Reawakened Secrets (2 page)

Jackson twisted to take the brunt of the fall, and I landed squarely on top of him. Before I could blink, he rolled and trapped me beneath his weight. We were both gasping for air, as if we’d been running around the lake instead of rolling around the edge of it. I was painfully aware of the hard planes of his chest making my already puckered nipples harder. I was equally enthralled with the firm, muscled thigh wedged at the perfect angle to ignite a raging, melting fire between my legs. Paralyzed, I was unable to do anything but stare back at his eyes peering so intently into mine. I lay there willing my body to stay still, but there was no way he could miss the seismic tremors rattling through me.

Jackson pulled his arms from beneath my back and rose up on his elbows. His eyes held me captive as he slowly traced his thumb along the curve of my jaw. He pressed his forehead to mine and placed a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth before he released a small groan. “Claire,” he said, before moving his hands lower. When they were on either side of my rib cage, he began to tickle me. I yelped and bucked against his torture. “Say it. You’re awesome.”

“I’m awesome!” I shrieked.

“Are you sure?” He continued to tickle as I writhed beneath him.

“Yes, yes!” I shouted. “I’m awesome.”

“Good,” he said, resting his hands on each side of my ribcage, just under my breasts. “Now, say you’re beautiful.”

“Jack, please, don’t play like that.”

His grip tightened, and he shifted closer. “I’m not. You are beautiful, and I want to hear you say it.”

The way he was looking at me, I could almost believe he meant it. “I’m beautiful,” I whispered.

“Damned right you are,” he said before slowly rising off me. He reached down to help me up but didn’t let go.

My hand trembled in his. I was burning up, but no longer because of the sun.
Oh, God, Claire, don’t make a fool of yourself. He’ll end up with Alice where he belongs, and you’ll not only be broken-hearted, but friendless as well.

“Jack, maybe it’s time to head back.” I tried to pull my hand away, but his hold tightened.

“Claire, you know how much you mean to me, don’t you?”

“Of course,” I said. “You and Alice are my best friends.”

Jackson’s mouth twisted, and his chest expanded with a deep breath. He stared down at me for several seconds, as if attempting to work something out in his head before his lips finally lifted into a smile.

“Come on, one more swim before we leave, and I’ll let you go . . . for now. In fact, let’s race to the other side of the lake.”

“You’re on, loser,” I said, giving my hand another tug. He let go this time, his fingers sliding over mine, leaving me with a strange sense of loss when he finally pulled away. To cover my confusion, I turned and sprinted to the water without waiting for him to say, “Go.” I laughed as he shouted behind me.

“Claire!”

It had damn near been a perfect day. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so quick to run away if I’d known it would really be our last one.

I
T WAS MY
first day off in weeks, and I decided to celebrate with spring cleaning. I slid on a tattered pair of sweats and a t-shirt and went in search of supplies. I turned on the radio and started singing along with the ridiculous lyrics.

“Womanizer, womanizer, oh!”

Inexplicably happy, I danced around the house. Doing my best impression of a brunette Britney Spears, I dusted the knickknacks. This is the life a twenty-seven-year-old is supposed to have, I thought, moving on to scrub the patio windows. Enjoy it while you can. Tomorrow, it’s back to reality. The phone rang, and I rushed to turn down the radio. Still breathless from my workout, I answered the phone.

“Brown residence. You’re interrupting my day off, so make it good.”

“Claire?”

It had been ten years, but I knew the sound of his voice instantly. It washed over me, robbing me of what little breath I had left. My chest constricted, as though I had fallen—hard, knocking the wind out of me. I pressed my hand there, curling my fingers into the fabric of my shirt and pulled in an unsteady breath to speak. But no sound could work its way through the constricting lump in my throat.

“Claire, are you there? It’s Jackson . . . Jackson Montgomery.”

Taking a shaky breath, I clutched the phone tighter. “Yeah,” I managed to squeak.

“I’m sorry for calling you this way,” his honeyed voice continued. “It’s about Alice.”

I sank into the nearest chair, afraid my wobbling knees would send me crashing to the floor. My insides turned into a churning jumble of panic and dread.

“Jack, please, tell me she’s okay,” I whispered.

“Don’t worry, it’s good news. Alice is awake. Now that she’s recovering, the only thing she’s asked for is you.”

Limp with relief, I slumped into the chair, my heart pounding against my ribs. He waited for a response, but I struggled just to process his words.

“I know it’s a shock after all this time, but she’s asking for you,” Jackson persisted. He could have just as easily been telling me the sky was blue. It filled me with irrational hatred, despair and absolute humiliation. How dare he sound so calm and sure while my world was crumbling around me
.
“And Claire, she, uh . . . doesn’t remember anything.”

I choked out a few gasps of air. “Where is she?” I managed to force through the stranglehold of emotions closing my throat and burning my eyes.

