Homesick

Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

I glance at my phone and it’s a little after midnight. Blake and I have spent the past couple of hours passing stories from our childhood back and forth.

We trade turns toeing the line between where our friendship ended, and where our relationship began. I would argue that the friendship didn’t really end, it just became more. But I wasn’t about to bring that topic up after such a long period of peace between us.

I’m enjoying myself and based on the way he’s relaxed against the unconformable wooden post all while sporting his goofy yet charming smile, I can tell he is, too. We had finished off our shared bottle of wine an hour ago, but there is an invisible string keeping us tethered to this moment. It’s almost as if we’re so caught up in the nostalgia of our youth, we don’t want to return to the shit show that is our adult life.

“Do you remember when we used to play hide-and-go-seek in the hay loft every summer? That was always my favorite tradition when we were kids.”

“You may remember it being fun, but I remember it slightly different,” I say as I lazily lean back on my hands. My eyes flicker over to Mocha when he stirs in his sleep. Every once in a while, his eyes flutter open, but he’s back to sleep seconds later. I wish I slept that good , I think to myself.

“Oh yeah and how is that?” Blake prods while playfully nudging my foot with his own. With my buzz from the wine, I had failed to notice he had gotten closer throughout the night. He was still a safe distance . . . for now.

“Well, let’s see here. I remember you and Chris would always make me seek first and then go off and hide somewhere outside the boundaries so I couldn’t find you. And then when I was just about to give up, I would always find one of you. Well, it was usually you, now that I think about it.”

“I always felt bad so I would give myself up. Chris would get so mad, too.”

“Yeah, we were going through that fun phase where he hated me and all I wanted to do was hang out with you guys. I wanted to be one of the boys,” I say with a smile. Blake was the only other kid on our road, so it was usually the three of us. That was perfectly fine until we got older, and Chris could tell I had a crush on Blake. I leave that part out, though.

“Yeah, he was such a jerk to you back then. I can’t even remember the last time we played.”

A lightbulb goes off in my head fueled by delusion and wine. “Well, let’s play a game tonight. The hay loft is full, and I wouldn’t mind stretching my legs.”

“Oh, come on, Campbell. That’s the wine talking.”

“I think it would be fun, though! Let’s do it for old times’ sake.”

I see the gears in his mind turning, probably trying to think about all the reasons this is a bad idea. I should be doing the same, but I’m starting to see the old Blake in front of me and I’m not ready to let go.

“Think of it this way. You can’t remember the last time we played, so we can create a new memory. A recent one that’s not as angsty,” I reason, attempting to convince him to do something that I’m not even sure is a good idea.

“Fine.”

“Perfect! Oh and you get to seek first, loser.”

I jump up and practically skip to the barn where all the hay is kept. I notice Blake has a little pep in his step as we take in the sweet and slightly dusty smell. Per our agreement as kids, Blake begins to count to one hundred and I take off.

The rule is I have to hide somewhere in the hay barn, so I quickly search every nook and cranny for the perfect place to cram my body. The set-up is usually the same, but somehow different every year, which is what makes it the perfect place for hide-and-go-seek.

My heart starts to race when I hear Blake’s countdown get closer and closer to one hundred. I try to contain the laugher threatening to give away my position and then I realize why I was usually the first to be found when we were kids.

I quietly crawl up onto some hay bales stacked high and find a small opening that I can wedge myself into. I curse when I realize how much easier this was when we were kids. No wonder adults don’t do this more often.

My heart nearly stops when Blake finally yells out, “ready or not, here I come!” I hold my hand over my mouth to try and quiet the heavy breathing from all the adrenaline coursing through my body right now.

I hear his footsteps crunch as he gets closer and closer. It’s crazy to think that this night started out with me panicking over Mocha and now I’m crushed between two hay bales, all giddy over feeling like a kid again.

Soon I hear Blake’s footsteps get quieter and quieter, which leads me to believe he’s on the other side of the barn. I feel another rush of adrenaline as I contemplate whether to stay where I’m at or hide somewhere he’s already looked. I choose the latter and stealthily maneuver off the ledge I’m positioned on. I feel myself starting to sweat and I curse internally for being ten years older and severely out of shape.

