A Grateful Kind of Love Read online

  “And you liked it?” He chuckles.

  I playfully hit his knee. “It was a little aggressive,” I admit, “but too soft.”

  “Well, if you have to kiss her again, I’ll step in. Just stick to kissing the guys. None of them will kiss you like that.” He squeezes my hand.

  “Okay.” I nod, thankful for Bass’s plan.

  The rest of the game is uneventful, for which I’m grateful. I hit my excitement limit for one evening. After everyone has had their fill of bottle-spinning, the Lady Gaga playing from the speakers is turned up, and a dance party breaks out in the living room.

  My arms raised in the air, I dance across from Bass, singing out loud. It feels good to let loose and just be happy.

  A few songs later, a guy wearing only a thong is wiggling around the space.

  My eyes go wide, and Bass laughs, throwing his head back.

  “Have you had enough fun for one day, chica?” he asks.

  “Yes, please.”

  He shakes his head and grabs my hand. “Let’s get you home before things start getting crazy.”

  I let out an audible groan as I pull the sports bra over my head. So tight. I suppose it has to be to keep the girls in place, but until it’s adjusted properly, I always feel like I’m being strangled. Let’s face it, number two on my new healthy lifestyle list isn’t sitting well with me this morning. It’s all mental though. I didn’t drink last night at the party, nor did I get home too late. I got nine solid hours of sleep, so I can’t be tired. Yet every part of me wants to crawl back under my covers.

  I won’t let myself succumb to self-destructive behaviors anymore. I’m taking my life back, one painful moment at a time. I have to keep going through the motions, completing the steps, showing up, working hard, and eventually, it won’t be so difficult. Someday, it won’t be work but simply life.

  My therapist speaks my language with the list that she prescribed me. If I can do anything, it’s complete a checklist. Until Landon, my entire life consisted of lists and plans, and it worked for me.

  I finish lacing up my tennis shoes and grab my phone and earbuds before exiting my room. I find my half-naked roommate and some dude passed out on the futon. They clearly had so much fun that they fell asleep before making it to her room last night. I’m not even mad, not anymore. Megan and I will never be besties, but I’ve learned to just accept her for who she is. I mean, who am I to judge? That girl has slept with half of campus without getting pregnant while I got knocked up on my first night here.

  I let the music drown out my thoughts as my feet hit the pavement. Running has never been my favorite, but finding the right music helps. I challenge myself to hit the sidewalk with a step on every beat. It keeps me moving until my muscles ache and my lungs burn.

  My body halts, and I bend over. My hands clutch my waist as I catch my breath. I stretch my sore muscles and wait for my heart rate to return to normal. I start to walk and realize that I’m only a block away from Landon’s house. I continue in the direction of his place even though my cowardness wants to turn around.

  I can’t ignore this. I know that. Speaking to Landon is an important item on my list, and there’s no time like the present.

  Standing on his front porch, in front of his door, I wait and pull in some calming breaths before knocking lightly.

  Tom answers.

  “Hi. Is Landon home?” I ask.

  “Yeah, he’s in his room. Come in.” Tom opens the door wider.

  “Actually, can you get him for me? I’ll just wait here.”

  Tom’s eyes squint in question, and then he leaves me standing outside in the cool fall air. Moments later, a sleepy-faced Landon appears in the doorway.

  “Hey, Ames. Come in.” His arm extends, motioning for me to enter.

  “I can’t stay long. Can we just chat out here?” I question.

  “Sure. Let me grab a jacket.” Landon disappears into the house.

  It’s silly, I know, but I just can’t go into Landon’s room where it’s warm and full of memories. I need to stay here where it’s chilly and my mind is clear.

  Landon steps onto the porch and closes the front door behind him. I lead us over to the porch swing and sit down.

  “When did you get back?” he asks.

  “Friday night,” I tell him.

  He nods, and though he looks disappointed that I waited two days to come see him, he doesn’t say so.

  “How are you?” he asks.

  “Better. The official verdict is that I’m depressed, which I’m sure you’ve already figured out. I saw a therapist while I was home and am on a new plan to help me get back to me, you know?”

