Come to Me Quietly (Closer to You #1)(43)
Author: A.L. Jackson

“Aren’t you always?” I hopped up onto the counter and swung my legs the way I did when I was a little girl.

Amused lines deepened at the corners of Mom’s eyes. “No, not always. Most of the time,” she added with a wink, “but not always.” She leaned up on the counter next to me. “So, tell me about this boy who makes those green eyes dance.”

I squeezed both shoulders in a confused shrug and blew the air from my pursed lips. How could Jared be contained by simple words? I looked at her, and again I could feel the admission trembling on my lips. “He scares me, Mom.”

She stilled, her hand clamping down on her glass before she shakily set it down and turned to face me. “What do you mean, he scares you? Aly – ”

“No, not like that, Mom.” I cut her off, struggling for words. “It’s just… it hurts to care about him so much.” It always had and it felt good to finally admit it aloud.

She searched my face. “Oh my God, Aly… you love him?”

I didn’t answer.

“How long have you been seeing him? I don’t… Who is he?” Mom seemed to flounder through her thoughts, like maybe it stung that I was just telling her this now.

Guilt swept through me. After all these years, I was still keeping him a secret. “I don’t even know what we are, Mom. I just care about him, so much, and when we’re together I… ” I frowned, blinked, then let the truth flow free. “It feels like the best thing that ever happened to me.”

She moved in front of me and softly ran a lock of my hair through two of her fingers, this wistful expression on her face. “Love is the best thing that will ever happen to you, Aly.”

Slowly I nodded as I let her words take hold. My voice was rough. “Thank you, Mom. You don’t know how much I needed to hear that.”

“You know that’s what I’m here for,” she whispered. Then she shook herself off and stepped back, her voice returning to normal. “So, when do I get to meet this mystery man? Oh, why don’t you bring him over for dinner?” she asked, clearly excited by the proposition.

“I don’t think we’re quite there yet. But someday.” I could only hope.

Doubt chipped a little fissure in my belief. Jared had made me no promises. And it was true, I didn’t even know what we were. I only had the promise of his touch, only knew he looked at me the same way I looked at him. That was what buoyed me, what filled me with faith.

Mom frowned and regarded me seriously. “I know you’re grown, Aly, but I would really like to meet him.”

Just then a key rattled the lock in the front door. Mom reached for her tea glass as we heard the heavy footfalls of someone entering the house.

Was it terrible I was thanking God for the interruption? But I didn’t know how much more information I could give Mom now before it all became obvious.

Augustyn walked into the kitchen, tearing a sweaty T-shirt over his head. He wore basketball shorts and tennis shoes, his deeply tanned skin gleaming with moisture. I sometimes wondered how Mom and Dad had raised such a jock when Christopher and I were anything but.

He smiled wide. “Aly! I was excited to see your car out front. How are you?”

“I’m doing really good. I’ve been missing you, though,” I said with all honesty.

He didn’t hesitate to envelope me in a hot, sweaty hug. “I know. Me, too.” Aug’s voice had permanently roughened, thickened like a man’s. It made me smile.

“So, guess what I found out today,” he said as he drew back, grinning with pride. “You are looking at our first-string quarterback. They announced the selections today.”

“Really?” I jumped off the counter and hugged him again. “Congratulations.”

Mom nearly tackled him. “You did? Aug, I’m so proud of you.”

I was all mixed up in their embrace and it felt really great.

When Augustyn had his fill of pats and hugs and congrats, he pulled back. Mom pointed at him. “And you stink. You need to take a shower.”

Laughing, he backed away. “Think I’m just going to take a swim. Dad’s out there anyway, and he told me he was supposed to be the first to know.” Aug lifted his chin in my direction. “It really was good to see you, Aly.” He slid the sliding glass door open and smirked at me from over his shoulder. “And tell Megan I said hi.”

My mouth dropped open in feigned disgust, my lips animated in silent embellishment. Gross.

He laughed and the door slid shut behind him.

I turned back to Mom. “I think I’m going to head home.”

Disappointment flashed across her face and she huffed out a frustrated breath. “Fine, but honestly, Aly. Don’t shut me out, okay?”

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure I could keep that promise. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to. God, Christopher had asked me not to even mention that Jared was staying with us, and Jared definitely didn’t want Christopher knowing about us. I wasn’t sure that I did, either. I was pretty sure Christopher would freak out. No doubt my dad would freak out. And their knowing would undoubtedly throw Jared over the edge.

“Love you, Mom.” I hugged her close to me, her touch tender as she rubbed my lower back.

“Love you, too.” She pulled back and held my face. “I’m happy for you… whoever he is.”

I bit at my lip as his name danced on my tongue. I realized how much I wanted her to know. I swallowed. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay,” she said.

I headed for the door.

“And be safe,” she hollered after me.

Shaking my head I smiled and pulled the door shut behind me.

Outside, it was humid, the sky overhead cast in a shimmering blue. Instantly sweat clung to my skin, and I squinted up into the blinding Arizona sun. Heavy cumulous clouds gathered far to the south, built and piled as they stretched toward the heavens and slowly encroached upon the city.

The monsoon was here.

Starting my car, I made my way across town. I slipped through the gate. Anxious excitement caused a stir of butterflies to take flight in my stomach when I rounded the corner.

Jared rode just ahead of me, and he used his feet to back his sleek bike into the spot he always parked it in. He came to a standstill facing out. His booted feet were stretched out wide, balancing the metal between his legs. He wore his typical dark low-slung jeans and a black tee that exposed the story woven over the strength of his arms. The bold numbers strewn across his knuckles sat prominent where he gripped and flexed at the handlebars. That gorgeous face remained stoic, almost hard, but his hair was wild, untamed from where it had been battered by the wind.