Chapter 17
We didn’t talk about it. After the Ferris wheel, we ate more fried food, played a few more games, and then Dreux took me home. He walked me all the way up to the front door and bid me a goodnight, a warm glow in his eyes and a soft smile on his face.
And then I spent the entire weekend replaying the moment over and over on a loop. Between tasks and answering the phone at Angela’s, all I could think about was Dreux’s lips on mine. What it would it feel like to do it again. To have his arms around me. Would I feel suffocated or safe?
I considered Dreux and it was more than obvious: I’d always feel safe around him.
One kiss and I was already a wreck.
“Will you be okay if I head out?” Scott poked his head into my room.
It was Wednesday evening, and I was sitting cross-legged on my bed rereading the passage from Steinbeck and listening to a classic rock mix.
It was only eight and we’d already eaten dinner. Plus, after almost a month of living with the guy, it was safe to say he had no social life. It was all about me if he wasn’t at work.
“No, you’re good.” And then, because I was feeling playful, I studied his heathered black tee and dark jeans. I wiggled my brows. “Is it a date?”
Scott paused, his eyes brightening as he let out a quiet “Oh.” He scratched awkwardly at his neck. “I’m just heading over to Larry’s for band practice.”
“Oh.” Still, I was curious. “Do you date?”
Scott peered at the carpet. “Not right now. My priority and focus is you.”
I wondered if he’d had a girlfriend at any point after my mother.
For the longest time, it was just the two of us, my mother and me, until she met Richard and gave him a chance.
Sometimes I thought she was caught up in the newness of dating and too quickly fell for the guy since he was the first after Scott.
They had their moments, but my mother was more low-key despite being from an upper-class world. I could tell Richard would’ve rather she played into the trust fund baby or socialite role as he took her around his rich friends. But my mother was down to earth and humble.
Scott was either thirty-seven or thirty-eight—I had to get the small things about him down—way too young to be closed off. We were still figuring each other out, but I wanted Scott to be happy. To not be alone. To be loved.
“I’ll be eighteen in April, Scott, don’t let me hold you back,” I teased, only half serious.
Something like sadness crossed Scott’s eyes as his shoulders took a dive. “You’re not going to college, right?”
I knew it was ideal, but I couldn’t see myself there. I didn’t want to waste anyone’s time or money. “As of now? No.”
Scott nodded, looking away from me as he focused elsewhere around the room. “You plannin’ on going back to LA then? To be with your mom?”
He wouldn’t look at me, not wanting to see me reject him if I did.
I missed LA. I missed my mother. I missed the sun. My friends. Hanging out in bars and debating music.
But Meadow Grove was nice, too. When I’d first met Dreux and discovered he listened to pop music, I thought it was a joke.
Now, we argued over which Harry Styles album was the best. Really, they were all good, and my favorite thing to do was lie back and listen to them with him while obsessing over the lyrics.
It hadn’t been that long, but Meadow Grove felt like home. I liked the life I was slowly building here. Even if my friends did all end up leaving me behind as they headed off to college.
“Maybe not. This place isn’t that bad,” I confessed with a small shrug.
Relief swept through Scott as he visibly released a breath and relaxed. “Good to know.”
“But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t date,” I was quick to add.
Scott ducked his head. “So I’ve been told.”
Down below I could hear the front door ringing just over the sound of Skid Row.
Scott pivoted toward the staircase. “Expecting someone?”
My phone laid beside me and a tap at the screen found no missed calls or texts. “No.”
I got out of bed and followed Scott down to the first floor. Behind the frosted glass I spotted Dreux at the front door. And suddenly I was nervous.
Scott looped his key ring around his finger and smiled back at me before pulling the door open.
And there he was.
My religion? Dreux St. Julien in a tight gray T-shirt.
The top accentuated everything I knew about his body.
Before Meadow Grove the closest thing I had to a type was thin rock star wannabes who smelled of cigarettes, whiskey, and bad decisions.
Now, I was beginning to see the benefits of boys and organized sports.
“Evening, Dreux,” Scott greeted him as he stepped outside and past him.
Dreux tipped his head toward Scott. “Hey.”
In Dreux’s hands was a camera, something that caught Scott’s eye. “School project?”
“Something like that.”
Scott glanced my way. “Won’t be gone too long.”
He took off for his truck and I let Dreux in. A hint of his cologne breezed by me and I hoped he didn’t notice me shiver.
Dreux stood beside me watching as Scott climbed into his Ford before I shut the door. He regarded me with a small smile that made my cheeks warm.
“I got something I wanna show you,” he said, tilting his head to the side.
And then, as if he knew the house better than me, he took the lead down the hall, leaving me to follow. He went over to Scott’s den and took a seat at the piano.
“You play?” I asked as he got situated.
Dreux snorted. “I practically grew up in this room before baseball.” I shouldn’t have been jealous, but I was. He looked my way and patted the spot next to him. “Come sit.”
Something in my chest jumped and I felt a flush wash over me. How was I hot and cold? God, I’d hate to be coming down with something.
Internally, I was a mess, but I outwardly played it cool as I sat beside him.
Dreux didn’t say a word. He was busy pressing his fingers to the keys and beginning a tune. It took a few notes into his playing before I recognized “Just for Fun” by Beyoncé and Willie Jones.
“No way,” I let out as my mouth fell open in awe of Dreux’s impeccable skill.
He tossed me a grin. “Sing, Sabrina Carpenter.”
I hated myself for smiling like an idiot at the remark.
