Still The One - Carrie Elks Page 0,96

eyes. It felt uncomfortable being soothed by her. As though she was playing a role she was completely unprepared for. Savannah Butler didn’t let people take care of her. She was the protector. It was all that she knew.

And it had messed up her life.

That thought bounced around her mind like a pinball, making her shiver. For ten years she’d paid the price of telling Tanner a lie. One tiny lie.

That had torn both of their worlds apart.

How different would it have been if she’d been honest? If she’d allowed herself to be vulnerable. To tell him that her mom was pregnant, that she was scared, but she still wanted him to go to Duke.

If she’d let herself tell the truth instead of believing she was protecting everyone around her.

“You okay?”

She’d almost forgotten her mom was still there. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Can I ask you a favor?” Kim asked.

Van blinked. “What is it?”

“Will you take care of Zoe for me when I’m in rehab?”

“Of course I will.”

“Thank you.” Kim’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles.

It was past midnight according to the clock beside her bed. After Becca had brought Zoe home, giving Van a big hug before driving away, the three of them – Van, Zoe, and their mom – had spent the afternoon talking. Making plans for Kim’s rehab, for Zoe’s care, and for Van’s next steps. It had been uncomfortable, being honest with them, showing her vulnerability, yet it had felt cathartic, too.

For the first time in her life she was letting the emotion flow out of her. She wasn’t sure that she would ever get used to it.

Zoe had asked her what she was going to do about Tanner.

“Talk to him.” Van had said, even though the thought of it made her stomach twist. Because he had every right to tell her he didn’t want to listen. That he wasn’t going to put himself out there for her again.

He could reject her, and she knew it would hurt like hell. But it couldn’t be any worse than the pain she was feeling right now. And if that happened, then she would deal with it. Because she’d know that she’d done all she could.

It wasn’t the kind of conversation you had on the phone, though. Tomorrow she’d go to his house, knock on the door, and hope like hell he’d open up. And tonight? Well, she’d probably toss and turn in her bed the same way she had last night. She should be getting used to that by now.

She didn’t register the slam of a car door at first. Not until she heard shuffling on what sounded like the sidewalk outside of the bungalow. It was probably their neighbor coming home from a late shift.

Van turned on her side, curling her legs up to her chest, and tried not to think about how empty her bed was without him.

And then she heard five familiar notes cutting through the night time silence. A drum beat cut in, sultry and low. Had their neighbor left his stereo going in his car?

She knew the song by heart. Take My Breath Away by Berlin. The first song she and Tanner had made love to, during that long, hot summer of the Tom Cruise retrospective at the drive-in.

She’d loved that movie, as schmaltzy as it was. Loved the way Tom looked in his flight jacket, the way he stared at Kelly McGillis like she was his world.

And that sex scene. It had done things to her teenaged body that she didn’t know how to deal with. All she knew was that she’d played that song daily over that summer. Tanner had complained about it incessantly.

Yet he’d stored it on his iPod touch, and played it the night they’d let things go too far. Although it had been uncomfortable and awkward and the ground had turned her pretty pink dress black, that night was still the most precious memory she had.

Tanner’s kisses, his touch, the sound of Berlin echoing from his phone. The way her body undulated beneath his, as he asked her again and again if she was okay.

And she had been okay. More than okay. Until she discovered her mom’s pregnancy and everything she’d planned for was torn apart.

The music was getting louder. Berlin was getting to the chorus. She turned onto her other side, waiting for the car door to shut.

But it didn’t. Frowning, she climbed out of her bed, padding in bare feet to the window and pulling the curtain