  “That’s good. That’s wonderful, Amy.”

  Landon’s hazels shine with love. I know he cares deeply for me and only wants the best for me. Yet, when I look around this front porch, the words he said about our baby echo all around me. The hurt resonates in my bones, and I’m angry all over again. Letting it go is on my list, but I can tell by the deep ache of my heart at this moment that I won’t be crossing it off anytime soon.

  Maybe that’s for the best. I need to focus on myself, and ultimately, Landon is a distraction I can’t have.

  “Listen,” I say, “I just came by to tell you that I’m back, and I’m getting better. However, I really need to focus on myself right now and school. I don’t want to hurt you, but a relationship wouldn’t do either of us any good right now. I hope you can understand that.”

  “Um … okay. I mean, obviously, your health is most important. I just don’t understand why you can’t get better with me around, but I can respect your wishes.”

  I see the longing in Landon’s gaze, and I want to comfort him, so I stand to leave.

  “I’m sorry,” I say with a shake of my head. “We’ll talk later.”

  “When?” He stands.

  “Christmas,” I answer. “I’ll see you at home on Christmas.”

  “We can’t talk any more until then?” he questions. Sorrow lines his voice, but I choose to ignore it.

  “No.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry,” I say again. “I have to go.”

  I hurry off of the porch, only stopping when his voice calls my name.

  “Amy?”

  I turn around to face him. “Yeah?”

  “If you need me, I’m here. Okay?”

  I nod once before turning and jogging away.

  Amy

  My parents.

  My sisters.

  Confidence-building black sweater.

  I open my dorm room door and am surprised to find my sister Lily on the other side.

  “Surprise!” she squeals and pulls me into a hug.

  “Hi! Oh my gosh. What are you doing here? I thought Mom was picking me up,” I say as I hug her tightly, so happy to see her.

  “She was going to, but she forgot that she’d signed up to make all of this food for Keeley’s classroom’s holiday party tomorrow. You know Mom; she’s not the out-of-the-box kind of girl. She’s at home, making everything from scratch.”

  “I’m really surprised she let you drive up here by yourself.”

  Lily just turned sixteen a few months ago. It’s only about an hour and a half drive from our house to Ann Arbor, but our parents didn’t let me drive more than a ten-minute distance my whole first year of driving.

  “They didn’t. They made Jax come with me. He’s out in the car because we’re totally illegally parked. There’s no parking around here.”

  “I know, which is exactly why I decided to leave my car home this semester.” I grab my bag and lock the door before following Lily down the hall. “They do realize that Jax is also just sixteen?”

  She laughs. “I know. But they trust him.”

  I hop in the passenger seat of my mom’s SUV.

  “Hey, Ames!” Jax greets me.

  “Hey!” I say with as much gusto as I can muster, but the truth is, seeing Jax makes me think of Landon. They are similar in appearance.

 
Lily hops in the backseat, and Jax pulls out into Ann Arbor traffic.

  “How was your first semester?” he asks.

  “It was great,” I lie.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t hitch a ride home with Landon,” he says casually.

  I haven’t seen Landon in over a month—well, technically. I saw him walking across campus once, but I turned the corner before we met on the sidewalk.

  Honestly, I’m still in a funk. It’s a struggle every day just to function. I hate it. I’m taking anti-depression meds, which are definitely helping, but it’s still been rough. I stayed home for a few weeks at the beginning of November to see my doctor and try to get my meds right and to have a handful of sessions with a therapist. My professors were all very understanding and allowed me to do much of my work at home.

  I just wish the loss of the baby and Landon didn’t affect me as much as it does. I’m still not in a good place, but I’m a great actress, and the only people who really know my true heart are Sebastian and Mom.

  When I came back to school after my mental health hiatus at home, I met with Landon and told him that I needed to focus on myself and school, which was the truth, but not seeing him every day is hard.

  “Yeah, um,” I answer Jax, “I finished my classwork a couple of days early and wanted to go home. I haven’t been home in so long. I didn’t want to wait for Landon to finish.”

