Until Then Page 10

  Time sucks.

  “What time is your flight exactly?” he asks, straightening the piano bench and lifting the lid. He’s guarded again, the same Crew I’ve known since before 15 minutes ago. How can he act like nothing just happened? Or ignore the nothing that was going to happen?

  “It’s at 6:30am, a few hours from now.” I straighten myself up and try to calm my insides down.

  Crew stops and scans the store as I pull out my phone from my bag to call for my car. The only indication that he’s cognizant of what just happened is when his eyes land on my mouth and he stills before he’s about to take a step.

  “Look, Summer —” He starts walking toward me.

  Oh, please don’t.

  “Crew, you don’t need —”

  He holds his hand up to stop my words. “I won’t have what happened last year happen again,” he says, right in front of me, dropping his hand. “I’d like to take you to the airport. I have some things I’d like to talk to you about. Sebastian is 10 minutes away. We can get him on the way. You’ll have plenty of time for your flight.”

  Crew’s control of the situation isn’t nearly as impressive as his control of himself. He’s proper and calculating and composed. A sting lingers on all the places he touched me.

  “Will you please let me take you?” he asks, looking hard into my eyes.

  Take me? Yes, please.

  Take me to the airport? Sure.

  I nod my head and smile, grateful that I get to spend a little longer with him but disappointed that whatever we just shared together is no longer a thought for him.

  That thought consumes me as I keep repeat the same words in my head and gather my bag to leave.

  It. Always. Ends.

  13.

  Crew

  Riding to the bar, Summer stares out her window, turned away from me. The tension in the car is strangling me, the silence screaming my fears. What have I done? I wonder what she’s thinking about, but I can probably guess. Since I can’t stop thinking about it either.

  Kissing her.

  I have to talk to her. But I can’t yet, not until I get my brother out of yet another fucked up situation. I need to figure out what I’m going to tell Jacob, the bar owner. When he tried to call me to tell me that Sebby was becoming belligerent and refusing to leave, Sebby punched him in the face. And four other guys, too. Who are now looking to teach him a lesson in their own colorful, gang-led way.

  “I’ll be right back,” I say to Summer as I park the car behind the building and head into the bar through the back door. Kate told me that Jacob had him sobering up in the office, which is good considering that there’s at least 12 bikes out front.

  Shit.

  The stench coming from the office punches me in the face. Smells like a used ashtray and a closet full of clothes soaked in cheap, regurgitated beer. Seb is rolling around on a dirty cot, stuck in the hazy phase between puking and passing out.

  Jesus.

  He’s got a fat lip and a shiner on his right eye. Both are well-deserved, I’m sure.

  “Come on, man,” I pick him up by his arm, praying the movement doesn’t make him puke. He’d better pass out in the car. He’s heavy as I sling his arm over my neck. He also reeks.

  “Hey baby bro. Why you here? You gonna finally have a drink with your big brother?” Seb slurs his words, his head suddenly too heavy for his neck to control.

  “No. Let’s go. We’re leaving.” I start dragging him to the door.

  “I can’t leave yet!” he yells and stops us. “I need to get back my damn money.” Christ.

  “Not now. We’ve got to get out of here before Jacob calls the cops on you.” I pull him toward the door.

  “Jacob’s not gonna do shit,” he slurs, emphasizing the t.

  “Ok. Well, then let’s go before you get stabbed to death.”

  “Those guys ain’t gonna do shit either. They’re all fucking talk.”

  Just then, Jacob appears in the doorway, growling beneath his bleeding lip. He’s like a bear, big and angry and filling the double door frame.

  “Sorry, Jacob,” I say, grateful that he didn’t call the cops. He nods his head to me.

  “Just get him out of here,” he grumbles. “I don’t want to see him in here again,” he huffs. “That’s the last favor you get from me, C.”

  “No problem, man,” I reply, squeezing past him and hustling toward my car. Thank goodness for long-term favors. And cousins who keep their word.

