He pulled his lips from mine and gazed down at me. “Kissing is allowed, though, right?”
I gave a shaky laugh before answering. “Definitely,” I said, reaching for the handle of the door behind me. Pulling it open, I stepped backward into the building.
“Can we meet for lunch tomorrow?” he asked before I could disappear into the building.
“I have class until twelve thirty, and my class after that starts at two.”
“That’s fine. We can meet between your classes,” he said, naming a central location for us to meet up.
I agreed before letting the door swing closed behind me. Despite being dead on my feet, and the fact that my knees were currently cussing me out, a goofy smile spread across my face as I shuffled to my room. Tracey would have said I was falling for his “smexy” charms if she was still alive, but she would have liked him. I wish she could have met him. It was at times like this that I missed her the most. My smile slipped for a moment as the familiar sense of loneliness and loss threatened to take hold. Bentley’s image came to mind, reminding me I was no longer completely alone.
Reaching my room, my smile returned. Maybe not as wide as before, but it was there. I was no longer alone.
“Where have you been, young lady?” Trina teased as I pushed our dorm room door open. “Oh, Lord. Judging by that sex kitten grin on your face, you were doing something. Do tell.” She tossed the book she was reading to the side. “And what, for God’s sake, are you wearing?”
My smile widened even farther as I sat down on my bed. I was not alone at all. I hugged my pillow to my chest as I filled Trina in on my evening. It had been so long since I had talked boys with anyone. It was well after two in the morning by the time I finished filling her in.
• • •
The next few weeks passed in a happy blur as my new friends showed me what I had been missing keeping myself closed off for the last year and a half. Bentley and I spent every day together that he wasn’t working or we weren’t in classes. We ate together, studied together, and spent a lot of time perfecting our kissing skills. Taking it slow had become an exercise of pure endurance for both of us. His roommates were our only saving grace. Michael had broken up with his girlfriend, so he was at the apartment as much as Chad. My feelings for Bentley had exceeded what I’d never thought was possible. Thoughts of him consumed me whenever we were apart.
Trina told me it was normal to feel like that. She claimed that’s what love did to a person. I halfheartedly argued that I wasn’t in love. She razzed me about it, but didn’t press me. That was one of the things I liked the most about her. I discovered she was a great friend to have. She still hung out with her old friends and went to parties, but we had made it past our rocky beginning.
I packed my bags into my small VW Bug, preparing to head home for Thanksgiving break. It had been more than a month since I’d seen Mom and Dad, and I missed them. I was excited to finally have something to talk about other than my classes or the case. Bentley planned on driving over on Thanksgiving to meet them and to have dessert. Mom had mentioned on the phone that we would be celebrating Thanksgiving by ourselves this year without anyone else over. We used to spend Thanksgiving with Tracey’s family until her dad died years ago. After the accident, Patricia and the boys spent Thanksgiving last year by themselves. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved when Mom told me Patricia had decided to take the twins to see their grandparents in Ohio this year. Things would be more bearable.
I pulled into our driveway less than an hour later. Sitting behind the wheel, I studied my childhood home, which was filled with so many memories. The front yard was shaded by the big oak tree that Jessica had fallen from when she and Dan had decided to see who could get to the highest branches first. Jessica broke her arm in two places, but afterward wore her cast like a badge of honor, claiming she had made it to the top first.
Pulling my duffel bag from the backseat, I headed toward the front door, vowing not to let sad memories bog me down this time. I breathed in deeply when I opened the door, inhaling the intoxicating smell of Thanksgiving. It was a mixture of pump
kin, spices, cookies, and Dad’s famous Chex Mix, which he had been making for as long as I could remember. This was the essence of the holiday season for me.
“I’m home,” I called out, dropping my bag on the white bench by the front door.
“Hey, sweetie.” Dad greeted me, coming around the long counter that separated the kitchen from the large great room, which was the “heart of the house,” as he liked to put it. He wiped his hands on his apron, which read: The only thing better than a bottle of wine in the kitchen is a bottle of wine in the hand.
“Hey, Daddy,” I said, giving him a big hug.
He returned the hug and then placed his hands on my shoulders, holding me at arm’s length. “Something’s different about you,” he observed.
“What?” I asked, ducking my head. Could he see the difference that I had begun to see in myself over the last couple weeks? When I looked in the mirror, I didn’t cringe at my reflection anymore. The severe straight line that my lips normally wore was gone, along with the somber look that never seemed to leave my eyes.
He tilted my chin as he took the time to study my face. “You look happy,” he said, sounding hopeful. “Are you happy, sweet pea?”
“I am, Daddy.”
“Well, I’ll be damned. I guess talking us into letting you live on campus was a good thing, after all. I’m not going to lie, sweet pea. Your mother and I have been worried about you. It seemed like you were struggling to find your footing at first.”
“It was tougher than I thought it was going to be at first,” I admitted, sitting on the leather couch. “But I’m making it now.”
“Finding your groove,” Dad said, sitting on the couch next to me and patting my knee.
“Groove? Dad, no one says that. You’re showing your age.”
“What are you talking about? Groove is classic. Come help your old man in the kitchen,” he said, standing up. “I have another batch of Chex Mix in the oven.”
seventeen
Bentley