, Knox's cousin, is the only loner like me. I've never seen her with a guy, but the way she stares longingly at the other couples sometimes leads me to believe she wouldn't mind being paired up.

  As for me, I'm in no rush to become part of a couple.

  I like the stability of good friendships, but when love becomes part of the equation, life gets complicated fast. I watched my mother drown in her relationships, never really able to pull her head above water. I don't want to be like her. In fact, most of my choices in life are guided by her mistakes. I think of my mother's choices, and then try to do exactly the opposite.

  My brother hasn't stopped calling, and I'm scared to know the reason why he's being so diligent this time. He either needs money and thinks I have some to give, or something has gone terribly wrong back home. Either way, I don't want to be a part of it.

  Headlights shine on the trees around us as someone pulls up the winding dirt road to Knox's lake house. My heartbeat races, knowing there's no one else it could possibly be. I hadn't realized Preston was coming tonight, but the moment I see him walk around the corner of the house, my mouth goes dry and my cheeks flush. Suddenly, the fire feels entirely too hot and uncomfortable.

  “There you are,” Penny says. “I was wondering if you were going to make it over here tonight.”

  He stares directly at me as he says, “I wouldn't have missed it.”

  “How did the big party go yesterday?” she asks as he joins us around the fire. “I can't believe I missed my first spring break blowout. You'll have to tell us all about it.”

  “It wasn't the same without you guys there,” he says.

  He leaves it at that, but I know the truth. Leigh Anne told me he left the party early and showed up at my place with a six pack. I avoid his eyes, not wanting him to know that I know. I've already spent too many hours today thinking about what might have happened if I had been home. Would I have turned him away? How many times can I possibly say no before the tension between us boils over and I can't resist him anymore?

  But saying yes, and letting him into my life as anything more than a casual friend, would be like standing up and walking straight into the fire, letting it consume me like that plate. A flash of hot, white light, and then nothing left.

  When I dare to look up, I find his eyes on me. He lifts the corner of his mouth into a small smile that I try my damnedest not to return. Why does he have to be so gorgeous? So completely irresistible? I wonder what it would be like to have that mouth on me.

  As if to cool the heat building in my nether regions, a large, juicy drop of rain plops onto my nose. I look up and several more raindrops fall onto my forehead and into my hair. Two seconds later, thunder rumbles and the bottom drops out of the sky. Leigh Anne squeals and grabs Knox's hand. Mason and Preston help Penny out of her seat and together, we all make a run for the covered porch on the backside of the cabin. We're drenched by the time we make it, and we all stand there laughing as the fire turns to smoke and ash.

  “You really know how to make an entrance, don't you buddy?” Knox says, punching Preston playfully on the shoulder.

  “Look at this rain,” Jo says. “It came out of nowhere.”

  “I knew it was supposed to storm later this week, but it was supposed to be clear tonight,” Leigh Anne adds.

  “Spring in the South,” I say. “You just never know what to expect.”

  “What should we do?” Penny asks. “Got any board games or anything inside? I'm not ready to go home.”

  “You don't want to be driving in this anyway,” Preston says.

  “True,” Knox says. “Come on in. Joey, see if you can find any of our parents' old games.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Jo now?” she asks.

  Knox laughs. “You've been Joey my whole life,” he says. But when she narrows his eyes at him, he shrugs. “I promise to try.”

  “Thank you,” she says.”

  We all leave our shoes and wet socks on the porch and pile into the cabin. I gasp as I see the inside for the first time in several months. We usually just hang out by the lake when we come here, since a good portion of the cabin was destroyed in a fire many years ago. But wow, Knox has really been working hard to restore the old place. I'm completely awestruck at the level of detail he's put into the restoration.

  “Knox, this place looks unbelievable,” I say. I run my hand across the smooth cherry banister of the staircase. An intricate rose pattern is carved into the post at the bottom of the stairs. “Did you do all this by hand?”

  “Yes,” he says, smiling. “Do you like it?”

  “It's absolutely gorgeous,” I say. “I can't believe you've done all this in just a few short months.”

  “He's been thinking about trying his hand at flipping houses,” Leigh Anne says. “Penny is helping him figure out the details of the business side of things, and we've been going around on weekends looking for a good starter property.”

  “Flipping houses?” Preston asks. “What does that entail?”

  “Mostly it's just finding a property that has a lot of potential, but needs a lot of work. Then I'd go in and fix it up myself in my spare time, hoping to turn around and sell it for a good profit.”

  “That sounds really cool,” Preston says. “I'm impressed.”

  “Now that Dad's bar is back in the black and business is picking up, you should have a lot more time on your hands if you want it,” Jo says.

  “I still plan on working at the bar, too,” Knox says. “So don't go hiring my replacement just yet.”

  Jo elbows me. “I've been trying to talk your buddy Colton into coming to work for us. We could really use the extra help now that things are going better for us. He'd make a hell of a lot more money at Rob's than he does over at Brantley's, I'm sure,” she says. “He doesn't seem to want to budge, though. Word is he's got the hots for one of the servers over there, if you happen to know anything about that.”

