Giving In: The Sandy Cove Series (Book 1) (21 page)

Her words knock me down like a tornado, and I’m pretty sure that kiss hit me to realize what this really is.

Harlow is my reality.

Damn it! Why is it that I was so blind not to see it before. Too close-minded, too quick to shut it all down.

Harlow, Harlow… Harlow.

Harlow is my warmth from the cold, and the food when I’m hungry. She is the light in my dark, the patch to the hole that’s inside my heart. In this crazy life I live, how can one person make me feel all the things I do? Before I met Harlow, I was a shell. I was just going through the motions for pleasure, not really feeling, just existing. Running through my life, or running from it, but when I see her on those mornings, by the dock so sweetly sitting there, waiting for me, her vulnerability slipping away day by day, I know that it’s where I belong. In her presence. Anticipating the time when I can be near her, close to her, breathing in her smell, her touch mere inches from me, every morning, every day, working its way into my soul. A soul that really didn’t work. A man on the outside. Inked flesh, wounded by so much, but she heals that. She believes in me, she believes I have a soul, she believes I’m worth something. To me, that’s more pleasure than I could never get from some random fuck I bring home from a bar. A year ago, she showed me pleasure, made me come so hard and fast, wanting that again in my mind a thousand times over after that night, but not realizing that the feeling she gave me was what I wanted again from her and more.

Was I trying my damnedest to fill that void over the course of the past year with other women because what I felt for her that night in that bathroom bar was something more that sex? Was there something deeper in those eyes when I looked into them? I played that night over and over again in my head, just thinking I’m a young guy who scored one night, experimenting with some uninhibited nature.

No, God damn it. That’s not it. It’s not that. If it was, I would have just forgotten all the details that made it real. I remember her soft skin, the way her thighs felt against my hand, the silkiness of her hair. She smelled like sugar, all sweet and tasted like it just as much. The way her lips felt on mine, not caring who was beyond that door. How her body reacted as I made her come, the pulsating way she trembled, the warmth that I felt all over my body when she did. I didn’t fucking forget it like I did with who knows how many others I’ve had between that night and now.

And I know that there’s something real I’m feeling. I knew it when I kissed her today. That feeling returned. I was just too caught up in the whole excitement of it all last year to truly know, to truly figure out that she’s what I want, what I need. I lied to Bella and Tony back in that room when I said I didn’t want what they have, ‘cause guess what, I do. I want Harlow. I want her like I want my next breath.

How the fuck did I come to this conclusion?

But how do I convince her that that night was more than sex, more than just some hookup. How do I convince her to give in to it? Give into the feelings, ‘cause God knows she’s the one who has made me give in. Harlow. She cracked this shell that’s been around me for so long. I’ve fought in wars, faced death, seen death, built up a wall of hardness around myself, and she broke it. Crushed it to the ground. I’m not the man I was, and she’s the reason. I feel safe and secure around her. Two things I’ve never had in my life. I’ve never given in to the whole soulmate thing. To me, it was nonexistent. A fable, something made up in a fairytale. I’m still not one hundred percent convinced of it, but I don’t think I can go on another second without finding out the truth behind it. I wonder if she felt something when we kissed. Did she feel that electric spark, the current running through us? How her body molded into mine. She couldn’t deny that… Right?

I’ve never done this before. Try and figure out if someone feels the way I do. Girls fall in love with me all the time.

See, that’s a lie. They fall in love with my body, my face, the way I make them feel. I’m a puppet on a string, dancing around for their entertainment, fulfilling their pleasure, while I mask mine with some fucked up fantasy of the way things should be when you’re with someone.

I have to tell her. I have to convince her that it’s more than friendship, more than just sitting on a dock telling each other about our life’s worries and war stories. It’s more than sexual innuendoes and drinking games. There’s some other kind of deeper meaning behind all of it and for the first time in my life, I’m going to find out what everyone else in my life is talking about.

My heart is not the cold sheet of ice I thought it was because Harlow Hannum melted that away. I’m not letting another moment go by without telling her, without trying to convince her to give in… To me… To us.

