“Plans?” he asks, his smile growing slightly. “Is this payback for the other day? Am I walking into a trap?”
“No, not unless you think my family is a trap.”
“Your family?” he asks.
“Do you know what today is?” He frowns, brows arching high with curiosity. “It's the Fourth of July weekend. What does my family do every year?”
“Still? They still have a big party at the lake?”
“Yup, and you're coming with me.”
Wyatt strokes his jaw, his expression somber and serious. “You know I never got to tell you I'm sorry about your dad. I am sorry, Story, really sorry to hear he passed.”
“Yeah, well, thanks, I guess.” Shrugging my shoulder, I try to act unaffected.
I don't want him to apologize for something he had no control over. Yes, it bothers me he wasn't here for that. But it also bothers me my letters went unanswered, and I was left in the dark when I needed him the most.
That's what he should be apologizing for, he should apologize for leaving me with no explanation, for abandoning me without cause, not for my father dying.
Climbing on the back of his bike, I slip the helmet on. “You remember where it is?”
“I do actually. How could I forget? That's where I popped your cherry.” He chuckles and bites the tip of his tongue.
My cheeks heat, and I feel the redness as it moves down my face and over my neck. And in the same special memory, I feel my heart as it twinges with pain.
You can never truly forget your first time. But you can numb the memory, you can turn down the volume and let it sit silently inside. But Wyatt opened the vault.
More and more memories flood my brain, and I'm hit with an overwhelming sensation. My pussy gets wet, my heart beats faster, and in the same breath it cracks in two.
My muscles tingle with love and all the firsts we shared together. And then it feels like glass is slicing my body apart. The pain he left me with, the hurt he caused, it's unbearable.
You never forget your first love, just like you never forget your first heart break.
And this man is the reason for both of mine.
He is my first everything. He took my virginity. He took my heart. And he broke my heart into a million unmendable pieces. Pieces that have sat on my chest and made life almost unlivable.
That's why I found a friend in the numbness. It felt good to pretend this stuff wasn't here.
Now I can't get it out of my face.
He pulls down the dirt road, and the tires on the motorcycle bounce and jump over the uneven gravel. I wrap my arms tightly around his waist, and feel him tighten his abs. I'm not sure if it's to show off how hard they are, or if it's because I took him by surprise.
It doesn't matter. I love being right here, my arms wrapped around his waist, and a smile on my face.
I can see the small summer cottage, and the cars parked all around it. They're in the driveway, on the grass, across the small road and on the grass hill.
He parks the bike, and pulls his helmet off. Looking back at me over his shoulder, he asks, “So you think you're mom will be happy to see me?”
“If anyone is happy, it'll be her. I can't guarantee my brothers will feel the same.”
He laughs, throwing his leg over the side and climbing off the bike. He holds out his hand, and helps me down. “I can't blame them, you're their little sister, nothing I could ever do will be right in their eyes.”
“You'd be surprised, Wyatt. I think there was a time they felt differently.”
I start to walk around to the front of the cabin, and Wyatt is at my side. I can tell he's nervous, and that little glimpse of vulnerability makes my heart flutter. He's still in there, the man that stole my heart all those years ago.
“Hey, Mom,” I say, sneaking up behind her, and grabbing her shoulders.
