Chapter 22
Ainsley
After early practices every day during Spring Break this week, I finally get a day to relax.
And by relax I mean listen to the sound of a relentless hammer knocking nail after nail into wooden boards.
Landon insisted on coming over to fix the loose wooden boards on the porch. I haven’t decided on what I should do with the house yet, so he’s making repairs in the meantime.
I’m supposed to be spackling the nail pops in the living room, but I keep getting distracted by glimpses of him through the front door.
Covered in a sheen of sweat, he lifts the hem of his T-shirt to wipe his face with it, and I’m graced with a flash of his abs.
My thighs clench together. Like a masochist, I continue staring as he lifts a water bottle to his mouth and takes a long swig.
I stare, and I stare, at the way his lips curve around the bottle; at the muscles working in his jaw; at the movements in his throat.
The memory of our kiss has burned a hole in my mind. I’m ashamed to admit how many times I’ve replayed it. Even now, if I close my eyes, I can feel his skin on my fingertips, feel those plump lips and that sinful tongue of his stroking mine.
Desire has sunken in, and it’s sprouting roots.
The shock of it hasn’t worn off either. All the pent-up anger and resentment I’ve spent years holding on to, where does it go?
It feels as if it’s floating over me like the clouds of an impending storm.
We said our apologies, and smoothed things over.
We’ve been working well together. But then we kissed, and I can’t stop questioning myself about it.
Why did I kiss him?
Why did I want to?
And how do I go back to pretending I don’t want to do it again?
The door smacks against the frame as Landon steps inside. “It’s so hot.”
Yes. Yes, it is.
I clear my throat and turn back to the wall I’m supposed to be spackling. “Maybe you shouldn’t work outside in the middle of the day. Don’t want you to get heatstroke and die on me.”
He slumps down onto the couch. “Eh, you’d get me to the hospital before I died.”
“You sound so sure about that.”
He chuckles. “It’s fine. I don’t mind helping you.”
“How’s everything looking?”
When he doesn’t respond, I glance over my shoulder. His eyes are zeroed in on my ass, trailing down the backs of my legs.
I clear my throat, arching a devious eyebrow at him when his eyes flick to mine.
“Huh?”
“I asked how everything is looking.” I blink. “You know, on the porch.”
He licks his lips. “Everything’s looking real good. In better shape than I thought.”
I shake my head as I smooth the remaining spackle against the wall. “You’re incorrigible.”
Landon stands from the couch, and in the next second, there’s a wall of heat at my back. His deep voice rasps in my ear. “You still running every morning?”
“Mhmm.” I keep my body straight, not moving an inch. “Four miles. Making good time too.”
His hands don’t touch me. His body hovers so that if I want him to touch me, I have to back myself against him. Nothing but the warmth of his breath skates across my skin.
“You’re always so disciplined, so in control of everything.” His lips are right at the cusp of my ear. “What happens when you let go, hmm?”
“I like being in control.” As the words leave my mouth, I lean back a fraction to close the space between us. I rest my head back on his shoulder, leaving my neck exposed.
“I’d like to see that restraint snap.” He drags his nose along the column of my neck, and my body shivers. “I’d like to be the one it snaps for.”
My body heats, needing his touch, needing his hands on me.
Needing relief.
Until he steps backward, and takes his warmth with him. “I fixed a few planks on the porch. Tomorrow I’ll come by and seal it before I put on a fresh coat of paint.”
He keeps talking about the repairs as if he’s unaffected by the conversation we just had. Meanwhile, I’m panting like a dog in heat.
My fingernails dig into my palms. I know what he’s trying to do.
I’ve figured out his little game. But I need to stay strong, to keep him at a distance.
Letting him in will only end in hurt feelings and awkward vibes that I don’t want in my everyday life.
Lacrosse is my world, the field my safe haven. I won’t let anything jeopardize that.
No matter how good it might feel in the moment.
