Chapter 36
Mallorie Jade
Hayes might have said yes to the date, but he refused to let me plan it.
I argued with him for at least thirty minutes. In the end, I let him win.
Now, he’ll be here in ten minutes, and I’m far from ready. We are going to the waterfall, so it should be as simple as throwing on a shirt, shorts, and a bathing suit. But my mind is making it complicated. This isn’t just a fun trip to a waterfall with my brother’s best friend like every time in the past. It’s more—so much more.
I’ve tried denying this spark between us, but despite our history, it hasn’t died. An undercurrent of electricity runs through my body every time I’m around him, waiting to turn into a full-fledged flame, and I’m tired of trying to tamp it down.
So I took my Mom’s advice, and I kissed him again. I didn’t let myself think of Langston, or the guilt, or even Tanner. I was there in that moment with Hayes, and I knew I wanted more.
Even if the guilt over Langston’s death still sits like a rock in my stomach. I don’t know that the guilt will ever go away, but my feelings for Hayes aren’t either.
A knock at the door has me throwing on my swimsuit, black high-waisted cut-off shorts, and a t-shirt.
It’s not until I’m at the door that I look down and realize my mistake. The shirt I’m wearing is Hayes’s, not mine. I stole it the day I left because even though we were broken, I needed a piece of him to take with me.
I debate changing, but he’s already seen me through the window on the door. I’ll just have to hope that he doesn’t realize.
Smoothing it out, I flip the lock and open the door.
Hayes is standing on the porch, his hands are shoved in his pockets, and a smile plays on his lips. It’s the fire in his gaze that nearly knocks me over, though. He’s looking at me like a man obsessed, and it terrifies me.
His eyes dip down to my feet and slowly climb up, stopping for a minute on my bare legs before they continue their pass up my body. When he reaches my shirt, I know that any hope of him not remembering is a lost cause. The muscle in his jaw jumps, and that flame in his eye turns into an entire inferno.
“Nice shirt, you little thief.”
Words of the past meshed with the future.
The only way I see out of this is to pretend I have no idea what he’s talking about. So I gather my hair in my hands, wrapping it in a ponytail, and then I lie. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Dimples bracket his lips, partially covered by his beard, cut short enough that it’s just above a five o’clock shadow. “Sure, you don’t. I’ll let you get away with that lie because seeing you in my shirt is worth more than calling you out.”
I scoff. “I’m pretty sure, in a roundabout way, you just called me out on it anyway.”
He winks. “Maybe. But you can keep the shirt anyway. It looks better on you than it ever did on me. Are you ready to go?”
Rolling my eyes, I take his hand and drag him behind me to the truck.
“You know, you aren’t starting this first date on the right foot. You have to be nice to me if you want a second one.”
Tugging my hand, he pulls me to stop beside the truck door. Leaning past me, he grabs the handle and opens it. Then his hands are on my waist, and he’s lifting me.
“Ever the gentleman,” I say, teasing him, but his face stays serious.
With his hands still on my hips and my legs dangling in front of me, he steps in closer, forcing me to make room for him. “This isn’t our first date, baby. We’ve already been there, done that, and I’m not going back—only forward from here on out.”
He kisses the tip of my nose, steps back, and shuts the door, effectively shutting off any response I might have had.
When he climbs into his side of the truck, I’m still an emotional mess, tears burning my eyes while he looks as cool as a cucumber.
I hate him—not really, but still.
“Driver,” I say, sniffing away the tears, “Take me to the waterfall.”
He smiles—a heart-stopping smile—and I wonder if he will have to resuscitate me by the end of this date. “Yes, ma’am.”
______________________
The waterfall is a staple in our town, hence the name Benton Falls.
It’s the landing spot for almost everyone, so I expect it to be teeming with people, especially on a beautiful day like this. But when we pull into the parking lot, only two other cars are there.
The waterfall sits inside a state park with several hiking trails surrounding it. It’s probably the best thing about the town. I used to follow Langston and Hayes here every summer when we were younger.
Turning in my seat, I look at Hayes. “Are we hiking one of the trails first or going straight to the waterfall?”
“Waterfall. If you want to hike the trails later, we can, but I need to cool off. I don’t think summer is ever going to end this year.”
“Agreed.”
He opens his door, and I slide across the bench seat to jump out on his side. He catches me by the waist, sliding me down the front of his body until my feet are on the ground.
“Do you ever do anything the easy way?” he asks, tucking a strand of my loose ponytail behind my ear.
I grin, “Not if I can help it.”
The sigh he lets out is dramatic. “I guess I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
“Good thing because I’m too stubborn to change.”
