The Vincent Boys Collection Page 11

  “Beau? You there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “What is it with everyone? Could someone act happy about me coming home early?”

  I tamped down the small ray of hope trying to break into my thoughts. Surely, he didn’t mean Ashton.

  “I’m sure your . . . Ash is happy you’re back,” I said. I wondered if he’d noticed I’d stopped myself from calling her his girlfriend. I wasn’t ready to accept that. He let out a frustrated sigh.

  “No, she seemed distracted. I just found out about Grana. Man, I hate that I wasn’t here. I guess she’s upset about that, and I’m being selfish, wishing she’d acted happy about seeing me. Have you seen her? Is she doing okay?”

  I had to be careful. She’d made her decision. That didn’t mean I couldn’t change her mind, but I had to protect her.

  “She’s upset. We’ve bumped into each other some. She helped me and Nicole out one night when I’d had too much to drink. Gave us a ride home. I also went to the church last night to pay my respects and all. I remember Grana. She was good to me.”

  Sawyer sighed. “Thanks, man. I appreciate you going. I know it meant a lot to Ash.”

  I slammed my fist against the wall. I didn’t need him to thank me. I hadn’t done it for him.

  “Well, I’ll see ya at the funeral then?”

  No, I wasn’t ready to see them together. Watching Sawyer touch her might send me into a blind rage at Grana’s funeral.

  “I got some stuff to do. I went last night, but you’re back and I did my duty.”

  “Okay. Well, thanks again. I’m not kidding about the weight room tomorrow morning. I need to get your beer gut in shape.”

  “Sure, see ya then.”

  I dropped the broken pieces of my phone onto the coffee table. I needed to make a plan. I needed to think about this. Had I screwed up by letting her go? Had she wanted me to stop her? Ashton Gray was going to drive me mad.

  ASHTON

  “You told Sawyer he was welcome to come eat with us tonight, didn’t you?”

  Dad stood at the door of my bedroom. I’d come home from the funeral and gone straight into the shower so I could cry in private. Once the water ran cold, I’d dried my tears and forced myself to get a grip. What would Grana have told me to do? Would she have told me to go with my heart? Or would she have seen the wisdom in my decision? I thought back to the way Beau had reacted to my words. What had I expected him to do? Fall at my feet in tears? I should be happy he’d handled it so well. I didn’t need hurting him to add to my guilt.

  “Yes. He’ll be here at six.” I sat up from my reclined position on my bed. Dad seemed pleased with that answer.

  “You’ve been so closed off from the world this summer. I’m really relieved Sawyer’s home.”

  I forced a smile so Dad wouldn’t guess anything was amiss. He walked away and closed my door behind him. I lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, wondering how I was going to face Sawyer with the guilt of what I’d done weighing on me so heavily.

  I loved Sawyer. My actions didn’t appear as if I did, but I did love him. The problem was that I wasn’t in love with him. I hadn’t realized there were different kinds of love you could feel for a boy. Sawyer was everything I respected. He was sweet and caring. I never had to worry he would leave me or hurt me. He was impossible not to love. Unfortunately, he had a girlfriend who was a big huge fake. He deserved to know what a fake I was, but how did I go about explaining to him that I put on a show for him, for my parents, for the whole dang town? I couldn’t tell Sawyer anything. Word in a small town got around fast. My mother would be devastated. My dad would be furious. I’d hurt them both, and for what? A guy who didn’t even care enough to respond to me when I broke things off with him? My heart had been breaking and he had been texting someone. Probably Nicole. The thought of Beau with Nicole made me nauseous.

  Picking up my phone for the thousandth time since I’d left Beau’s I checked to see if Beau had texted me. It was pointless. He wasn’t going to. I’d seen the look in his eyes. He hadn’t fought me. It didn’t make sense. Before I’d pushed him away he was ready to tell Sawyer himself and he knew how Sawyer was going to react. Had he just been trying to ease my guilt? Had I just given him an easy out? Had he realized he wasn’t really in love with me but the idea of me? Tears welled up in my eyes. Pulling my knees up to my chest I buried my head against them and cried silently. Nothing would ever be the same. I’d ruined myself. My heart would always belong to someone who didn’t want it and Sawyer would be wasting his love on someone who didn’t deserve it. He deserved so much more than a girlfriend who wanted someone else.

