His voice breaks. “You’re very wise, Megan.”
“It’s the books.” I turn my head, and we both share a small smile. “You mentioned about him going somewhere …”
“His mom’s grave. I try every year to get him to go, but he always says he’s not ready. Stubborn little ass.” He bangs his fist against the arm of his chair.
“I don’t think he’s accepted what happened to him. I don’t think he’s let himself deal with it.”
“I hope he can. I hope you can deal with it.” Gramps looks at me seriously, his gray eyes like granite. “It’s not easy, what he’s dealt with. What you know is only a small part of the crap my boy went through.”
“I can deal with it,” I reassure him. “And I can help him deal with it. I want to.”
“I like you,” he says suddenly. “You come across as a total romantic, but you have a kick-ass, hard edge to you. You won’t take his shit, will ya?”
“I never have taken his shit, and I don’t intend to start now.” I smirk.
“Do me a favor?” Gramps leans forward. “One day, get him to his mom’s grave. Even just for a minute. And for God sake, don’t let the pretty ass walk all over you. He thinks he’s Mr. Darcy.”
“Then call me Elizabeth.” I smile.
Chapter Sixteen - Aston
Why did he have to bring it up? Of all the things he could talk about, he brings her up. Every f**king time! I don’t want to talk about her. Not to him. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know the same person I did. His ideals are different to mine.
His memories are a thousand miles apart from mine.
I kick at the sand, pulling my jacket tighter around my body, and Megan speaks for the first time since we left Gramps’ house and drove north where no one would find us. “You okay?”
I shake my head. “No. Every time. Every f**king time he brings her up. I thought he wouldn’t in front of you, but he did.”
“He has his own pain,” she says softly. “It doesn’t excuse it, but he does. He feels guilty for what happened to you – that he couldn’t stop it.”
My mind reels, and I look down at her. “He told you that?”
She nods, letting her hand drop from my back, and stands in front of me. I stop.
“You’ve never let him tell you.” She reaches up and cups my face. “He hurts too, Aston. You both hurt. It’s not something that will go away, but you can’t let it rule your lives. If you let pain rule you you’ll get lost in it.”
“What if I’m already lost?”
“You’re not lost. You’re hiding but you’re not lost. I won’t let you get lost.”
I let my hands come up to rest on her back and pull her into me. “What if there’s no map?”
“Then I’ll get lost with you,” she whispers. “I won’t let you let them win, Aston. I won’t let you get sucked in by those demons. I care too much to let that happen.”
And she does. I can hear it in her voice.
She wraps her arms around my neck, and I hold her to me tighter, our foreheads resting against each other.
“I’ll try, Megs,” I promise. “I can’t say I won’t, but as long as you’re here, I think I’ll be okay.”
“And you’ll talk to your Gramps? Just once?”
“I’ll think about it. How about we just focus on stopping me from getting lost for a bit?”
“You just need a place to aim for, that’s all. You need a place to go to.”
“Go on then.” I smile. “Give me a place.”
“Okay.” She pauses for a second, closing her eyes and chewing her lip.
“I’m waiting …” I tease her.
Her blue eyes open, shocking me with their vitality. “Aim for the moon, because even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars.”
“I don’t need to aim for the sky. The only star I’ll ever need is standing right in front of me.” I brush my lips over hers. “Maybe the place I need to aim for is nowhere other than where I am right now.”
“Maybe I’d go with you wherever you ended up.”
“Maybe I’d never ask that of you.”
“Maybe you wouldn’t need to ask. Maybe you’ll never need to ask me for anything, because I’ll always be here.” She silences my upcoming argument by pressing her lips firmly against mine, holding me prisoner in her kiss. Her fingers tangle in my hair, her body fitting against mine perfectly.
My arms tighten around her waist, one of my hands moving up her back to cup the back of her head. She stands on her tiptoes and her tongue meets mine, never relenting in the pressure of her movements.
This girl is sliding between the cracks of me and gripping hold of the mismatched pieces before tearing them apart. She’s studying them, getting to know them, to know me, and then she’s carefully lining them all back up and holding them together.
What she’ll never know is she’s the glue that holds it together.
She’s the glue that holds me together.
~
“So it’s Sunday evening and we’re on a deserted, dark beach in Northern California in the freezing cold, eating ice cream,” Megan summarizes, running her finger around the top of her cone and licking it off.
“That sounds about right.”
“And why are we eating ice cream instead of oh, having a coffee in Starbucks?” She raises an eyebrow at me.
I shrug. “I don’t think they have a Starbucks in … Wherever the f**king hell we are.”
“Wherever we are? Oh, God. Remind me never to let you drive anywhere again.”
“Let me?”
“Yes. Let you.”
I scoop my arm around her waist and pull her into me. “You didn’t let me do anything. I didn’t see you offering to drive.”
“Why would I offer to drive when you could do it for me?”
“But you just said …” I shake my head, smiling at her playful grin. “Never mind. I don’t think it’s even worth trying to f**king understand.”
“No, it’s not.” She beams, kissing me quickly and scooting away. “I’m just one of those people you’ll never understand.”
“That’s because you’re complicated.”
“I am not complicated!”
“If you were simple, I’d be able to understand you.”