Hayes chuckles, lacing his fingers with mine and grabbing a small cooler from the back of the truck. We walk hand in hand to the wooden trail that leads to the waterfall. The fall itself is about half a mile down the trail. Hikers have to be careful because the trail is lined with tree roots running throughout. Even though it would be easier to let go, Hayes holds my hand as we walk to the base of the waterfall.
It’s nice being here with him. Birds sing in the trees as we walk, and the smell of the Earth fills my nose. It’s a mixture of honeysuckles and dirt floating on the breeze through the trees.
I hear it before I see it. The water falls steady into the pool below, and when we clear the last of the trees, my breath whooshes out of my lungs. The last time I was here was one of the last times I saw my brother happy.
“Do you remember the last time we were here?” I ask Hayes, taking in the beauty of what God created.
“Yeah,” he says, his voice a rasp in his throat.
“He was happy at least for a little while that day, wasn’t he.”
There weren’t many days Langston was happy, but that day he was. We swam and ate and laughed all day long. I wish I would have known it was the last time I would see my brother like that. I would have told myself to take it in more. I would have memorized the sound of his laugh and the dip of his smile.
Hayes runs his hand through his hair. “He was. I’m glad he got one more day like that.”
“Me too.” Even if the memory sits bittersweet inside my chest.
“Come on,” Hayes says, tugging my hand and pulling me with him.
I shake my head, clearing all the memories of years past.
At the water’s edge, Hayes sits down the cooler and strips off his shirt.
My mouth goes dry, staring at his toned skin with my name written on it. I never had a chance. He staked a claim on my heart a long time ago, and he never really gave it up.
“Are you going to swim or stare at me all day? I’m fine with either one. I just need to make my plans.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Nah, but I’ll have you recall the last time you didn’t get in the water.”
I shove at his shoulder. “And we will not be repeating that today.”
Hayes grins. “Then get your suit on, and let’s go before I drag you in, clothes and all. I have something I want to show you.”
Curious, I strip off my clothes, throwing them at the cooler. The water is chilly when I dip my foot in, and I almost chicken out, but then Hayes runs past me, grabbing my hand as he goes and dragging me into the water. When we are fully submerged, he turns back to me, a happy grin on his face.
“You can’t tiptoe into situations that scare you, MJ. You have to take the leap and dive in.”
The water is above my shoulders, and my feet barely skim the ground. Letting go of Hayes’s hand, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist. He’s significantly taller than me, so the water hits him below his armpits. He’ll keep me afloat—he has always kept me afloat.
“Is that what we are doing here—diving right in?”
One hand wraps around my waist, holding me to him, and the other cups my face. “I hope so, MJ, because I’m tired of toeing the cliff. I’m all in here.”
“Me too.” Leaning close, I brush my lips against his. It’s not even a full kiss, just a whisper of my lips on his, but I feel it all the way to my toes.
I pull back, and his gaze bounces between mine. Then he drops his head and kisses me deeper. If I felt the last one to my toes, this one hits me in my soul. It’s slow and unhurried, and all the things I’ve been missing from my life since the day I left town. I’ve been searching for my place, and all along, it’s been here with him.
Hayes is the one to break the kiss, but when he pulls back, he drops one more peck against my lips like he’s forcing himself to stop.
“I want to show you something, remember? Stop distracting me.”
“Sorry.” I try to school my face to look innocent, but I can’t contain my smile.
“Yeah, you look real sorry,” he says with a chuckle. Grabbing my legs, he spins me until I’m on his back, legs still wrapped around his waist and my arms around his neck. “Hold on tight.”
Tightening my arms, I do as he asks, and he swims us toward the waterfall.
There’s a cave that is tucked into the rocks behind the falls. It’s beautiful to sit behind it and watch the water flow down the rock.
Hayes steers us toward it, dunking under the water when we get to the fall. Disentangling myself from him, I grab onto the rocks and pull myself up. His hand finds the back of my thigh, guiding me and ready to catch me if I fall. Once up at the top and inside the cave, he pulls himself up, muscles bulging in his arms.
“Come on,” he says, his face more serious than it has been all day. “It’s toward the back.”
The cave floor is slippery under my bare feet. I put my hand on the wall, letting it guide me in and keep me stable. The back of the cave is maybe five feet from the entrance, shallow, but far enough back that with the waterfall, the light starts to dim.
Hayes stops a foot from the back wall and turns to me.
“Do you remember how you stayed on the bank when we first got here that day with Langston?”
I nod. “Yeah. You guys swam while I tanned.”
“At one point, Langston and I came into the cave and did this.” He steps aside, revealing the smooth wall behind him. Only in one spot, it isn’t smooth.
Three sets of initials are carved into the cave wall.
LH. HM. MJH.
My throat burns as I run my fingers across Langston’s initials.
