I laid my head back against the wall and tilted it so I could look at Amanda. She was worried and clearly upset. I was enlightening her about a world she didn’t know existed, and that world wasn’t even the worst part about me.
“You are the first woman to ever spend any time with Daisy. My mother is either drunk, asleep, or gone. Daisy is raised by Jimmy when they’re home. I make sure the bills stay paid and the kids have food. Then, like you saw today, if someone gets sick, I handle it.”
“Oh God, that makes my chest hurt,” Amanda whispered, rubbing the ball of her hand over her heart. “I want to go cuddle up to Daisy and hold her. No wonder Jimmy acts twenty instead of eleven.”
I reached over and pulled her hand away from her chest. “They’ll be okay. I am, and I didn’t have any older siblings to help me out. I made it without anyone. Don’t get upset over it. They aren’t the only kids growing up in this exact same situation.”
Amanda’s eyes held unshed tears as she tried real hard to keep her bottom lip from quivering. Ah, hell. I’d made her cry. I hadn’t told her all that to make her cry. I’d just answered her questions. I’d let her into my screwed-up life a little. More than I’d ever let anyone in.
“You’re the only person I’ve ever told about the kids and my mom. I’ve never even told your brother.”
Amanda pressed her lips together tightly and nodded. She didn’t respond. She was still trying very hard not to cry. Her soft heart couldn’t handle this. If she even knew a little bit of what my mom had done to those kids and me, she’d never be able to deal with it.
“Come here,” I said gently as I reached for her arms and pulled her against my chest.
Amanda
Going willingly into Preston’s arms probably wasn’t real smart, but at that moment, I just didn’t care. I needed to hold him. I couldn’t go hold Jimmy and Brent, but I could hold him. And tomorrow I would give Daisy every second of my attention when I wasn’t in classes. I might even skip them just so I could stay here. She’d be going back to her mom soon. The idea of her being neglected was painful.
“I’m sorry I told you all this,” Preston whispered against my hair as he held me tightly to him. I wasn’t sorry. He’d let me in. It was something I’d wanted. However, when I’d wanted in, I’d had no idea I was going to find this out. Images of Preston over the years kept flashing through my mind. When I’d met him, he’d been a skinny kid with hair so long he kept it in a ponytail. Even in his faded jeans and worn-out T-shirt I couldn’t help but think he was beautiful. But I’d wondered why his mother let him look like that.
“Thank you for telling me. For letting me help today. I know I’m reacting to this like the spoiled brat that I am, but I’m trying to process it. I want to go take them all away from your mom and keep them close. Take care of them. Make sure they have proper haircuts and clean clothes.”
Preston’s chest rumbled with laughter, and I looked up at him.
“Proper haircuts and clean clothes?” he asked, grinning down at me.
“I keep remembering the first time I saw you. Your hair was ridiculously long, and your clothes were so worn out. It didn’t take away from the fact that you were the most gorgeous boy I’d ever seen, but still. . . .” Oh, crap. Had I really just said that?
Preston titled his head to the side and studied me a moment. “You thought I was gorgeous?”
Sighing, I started to pull back from his arms, but he held me firmly in place. “Answer me,” he whispered, lowering his head so that his mouth was very close to my ear.
“Yes. You know you’re gorgeous.”
Preston slid a hand down my back until he had a firm grip on my waist, and then he pulled me up higher against his chest. “Maybe I don’t know that,” he replied, reaching with his other hand to cup my face and brush his thumb over my cheekbone. “Maybe I’m trying to figure out why you want anything to do with me.”
Was he serious?
“I’ve had a crush on you since I was sixteen. Surely you know this. I wasn’t very secretive about it. I’ve never missed one of your baseball games, not even the away ones. I found any reason I could think of to throw myself in your path. Then when I did get your attention, you were drunk, but I didn’t care. I was willing to take what I could get. Maybe I didn’t know you were as drunk as you were, but I was just glad you weren’t treating me like a little girl anymore. I was tired of having to fantasize about you. I wanted the real thing.”
Preston went very still. Dang it. I’d opened my mouth and said too much. He was going to shove me toward the bathroom now and go hide in his bedroom.
“You fantasized about me?”
Really? Was that all he got out of what I’d just said?
“Yes,” I replied, rolling my eyes and trying to move away, only to be held in place with a tight squeeze of my waist from his hand.
Preston lowered his mouth until it was against my cheek. “Why don’t you tell me about these fantasies? You know, so I understand better.” His warm breath tickled my skin, and I shivered.
“That’s a bad idea,” I replied.
Preston’s hand slipped under the hem of my shirt until his fingers were brushing up against my bare stomach. “I disagree. I’m thinking it’s a real good idea,” he said before trailing kisses against the tender skin behind my ear down to my neck.
Forming thoughts while Preston’s hand was slowly moving up my stomach and his mouth was nuzzling and taking small nips at my neck wasn’t exactly easy. I couldn’t remember what it was we were talking about.
“See, Manda, it’s a really good idea. So damn good,” he said just before his hand cupped one of my br**sts.