47. Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Seven
JULIAN
Hand in hand, Andrea leads me up the snow-covered stone pathway to the large wrap-around porch.
Before I know it, I’m being enveloped in a motherly hug, and my cheeks are pinched and pecked.
To say I’m surprised by such a welcome is an understatement.
I hadn’t expected to be treated like they’ve known me for years.
The fear that had been present in Andrea’s eyes vanishes quickly as I witness her smile through tears when her parents welcome her with open arms.
The warmth radiating from these people shocks my system—not that I expected cold shoulders.
Elaine, Andrea’s mother, pulls me in for a second hug and her father, Charles, has to literally pry her off me. “Ease up, you’ll kill the man before I get the chance to decide whether I need to.”
Andrea is a spitting image of her mother, but she has her father’s eyes. Despite his jest, they’re the type of people you only have to meet once to know for certain they have genuine and kind hearts.
My girlfriend was right about one thing though: I’m Bigfoot to them.
“Dad, please stop,” Andrea grumbles.
He ignores her plea as he places his hand in my offered one. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Mr. And Mrs. Sommers. You have a beautiful home.”
“Oh, my goodness,” Elaine Sommers gushes, clinging to her husband’s arm. “Just look at him, Charles. Isn’t he just gorgeous?”
“I’m so sorry for her,” Andrea rushes out, coming to stand next to me. “Mom, cut it out! You’ll scare him off.”
“She means well, darling,” her father assures her while giving his wife an encouraging pat on the shoulder.
Elaine lifts an elegant brow. “Sweetheart, if the man has seen what eighteen years of ballet has done to those feet, I doubt I’ll be the one to scare him off.”
Andrea’s head falls into her hands, and she presses her forehead into my shoulder, using me as a shield against her blatant embarrassment. I stifle a laugh and kiss the top of her head. “She has a fair point.”
She pinches my forearm and glares up at me. “You’re supposed to say I have pretty feet.”
“Do not make a liar of the poor man,” Charles says quickly and pats me on the arm.
Before either of us can respond, a wobbly, harsh voice cuts through the air.
“Move it, you heathens. Let me get a look at the pair of ’em.” An older woman with a gray perm, smelling of hairspray and cinnamon, pushes through the bunch. “What a lucky woman she is to find you.”
“In truth, I think it's the opposite.”
“Ah, good man,” she praises, shaking her index finger in the air. She lifts onto her toes, and I have to bend down when I realize she wants to squeeze my cheek. “Bravo, Andrea.”
I grin. “Your granddaughter speaks very highly of you.”
“Pfft!” She dismisses that with a wave of her hand but looks at Andrea with pure delight as she leans over to hold her in a quick embrace. “I’m so happy you’re home, sweet girl. Your mother has been talking my ear off for months over your visit.”
“I heard that,” her daughter-in-law mumbles.
“Oh hush, you’ve been a nightmare. Tell her, Charlie.”
He freezes from where he is slowly making his exit into the house. His wide eyes connect with his wife’s, who is glaring daggers at him in warning and then his mother’s expectant ones.
“How about we let the two of ‘em settle in, eh? They’ve done a lot of traveling,” he says, dodging his mother's request. “I’ll go see if Mile’s needs any help with, uh. . .” He departs with that.
Andrea snorts beside me.
“You cause that man unnecessary stress, Bea.” Elaine sighs, shaking her head in defeat.
She turns her nose upward and places her hands on her hips. “Someone should make sure the brain behind that thick skull of his is still functioning.”
“I’ll show Julian upstairs. What time are we eating?” Andrea cuts in; no doubt for a good reason. I can’t tell if the women hate each other or if it’s merely tolerance.
Elaine looks down at her watch. “The food should be ready in another hour. You two can go settle in.”
IT'S A STRANGE FEELING to know you comfort someone. What’s even more strange is knowing you mean something to them .
I’ve never been able to open up with anyone like I have with Andrea, but I can’t help the sinking feeling I get at the thought of saying too much.
The last thing I want to do is scare her away.
Maybe I’m programmed to be this way and there’s no way to get past it.
My body will always know the memory of leaving.
It’s well acquainted with ghosts of my past—the ones that left me for reasons I am stuck with forever living inside of me.
While I’m not bitter about what I’ve been through, it’s still there; steady and haunting when it wants to be.
My mind is a scratching claw and my thoughts bleed into every part of me that believes every awful thing I can think of myself.
My past is not something just any person can take on and I understand that more than people might think.
The closer I let myself get to Andrea, I realize that I no longer want to shy away from that part of me.
For the first time in my entire life, I want to strip myself bare for someone and let them see me for everything I am made of.
Something tells me she won’t run, but it’s not enough to take away the fear entirely. She has this certain look in her eyes when I catch her watching me. I don’t know that I can risk losing it. I rely on that look a lot more than I can admit out loud.
I follow Andrea as she leads me through the house, her hand grasping mine tightly. Green and red decorations fill the open area of the living room, dining room, and kitchen. A ten-foot-tall tree sits in the corner, next to the window that overlooks the beach.
“Your family, uh, really likes Christmas, huh?” I ask, coming to a stop next to the bright tree. “Do they always decorate like this?”
She smiles fondly, the lights twinkling in her eyes. “Always. Holidays are a pretty big deal around here.”
“That’s nice,” I say, and I mean it. It’s always a nice reminder to know that not all children have a shit childhood.
