Conception (The Wellingtons #4) - Tessa Teevan Page 0,101

by my side.

I’ll do whatever it takes to get her back, even if it means giving all of this up.

I clear my throat. “That means everything, Mom,” I croak, and it may not sound like it, but I mean it.

“You’re well aware he practically had to throw you out of his desk chair when he came back. That didn’t slow you down though. I was curious—what was stoking the fire lit underneath you? But I gave you space. You’re a grown man, and you don’t need to come to your momma for advice. But now that I’ve found you here packing, ready to skip out without barely a word to your dad, not knowing when you’re coming back, I have to ask.” Piercing, dark eyes hold my gaze. “What happened in Crystal Cove?”

Without breaking my stare, I say the last thing I’m sure she’s expecting.

“I fell in love, Mom. I fell in love, and I let her go. And now I’m going to fix it.”

I wish I could’ve caught Mom’s expression on camera. The unusual combination of shock mixed with glee would’ve had me laughing if I hadn’t been so intent on getting out of the house. She sat in stunned silence for a moment before leaping up from the bed, pushing my duffel bag into my chest, and telling me to hit the road and not come back until Amelia was mine. She’ll take care of Dad.

Have I mentioned how rad my mom is? ’Cause she’s seriously the tits.

Her words replay over and over in my mind the closer I get to Crystal Cove. It’s not until I’m pulling onto the one main street that doubt creeps in. What if she isn’t here? What if she went back to school and I’ve come all this way for nothing?

I shake the thought out of my head, because it’d only be a small setback. If she isn’t here, I’ll just get Sunny to tell me where to find her. She may seem like a tough cookie, but when it comes to Amelia and love, she won’t be a hard nut to crack. Especially if I can get Joe on my side. It’s not like we ended on bad terms. Just like the summer, our end was inevitable.

I’m a bit dejected when I park in the drive in front of her cottage and see that the house is dark. I leave the driver’s door hanging open, rush up the steps, and then pound on the door, wondering what the hell I’ll say when I see her again. What the hell I’ll do. Part of me wants to tell her I love her, that I’ve tried living without her and I just can’t do it. The other part wants to sweep her into my arms and take those sweet, cherry lips I’ve been dreaming about for ages.

I do neither of those things when a wrinkled face with eyes covered in large glasses stares out at me through the curtain.

Mrs. Mayfield opens the door, peering at me.

“You,” she croaks, and I nearly step back from the accusation in her voice.

I clear my throat. “Uh, hey, Mrs. Mayfield. Sorry to bother you if you were sleeping. I’m Knox, if you remember me.”

“Of course I remember you. You’re that boy who was sniffing around Amelia last summer then up and left her.”

Ouch. If words had fists, that’d have been one hell of a punch.

“Yeah, that’s not what happened.”

“From where I’m standing, it is.”

My momma would be disappointed, but I have zero patience for meddling old ladies tonight. “With all due respect, Mrs. Mayfield, what happened with Amelia and me is none of your business. Judge me all you want. I don’t give a fuck.”

She gasps, and I don’t care.

“I may have left—because Amelia wanted me to—but I’m back now and I won’t stop until I find her. Now, where is she?”

She purses her lips and lifts her chin, steel-gray eyes boring into me. Just when I think she’s about to slam the door in my face, she relents. “I was afraid she was the one who pushed you away.” She sighs. “She’s not here, but she isn’t far.”

I step closer, nodding, waiting for her to continue. But then she decides it’s time to slam the door in my face.

Pounding on the door, I yell her name. “Mrs. Mayfield! What the fuck does that mean?”

The porch light turns off, plunging me into darkness, signifying that she’s already divulged what little she plans on telling me. The rest?