  The doorbell rang and I sat there listening as Sawyer came inside and talked to my father. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I headed to the bathroom to clean myself up before I went downstairs to greet him and pretend like I was okay.

  * * *

  “Here, let me clean this up. You haven’t seen Sawyer in weeks. Go on ahead and go. I know you want to spend some time together.” This wasn’t my dad. He normally wanted us to stay right here under their watch or at least out on the front porch. Rarely did he encourage us to go off and spend time together. Apparently, he was more worried about Beau than I’d thought. But then, he had reasons to be worried about Beau. Maybe it was a parent’s intuition.

  Sawyer stood up with his plate and cup in his hands, always the gentleman. Not only did he clean up his spot at the table, but he rinsed his used dishes in the sink. Samantha Vincent had trained her son well. Or at least that was what Mom always said.

  “Thank you, both, for dinner. It was delicious.” Sawyer smiled at my parents, then turned to me and winked before taking his dishes to the dishwasher. He wasn’t as tall as Beau. I’d never really paid attention to that before. They had so many similarities in their appearance, but they were so different. Sawyer’s dark brown hair was long enough that it brushed his collar and curled along the ends. His lips weren’t as full as Beau’s, but his shoulders were broader. They’d always joked that he had the stronger arm when it came to throwing a football, but Beau had the stronger arm when it came to throwing a punch. I glanced down at Mom, who was smiling the silly happy smile she has when Sawyer’s around. The guilt in my chest grew. She would never smile over me being with Beau.

  “Such a good boy,” she said.

  I forced my hundredth smile of the night and nodded.

  Sawyer walked up beside me and took my hand.

  “I’ll have her home by eleven, sir,” he said, looking at my dad.

  “Oh, don’t worry about the time. I know you two have a lot of catching up to do.”

  Sawyer appeared as surprised as I was. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Dad was popping some of Mom’s anxiety pills.

  The moment Sawyer closed the door to his shiny, one-year-old Dodge truck, he reached over and took my hand to pull me up beside him. There was no stick shift in the way in Sawyer’s truck.

  “God, I’ve missed you,” he whispered before grabbing my face and kissing me softly on the mouth. It was just as nice as I’d remembered. Sweet and gentle and very comfortable. I reached up and threaded my fingers through his thick hair and tried out some of my new kissing moves on him to see if I could get the earth-shattering sensation Beau’s kisses always produced. Sawyer made a sound that reminded me of a growl and dropped his hands to my waist to pull me closer to him. But still, it just remained . . . nice.

  Finally he pulled back, breathing hard, and rested his forehead on mine.

  “That was . . . wow.” I smiled, wishing I could agree. “If I’d been forced to stay away from you another week, I think I’d have lost it. I love my family, but I was having serious Ashton withdrawal.” The guilt inside me twisted cruelly. Tears stung my eyes, and I laid my head on his chest. He was just so good.

  “Ash, something is wrong. I could see it inside when we were at the table. You looked so sad, and your parents are acting differently.”

  “Losing Gran
a was a shock. A hard blow to all of us. I think Dad might have slipped one or two of Mom’s anxiety meds because I’ll agree he’s acting odd. But I’m just dealing. I’m sorry. I’m so depressing and you just got home.”

  He squeezed my shoulder. “It’s okay. I understand.”

  He backed out of the driveway and headed toward his house. We were going down to the hole. I didn’t have to ask. It was secluded and safe. He’d probably call his dad and let him know we were back there, just to make sure all his bases were covered. Parking wasn’t something we would ever be caught doing. It would sully his reputation and we couldn’t have that. I could hear the mocking tone in my thoughts and I closed my eyes to silently scold myself. The bad girl might not go back in her cage without a fight this time.