“Yeah?” she asks, bumping her shoulder into mine. My eyes drop to her rosy cheeks and lips.
“You are. . .” I trail off with a sigh as I turn to face her completely, placing my hands on both sides of her face. “So beautiful.” With wide eyes, her cheeks redden more. Grinning, I place a quick kiss on her nose and take her hand back in mine. “Show me the way, ma cerise.”
She collects herself, clearing her throat twice. Dipping her chin, she states, “Right, yes.” She turns, taking me with her once more as we ascend the curved staircase.
When we reach the top, there are two hallways opposite each other and a large bay window. Below is the patio covered in lounge chairs and a tarp-covered in-ground pool. Beyond the window is the beach.
“I can’t even imagine what it was like to grow up in a place like this,” I say, following her down one of the halls.
“I always wondered what it would have been like if I was raised in a city. Before you went into the system, you lived in a small town in Massachusetts, right?” she asks for confirmation, and I love the little detail she remembers about me.
I nod. “Yeah. I grew up in a small town, but I’m more familiar with Boston since I was older, and that’s where my longest placement was.”
“With Abigail?”
I nod again.
She gives me a small smile. “Take me some time?” she asks. “I’d love to see it all. Everywhere you’ve been.”
My brows lift in surprise. I’m not so sure about everywhere, but some places maybe. “To Boston?” What I want to ask is, y ou’re thinking of a future with me ?
Biting her lip, she dips her chin. “There and the town you grew up in.” She laughs sheepishly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I mean, only if—”
“I would like that,” I tell her, smiling in contentment. For once, the thought of going back doesn’t seem so daunting if I’m going there with her.
She beams and I suddenly feel this urgency inside of me to take her anywhere she wants—anywhere in the world.
We stop in front of a door and with her hand on the knob, she takes a deep breath. “I think it’s important for you to know that you’ll be the first boy ever that I’ve let enter this room.”
“Not even Mason?” I question.
She shakes her head. “I lied and said there was a password, but there wasn’t one, so he could never guess it.”
I chuckle, but knowing this delights me more than it should. She opens it and I step in behind her, beyond intrigued to catch a glimpse of anything that resembles her.
My eyes go to the shelves lined across the wall with trophies stacked on trophies. Small ballet shoes hang on the corner of one of the shelves. In the center of the room is a bronze-colored Victorian-styled frame bed with a pink comforter loaded with all sorts of pillows and stuffed animals.
There’s a desk in the corner of the room and two filled bookshelves next to it. Then there’s a dresser, the top of it loaded with pictures of her throughout the years.
Every single one of her accomplishments exists inside of this room. I know she’s fond of the memories, but at the same time, I also understand why she left it all behind .
I hate that I know something about her before she was able to tell me. I hate Carter for telling me about her heart disease—I’m pissed at what having this unwanted knowledge does to me.
I want her to tell me herself, but every day the admittance inches closer and closer to the tip of my tongue.
You want a family. I want her to have a life. His words still burn me like the moment they were said.
There’s a part of me that wishes to save her from me, but at the end of the day, even I know that’s not my decision to make.
I trust Andrea—perhaps more than I’ve trusted anyone else. It’s terrifying. If I lose her, what then?
She takes a running start before flopping onto her bed, pulling me away from my thoughts.
“Kind of like ballet threw up in here, right?” I chuckle, walking over to take a seat next to her as she readjusts to sit on her knees.
“Hey,” she says softly, maneuvering herself to straddle my lap as if we’ve done this sort of thing a hundred times.
She runs her hands through my hair and my eyes shut in relief.
“You got quiet on me,” she ponders out loud, her eyes searching for something in mine that I’m not quite sure how to show.
“I’m just thinking,” I murmur, opening my eyes to look at her as I run my palms up and down her jean-clad thighs.
Her head dips closer. “About what?” She presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth and then another on my cheek, distracting me.
Her open affection is still something I find myself getting used to.
I’ve never been in this position before.
With Eden, it was different because it was sort of just something that I fell into because I wanted a change in my life.
Willow was an entirely different story that ended with me making a fool of myself by grasping at straws.
I use love as my only weapon because, for the majority of my life, I’ve had nothing else to offer anyone.
Many times, I’ve been reminded of that and many times I’ve felt the burn of watching someone walk away with nothing in tow of what I’ve given them.
Love is a fleeting thing for me—it never stays long enough for me to know how it really feels.
I love fast and I love hard—that’s my nature with people, but with Andrea, I feel every step I take with her. I’m aware of every little thing about her. She challenges me without even knowing it. Our beginning was by chance, but the rest is up to us.
With my heart in my throat, I admit, “I don’t ever want to lose you.”
She presses a kiss to my neck and then looks at me with furrowed brows. “You won’t.”
I push her hair behind her ear with my knuckle. “What if I don’t deserve you?”
“Julian,” she says quietly, her thumb tracing my ear lobe delicately. “ What if you do?” she asks. “What if we deserve each other?”
“I’m not fluent in this sort of thing, Andrea, but I want to be,” I say, and I hate that I’m laying my biggest insecurity out in the open for her to see.
“Fluent in what?”
“Keeping someone.”
She smiles softly. “You don’t even see it.”
“See what?”
Her lips ghost mine and a shiver rolls through me. “Don’t you know?” Dropping her forehead to mine, she says, “I met you, Julian, and the sun came out.”