CHAPTER 11

And the teacher is the one being taught

Harlow~

I can still feel his lips on mine, even after being home, showered, dressed and asked a million and one questions by Willow, I can still feel them. As I laid in bed last night, constantly tossing and turning and unable to sleep due to the memory of Cruz kissing me, I have forced myself to believe that kiss must have been from pure adrenaline on his part. Lack of sleep, the rush of excitement, the new life he held in his hands, yep, that’s what I chalked it up to, pure adrenaline. That kiss was nothing more than a thank you for being there for him, he even said so himself. I know he asked me afterwards what I thought of it, why he had done so, but I was so taken aback, even I didn’t have an answer for once, so I used my interview as a distraction.

The interview.

My future rests in the hands of three men and two women. Throughout my interview, his lips had the advantage over my concentration. When the panel of principals and the head of the school’s administration looked over my credentials, my letters of recommendation, a mock up lesson plan I had to come up with in well… Less than a day’s notice, the feeling of his lips on mine still lingered. The whole drive home was difficult in weighing out the reasons why I felt some kind of unnatural reaction to it. Or was it natural and I was so caught up in the moment to even know the difference. Still the fact remains, and the one I lost sleep over is his happiness, his passion, the excitement made him do what he did. He’s Cruz for God’s sake. Someone who I’ve come to admire. We have bonded over this summer. We tell each other almost everything, except I don’t care to know who his flavor of the evening is. We kid. We joke. It’s almost like hanging with Craw… Almost. He’s a force to be reckoned with when it comes to women. We’ve had lengthy conversations regarding his take on relationships and sex. Numerous times. His comfortable way of talking to me about those things is a red flag in my brain right now.

It was just a kiss between friends. He fucks them and leaves them. Famous last words by him: ‘Get in and get out’.

But why for the love of God does this plague my mind? Why is it taking up every corner of my thoughts and yielding them into some kind of twisted thought process? We need to talk when he gets back. I need to answer his question from before, at the hospital. What did I think about what happened between us? What did I think about the kiss, and I’m fully prepared to tell him exactly what I think? Or at least what I talked myself into thinking.

Before he came outside the hospital to see me, I knew I had to try to talk to Dr. Goldberg. Just being there made me panic and I’m pretty sure I did a good job of hiding it. I haven’t spoken to Dr. Goldberg, or at least needed to speak with him in a few weeks. Cruz was there to talk to me, to listen, but in this particular situation, he’s unavailable to help me under the circumstances, I had no choice but to call Dr. Goldberg. He instructed me to repeat my mantra, so I did. I’m not sure, but I think Cruz bought the whole Willow being on the phone story.

So when he gets back, we will go to the dock and talk. That’s what’s going to happen. I tried to call him to tell him how my interview was but his voicemail just keeps coming on. Come to think of it, the bus ride should have only taken him two hours to get home. There must be delays. It did wind up raining last night, so maybe that’s what the problem is.

My interview went great, in spite of it being done at such an accelerated speed. They need someone, and they need someone… yesterday. They said they would get back to me by week’s end. That’s two days. My whole future could be planned in two days.

I walk down to the dock to relax and read and wait to hear from Cruz. I hear Max call my name.

“Harlow! You down there?” I see him hang over the top deck, and I turn in my chair to wave to him. He disappears and runs down to meet me. He looks frazzled.

“Max, what’s wrong?”

“Have you heard from Cruz since you’ve been back?”

“No, why? Is something wrong?” My stomach drops from the tone of his voice.

“His Captain called. He’s been trying to get a hold of him for a few hours now, but he says his phone is going straight to voicemail.”

“Max, why weren’t his parents there?”

He runs a hand through his mohawk and sighs.

“Harlow, ask Cruz. I gotta run to Jax for a sound check, so as soon as you hear from him, call me. I’ll leave him a note at the house just in case.”

Ask Cruz. The words run through my head. Did he get in an argument with them, or are they away on a vacation or something like that? I could ask Bella or Tony, but maybe it’s best if I just ask Cruz myself.

My mind goes to everything that could possibly be going on and why Cruz hasn’t called or what has happened. I don’t think I can stand it, so I’m going to call Bella. I have to be cautious when asking so I don’t upset them and make them worry.

I call the hospital and ask for Bella Cruz’s room. They connect me and Bella picks up on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Bella, hi this is Harlow Hannum.”

“Harlow, hi sweetie. How are things? Did your interview go well?”

I can hear the little stirring and cooing sounds of baby Matteo close to my ear.

“Great, actually, but I should be asking how you guys are.”

“We are doing great. Matteo’s feeding well and we can go home tomorrow. Did Raph make it home ok?”

