Chapter 32
DELANEY
I’ve imagined this moment.
Of finally feeling the familiar press of Darren’s lips against mine again, the same ones that stole my very first kiss all those years ago.
I thought the only way I’d be here was in my bed, asleep and caught in the memories of our past. It was never supposed to happen like this.
In a fit of anger and hurt and searing jealousy.
Yet here I am, unable to pull myself away like I know I should.
Darren doesn’t stay surprised for long. Before I can let what I’ve just done sink in, he’s caging me in his arms and kissing me back with a strength that threatens to sweep my feet out from under me.
He’d hold me up if I did, and that certainty— that trust —keeps me in place, unable to fight my way free of him.
The noises from the field die to nothing as my brain latches onto our kiss and nothing else. It’s cliché, but the world could be burning, and I fear I wouldn’t be able to move. Something tells me that the only reason he would is to try and shield me from the flames.
I squeeze my eyes shut when my emotions bubble too high and tears build behind my eyelids.
I release a choked breath against his mouth and push my hands behind his head, his hair soft against my palms. Fingers curling angrily, I inhale sharply and pull with a strength stemming from years of hurt and abandonment.
Darren hisses into my mouth but doesn’t pull away.
Doesn’t tell me to stop or shove my hands free of his hair.
He’s silent, deadly so, as I only manage to grow angrier.
At him, at myself, at Sasha and the entire world for what it’s put me through.
All of the loss and loneliness and bitterness that’s grown like an infestation in my heart.
I dig my teeth into his lip and then let it go at the same time I shove myself away from the booth.
The loss of him is instant, burning so hot it’s cold in my chest. It’s so familiar that for a moment, I feel like I’ve gone back in time.
Only instead of being a na?ve twenty-one-year-old with a future stamped with his name, I’m ten years older and jaded.
“Delaney.”
His voice makes everything worse. I twirl around and bump into Sarah. She backs up, freeing us from contact before glaring at me, her thoughts obvious in her expression. It’s almost laughable that she’s still here, watching what I know will be a story told all over town by tonight.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
Darren comes toward me, following as the dry grass crunches beneath his boots. “Delaney, don’t go. Not yet.”
I know better than to look at him. One glance is all it would take for my resolve to disintegrate right now, and the last thing I need is to stay with him after what I’ve done. I need space. Distance. A chance to get myself together after losing exactly that.
Sarah stays far away from me as I abandon everything I brought and walk away from the booth.
The heavy bronze buttons on my overalls clack as I increase my pace and avoid the eyes of everyone I pass.
Mortification would be the best word for how I feel when I hit Brody Steele’s shoulder and stagger over a step.
“Delaney?” he asks, a cautious hand reaching out to hold my shoulder, steadying me before falling away. The cowboy hat on his head shields his eyes from the sun, casting a shadow over both of us. “Are you okay?”
I’d rather have run into any other member of Darren’s friend group.
Brody isn’t just one of Darren’s closest friends, but he’s a celebrity inside of Cherry Peak and to the rest of the world.
I’ve never been able to mould the man he is now into the one he was when we were kids, and that’s kept me more .
. . wary, I guess. He’s a stranger to me now.
“I’m fine. I just need to go,” I whisper past the ball in my throat.
Brody seems to hear what I don’t say. “Do you need a ride? I’ve got my truck here, or I know Johnny’s got his, and all the girls would love an opportunity to drive either one of them if you didn’t want us to.”
“No. No, I don’t need a ride. I’ll walk.”
“Walk? It’s a ten-minute drive back to town. I have no clue how long it would take to walk.”
“I’ve got it,” I say shortly, not interested in standing here any longer.
“It’s not safe to walk on the highway, Delaney.”
“If you’re so concerned, you can tell Darren I caught a ride since I know he’s who you’re going to find the moment I leave,” I bite out.
Brody turns away, looking around the field for someone to help him out here, most likely. I use his distraction to my advantage and slip away.
It’s terrifying being here again. Not in this place, but rather, this mindset. The sharp tang of regret fills my mouth as I pass the folding tables and food trucks with lines longer than the kissing booth.
The kissing booth . . . what a terrible idea that was. I knew it from the moment Darren brought it up. Agreeing to take part in it was as good as promising that I’d wind up losing my head to the same jealousy that ate me up for years watching him with Sasha.
That same tear through my heart with every hand hold on the street and two seats taken at the diner is back, only this time, there’s no ring on his finger.
I’m a mess.
The front pocket of my overalls buzzes at the same time my feet scrape over the fresh gravel in the parking lot. I ignore it and push my hands into the side of my overalls to keep them warm when the wind kicks up.