I can’t hear Blake anymore, but I stop just to be sure. That’s weird . Then I realize he’s probably doing the same thing and wait another minute before attempting to tip toe through the maze of hay. I peek around the corner before going any further and once the coast is clear I make like a ninja and run for it.

Just as I’m about to turn the corner, I feel two arms reach out and I almost scream from the sudden action. Before I can even process what’s happening, I’m pinned between a wall of hay and Blake Fisher.

“Gotcha,” he whispers. It doesn’t take long before my body reacts to the close proximity of him. I slowly let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding as he pins me in place with his eyes. I swallow hard before arguing, “you tricked me! I thought you were on the other side of the barn.”

My chest moves up and down and my breathing becomes more rapid. I try to blame it on how shocked I am that he found me, but it’s impossible not to notice we’ve been in this position for a little too long.

Blake smirks before saying, “yes, I believe I won. What’s my prize?”

It’s dark in the barn, but I can see his eyes slowly trail down to my lips and back up before they linger for too long .

I should push him off me , I say to myself. For some reason, that’s easier said than done because my knees feel weak and I’m entranced by a mixture of fresh mint and smoky sandalwood.

I bite my lip, contemplating my next move, but that prompts his eyes to lower again. When he looks back up, I notice his green orbs darken and his body gravitates closer to mine. Before I know it, he reaches up, brushing a strand of hair from my face. The touch of his hand sends shivers down my spine and causes the temperature of my body to spike.

Soon his hand is cupping my face and that same invisible string from earlier is pulling him in closer. Right before he makes the final move, his eyes connect with mine as if to ask for permission. I nod slightly and push down the screams bubbling up from inside. My mind and body are not in agreement in this moment.

Time stops as Blake’s soft and tender lips touch mine for the first time in six years. His lips are just as warm as I remember and somehow still mold perfectly to mine. Soon I’m transported back to our first kiss when we were teenagers and the thrill of how it felt to cross that line with him.

I part my lips and let his tongue slip in. I feel Blake’s body press into mine, yet it still doesn’t feel close enough. I throw my arms around his neck, willing him to get closer and he responds by reaching his hands down to my ass and hoisting me up. The only thing running through my mind at this moment is how sweet his lips are and how much they taste like home.

All of a sudden, I hear a hay bale hit the ground and I realize we’ve upset the structural integrity of the wall behind us. Blake gently sets me down and I begin to recover from the spell we were under.

I slowly turn back to Blake before trying to fully comprehend what just happened. I open my mouth to say something before he cuts me off.

He simply whispers “fuck,” while trying to get the rhythm of his breathing back in line. I focus on the way his chest sinks and rises, willing this moment to disappear into thin air. “That was . . . I’m sorry, Wren. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Without thinking, my fingers graze over my bottom lip in disbelief. The words Blake just kissed me keep racing through my mind and all I want to do is shut it off. At this point, there is no denying I’m still hopelessly attracted to this man. A few glasses of wine and one vulnerable moment had been all it took to tear down my walls, if only for a second.

“Wren, please say something,” Blake pleads, pulling me out of my internal battle.

I clear my throat and push myself off the wall of hay. “We should probably pick up these bales.”

Before I can completely turn away from him, he grabs my forearm. I flinch, his touch foreign after all these years. “Listen Blake, it’s late and we’ve both been drinking. We just got caught up in a moment. Let’s just agree it was probably a bad idea and move on,” I say calmly.

Blake looks at me with those big green eyes and I can see worry storming behind his irises. He opens his mouth to say something, but quickly presses his lips back together. After a few more seconds of the same motion, he finally says, “yeah, you’re right. It was a mistake.”

For some odd reason, my heart convulses at the words coming out of his mouth. They dance across my tongue so effortlessly, but when he says it, it seems final.

Without another word, Blake begins to pick up the fallen hay bales on the ground. I take a deep breath before joining him. We work in silence, but my mind is raging with feelings. There are hundreds of thoughts zipping through my head, but one stands above the rest. I want to feel his lips against mine again .