  * * *

  The truck jostled us around as we made our way slowly over the unpaved path. There was no light out at the hole. The lights from the truck lit up the dirt road, and different small animals scurried out of our way. Once we broke through the tree-covered path, the moonlight shimmered on the water ahead. Sawyer came to a stop. His hand reached up and shut off the engine before he tilted his head down to gaze at me.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here, Ash. Losing Grana like that had to be awful. Are you mad at me for being away?” Not what I needed—Sawyer feeling guilty when he had absolutely no reason to. It made me feel like pond scum.

  “Of course I’m not mad at you, Sawyer. I wish you could have returned to a happy, cheerful girlfriend. You don’t deserve this.”

  He patted my knee and I studied his hand. It wasn’t as big as Beau’s or as tanned.

  “It’s okay. I know the old Ash will show up again once you finish mourning.” He paused and I glanced up at him. A small frown line appeared on his forehead. Something was bothering him. I’d known him most of my life and I knew that look.

  “A few of the ladies from church mentioned Beau holding your hand at the wake.” He let out a forced chuckle. “It bothered them and they thought I should know.”

  I didn’t panic. I got angry. Stupid busybodies. This was exactly what I’d known would happen. Everyone would jump on the Sawyer bandwagon and start bad-mouthing Beau. Like Beau needed them to dislike him any more than they already did. I wanted to howl in frustration, but I took a calming breath and counted backward from ten in my head. Every once in a while the counting thing took the edge off. When I was sure I could respond without sounding livid, I said the first thing that came to my mind.

  “When we were kids, Beau was just as close to me as you were. He sat on Grana’s porch just as many times as you did. He ate Grana’s cookies and played Uno with her just like you did. She was a part of his childhood. One of the few bright spots. He knew you were gone, and he knew I would be devastated. So he came to the church and asked me if I’d gone up to see her. I admitted I hadn’t and wasn’t sure I could. He then encouraged me to go say my good-byes and said he’d walk with me. I guess he saw the fear in my eyes, so he reached down and took my hand. Then we walked together to the front of the church. He let my hand go and stepped back while I had my last few moments of closure with Grana. Then he took my hand and walked me out of the church because, like you, he knows when I’m about to lose it. And he knows the little girl inside enough to know I didn’t want to break down in front of everyone and have them hovering around me.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes. I’d heard the anger in my tone. No doubt he had too.

  “Remind me to thank him for watching out for my girl. I owe him one. It’s about time you two realized you were best friends for most of your life. I always felt a little guilty that it had ended.”

  There he went again, talking about how he felt guilty. I just wanted to go home and bury myself under the covers. This was too much to deal with right then. The guilt, the anger, the frustration, and the pain: They were all going to drive me insane.

  Chapter 12

  ASHTON

  We walked toward the bonfire. I’d decided against telling Sawyer about Ryan’s stupid, drunken episode last week. It was over now, and it hadn’t been so bad after all. Of course, Ryan touching me was gross, but I’d ended the evening with Beau playing pool. The memory of him grinning at me across the pool table as I set up my shot caused my heart to ache. I missed him so much.

  As we made our way into the clearing, several people stopped Sawyer and welcomed him home. Everyone wanted to talk football. I smiled and appeared to be waiting patiently while scanning the crowd for Beau. I hadn’t seen him since I’d walked out of his trailer without a good-bye. Every night since then I’d lain in my bed, holding my phone and willing him to call or at least text me. But he hadn’t. The idea that things would go back to the way they had been before terrified me. I couldn’t be with him the way I wanted to, but I didn’t want to lose everything. My anger at the way he’d dismissed me had dimmed. I just wanted to see him. Talk to him. See him smile at me.

  “Come on, I see Beau and Nicole over there,” Sawyer said as he slipped his hand behind my back and led me over to a small group of football players and their girlfriends. The group was sitting on the tailgate of a few trucks and three old tractor tires they’d hauled out here years ago. A small fire crackled in the middle of the group, putting a warm glow on all their faces.