“I’m gonna head back into the garage.” I rub my temples in small circles. I haven’t been in there since I hurt my neck, and it’s mostly due to procrastination. “There’s so much crap in there.”
“Let’s go assess.” Landon holds open the door for me as he steps onto the porch. “I’ve got some time before I have to take my mother to the doctor.”
“Is your mom okay?”
“Yeah, she’s going for her annual checkup. She doesn’t need me to go with her, but I’d like to hear what the doctor has to say, and ask any questions I might have.”
As soon as I pull up the garage door, we’re hit with a powerful odor. Rotten eggs mixed with sulfur.
I spin around and gag. “What the fuck is that?”
Landon covers his nose with his shirt. “Smells like a skunk.”
My eyes go wide, and I jump behind him. “Oh, my God. There’s a skunk in here?”
“Judging from the smell, he might be dead.”
I nudge him further into the garage. “You have to find him.”
He scoffs. “Does Miss Independent who can do everything by herself need my help?”
Don’t get me wrong, I’m one of those strong independent women who don’t need no man types. But there are exceptions. This is one of those times. I might not need a man, but I strongly prefer one when wild rodents are concerned.
“Pfft. You think I wanna get sprayed and smell like that?” I nudge him again. “No, thanks.”
Landon scans the garage, and grabs an old broom I keep propped against the wall. He leans forward, poking the nearby boxes with it.
My heart sits in my throat, a knot coiling in my stomach. I press my hands against Landon’s back, peeking around his shoulder to watch what he’s doing.
“I think I see something over there,” Landon whispers.
I gasp. “Where?”
Landon aims the end of the broomstick at a stack of boxes labeled Christmas decorations surrounded by a few black garbage bags.
“It looks furry. I’m going to check it out.”
“Oh, God,” I whisper yell. “What if it’s alive?”
He glances at me over his shoulder. “Why don’t you go in the house?”
I shake my head. “What if he attacks you? I need to be out here to take you to the ER when you get rabies.”
“That’s comforting.” Landon bends his knees, and holds the broom like a sword.
I’d laugh at him if I weren’t so scared.
He crouches down as he approaches, prodding the bags.
“Do you see anything?”
“No. I have to get closer.”
It’s difficult to see what he’s doing as I hang back by the entrance of the garage, but I hear the swishing of the plastic bags as he leans forward.
Then he jumps and spins around. “Look out!”
A flash of black comes flying toward me, hitting me square in the face. A blood-curdling scream rips from my throat as I swat at it, and bolt out of the garage.
“It hit me in the face! It touched me!” I scrub my hands over my cheeks, racing down the driveway. “Where is it? Is it chasing me?”
I need to bathe in tomato sauce.
I’m going to stink for days.
I’ll have to sleep out on the porch.
Landon’s laughter has me stopping in my tracks by the time I reach the sidewalk.
“Where is it?” Chest heaving, I whirl around. “Why are you laughing?”
Landon is hunched over, hands braced on his knees, with his eyes squeezed shut.
My eyes dart around the yard, searching for whatever it was that touched me.
I plant my hands on my hips and wait for Landon to collect himself.
He dabs at the corner of his eye. “There’s no skunk.”
My eyebrows dip. “Something jumped on me. I felt it.”
“This is what attacked you.” Dangling from his finger is a black wig from when I dressed up as a witch for Halloween in elementary school.
Oh, this fucker is gonna get it.
My eyes narrow, and my hands ball into fists.
Landon lifts his palm in front of him, realization flashing in his eyes. “Hold on. It was just a joke. I’m sorry if I scared you.”
I inch toward him. “If you scared me?”
He drops the wig to his feet. “I did scare you. I’m sorry that I scared you. I was just being funny.”
“You want to be funny?” I creep closer, stalking toward him as he side-steps out of the garage. “I can be really funny.”
“No, I don’t want to be funny anymore. Please don’t—”
I lunge for him. He darts onto the grass, but I’ve always been faster than him.
I jump onto his back, and he tucks his chin to his chest, bending forward and attempting to shake me off.
