Cross (The Gibson Boys 2.5)

“No one made a joke out of you.” She spins on her heel. “She made a tramp out of herself, but that’s the end of that.”

A flood of warmth trickles through my body as I watch my mother watch me. Just knowing she has my back and is in my corner helps—a lot.

“I left here because he wouldn’t grow up and I was sick of the gossip,” I remind her. “Then my ex in Indiana cheated on me, and now I’m back and it’s the same damn thing. Senseless drama. I hate it.”

“Then don’t buy into it, honey.”

“I don’t! I just want a love like in the movies. Is that too much to ask?”

“Movies are drama. Just pointing that out,” she says.

I roll my eyes. “I want the happy. The trust. The breakfast in bed and the flowers at work. I want that, Mom. Not all … this.”

She sticks a gallon of milk in the fridge, pausing. “Maybe what you’re seeing is how the world really works, Kal. I know you see pictures and movies of perfect little houses and marriages and friendships, but it’s not real. None of it. Real comes raw with other people’s influences and you can’t get out of that. It’s unavoidable. Life is a bitch.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“The key to happy relationships is trust. It’s the hardest thing to master, but if you can, it’s the secret key that opens a world you can never know otherwise.”

“But doesn’t trusting someone leave you exposed? They can stick a knife in you and twist it.” I wince, thinking that’s exactly how I felt this afternoon.

“Yeah, it does. It leaves you wide open, but you can’t get through that door without doing it. You just have to learn who you can trust and who you can’t.”

“So, basically, conquer Rome in a day? Got it.” Wiping the fog off my glass of ice water, I think back to Cross’s face. “He was mad at me, Mom. Can you believe that?”

“I’d be more worried if he wasn’t.”

“Why?”

A soft smile ghosts across her lips. “Maybe it insulted him that you would accuse him of something. Maybe he thought you knew him better than that.”

“It still doesn’t make this any easier.”

“The world isn’t black and white. It’s a wonderful mixture of the two that has a lot of blurry lines, and if you care what people do and say, you have a long life ahead of you, honey.” She sits across from me and folds her hands on the table. “Trust your gut, and remember what led you back to him in the first place.”

She gets up, kisses me on the head, and walks down the hallway. Her words, however, stay behind.

Kallie

The dog across the street barks, breaking the late-night silence. My car starts up, the lights shining into the living room as I back down the driveway.

My stomach is all twisted, an ulcer beginning to form somewhere in the pit of my bowels. No matter what I do—read, sing, or create—I can’t stop thinking about Cross.

Walking five miles just got me a sore hamstring, doing the dishes left me with a sliced finger, and I’ve sung the hell out of my favorite playlist on my phone. Through it all, I’ve thought about him.

It’s those first nights in Indiana all over again. It’s the emptiness in my soul, the craving to love and be loved…by him, only him. It’s only ever been him.

My ex-boyfriend didn’t help that. Maybe he distracted me for a bit, but the hole in my heart just started to fill recently.

The car glides down the street, heading into town, the streetlights getting more frequent as I go. The clock reads almost one in the morning, and my body shivers against the cool summer night.

A peace settles over me as I drive. I’m more confident in this decision than I’ve ever been. It’s right. I’ve never felt stronger about something, not even when I left him the first time. I’m not the same person as I was then. Neither is he. Why would I think we’d be the same as we were then now?

Screw the rumors.

Fuck the gossips.

To Hell with being unsure.

Life is a risk and, at the end of the day, his love is the surest bet I can make. It’s at least worth a shot.

A set of headlights comes my way and the driver clicks them down, turning off the brights. As we pass, I glance over my shoulder and see Cross’s face.

My heart leaps in my chest as his tail lights come on in the rear view, his tires squealing as he rips the truck around. Before I know what’s happening, he’s behind me, traveling in the same direction.

The high school is a block ahead and I turn my turn signal on in hopes he’ll slow down a bit and get off my ass. My throat is constricted as I pull in, my blood pounding in my veins as I stop the car. He’s out of his truck and around the front before I ever even get the door open. He does the honors for me.