I raced down the familiar interstate toward Yale-New Haven Hospital, my mind racing, my body quivering. I was on auto-pilot, speeding ahead without really seeing my surroundings. I don’t know when I began to doubt I would see Alice again, but even the strongest resolve can waver over time. My hands gripped the steering wheel, as hot waves of guilt overwhelmed me. There was no escaping its insurmountable weight—partly from my lack of faith, but mostly because my best friend had spent ten years in a coma because of me.

I felt like a ping pong ball; my emotions smacked from one side of the table to the other: joy—smack—trepidation—smack—euphoria—smack. However, the one emotion careening to the forefront was fear. Of course, happiness mingled with my fear. Alice was finally awake. But, much too late, I realized the day I’d dreamed of was also the one I should have dreaded the most. I had prayed for Alice’s recovery, but failed to think about what would happen next. I never planned on Jackson coming home either. There was no way I could hide my secrets from either one of them for long. My unintended reprieve was over.

Finally, I arrived at the hospital and made my way to the elevator. I tried to concentrate only on Alice—impossible. I struggled against the tears that welled in my eyes and wondered who was this pathetic person I’d become in less than thirty minutes? I’m a surgeon, for crying out loud . . . well, almost. I dealt with life-and-death situations all the time. Nevertheless, my heart continued to pound at the thought of seeing him again.

Now was not the time to lose my shit. The naïve, infatuated kid I used to be stopped existing a long time ago, thanks in no small part to Jackson Montgomery and my own recklessness. The elevator came to a smooth stop, and I stared at the number illuminated over the doors as they slid open. I took a long, deep breath and stepped out into the hallway.

My heart slowed to a steady beat when I realized she was alone. Disappointment, not the expected relief, flowed through me. My eyes filled again, and shame rooted me in place, much too far away from the person I had rushed to see. Alice’s fragile frame lay unnaturally still in the oversized hospital bed. It was really her. I soaked in the beauty of her face. Waves of silvery blonde hair fanned her pillow. Her delicate cheekbones were more prominent in the sunken cheeks. The slight bow of her lips curved into a smile while she slept. Thick brown lashes framed her eyelids in stark contrast to her pale, translucent skin. She looked very much the same, just a frailer version of the girl I used to know.

Alice, my savior, my lifeline, was finally home. I couldn’t remember a time before she had been a part of my life. Her mother had died just before her second birthday, so my mom became more or less a surrogate to her as the nanny. We lived on her family’s estate grounds in the staff quarters of Haven Hill. Alice and I had spent most of our time together.

Unable to think of one without the other, my mind drifted to Jackson. I must have been four years old the first time he came to visit Alice. We were playing hide-and-seek in the Haven Hill rose garden. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I had never seen anyone so beautiful. Well, maybe except for Alice.

“Who’s that?” I had whispered to Alice as my mother led him to us. I was afraid to voice my curiosity too loudly.

“Oh, that’s just Jackson,” she replied. “I’m gonna marry him one day.” She smiled.

Me too,
I thought to myself, looking guiltily toward my best friend. Even then, I had known this was a thought I should not share with Alice. No matter how good a friend she was, and despite the fact that we told each other everything, something about how Jackson Montgomery made me feel was private. Without warning, Alice’s eyes fluttered open. My stomach lurched viciously, but I was frozen in place.

“Claire?” she asked in a soft murmur. Her voice propelled me into action. Stumbling over my feet, I rushed to her side. There was nothing I could do to stop the tears this time. The closest thing I would ever have to a sister was really with me again. I held her close, savoring her warmth and familiar scent.

“I’ve missed you, Alice. I’m so relieved to finally have you back.” I pulled away to study her face again. “How are you feeling? How long have you been awake? When did they bring you to the States?” I babbled without giving her time to answer.

She laughed and it was almost as if no time had passed from the days when we were inseparable, more than mere best friends. For the first time in over ten years, I remembered what it felt like to be young and lighthearted. But so much had changed. Another spasm of guilt invaded my joy. I looked down at our joined hands, unable to maintain eye contact. Alice could always read me. I was afraid she would take one good look and know.

“I opened my eyes for the first time two months ago, but I just arrived at this hospital yesterday.” While she began to detail her recovery in a weak, raspy voice, I labored to concentrate on what she was saying. It was all “Jackson did this . . .” and “Jackson did that . . . blah, blah, blah.” I groaned inwardly. Although I was sure he deserved every bit of praise for taking care of her as he always had, I was going to spew my guts all over my best friend if I had to hear how wonderful he was for much longer. Mercifully, she changed the direction of the conversation.

“Now, I want to hear about you,” she said. “Tell me everything I’ve missed. Don’t leave anything out.”

Hoping she had not recognized my mood, I answered. “I hate to disappoint you, Alice, but my life has been very boring without you. Umm . . .” I paused for a moment, straining to edit out the things I should not share. My mother’s voice echoed in my head. “
Lying by omission is still lying in the eyes of God, young lady.”
Oh well. I’ve lied, fornicated, and coveted. Hell, I practically killed my best friend with my selfishness. By all Catholic standards, it was pretty clear I was going to Hell anyway.