  “His last class was this morning actually,” Jax tells me.

  “Oh, I didn’t know.”

  “Yeah, but he’s not coming home until Saturday. Probably has a party or something,” Jax says.

  “How’s life, Jax? Are you still with Bridgett?” I ask, changing the subject.

  He shakes his head. “Nope.”

  “Bridgett only lasted two weeks,” Lily tells me from the backseat. “He’s with Penelope now.”

  “Who’s Penelope?” I wonder aloud.

  “She’s new this year, a senior. Her dad’s in the military, so they move around a lot,” Lily says.

  “Ah, gotcha. Dating the older ladies, huh, Jax?” I kid.

  He just shrugs.

  “Do you like her, Lil? Is she cool?” I ask Lily.

  “Yeah, she’s fine. She’s nice enough.”

  “Hmm …” I say. “Sounds like a story there.”

  Jax chuckles. “There’s no story.”

  “Have you heard if Landon is dating anyone?” I ask Jax.

  “You’d know better than me. Don’t you two see each other?” He sounds puzzled. “I thought you’d be hanging around all the time.”

  “Um, yeah, I see him but not much. College is busy. We have different schedules.”

  This seems to make sense to Jax. “Well, you know Landon. He’s probably dated tons of girls but no one serious. That’s how he is. He’s not one to call home and tell us about his current hook-up.”

  “True,” I say. “So, Lil, what dessert are you making this year?” I ask, ready to change the subject.

  Lily and Jax always come up with some crazy dessert for our holiday gatherings. They usually make something we’ve never had, but more times than not … it’s delicious.

  “Oh, I’m so excited about this one. So, it’s like a chocolate mousse but different …”

  I listen to Lily explain what’s going into each of layer of their dessert. I nod or act excited every now and then. But the fact is, my thoughts are zeroed in on Landon and what it’s going to be like to see him Sunday at our Christmas Eve dinner. I should’ve thought more about how awkward it would be to see him at every family function if things didn’t work out. But I wasn’t thinking about anything other than how good it felt with Landon when we first hooked up. I wasn’t thinking at all, and now, I have to deal with the fallout of my decisions.

  I’m so excited to go home to see my family. I’ve missed them so much. Yet I can’t stop thinking about him. God, I wish I could.

  I suppose we’ll see how good of an actress I am come Sunday because there are only two options. One, my acting ability is so amazing that no one suspects anything. Or two, I give everything away, leading to an exceptionally uncomfortable conversation with our families. I pray it’s going to be the first, but I suspect it will be the latter.

  I slide another sweater over my head and pull it down over my chest before checking it out in the mirror. This is the fifth shirt I’ve tried on. I twist from side to side in front of the full-length mirror on the back of my bedroom door, taking note of the way the tight sweater fits from all angles.

  It’s good, I think.

  It’s black, so it makes me look skinnier. It’s tight, so it accentuates all of my curves. It’s V dips just enough to show the start of my cleavage without being inappropriate. It’s a good balance between casual and formal, especially paired with my dark skinny jeans.

  I’ve clearly spent way too much time finding the perfect outfit for today.

  My youngest sister, Keeley, swings my door open and comes bounding into my room. I take a quick step back, so the door doesn’t hit me.

  “Gosh, Kiki, knock, please.”

  “I’m sorry. Mom wanted me to tell you that everyone’s here.” She looks me up and down. “You look pretty, Amy. I love your hair.”

  “Thanks.” I have to stop myself from tearing up. My emotions are having a rave within my heart, and it’s hard to stay composed. But her compliment eases some of my anxiety at seeing Landon.

  Keeley tilts her head and looks at me funny. “Are you okay, Amy?”

  I wave her off. “Absolutely, just tired. I’ll be right down.” I give her a wide smile, to which she grins back before turning and skipping down the hall.

  I pull in a deep breath and take one more look in the mirror. After primping for two hours, I think my outside is looking as good as possible. Now, if only my inner strength could match my outward appearance.