* * *

I wake up to a pounding headache and a weird sinking feeling in my stomach. All I want to do today is hide under the covers and wait for myself pity to consume me, but I know that isn’t an option.

As I hesitantly drag myself out of bed and get ready for the day, I replay last night’s kiss in my head over and over again. I try to ignore the way my skin heats up at each replay, but eventually I settle with a cold shower to try and stifle any more non-friendly thoughts swimming around in my head.

The worst part about kissing my ex-boyfriend was I knew what came next. I knew how it felt to be with Blake, and I would be lying if it didn’t drum up a side of me that had been dormant for six years.

It’s quickly becoming harder to push down the unmistakable attraction between the two of us. It’s enough to make me want to scream.

The more I try to figure out how Blake and I can move on from last night, the more my head keeps pounding. I’m starting to wonder if my headache is even from the wine or from how messed up my life is right now. Last night should’ve gone a completely different way.

In an effort to try and stop the thoughts from festering in my mind, I head downstairs to eat and then check on Mocha. Thankfully, I won’t have to see Blake until tonight and I can figure out some way to act like he didn’t hit a switch last night.

“Hi, hunny! You’re up early.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep,” I say, nosily looking at what she’s cooking. “Is that bacon?”

“Yes, here you go.”

My mom hands me a couple pieces of bacon to snack on while she finishes up the rest of breakfast. “I figured you’d be sleeping in extra late. Seems like you had a late night,” she smiles to herself as she starts frying some eggs.

My stomach drops. I feel like a teenager that just got caught sneaking in too late. I also get the feeling she knows the reason why I was out so late. “Yeah, I stayed out in the barn so I could keep an eye on that calf that’s sick,” I reply casually while munching on a piece of bacon.

“I thought you had a date last night. With the Davis boy.”

Ugh, this woman must work for the freaking FBI. “Mom, I told you I had a date, but I don’t recall giving you his name.”

“No, you didn’t. I had to find out from his mom of all people.”

“I didn’t tell you his name because I don’t know if it’s going anywhere. I didn’t want to make that big of a fuss.”

I pause for a second before I comprehend her entire sentence. “And of course, you know his mom. This is why I don’t date anyone from Honey Grove.”

If it was a few years ago, I probably wouldn’t have been mad at my mom for meddling, but it feels nice to banter with her like this. It feels like I’m home for the first time in a long time.

“Okay, fine. But I’m your mother and you should just tell me about this stuff on your own. I shouldn’t have to go digging for information at the local 4-H club.”

I follow her out to the dining room and sit across from her. “I’m sorry. I know I can be closed off at times, but I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

She slightly raises her eyebrow as if to say she has no clue what I’m talking about.

“I just feel like you and Dad are disappointed that I haven’t settled down yet.”

“Honey, I’m sorry if either of us ever gave you that impression. I’m not upset about you not having a boyfriend. I’m more upset about you feeling like you can’t talk to me. You’ve felt so distant these last few years and I just want to get to know my daughter again,” my mom says while reaching across the table to hold my hand.

I smile back at her and feel the comfort of her answer hit me in waves. I’m starting to fully grasp how disconnected I’d truly become with the people who knew me best.

“I know, Mom. I want to be more open moving forward, but I would like it if you’d respect some of my boundaries. I’ll talk about Adam when there’s actually something to talk about.”

“Hmm, okay. Can I ask one more question?”

“Of course,” I say before taking a long sip of coffee.

“Why was Blake’s truck at the farm so late last night?”

Now I’m more sure than ever that the FBI needs to recruit Susan Campbell.

“Oh geez, look at the time. I better go check on that calf before it gets too late,” I nervously reply before taking my coffee mug out the door.

I’ve almost cleared the porch before she says, “Wren Grace Campbell, you know better than to have boys over that late.”

I can feel my face heat up at her accusation as I pick up the pace. “Love you, Mom!”

I hear the door close behind me and I can finally stop awkwardly half-running away. If that’s how I react to her questioning, I’m not ready to see Blake.