But I hold on like I’m riding a bull, and put my index finger in my mouth, covering it in saliva.
And then I stick it in his ear.
Landon squeals like a child. He falls to his knees on the grass, taking me down with him. I roll off to the side as he digs his finger into his ear to dry it off.
“God, I hate it so much.” His features scrunch in disgust. “It never fully dries. It’s like your spit makes its way into my brain.”
I clutch my stomach while I laugh. The guys on the team used to give each other wet willies back in high school, and Landon absolutely despised it.
He collapses onto his back beside me. “I’ve gone seventeen years without a wet ear canal.”
“So, you’re overdue.”
He turns his head to look at me, a wide smile taking over his face. Pulling our old juvenile pranks feels like this time hasn’t passed at all. Like we’re the same teenage kids we once were. Like nothing has changed.
It feels good to have Landon back in my life. It’s alarming and refreshing all at the same time.
Lying on the lawn, gazing into each other’s eyes, a lull falls over us and time stands still. For a moment, everything around us fades away. Someone’s yappy dog down the block. The cars passing by. The buzzing of the bumblebee by the flowers near the porch.
Nothing else exists.
Nothing except Landon.
His tongue skims across his bottom lip, and I fixate on it, enamored by the smooth, plumpness of it.
His hand comes up to trace the outline of my face, his fingers following over the contours of my jawline.
My skin pops and crackles like a roaring fire.
Heat rises from my core, threatening to combust and engulf me in flames.
Landon’s thumb glides over my lips, while his other hand still holds my own, firm and strong.
“I’ve missed you, Ainsley.” His low, deep voice smooths over my skin like silk. His hand finds mine, and he laces our fingers together between the blades of grass. “Life wasn’t the same without you in it.”
My heart hammers in my chest, and I swallow hard. “You were just bored without someone to antagonize.”
He shakes his head. “No. I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” As much as it pains me to admit...I didn’t realize how much until he came back.
Emotion swims in the depths of his honey-brown pools. “I let my father get in my head, and get between us. I was all sorts of fucked up back then.”
“You were going through a lot, and I didn’t make it any easier on you.
” I pause, my eyes bouncing between his eyes as I reveal a truth I haven’t admitted to anyone.
“I was so scared of losing my dad, of being alone, that it was easier to isolate myself from everyone. Lacrosse was all I had to throw myself into, and I let it take precedent over everything else.”
Landon presses his lips together. “I hated leaving you.”
I turn onto my side, propping my head up with my hand, my elbow resting in the grass. “Can I ask what happened with your dad? What made your mom finally kick him out?”
He roughs a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends.
“He got drunk one night, like he always did. He came home late and got pissed that Mom didn’t wait for him to have dinner.
She mouthed off to him, because she just couldn’t take any more of his bullshit, you know?
” Landon sighs. “My dad ended up pushing her, and she fell. Hit her head on the corner of the counter and had to get stitches.”
I clamp my hand over my mouth.
“I live with the guilt of him putting his hands on her, knowing he wouldn’t have gotten to her if I were there.”
I grip his shoulder. “That was not your fault. You are not responsible for your father’s choices. And I know it might sound harsh, but him pushing her was a good thing. It was the catalyst that got him away from her. So, don’t assume the blame for any of his shit, you hear me?”
“There were so many nights I wanted to call you. To vent. To ask for one of your pep talks. Even just to sit in silence on the phone.”
“You could’ve.”
“I didn’t deserve it.”
“I would’ve been there for you anyway.”
Landon leans in and presses his forehead to mine.
A part of me heals. A piece of my past. A piece of my heart being stitched back together by the person who broke it. I didn’t know I needed this talk with Landon, or at least I pretended like I didn’t need it.
Landon ends up finding the dead skunk in a corner behind a pile of boxes. After he leaves for his mother’s appointment, I cry for the poor dead animal.
And for the teenage version of me who never thought this day would come.
Landon Fletcher apologized.
What’s more...I forgave him.