  I blush and look down at my bare feet on the smooth wooden floors. I glance up at Preston and his jawline is tense. Is he jealous?

  It's no secret Colton and I had some fun together once upon a time, but I wouldn't say he has the hots for me. Not enough to turn down a better job.

  “I'll talk to him if you want,” I say. “I'm sure he has some other reason for not wanting to jump ship. Trust me, there's nothing going on between us.”

  I don't even know why I felt the need to say it, but Preston looks so jealous, I wanted to reassure him I wasn't seeing someone else. Which, considering the fact that I just turned him down, is completely ridiculous. Why do I care if he thinks I'm seeing someone?

  But the knots in my stomach tell me I do care.

  “Either way, we are going to need to hire someone soon, if you hear of anyone looking,” Jo says.

  “Look what I found,” Leigh Anne calls from the living room. She's holding up a box for the game Twister.

  Everyone groans, but joins in. Penny plants herself on the couch and plays referee while the rest of us make fools of ourselves, tangling our bodies into ridiculous positions. We laugh and play for hours, my body lighting up any time I find my hand touching Preston's or my body pressed against his. By the third game, I'm exhausted and my cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

  I find my way to the kitchen to get a glass of water, and when I come back, I lean against the wall in the corner, watching them and thinking just how lucky I am to have found them all.

  And just how much I'm going to miss them when the time comes.

  Chapter Nine

  Preston

  I've been trying
to get Jenna alone all night, but any time I sit next to her or strike up a conversation, she creates some excuse to get up or talk to someone else. I wonder if my terrible attempt at asking her out has completely pushed her away at this point.

  Defeated, I say my goodbyes and decide to head back to my place. I plan to take a very cold shower and drink some very strong bourbon.

  The rain has stopped, but my Escalade slips and slides over the fresh mud like it has a mind of its own. I'm about five hundred yards from the paved road when the wheels slide to the left and begin to spin aimlessly.

  I put the vehicle in reverse and press hard on the gas, but the damned thing only sinks deeper into the mud.

  I try everything I can think of, from turning the wheel, to going forward or back, but after a couple of minutes I have to face the fact that I am stuck. I slam my hands against the steering wheel and pull out my cell phone, but I have no service out here in the woods. Dammit. This is just not my freaking night.

  I climb out of the car and survey the damage, but let's face it, I have no idea how to get myself out of this mess. My only choice is to walk the half mile back to Knox's house and ask for a lift back into town. After just a few steps, my shoes and jeans are coated with mud.

  I'm half afraid the stuff is going to swallow me whole before I can get to Knox's cabin, when headlights come around the corner.

  Jenna's truck sails past me, stops, and then slowly backs up. She rolls her window down and her eyes dip to my muddy jeans.

  “Car trouble?” she asks.

  “I got stuck,” I say, pointing back up the road toward my car.

  “What? Surely you can't be saying my beat up old Ford is safer out here than your fancy ride,” she teases, her eyes glimmering in the dim light.

  The irony is not lost on me, but I'd rather debate it from the cab of her truck.

  “Can I get a ride into town?”

  “Sure,” she says, laughing. “Hop in.”

  I walk around the front of the truck, cursing as my shoe literally disappears into the mud. I try to lift my foot, but the shoe stays right where it is. I have to bend over and stick my hand deep into the sludge to retrieve it, so now my hand and arm are covered too.

  Jenna's laughing as I climb into the truck.

  “You should see yourself,” she says.

  I try to act angry that she isn't taking pity on me, but her laughter is contagious. “Next you'll make some joke about me being a stick in the mud,” I say. “I'm sure I'll never live this down.”

  “Probably not,” she says. She bites her bottom lip and damn, she looks so good, I can't stop staring at her.

  Tension builds in the air between us. She looks away first, readjusting herself on the seat and clearing her throat.

  “Where are you headed?” she asks as she pulls onto the main road. “Back to your apartment? Or back to your parents' to pick up one of your spare cars?”

  She tries not to smile, but I can see she's incredibly amused.

  “It's still early,” I say hopefully, not quite ready to give up on the idea of us. “I'd be up for hanging out some more if you aren't too tired.”

  “Early?” she asks. “It's midnight.”

  “It's spring break,” I say. “Where's your sense of adventure?”

  I really don't want this to end with her dropping me at my apartment in ten minutes and speeding off. I know that if she would just give me a chance, there could be so much more between us.

  She glances over at me and licks her lips nervously. Her hands grip the steering wheel so tightly I can see her knuckles turning white. Do I really make her that uncomfortable?

  “Is that some kind of a dare?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Why do you want to hang out so much?” she asks. “You've got a bajillion friends in this town.”

  “I want you,” I say, which makes her squirm in her seat. “We're friends, right?”

  She lets the air out of her lungs in a long whoosh. “We are friends,” she says.