“Langston and I—we talked that day,” Hayes says, staring at another place where Langston’s name is engraved into stone forever. “He wanted to be remembered for something other than football. He was going to do it too—quit, I mean. He told me that day. Then we left here, and I think he got scared.”
Tears clog my throat, causing it to ache and making it impossible to speak, but I push through, getting out the words I need to. “Scared of what?”
“Of standing on his own.”
I shake my head, trying to work out this new information. “But he wasn’t alone.”
“Sometimes it’s hard for people to see that. You, out of everyone, should know that.”
My brow crumples. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His mouth stays in a serious line as he considers me. “You don’t? There’s a story about why you came back that you haven’t shared with anyone, and I think it’s because you don’t realize that you have someone, too.”
“That’s not—that’s not true,” I say, avoiding turning back to look at him.
He drops his chin to my shoulder, his front pressed against my back. “I think you do. Talk to me, please. I don’t want to start this relationship by holding back again. I meant it. I’m all in. Good, bad, ugly—I want it all. Let me shoulder some of it, baby.”
A sob shakes my shoulders. “Even if the weight drags you down?”
He chuckles. “I think you underestimate how broad my shoulders are. I can take it.”
“Okay,” I concede, “but can we go in the sun for this conversation? It’s getting cold.”
I pull out of his grasp, walk to the entrance of the cave, and slip back under the waterfall. Hayes follows, keeping silent.
It takes a few moments before we are back on the bank, basking in the sun’s rays. Hayes sits beside me, waiting for me to speak, and I search for where to begin.
“After Langston died, I was lost. Everything I thought I wanted didn’t seem so important anymore, so I took a year off to figure it out—away from here and all the people that made it impossible to do.”
I stop here. There’s a flash of pain on Hayes’s face. “Including me?”
“Yeah, Hayes, including you. And maybe I should apologize for that, but I can’t. If I stayed here—I just couldn’t.”
He nods, understanding passing between us, even if it does hurt.
“Anyway, after a year of wandering, I still felt lost, and I started to wonder if things would have been different if I would have—you know, been there. I wanted to find a path to help people because I was tired of feeling helpless. I applied to nursing school, and even though I hated that I would be in the same field as my dad, it finally felt like I fit. I loved what I was learning. After I graduated, I got a job. Up until that point, I hadn’t dealt with—death. Maybe it was luck, but I don’t think so. I got a job at a major hospital in the city, and I started to see death everywhere. It was unavoidable. I became hardened to it. I had to, or I would have lost myself in it. Then I met a man—”
Hayes flinches. “Were you in love with this man?”
I shake my head. “Not in the way you think. He was—I don’t know how to explain it. He was everything light and happy, and there was so much darkness that surrounded me. We never dated, but he filled a hole in me—at least for a little while.”
Scooting closer, Hayes lays his hand on my leg, his thumb tracing over my skin. “What happened?”
“I think—I think I needed the light so much that I missed his darkness. I was working in the ER one night, and an ambulance called ahead. They had an attempted suicide. I—I wasn’t prepared when they brought him in. He was—there was no way to survive it. I failed him.”
My hands shake, and I shove them between my legs to keep him from seeing.
He doesn’t let me hide from him, though. Scooping his hand under my legs and placing one on my back, he picks me up and sits me in his lap.
Like my first day in town, the panic threatens to overtake me. My breaths are quick and uneven, but he takes my face in his hands, smoothing his thumbs over each tear that falls, and whispers, “Breathe with me, baby.”
And so I do, taking a deep breath each time he pulls his in.
When my heart rate evens and the tears stop flowing, Hayes says, “It wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault.”
“But I didn’t see. After everything, I didn’t see. I used him for the way he made me feel, and I couldn’t even save his life in return.”
“You can’t save everyone from the darkness, and sometimes people are so good at hiding their darkness that you never know until it’s too late. Can I tell you a story?”
I nod, his hands still caressing my face.
“After Langston died, I couldn’t see past my pain. I quit football, and I came home. I was lost like you were, but I could see that others were lost too. I couldn’t see past my own pain—until Campbell literally smacked me across the head.”
A small chuckle escapes. “Did you deserve it?”
Hayes laughs with me. “Absolutely. I was so lost in how Langston’s death affected me that I failed to consider how it affected him. He was struggling, too, but instead of moping like I did, he hid his pain behind laughs and good humor. People hide their darkness, MJ. I didn’t see Campbell’s either, and he’s been one of my best friends since elementary school. If I couldn’t see his pain, I don’t think you’re to blame either.”
“Or maybe we’re both a bunch of screw-ups,” I say.
“Maybe, but I’m starting to wonder if we can be more than that.”