  Just as I reach my car, I look toward the front of the building and see a few bikers standing together, staring at us, arms crossed, pissed as hell.

  Fuck.

  I open the back door and shove Seb in. “Stay the hell down,” I tell him as he lies across the back seat. He looks like he’s about to pass out. Good. I’m taking a big risk here. I look to Summer and let her know I’ll be one minute. She looks worried, so I wink at her to let her know that everything’s ok.

  Walking over to the bikers, I spot Drew standing in front, although now they call him “Bones.” I’m guessing he’s one of the leaders now since his patch says “Veep.” Doesn’t surprise me, considering that his father was part of the MC.

  “What’s up, man,” I extend my hand to shake his. Drew and I grew up together, and we’ve been through a lot of rough times. He was always a good friend, but then he disappeared when he joined the MC. We lost touch completely when I took off traveling.

  “How’s it going, Crew?” he says with a gruff, shaking my hand.

  “What’s the damage?”

  I know I’ve got to atone for whatever Seb did to piss these guys off. Or they’ll never leave him alone.

  Drew glances back to his guys then back to me. “Just tell your brother not to screw with our girls, keep his business to himself. We don’t like outsiders coming in and throwing around their cash just to steal our bitches.”

  Of course. Money and girls.

  “I know you, Crew. And I know that piece of shit, too. And the only reason he’s able to breathe right now is because you’ve always had my back. I may owe you one, but he better not show his ugly fucking face around here again. Or you won’t get here in time.”

  “I get it, man. I get it.” I reach into my back pocket and pull out a few bills. “Here,” I hand Drew $300.

  “What the fuck is this for?” he asks.

  “The inconvenience,” I shake his hand and nod to his friends. I don’t need to make enemies with these guys.

  Drew takes the money and gives me a one shouldered hug, although he’s a lot bigger than me so I only come up to his bicep. “Alright, man. Take it easy,” he says. “I mean it. These guys ain’t got no patience for some hotshot asshole like him.” I nod my head in agreement, and his gang walks away.

  Always putting out fires.

  As I get into the car, I glance in the back seat and see Seb completely passed out. Excellent. I look to Summer who’s wearing a bit of a smirk.

  “I’m sorry about him,” I say. “I’m sorry about this whole thing. I had to answer when Kate called. She never calls me.” I rub my face to erase the last time Kate called me. Sebby was caught driving his own stolen car.

  “Who’s Kate?” she asks.

  “My cousin. She only calls when there’s a problem.” I want to make sure Summer knows that Kate isn’t a threat to her. I look back when Seb makes a ridiculous noise. “The airport’s not too far. I don’t think he’ll bother us, though.”

  “I don’t think so, either,” she chuckles behind a closed smile.

  What’s so funny? “Did he say something to you?”

  Summer tilts her head back and forth playfully teasing me. “Not much.” What is she hiding?

  “I thought we agreed to stop being weird,” I remind her.

  She laughs. “No. You agreed to stop being weird. But I think that got blown to hell about 15 minutes ago when we got in this car.” She shrugs one shoulder flirtatiously.

  I inwardly laugh. She’s got me. “Good
point. Now what did he say?”

  She turns her body toward mine and glances over the back seat at a snoring Sebastian. Facing me, she says, “He asked me if I was your bitch.”

  Christ. “And that’s funny?” I ask her.

  “No. But when I said, ‘No,’ he laughed and said, ‘Good. You’re too hot for him anyway.’ Then he passed out. I don’t know. It made me laugh.” She shrugs her shoulders and looks absolutely adorable.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re in a good mood. But don’t mind him. He’s pretty wasted.” I start the car and turn to head for the airport.

  “Are you calling him a liar?” she asks.

  “No. I’m calling him drunk.” I wink at her, and she understands immediately that I think she’s beautiful.

