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You Make Me

You Make Me (Blurred Lines #1)(31)
Author: Erin McCarthy

Then the natural second name- Cat Deprey. Caitlyn Michaud Deprey.

I had planned our wedding in that notebook. I flipped through the pages and read my looping large handwriting outlining details on a backyard clam bake. I wanted to wear a sundress and be barefoot. Funny how I hadn’t remembered any of that the few times Ethan and I had talked about our wedding. I’d had a more traditional ceremony and reception in mind, with a ball gown image in my head.

Neither one felt real or possible now.

When I fell asleep I dreamed that I stood on one side of the bay and Heath stood on the other. I shouldn’t have been able to see him in the rain, but I could. I knew it was him even from so far away. But I couldn’t reach him.

He turned and walked away, leaving me alone, and I screamed his name. I begged him to stay. Then Ethan appeared next to me on the cliff and when I asked him for help, he pushed me off the side. I fell in slow motion, arms out, crashing towards the rocks and the ocean, wind in my hair…

I sat up straight in bed, sweaty. I’d left the lamp on and I reached for it and flicked it off. Then I fell back on the bed in the darkness, the only sounds my breathing and the pounding of my heart.

I told myself I wouldn’t watch for him, but I knew when the ferry came. And I knew how long it would take him to walk up from the dock. So when I got a text that said he was coming up the drive, I’d already seen him out the window. He walked the same way he had the first day, with confidence, not bothering to look left or right. His eyes were trained on the house. On me.

Given that I had already encouraged him to come ninety minutes away and across the bay to see me, there was no point in pretending that I wasn’t glad to see him. I yanked the door open and jogged down the steps to meet him. “Hey,” I said, stopping in front of him and pulling a stray hair out of my mouth. “I can’t believe you came up here.”

Of course I was still upset about Ethan, but it was a totally separate thing from the cautious giddiness I felt when I saw Heath. Without thinking about the consequences, I threw my arms around him and gave him a hug. He gripped me back, hard, and kissed the side of my head.

After the last time I’d seen him, it felt amazingly comforting.

“Of course I came. I’m sorry about your father, by the way, if I didn’t say it before. You know I liked and admired him a lot. He was one of the only people who was ever nice to me.”

“He cared about you,” I said truthfully, pulling back to study Heath. “How did you know he died?”

He just shrugged. “I made sure I knew what was going on back here. I really wanted to come to the funeral but I was in Afghanistan then.” Heath took my hand in his and led me up the stairs, glancing around the porch. “It looks exactly the same. Nothing’s changed.”

“Everything’s changed,” I whispered in disagreement, though I didn’t mean the peeling paint or the plastic chair in the corner. “So you haven’t been back at all?”

“I’ve been to Rockland but this is my first time on the island since the day I left four years ago.” He let go of my hand and paced back and forth, gripping the banister and surveying the yard, the wild overgrown grass and the gravel drive. “So why doesn’t Brian live here?”

That made me snort. “Please. There isn’t enough entertainment here for Brian. Or women to take advantage of. Everyone on the island knows exactly what a tool he is.”

“That he is.” Heath glanced back at the house. “Is everything still on? Power? Water?”

“Yes, surprisingly. But it’s freezing in there. You know the windows and insulation suck. I’m spoiled now. The thought of a January here in this drafty house makes me shiver.”

“Are you thinking of spending January here?”

“No, of course not.”

“Where do you go for winter break?” he asked, walking to the end of the porch to inspect the wood pile that was still there.

The stack of logs was probably housing an entire colony of mice at this point. I didn’t want to answer his question. Freshman year I’d spent the week of Christmas at home with my father and the rest of the break alone in the dorm. Sophomore year I’d gone to the Walsh’s for a week with Ethan. The rest of the break hadn’t been lonely at all because I’d had him, and Aubrey, and other girls in the house. This year? I had nowhere to go and no one to spend Christmas with at all.

The thought made me feel infinitely sorry for myself. “I guess I will stay at the sorority house this year.” I’d run outside in just my sweatshirt and I rubbed my arms.

“Let’s get you a coat,” he said. “Then go for a walk.”

I knew where he would want to go. He’d always been drawn to the rocks, where the ocean crashed into the shore and created a foamy spray. “Okay. Give me a second.”

He followed me in, of course, and he wandered around the kitchen, touching the napkin holder on the table, turning the faucet on the sink like he didn’t believe the water was actually running. I had thrown my coat over the back of the chair and it was easy enough to pull it on, retrieving my gloves from the pockets. It wasn’t a big house, with wonky rooms upstairs, some feeding off of each other. In my room there was a closet that had always been locked and no one seemed to have the key anymore. Given the tight quarters and small, farmhouse rooms, I’d spent most of my time in the kitchen or outside, no matter what the weather was like.

It was the only way he and I had ever been able to be alone.

So it seemed natural for us to go for a walk even though there was no one in the house but us. Heath walked backwards down the drive, watching me. “You want to talk about it?” he asked.

“No.” I knew he meant Ethan.

“Good,” he said, fighting a smile. “Because I’m pretty sure any advice I have to offer would be terrible.”

I laughed. “Wow, thanks.”

“I have good intentions. But in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly Mr. Sensitive. Guys would talk about their girl problems in their bunks and I was notorious for offering the worst advice ever.” He was wearing dark jeans that showed how muscular his thighs had become in the military and he had an old hunting jacket on. I actually recognized that coat. He’d had it in high school. It was faded and I knew from experience it was soft and warm. I’d leaned against it, I’d wrapped myself in it.

“You’re just afraid to show your sensitive side. But I’ve seen it when you thought I wasn’t looking. You can’t fool me.”

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