Chapter 13
I watched as Mom kissed yet another relative goodbye. The knot in my stomach tightened as I glanced at West. His eyes met mine, and his lips twitched a smile as he pressed his palms together. He nodded to what Dad said, but I could tell he was hardly listening. Dad’s eyes flicked to mine, and West leaned back, saying something I couldn’t decipher. Dad’s brows rose, and then his chin dipped in agreement. They stood, and my body rushed with chills as Vickie and Mom came back into the room. There were a handful of relatives left, and I knew now was as good a time as any.
“West was just offering to help with the dishes,” Dad said, smiling at me.
I had no idea what the game-plan was.
Tell Mom and probably Vickie and try not to scream or flinch or cry.
Be a grown-up.
I swallowed. It was much easier said than done when my body was already starting to react to an attack it hadn’t received yet.
“You should take that nice sweater off.” Mom cocked her head, and I watched as West’s muscles tensed. He had a gray v-neck t-shirt underneath. “You wouldn’t want to get it wrecked.
“No, of course not,” West replied, tipping on his heels.
Vickie blinked at him, and I wondered if she was checking him out secretly. Bile rose in my mouth. West was an attractive man — the same age as Bobby would be; her son would be. I could hear my pulse rushing in my ears, and then the words slipped out.
“West did a piece of art for me to remember Bobby by, and if I’m not mistaken, ones for Adam, too.”
Vickie seemed to have a reality check, and a blush crept up her cheeks at the mention of her sons. She breathed in through her nose. “Really?”
West’s brows deepened over his eyes as he looked at me.
“I can show you.” I lifted my chin.
I could do this.
“Really? You have a picture on your phone?” Mom asked, leaning towards me.
I fought the urge to move away as I slipped the sweater off. “Not quite.”
Mom’s eyes flicked to my forearm, and her jaw clenched. “Another one?”
I locked eyes with West. His face was white. I turned so she could see the butterfly on my shoulder.
“This one is for Bobby.”
Mom coughed into her hand, her head swaying back and forth as I slipped the sweater back on. She licked her lips before looking over at West.
“You’re a tattoo artist?” she asked, her voice low.
West twisted the watch on his wrist. “Yeah.”
“A world famous one,” I added, and my eyes went to Vickie.
Her eyes flicked over West’s face, and her voice cracked as she asked, “What did Adam get?”
“A hockey stick crossed with a guitar. It’s on his forearm where Riv has the arrows,” he replied, and his eyes moved to mine as my jaw dropped. He shook his head as if to say no, I didn’t know.
It’s a crazy coincidence.
“I thought you and Adam weren’t speaking?” Vickie asked as she turned to me.
“We haven’t since I left, but West and Adam are good friends. I knew West knew Adam, but West didn’t know I did.” My chest loosened as I saw the softness in Vickie’s eyes.
Her lips parted. “So you each have Bobby with you all the time.”
“Yeah, that’s the point.”
Vickie pressed her fingers to her mouth. “I may not love tattoos, but I can appreciate that.”
Mom’s mouth went slack as she stared at her best friend. She opened her mouth and then closed it before looking at West. He pointed to the kitchen.
“We should get on those dishes.” West slipped his sweater off and handed it to me. Mom’s head jerked back as she eyed him in all his tattooed glory. I saw Angela practically fall off the couch out of the corner of my vision, and I pulled my lips into my mouth to keep from laughing.
“Now, that’s David Beckham,” Vickie said.
I laughed. “Yeah, his nickname is Beck.”
Vickie squeezed my elbow. “I’m going to head home now. It was good seeing you.”
“You too,” I replied, and I meant it for the first time in what seemed like my life.
I looked at Mom, and she had her tongue pressed into her cheek. She blinked hard at me, and I stepped forward.
“Look, you have a right to your opinion, but I expect you to reserve your judgment for when we’re not around and respect us enough to treat us with dignity,” I said, and her eyes widened.
“Okay,” she replied, and I gave her a smile before heading into the kitchen to help West.
Dad turned as I came in the room, and I nodded over my shoulder. “You might want to check on Mom, maybe bring some Aspirin.”
Dad chuckled as he walked past and handed me the drying towel. I bumped my hip into West’s or tried, but since he was so much taller than me, it was more like his thigh.
“How much does your mom hate me now?” West asked, and I could feel the anxiety coming off him in waves.
I leaned up and turned his chin to kiss him. His body relaxed against mine, and I pulled away. “To hell if I care.”
“Oh, what a rebel you are,” he replied, and I wiggled my eyebrows.
“I always told myself I didn’t give a shit what she or Vickie thought.” I dragged my lower lip through my teeth. “But I did. I cared so much.”
“And now?” West asked, handing me a casserole dish to dry.
“I actually don’t. I’m happy, and I’m not going to let them or what they think about the things I love change that,” I said, and the air caught in my lungs as I froze, dish halfway into its cabinet.
Things I loved; West included.
My hand started shaking against the weight of the dish and I put it in its spot, keeping my back turned as I slowly closed the cabinet door. I couldn’t turn around. I didn’t know if West caught what I’d said, and I didn’t want to know what his expression said about how he felt.
Or did I?
His hands found my hips, and his chin went into my shoulder. “Things, huh?”
“Some things more than others,” I replied, turning and putting my arms around his neck.
He arched a brow. “What things?”
I let my hands slip down to his biceps, and then into the back pockets of his pants. He rolled his eyes.
“Can’t you just say it?” he asked, and his green eyes bore into my soul, cracking it open and sealing it closed at the same time.
“Can you?” I asked, and his head jerked with a silent laugh.
He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear. “I love you, River Ahlers.”