  I pull out and head for the airport. I need to clear the air with Summer before she leaves, and I don’t see her again for a whole year. We drive in silence for a while. Since the airport isn’t far, I park the car in short term so I can walk Summer inside.

  She looks to the backseat before we start walking.

  “He’ll be fine,” I smile. “This isn’t the first time, nor will it be the last.”

  I burn the sight of her half smile into my brain to store it for easy reference, scared that I won’t see it next year.

  “Do you like doing that?”

  “Doing what?” I ask her.

  “Rescuing your brother from his misdemeanors.”

  I think about that for a moment. “Not particularly. But I do it.”

  “Why do you do it if you don’t want to?”

  I shove my hands in my back pockets to keep from reaching for her. Because sometimes that’s all I want to do — reach for her, hold her, and not let her go. “Because I promised my mother I would.” We start walking slowly. “Sebby is always pushing his own limits, getting himself into trouble. He’s an incredibly smart guy; he can always talk his way out of sticky spots. So he constantly challenges himself, and sometimes he goes too far. Like this one time he went skateboarding down the middle of the road during evening rush hour traffic. It was a dead stop. He went about 7 miles before the police stopped him. And he talked his way out of that one, too. He said he did it as a public service announcement to prove to the commuters that greener transportation is a better option.” That story makes me chuckle, remembering Sebby’s enthusiasm recounting it. “He’s a good guy; he just needs someone to have his back every now and then.” I shrug my shoulders. “When my mother was in her right mind, she asked that I help take care of Sebby, keep him out of trouble. Of course I agreed.”

  She stops walking and faces me, pain reflecting in her beautiful face. It’s not pity but compassion I see. She feels for me. She makes my heart skip a beat. “You’re a good son, Crew Evans,” she says, pressing her palm to my cheek. “I think your parents are really proud of you.” After squeezing my shoulder, her hand slides down and tangles into my hand. Then she smiles, and my heart skips a lot of beats because those words make it stop altogether.

  I need to clear the air. Now.

  “Summer, what happened before —”

  “Crew, you really don’t have to —” she stops herself, uncomfortable talking about the sex we didn’t have.

  “I don’t have to what?”

  “Apologize. It was mindless of both of us.”

  Is she kidding? Taking her face in my hands, I say, “Summer, I would never apologize for kissing you.” I lock eyes with her to convey my sincerity. It must be working considering that I don’t see her take a breath for a few seconds. “It’s no secret that I’m drawn to you. I mean, I go to the cemetery every year on the same day just to see you, talk to you, take your picture, be in your life — for a few hours a day, at best. But I don’t stop thinking about you all year.” Calm down, Crew. I drop my hands before I devour her.

  “I think you’re fascinating, Summer. I’ve never met anyone like you — so deeply connected to their passion, so consumed by their love for something that it actually looks like they wouldn’t be able to breathe without doing it. That their passion is what makes their heart beat.” I shake my head, unable to understand how I can be standing here, with her. Summer Perry. THE Summer Perry.

  “Crew…that’s you.” She searches my eyes. “You should see yourself working with your camera. You’re so knowledgeable. So competent. So lost in what you’re seeing through the lens, consumed by the focus inside.”

  Oh, no. She’s starting to feel it.

  “Summer, what almost happened on the piano would have been amazing. But I — I won’t do this to you.”

  “Do what?” she asks quietly offended.

  Looking into her eyes, I see exactly what I don’t want to see.

  Hope.

  “You are leaving. And we won’t see one another for a whole year, at the very least.” I grip the back of my neck to strangle the forming thoughts from begging her to stay. “I don’t want to give you hope or promise or commitment to something that will just be a moment after today.”

  She’s silent.

  She’s.

  Silent.

  Now I’m dying inside.

  Oh no. “I didn’t mean it that way. I meant —”

  “Why does it have to be just a moment? Why does it have to be ‘just today’?” she interrupts.

  I might hurt myself later for asking this. “What do you mean?”