  Yes, but I want more. Why is that so hard to say? Why am I so scared to just, put myself out there with her? When we're alone together there's tension and desire, but she's either denying it, or I'm reading her completely wrong.

  “You really don't think there's something here?” I ask, my heart thumping against my ribs.

  She bites her lower lip, and even in the darkness of the truck, she's so beautiful it takes my breath away. God, what I wouldn't give to touch her. I want to be so much more than friends, and she damned well knows it.

  “What exactly are you saying, Preston Wright?”

  “I'm saying I want to hang out with you, Jenna Lewis,” I say back. “What's so scary about that?”

  She shrugs and leans back against the seat, finally loosening her grip on the steering wheel. “It's not the hanging out that scares me.”

  “What is it then?”

  She doesn't answer. She just keeps her eyes locked on the road, the smile gone from her face. We've both been dancing around this attraction for way too long, and I know I'm running out of chances with her.

  “I can't stop thinking about you,” I say, laying my cards on the table. “I'm sorry if that seems scary to you, but it's the truth. You haunt me. I can't sleep, for thinking about you, Jenna. You're different from any other woman I've ever known, and I know there's something more between us. I think you feel it, too. I've resisted it for about as long as I can, and if you don't at least give me a chance, I may never sleep again.”

  She laughs, and this time there's no hiding the wide smile that lights up her entire face.

  “Come on,” I say. “One night. If you don't have a good time, we chalk it up to bad timing or whatever. But at least give me this one chance.”

  “Well, I would hate to be responsible for the town's golden boy dying from insomnia,” she says. She takes a long breath in and out. “Okay, one night. Just as friends. All I was planning to do was go open up a couple of beers and veg out in front of the TV, anyway. What do you want to do?”

  “I'm up for anything,” I say. “What do you want to do?”

  She shakes her head. “Now, see, I thought maybe you had some grand plan already worked out,” she says.

  I swallow. She's going to make me work for every inch. “We could head to the Marina,” I say. “The yacht is docked and we could hang out there for a while. We have tons of movies or we could shoot some pool. Whatever you want.”

  “I've avoided that yacht for a reason, in case you haven't noticed.”

  “We could go back to my place,” I say, wishing I had taken more time to think this through or plan something fun.

  “I have a better idea.” She parks the car and looks over, mischief gleaming in her eyes. “Want to get high?”

  I nearly choke on my words. “What? Jenna, I don't—”

  “Stop,” she says with a laugh. “That's not what I meant, so don't have a heart attack on me.”

  She points out the front window and raises an eyebrow.

  Confused, I lean forward and look out the window, noticing our surroundings for the first time. We're parked at the edge of town by the old Fairhope water tower.

  Understanding sinks in, and my eyes widen.

  “Wait, you don't mean...”

  “Yes, I do mean,” she says with a smile. “You're not chicken are you?”

  “At first, I thought you—”

  “I don't do drugs, Preston,” she says. “I would have thought you'd have realized that about me by now.”

  I can't even feel relief at the no-drugs comment, because now my heart is pounding from the thought of having to climb this water tower. How high up does she want to go?

  “Is it even safe to go up there?”

  “Perfectly,” she says, opening the door of her truck. “As long as you don't fall off.”

  Chapter Ten

  Preston

  “Don't tell me you're really too scared to do this,” she says. She reaches into the back of her
truck and grabs two beers. She shoves them in the back pockets of her jeans. “After all that talk of wanting to hang out with me, you're going to let a little thing like a fear of heights get in your way?”

  I swallow a thick lump of fear and get out of the truck. “Hang out, yes. Climb an old water tower and fall to my death? Not so much.”

  She laughs and grabs my hand. The simple, spontaneous touch sends a shot of adrenaline straight through me.

  “I won't let you fall,” she says.

  “That's very sweet,” I say. “But considering I probably outweigh you by a hundred pounds, I don't think you can keep me from falling.”

  She stops and turns to face me, but doesn't let go of my hand. “If you're really that scared, I'm not going to force you to go. You're welcome to sit down here by yourself for a while, if you want. I'm going to go up and enjoy the view.”

  I take a deep breath and look at the metal rungs of an old ladder running up the side of the tower. It's so high, my palms sweat just thinking about it.

  “I don't know,” I say. I want to spend time with her, but I have always had a hard time with heights, and this is extreme. “Why don't we just put the tailgate down on the truck and hang out here? Or drive over to the beach?”

  She shakes her head. “You're all talk, aren't you?”

  “What's that supposed to mean?”

  “The other night when you came into that bar, you were telling everyone how tired you are of your life. The same dates. The same parties. Always doing the same things over and over without any real sense of adventure,” she says. She looks up at the water tower. “Well, here I am, offering you a little adventure, and you're too scared to even give it a try.”

  I inhale, my eyes locked on her face and that mischievous look in her eyes. She's testing me.

  “There has to be something else we can do that doesn't involve climbing thirty stories on a water tower that's been out of commission for fifty years,” I say with a nervous laugh. “This is dangerous.”