My phone was back in my bedroom, but Dreux was prepared as he got up and slipped me his cell phone before going and propping up the digital camera to record us.
The thought made me nervous.
“What if I suck?” I bit my cheek, staring at the lens apprehensively.
Dreux looked back at me after he made sure the camera was stable and secure. “You won’t.” He said it matter-of-factly, giving me a boost of confidence.
He came back and sat beside me. With a wink, he began to play.
I gathered his unlocked phone and searched Google for the lyrics. After a deep breath, I found myself looking Dreux’s way one final time before I began to sing.
At first, I worried over my pitch and the overall sound of my voice, but then because I did love the song, I got lost in it.
At one point I felt Dreux look up from the keys and watch me. His heated stare made me almost stumble, but I kept my focus down on the lyrics on the screen before me. He never looked away and I never stopped singing.
The entirety of Cowboy Carter was truly phenomenal, but what I loved most about “Just for Fun” was how raw and real it felt when Beyoncé sang it.
The emotion packed into each lyric, the lines themselves and what they meant.
A song about persevering despite all the bullshit, all the grief and pain you could be dealing with, just to keep going and finding one’s purpose. Whatever that was.
Singing the record made me relate to it even more.
When I finished the last note, I blew out a breath, hoping I hadn’t sounded bad.
Dreux blinked, slowly peeling his gaze from me before standing up to stop the recording.
“Well?” I asked as he stood quietly going over the footage.
He lifted his head and regarded me seriously. “You’re amazing.” He shook his head, as if at a loss for words. “Your voice…your tone…you’re incredible, Saylor.”
I shrank a little, not expecting those words. “Really?”
“Yes!” Dreux rushed to say. “You gotta let me upload this. YouTube—hell, even social media.”
Singing was just something I did in the car, while I cleaned my room, or was out at a bar with the guys. If Dreux thought I was good enough to share, why not?
“Okay,” I agreed. “Who knows, maybe I’ll become a famous hobo when we graduate if it works out.”
Dreux’s brows furrowed. “Why would you end up a hobo?”
I shrugged. “I’m pretty sure I’m not going to college.” I focused down on my jeans. “Don’t really have any dreams or big aspirations either. I don’t want to save the world; I just wanna live in it. I mean, what else is there for me?”
Dreux considered my words, taking his time to form a response. “Why not college?”
“I don’t want to waste anyone’s time if I don’t have an idea or plan for myself,” I confessed.
Dreux set his camera down and came closer.
“Education’s never a waste. Even if you go in without a major or idea, there’s no telling if you’ll be inspired or not.
Or maybe you’ll take a gap year to really lock in.
Either way, college isn’t the be-all and end-all.
If you don’t go, that’s okay, too. You’ll find your niche. ”
His words were gentle and encouraging. Free of judgment. Exactly what I needed to hear.
“Thanks. You always know just what to say,” I said.
Dreux looked on at me, soon lifting his chin. “What feels good?”
“This.” My cheeks heated and I was quick to add, “Music, I mean. Whenever things were shit back in LA, whether I was fighting with my mom or pissed at the world, everything made sense when I was lying in my room listening to music.”
“I know what you mean,” Dreux agreed. “How’s your room here? After going all Rolling Stones and painting it black?”
I laughed and gave him a thumbs-up. “Solid reference.”
Outside of painting the walls, I hadn’t yet really made my room my own.
I stood up, immediately feeling nervous. “You wanna see?”
Two minutes later we were up in my bedroom. My music was still playing. We stood in the middle of the floor as Dreux studied everything, though, it wasn’t much.
He came back to me. “I like it.”
The white ceiling and gold wooden floor saved the space from being too dark and moody.
“Thanks.”
Dreux took in my attempt at doing homework where I abandoned my book and notebook on my bed. “English?”
“Trying,” I joked.
“Lane helping you?” Dreux suddenly asked.
His question came out of nowhere, almost tripping me up. Earlier that day Lane had sat in front of me and offered to study with me if I wasn’t understanding the assignment.
I thought he was being nice. The whole Meadow Grove way and all.
“He offered,” I said.
“You interested?” Dreux wanted to know next.
There were two different ways to take that question. So, I went with the one that felt like it was subtle, like we were talking about something beyond homework help. “In Lane?”
Dreux watched me, nodding quietly.
Oh.
In truth, Lane was cute, but after the carnival…
“He’s… I… You…” I fumbled pathetically with my words. No, I wasn’t interested when the boy in front of me had me acting so unlike myself.
“Can I tell you something, Saylor?” Dreux asked, taking a dangerous step closer, a ghost of a smile on his face. He stopped at my ear, the heat from his body making the hairs on my neck stand. “I love it when you blush for me.”
Holy. Shit.
Dreux reeled back and I gazed up at him, suddenly realizing the sensation that took over me whenever he was this close. He made me feel like a girl. In the best way.
But fuck him for making me like this.
I rolled my eyes and tried like hell to be casual. “Whatever.”
I went to move away, but Dreux’s hand caught my waist and halted my escape.
He stared down at me, serious again. “I really want to kiss you again. It’s all I’ve been thinking about.”
Same. But I didn’t say it. Be cool, Saylor. “So what are you waiting for, huh?”
Dreux grinned and I was a complete goner.
His arms came around me and I put up no fight. I was right where I wanted to be. His lips met mine and everything stopped and made sense.
David Bowie was singing about life on Mars and Dreux St. Julien was kissing me. And honestly it was perfect.