  Something changes in her face, like she’s finding a resolve she hadn’t had before. “I mean, why do we have to stop talking after today? Why can’t we be…friends, at the very least? Friends who talk and text and be in each other’s lives, albeit at a distance.”

  Oh, Summer, Summer.

  “I actually look forward to today,” she continues, more animatedly. “For years, February second was a day I dreaded. It made me sad and angry and hurt and empty. And I came back here to try to find something that might mend all those painful feelings. I’ve always felt like I’m living in a never-ending nightmare. Like Groundhog Day incarnate. I hated it. I hated everything about this day. Then,” she smiles, “two years ago, you walked out from the shadows. And while I was annoyed at your eavesdropping, I liked spending time with you.”

  I chuckle inside. “Even after what happened last year?”

  She smiles bigger. “Even after what happened last year. I was immature. You were persistent —”

  “Persistent?” I ask, chuckling. “That wasn’t persistence. It was restraint.” She has no idea.

  Summer squints her eyes at me in an adorably flirtatious manner. “You call sending me constant messages restraint?”

  “Yes,” I retort quickly. “Because if I hadn’t exercised restraint, I would’ve flown to New York to hunt you down and lock you in a room just so you could talk to me without leaving.”

  Her surprised look makes me say, “I hate it when you leave,” quietly, almost under my breath.

  She laughs tenderly. “Well, why didn’t you fly to New York?”

  Taking a serious breath, I say the thing I don’t want say, “For the same reason that we really shouldn’t be ‘friends’ who talk and text and be in each other’s lives. You have something incredible that you’re doing there. And you need to do it. You need to focus on you, you need to go and discover the new love of your life, and you need to explore who you can be without any whispers in your ear.” I take her hands.

  Summer shakes her head no.

  “I’m right about this, Summer. When you make the choice to take complete control of your life, when you decide to take the leap of faith with both feet forward, you shouldn’t be looking back at who you’re leaving behind. Your eyes needs to be forward, looking to your future and what you want for yourself. If you’re with me, if you’re waiting for me, then you’re not fully focused on you.” I close my eyes for a minute to say the thing I don’t want to say. When I open them, all I can see is the sadness running over her. I want to take it all away from her. “I told you before that I’m trying really hard not to fall in love wi
th you, Summer. Well, the way you’re looking at me right now is making it pretty fucking difficult.” I smile and cup her face in my hands again. They want to be here. They want to be touching her.

  “Please don’t make my mistake, Summer. Please don’t fall in love with me. Not yet anyway. I want to give you happiness and devotion. I want to make you smile. I want to capture the beauty that is inside of you. But I can’t do that from here. You need to be in New York or traveling wherever you need to go freely, without the guilt of leaving me behind. I want you to explore this next part of your life. Because it will be exhilarating and mind-blowing and life-changing. You’ll experience the most profound sense of freedom. You don’t need sadness to cloud it.” I kiss her forehead. “I’m not worth your sadness, Summer.”

  I’m not worth your sadness. Ever.

  Her eyes are welling up with tears. She knows I’m right.

  “Crew, I think about you all year. This year, I came here early to relive some memories of my father, and it was wonderful. But I also wanted to see you. I felt my heart breaking when I got to the diner and you weren’t there. I come here to see you.” She sniffs and shows a tight smile. “I see your pictures. I know you’ve seen mine. I want you to be a part of my life.” She sniffs again, fighting the tears. “But you’re right. I want to go and explore this part of my unknown. And it will be difficult for me knowing that I could be with you instead.” Her sad smiles starts breaking my fucking heart all over again. “Maybe someday.”

  “Maybe someday. I’ll be here next year waiting to hear how your life went this year. And Summer…?”

  I see a tear forming on the corner of her eye and wipe it away with my thumb. “Yes, Crew?”

  “I. Can’t. Wait.” That makes her smile.

  “Until then,” she says and kisses me tenderly.

  My heart fills then bursts from hearing her give me the special send-off she usually saves for her father.