I keep my eyes on hers, watching the sadness and desperation consume her. “So you be his legacy.”
Her eyes snap to mine, her breath completely leaving her. “But… I thought I belong to you now?”
“It doesn’t have to be either/or, Riley. It never has to be. You can have us both. You can have it all.”
Twenty-Five
Riley
For the next week, we spend every spare second together and when we’re not together, we text—something he’s gotten a lot better at. We leave the confines of my room and spend most of the days in his garage working on putting the engine in the shell that had been delivered. He’s been over twice since. Once with his dad and brother.
I still don’t know what he wrote to my mom. I stopped “nagging” as he puts it, after a couple days.
We keep up with his shoulder rehab. I force him to. I keep all records in the notebook from his last visit and make sure I have everything I need for when we go back next week. Maybe it’s dumb to assume it’s important, but it is to me. Besides, I love watching him do it. The best part is when he takes his shirt off and does one-handed push-ups—using his left arm, obviously.
There’s definitely a difference between a boy’s body and a man’s. Or maybe it’s just Dylan. Yeah. I’m going to say it’s just Dylan.
His buddy in Afghanistan has called twice using my Skype. I leave the room when they talk. It just seems too private and, to be honest, I’m not sure I’m ready to hear what he has to go back to when he finally does go back.
We don’t talk about it—what will happen with us when he leaves. Because like he said, he’s here. Now. And that’s more than enough.
“You’re turning into a grease monkey,” he says, eyeing me from under the hood of the Honda.
I look down at my clothes and the grease stains smeared on my white shirt. “I am!”
“It’s hot, Ry.” He stands to his full height, stalking toward me with a wrench in his hand. He has that look in eyes. You know, that look. The one that tells me he’s pretty much done with the car for the day and the rest will be spent with me in his arms while he makes me laugh. I love that time of day. Almost as much as I love him.
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and takes a picture. (Side note: it took me fifteen minutes to show him how to use it.) Then he drops his wrench on the bench next to where I’m sitting and settles his hands on my legs. “Feel like helping out?”
“Not right now. I just like watching you.”
“Quit treating me like a piece of meat, Hudson. Jeez. I have feelings you know.”
Giggling, I lift his tank up and peek at his abs.
He slaps my hand away. “My eyes are up here,” he jokes, then pulls the collar of my shirt down and peers down. “Is there some sort of Dylan-gets-to-be-in-my-pants schedule you’re working with that I should know about?” He nuzzles his face into my neck, kissing it gently. “Throw a kid a bone here.”
My fingers part through his hair—hair that’s gotten longer since he came home. “You have to earn your bases, Rookie.”
He mocks an exaggerated sob.
I roll my eyes. “There’s no crying in baseball!”
“That reminds me,” he says, reaching behind me. He drops a book on my lap. “I got you this.”
I smile. “Part two of the pause?”
“Yep. Luce called this morning and said it came out today so I went to the store and got it. Now you can see how it ends.”
“You’re the bestest boyfriend ever,” I announce.
He laughs at that, just as his phone sounds with a text.
I reach for it before he can get to it and when I read the text, I wish I hadn’t.
Heidi: Hey… So, I’m in town for the weekend. I heard you were back. I’m free now. Just seeing if you wanted to catch up. For old time’s sake.
“For old time’s sake? What does that even mean?” I ask.
He moves away from my neck, his eyes already narrowed. Then he takes the phone from my hand and reads the text. He looks up.
“Have you been talking to her?” I ask.
“No. This is the first time she’s contacted me.” He’s still holding the phone. He wants to reply.
“I’m not going to stop you from talking to her. Or seeing her. Or doing whatever it is…” my voice drops to a whisper. “…for old time’s sake.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not like that, Riley.”
“But you want to see her.”
He shrugs, his response giving me nothing. “If it’s going to cause issues then I’ll just tell her no.”
“It’s fine,” I say, my tone clipped.
“Obviously not.”
“I just don’t get why you’d want to see her. Do you miss her?”
“No!” His head drops forward. “Jesus, Riley. You’re making this impossible. I could’ve lied. I could’ve ignored her message now and then seen her behind your back but I don’t want to keep anything from you.”
“Well, you are!”
“What?!”
“You are keeping something from me!”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Why do you want to see her?”
“Closure,” he yells. Then softer, “I just want closure. We left things at such a shitty point and after you and I talked about it, our relationship made more sense to me than it did when I was actually part of it. So I just… I don’t know why.”