  “Sawyer. The man has returned,” said Ethan Payne, grinning from his spot on the tailgate of his truck. Brooke Milery snuggled up against him and lifted a hand to wiggle her bright pink nails at us in greeting. They’d broken up last spring, but, apparently, they were back together or heading in that direction. Her legs were draped over his lap and his hand was tucked snugly between her thighs.

  “Come, talk to us. Tell us how you’re going to lead us to state,” said Toby Horn.

  “I’m not the one who nailed the win at the last state game,” Sawyer reminded him as he leaned against the truck and pulled me back against him.

  Toby played cornerback. He’d intercepted a pass at the state championship game last year and made the game-winning touchdown after jumping over two tackles. After the game, his status level had risen, which would explain why the head cheerleader, Kayla Jenkins, was sitting on his lap. She’d been determined to get Beau’s attention last year. It appeared as if she had moved on.

  “You know, that’s right. I think we need to make sure coach gives our star corner some more wide-receiver action,” Ethan piped in.

  “Agreed,” Sawyer replied.

  They continued to talk football, but I couldn’t pay attention. Beau was directly across from me. It was taking all my willpower not to look at him. I smiled and tried not to appear stiff, although I felt uncomfortable with Sawyer’s arms wrapped around my waist. Sawyer leaned down and kissed my temple casually while he talked. I heard something about a blitz and upping the practice time. But all my focus was on not staring at Beau.

  “Earth to Ashton.” Kayla’s voice broke into my thoughts. I jerked my head up and stared directly at her. She seemed to be waiting on me to reply.

  “Um, I didn’t hear you, sorry,” I said, feeling the blush creep up my neck.

  She giggled and twirled a long red curl around her finger.

  “I asked you if you wanted to be one of the spirit girls. Maybe this year our quarterback will actually accept a spirit girl if he gets to choose you.”

  Spirit girls were girls the cheerleaders added to their numbers so every football player would have a girl to make him goodies on game day. Off the record, spirit girls also happened to help their players with their homework, order pizzas to be delivered to the school for their lunches, and do some unofficial things like back massages and other “hands-on” activities. The starters always picked their spirit girl first, then the rest of the players’ names went into a hat and the spirit girls drew them.

  “Um, yes, of course,” I replied.

  Sawyer chuckled. “Then Ash is mine.”

  Kayla smiled, but she seemed more annoyed than amused. “We’re assigning each girl two pla
yers this year. So you’ll have one more boy to take care of. The boys haven’t picked yet, but I doubt anyone else chooses you since you’re Sawyer’s. You’ll have to draw a name.”

  Nicole laughed, and I instantly tensed, preparing for her rude comment.

  Without thinking, I glanced over toward the sound of her laughter and immediately wished I hadn’t. Beau was sitting on the ground and leaning up against a tractor tire, his legs bent and wide open. Right in between his muscular jean-clad legs sat Nicole. She had one arm wrapped around his neck and the other one resting on his knee. It would have been easier if she’d just stood up and punched me in the gut or maybe whacked me around a few times. At the moment the pain would be a welcome distraction to the tightness taking over my chest.

  Beau’s eyes locked on mine. After everything we’d been through together, I hoped I would see some small shred of . . . oh . . . I don’t know. Just something. But he didn’t look fazed by me at all. It was as if those two weeks had never happened. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

  “You know, Ashton, I’ve always wondered what it is you do so right to keep Sawyer on such a tight leash. I mean, you’ve got to be hiding some hidden talent from us.” Nicole’s words were slurred, but they were loud, and I was positive everyone—even people not in the little group surrounding us—had heard her. My stomach turned and twisted. God, I hoped I didn’t get sick.

  “It isn’t one thing, Nic. She’s perfect at everything she does.” Sawyer’s voice sounded as calm and nice as always.

  Nicole snarled. “Doubt that. You’ve just forgotten what a good time feels like.”

  Sawyer tensed, and his arms tightened around me as if he were protecting me. I’d always wondered what Sawyer had done with Nicole in the seventh grade. At times I’d been jealous when she looked at him, as if she knew him in ways that I didn’t. But then, he was so careful not to do anything other than kiss me. I figured he had to be as chaste as I was—“was” being the important word.