I push out a long, even breath and slow my pace enough to relax. The more distance I can put between me and Darren, the better right now, even if that means I have to take a very, very long walk. Or at least a few minutes before I call one of the girls to come and get me.
My phone buzzes again, and again, before I fish it out and check the screen. Darren’s name is there in thick, bold letters before disappearing, making room for me to read through the texts already collecting.
Darren : Don’t leave like this again.
Darren : At least let me drive you home. It’s supposed to start to rain soon.
Anna : Brody told us he saw you leave. I’m sorry he’s such a blabbermouth.
Bryce : I told him you’d kick him in the ass. Text me when you need a ride.
I clamp my teeth together to fight more fucking tears and exit the parking lot.
The shoulder on this road is non-existent, but the ditch is shallow.
It’s been that way forever. With how many horses come trotting down this way, the shallow ditch is better on the off chance they misstep.
Or at least that’s what I’ve been told. I’ve only ridden a horse once, and I hated every minute of it.
“You have to hold on to the reins, Delaney! Stop letting go of ’em, or she’s goin’ to take off on you.”
Brody laughs from where he’s sitting on the fence, watching me try and fail to ride the horse they supposedly use for training children at Steele Ranch. Yeah, children. Apparently, even six-year-olds have more natural skill than I do at sixteen.
“Why don’t you give Darren a hard time? He’s even worse than I am!” I call back.
The horse beneath me is gentle, sure. But with how badly my ass is hurting, I can’t focus on anything but trying to lean off it. Every time she moves, I wobble like an egg on a post.
“Don’t project, Elle. You’re going to fall off at this rate,” Darren teases.
“You’re only doing better than me because Brody let you ride Sky. That’s special treatment if I’ve ever seen it.”
Darren laughs. “That’s best friend perks, baby. I offered to let you sit on her with me.”
Brody hops off the fence and passes Darren with a pat to his personal horse Sky’s neck before heading my way.
His filthy cowboy boots leave deep grooves in the dirt of the training circle, emphasizing the whole rancher thing he’s got going on for him.
Well, that plus the hat that hasn’t left his head in the time I’ve known him. Not unless we’re having dinner.
“Vera here is a good girl, Delaney. You’ve just gotta relax a bit,” he says.
“It feels like my thighs are going to crack in half.”
“They look like it too.”
“Don’t talk about my girl’s thighs, Brody.”
The cowboy backs up with his hands in the air and winks at me. “Fine, you possessive fucker.”
I adjust my hold on the reins and try to sit properly on the saddle. The helmet on my head is heavy too, which doesn’t help. Everything about this is uncomfortable, and I’m not sure I care about the whole muscle-acclimation thing Brody was blabbing about at lunch.
Darren appears in front of me, his smirk so deep it could probably stay sunken into his cheeks forever. “Oh, you’re still in the same spot.”
“I’m going to punch you.”
“You say the hottest things to me, Elle.”
Vera, the horse beneath my very sore ass, tries to take a few more steps forward. I squeal, falling against her neck and yanking on the reins. Brody and Darren both bark laughs into the summer air, and I decide I’m never, ever getting on a horse’s back again.
I sigh when my phone buzzes again. The name is different than the two previous ones, so I answer it.
“I’m fine, Daisy.”
“I knew you’d answer if Daisy called. I’m a bit offended, but I won’t get into that right now. How far have you made it from the drive-in?” Poppy asks.
“The whole part of me not telling anyone that I was leaving was so nobody worried.”
She laughs coolly. “We’re not sixteen anymore, Della. That shit doesn’t work anymore.”
“You’re still not coming to get me right now. The event isn’t over, and I’m not going to let it come to an end because I needed to get away.”
“Why did you need to leave?”
“As if you haven’t already heard. I’m sure half the town has by now.”
I stare at the white lines painted on the side of the road, keeping count of each one I pass.
“I want to hear it from you, not some bored gossips.”
“So, it is going around, then,” I mutter.
“Of course it is. This is Cherry Peak, after all. When I trapped myself in my room for a week crying over Garrison, everyone knew it was because he’d left me. All it took was one person to see his car driving out of town, and the rumours started. That’s how it works here. ”
“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t still fucking suck, Poppy.”
She scoffs. “Let me talk. It’s all mindless chatter from people with nothing better to do.”
“I only just passed the fruit stand sign,” I say, not bothering to read this week’s BC selection of fruit. “If you’re going to come, it has to just be you.”
“I won’t let him come.”
“I know.”
“I’ll be right there, and then we’re going to go to Peakside and get drunk on their half-off sangrias. Deal?”
I don’t even have to think about it.
“Deal, Poppy.”