Into the Deep - Young Samantha (список книг .txt) 📗

All eyes but Lowe’s and Jake’s turned to me.

I blanched. “He didn’t!” I denied vehemently.

Jake jerked at the denial and whipped his head around to me. “He didn’t?”

“No, I didn’t,” Lowe answered for me, his eyes fixed on Jake. “I kissed her. One kiss. We stopped. Decided it was a bad idea. But since you dumped Charley years ago and flaunted a new relationship in front of her for months, I’d like to know what business it is of yours who Charley fucks and why just the thought of some lucky guy going there stirs you into a blind rage?” His eyes narrowed now and suddenly it occurred to me that Lowe wasn’t as unaffected or nonchalant as he let on. He was pissed at Jake. Big time. His voice was rough as he continued, “Sort your fucking head out, man, before you lose friends and worse … hurt someone who definitely does not deserve to be hurt by you again.”

After a few seconds of hard-faced death stares, Jake’s shoulders slumped wearily and he scrubbed his hands over his face.

I felt sick.

Never did I want to be the girl who caused a fight between anyone, let alone friends, and I definitely didn’t want to be the girl to put blood on Lowe’s face and that look in Jake’s eyes.

“Talk to him,” Claudia whispered, coming to a stop beside me, her fingers squeezing mine. “We’ll get Lowe cleaned up and head into town. You take Jake for a walk. You need to work this out before it implodes. No more avoiding.”

Swallowing the nausea, I nodded at her and watched as she quietly and calmly herded everyone, except for Jake, back into the lodge.

Claudia gave me one last bolstering look and disappeared inside.

Jake looked over at me, a riot of emotions roiling in his dark eyes. I felt those emotions blast into me and take hold, pleading with me to go to him. Instead I turned in the opposite direction and began to stride away with the hope that he’d catch up to me.

He did.

Soon we were walking downhill, side by side, the atmosphere between us thick and exasperating and a little frightening. We’d always, always felt too much around each other. Jake punching Lowe was proof enough of that.

“The thought,” he suddenly said, his voice raspy, gruff, “the thought of you being with him, with anybody … I was sitting in there trying to get past it, trying to tell myself it wasn’t my business, but it just … it was eating at me and eating at me and I just had to get it out.”

“By punching Lowe?”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

Taking a deep breath of crisp, clean air, my voice shook a little as I replied, “We’re not together. Who I sleep with shouldn’t matter.”

“But it does.”

“Jake …”

“Did the thought of me being with Melissa bother you?”

The question hurt like a mother and I stopped so I could glare up at him in disgust. “You don’t deserve an answer to that question.”

Jake stared down at me sadly. “No, I don’t. But I need it.”

I didn’t say anything for a while but slowly his anguished expression loosened the words until they fell onto my tongue and right out of my mouth. “Why do you think I started avoiding you? I need to move on from us, Jake, and I couldn’t do that and be around you … and Melissa. When I heard you broke up with her … that didn’t really change how I felt.”

He hung his head, his fingers scrunching into his hair. “You put up a good front. I used to be able to read you but you seemed fine. I kept looking for some indication, something …” He shrugged unhappily. “Then your dad’s attitude at the airport … I couldn’t get the questions out of my head. What did it mean? Why was he still pissed on your behalf? Did you want me still?” He breathed softly. “It caused another huge argument between me and Melissa. We broke up in a fucking taxi,” he sighed sadly.

Every word he said repeated in time with the hard thud of my heart. “Is she okay?”

He shook his head. “She wasn’t at the time. But it’s been almost a month so … I don’t know. I never meant to hurt her. Never. But I started to think maybe you weren’t fine. That you were just lying to protect yourself. Then your question on the train …” He looked up from under his eyelashes, studying me. “It gave me hope. Until you went back to avoiding me again.”

My body jerked at the unexpected comment. “Hope?”

Jake nodded, shoving his nervous hands into his pockets. “I wasn’t looking for anything from you. I never imagined you’d ever want me back. Not after what I did, how I acted.” He turned now, starting to walk again and I found myself hurrying to catch up, my breathing shallow as Jake’s confession became my whole world. “A few months after we moved back to Chicago, I still wasn’t doing well. I wouldn’t talk to my parents, my grades were slipping, I spent most of my time holed up in my room listening to crap music, and I was … pretty good at pretending to be numb.”

“What happened to Brett wasn’t your fault, Jake,” I reminded him quietly.

“I know that,” he nodded, “I know that now. But back then, I couldn’t get the what-ifs out of my head. For the most part, I did a good job of negatively associating you with it all.” Jake’s gaze was apologetic when he saw me flinch. “That didn’t last long. Three months after we left Lanton, I was up in my room and I still had a lot of moving boxes lying around. My parents paid for a company to pack most of our stuff and transport it back to Chicago, so when I opened one of my boxes, I wasn’t expecting to see you there. I’d forgotten about the tickets to Blind Side and that frame I had on my bedside table …”

I hugged my arms around myself, remembering the photograph that Lukas had taken of me and Jake leaning against Hendrix. He had his arms around me, I had my hand on his stomach, and I was smiling up into his face. Jake wasn’t smiling but the expression in his eyes told everyone who looked at that picture that he was in love with me.

I’d loved that photo. So had Jake.

Tears formed in the back of my eyes and I fought hard to restrain them.

“I pulled out that photograph and as I stared at it, it was just a floodtide. I remembered. I remembered how much I loved you. How happy you made me. How much you could surprise me. How hard you made me laugh. And what it felt like to feel you laughing against me. To hold you. To kiss you. To be inside you.” He shot me a dark look and my breath caught. “I remembered what I said to you. I remembered every tear on your face when I broke up with you, and I couldn’t believe I was the one who put them there. That’s when it hit me: there was no going back. When I threw you away, somewhere deep down I think I believed it would be okay because we were us. We were solid. But reality set in after the fact. After what I did? There was no way I could win you back.” He glanced warily at me. “I lost it. The blame, the guilt, the anger, the loss, it all just swallowed me whole. My parents heard me yelling and breaking things and by the time they got to my room, I’d trashed the place and I’d cut my hands on the picture frame glass.” He shrugged sadly. “That makes me sound psycho, I know … but think of it from my perspective. To me, in that moment, it was like you’d died too.

“My parents made me talk to someone and it helped with all the other stuff—Brett’s death, his dad’s campaign of hate, and my responsibility in it all, or lack thereof. I’ve accepted what happened wasn’t my fault. I won’t forget it, but I’ve gotten through it. You,” Jake’s smile was crooked, halfhearted, and rueful, “were harder to deal with. So I went back to my old ways instead.”

Meaning he slept around a lot. I ignored the unpleasant clench in my stomach at that thought. “Then you met Melissa.”

“You should know I applied to Edinburgh on the off chance you’d be here and I’d get to apologize, find some closure. Never, not once, did I ever believe I could get you back.”

“So you’d given up and you moved on.”