  Walking down the steps, I can already hear laughter coming from downstairs.

  As I walk down the stairs, I imagine my mom’s face if she were to find out that the ex-boyfriend George I told her all about is actually Landon. There’s no option for failure here.

  I zero in on my mom and walk directly toward her without looking at anyone else. “Do you need any help, Mom?”

  “Nope. We’re all set, babe,” she answers me as she finishes putting crackers around a cheese platter.

  I find my dad and Mr. Porter chatting in the living room. I plop down on the couch next to my dad.

  I wipe my damp hands against my jeans. I’m roasting. Maybe a sweater wasn’t the best choice. I feign interest in what my father is saying to Mr. Porter, but I don’t hear any of it. What I do feel is his eyes—on me. I feel it as if his stare were tangible, burning me with its intensity.

  I look over to Landon and shoot him a shy smile. He’s wearing dark jeans and a navy fitted shirt that stretches across his arms and chest, hinting to the beautiful body that I know so well. His hair is a bit longer than usual, his normal chunks falling to the side against his forehead. Without the sun of the summer, his deep blonde hair is darker now, too, almost brown. His eyes though are the same—an intoxicating mix of green, brown, and gold—and they hold me with their intensity.

  He gifts me with a smile in return, and it brings a firestorm of feelings down on me—memories of our brief time together and how perfect we were as a couple. I’m overcome by dueling emotions—desire and caution. It’s obvious that my body still craves him, but I know we’re not good for each other—at least, not right now. For me, life is back to vision boards, lists, and schedules. I’m getting back on track.

  My dad offers to refill Mr. Porter’s drink, and before I know it, the two of them are standing, and another body is plopping down beside me.

  God, he smells so good.

  “Hey,” he says quietly, his voice hesitant.

  Pulling in a steadying breath, I lift my gaze to meet his. His face is so beautiful that it makes my heart race, and I know I won’t make it out of today, unscathed. An overw
helming longing invades every pore because I’ve missed him. I’ve missed everything about him. I’ve missed the joy I felt in September. I’ve missed how loved he made feel.

  My eyes drop to his lips. I’ve desperately missed his kisses.

  His lips.

  His touch.

  His sounds.

  I briefly close my eyes, and when I open them again, I’m staring directly into his. His gorgeous hazels are usually so full of life, but now, they admittedly look sad.

  I swallow.

  “Hi.” The word is soft, quiet, but heavy.

  He clears his throat. “God, Amy … I miss you.”

  “I know, but we can’t do this here,” I whisper with an air of warning.

  “We need to talk,” he says.

  I nod. “Okay. After dinner.”

  “Okay,” he agrees. He gently squeezes my knee and gives me a soft smile before getting up and walking toward the happiness on the other side of my sorrow.

  I watch him walk away. With each step, I long for him. I lust for him. I love him.

  And then I remember that I can’t have him.

  Amy

  Pressing pause.

  Good-bye kisses.

  My strength.

  I make it through dinner with a simple inquiry from my dad, asking if I feel all right. Once I assured him that I do, the topic was dismissed. We’re now in the food-induced coma between Christmas Eve dinner and dessert where everyone breaks off to do their own thing. Our fathers are in the media room, lounged back in recliners in front of the big screen, watching ESPN. Jax and Lily disappeared somewhere. They’re always off, playing some sort of a game designed just for the two of them. My mom, Landon’s mom—Susie—and Keeley finished cleaning up and are sitting at the kitchen table, gossiping—the moms with coffees in hand, Keeley making one of her complex bracelets out of tiny multicolored rubber bands.

  Landon exits through the back door, shooting me a look before he does. I grab my jacket and follow him. The brisk wind hits my face as I step onto the back porch, sending a chill through my body. I zip up my jacket before wrapping my arms around my middle. I continue to follow Landon as he walks out toward the wooded area behind our house. He stops in front of an old oak tree where three lonely swings sway softly as they hang from the strong branch above. I remember my dad putting these swings up years ago for my sisters and me. Though I can’t remember the last time I actually swung on one of them.