Shit!

“Well, that’s really why I’m calling. I haven’t heard from him and he told me he would be home early afternoon and it’s almost five, so I’m a little worried.”

“You’re just a little worried?” Her tone isn’t accusatory, but it’s questionable.

“Yes, I am. Actually, I’m a lot worried. He always picks up when I call and usually gets back to me through text within a minute and now it’s going straight to voicemail.”

“Harlow, maybe his bus is running late and he forgot to charge his phone or something like that. He’s a big boy, I’m sure he’s fine. The man has fought in wars, so don’t worry too much.”

“I’ll try, it’s just, well I’m just… Well, it’s just not like him not to answer or at least try to contact me.”

“Give me your number and if by some chance he calls me or Tony, I’ll tell him how worried you are and for him to call you.”

I give her my number and say, “Thank you.”

“And Harlow, just so you know, and if I’m crossing a line here, I’m sorry, but he cares a lot about you and worries for you as well, so thank you, for feeling the same about him.”

“Thank you, Bella. Take care of that new little man, and I’m so glad I got a chance to meet you and Tony.”

“Me too, Harlow and hopefully we’ll see a lot more of you sooner than later.”

The line goes dead, and I stare at the phone.

My phone starts to buzz. I fumble with it, hoping it’s Cruz, praying that it’s him, telling me he’s ok, but it’s a number I don’t recognize.

“Cruz?” But it’s not.

“Miss Hannum, this is Greg Landberg from Grayson Elders School District.”

Great, I guess he’s calling to tell me they hired someone more qualified.

“Mr. Landberg, so nice to hear from you. What do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

He laughs, but in a friendly way.

“Well, the pleasure is all mine, believe me, Miss Hannum. We would like to offer you the position of seventh grade English teacher for this coming year at Grayson Elders Middle School.”

No, he did not just offer me a job. I pinch myself. I mean I just pinched my arm.

“Mr. Landberg, I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, we were hoping you’d say yes, and that you can report for duty by next Wednesday, so you can get acclimated with the school and the curriculum for the coming year.”

Here is my future. I have a job, and it’s all I ever wanted. This is happening so fast.

“Mr. Landberg, thank you so very much and I accept. I can be there next week. Just tell me what time and where.”

“We were so very impressed by your interview and we know that you will be a wonderful asset to our school. My secretary will send you more information and a copy of the contract for you to look over. You already submitted to us all the necessary paperwork on background checks and so forth, so that’s taken care of.”

I thank him for the opportunity, and that I will see him then. I try to dial Cruz again, but it still goes straight to voicemail. Wait till he hears. Wait till he finds out he got a job as well. Wait till I get my hands on him for making me worry the way I am.

I run up to the house to tell the girls. Willow is going to teach sixth grade Spanish at the school, so we will be together.

“Well, girls I think this calls for a celebration. A night out tonight for one last hurrah before we have to head back next week,” Willow says. She’ll head back with me on Monday so we can prepare for Wednesday. Only four more days here. I’ll have to say goodbye to Sandy Cove, among other things.

That reality sets in. I only have a few days left here. My time is being cut short at the shore, but my dream is coming true. I’ll be a teacher, and I’ll be happy… Finally… Maybe.

CHAPTER 12

Don’t expect too much like in those cheesy romance novels

Cruz~

Can someone please tell me how much worse the past six hours can get? First, I get on the wrong bus and wind up in bumble-fuck who the hell knows where and why? Because I fell asleep on the damn bus, and I’m at least three hours away from home, not stopping anytime soon mind you. Then I lost my phone. I lost my fucking phone in the bus terminal. How could I be so stupid? Where is my freaking head? Lack of sleep, thoughts of the girl I need to get home to so I can tell her how I feel about her. That’s where it is. This whole bus ride I’ve been trying to figure out what to say to her, how to tell her. I wrote it down on the back of a paper towel from the men’s room in the bus terminal. I don’t know how to write shit, I can’t even form the right words to express myself half the time. I fight. I fuck. I work hard. I’ve never had to tell a girl I think about her all the time. When she’s not around, I miss her, and I look forward to seeing her every morning. When I’m at work, she’s on my mind. How her scent stays with me all day after she’s been near me. All those things I never really even realized I was thinking of until now. It just seemed like second nature to me to think about her. We spend so much time together, I’d have to say that’s normal.