I’m thankful that Cade finally came around. Although I don’t forgive him for fucking Becca. A tinge of red tints my vision at the thought. Immediately, I push it away.
We aren’t best friends, and we never will be. But we have an understanding. Stella is one of the most important people in our lives, and we would do anything to make her happy.
Even if it means he tolerates me for smacking his sister’s ass and I tolerate him for sleeping with my girlfriend. It’s not perfect, but we do it for Stella.
I continue down the familiar street until my fingers tingle at the muscle memory of pulling into her driveway. And a wave of déjà vu rolls over me. My stomach twists into a knot at the thought of that night.
The night we got Brady put behind bars for what he had done. It was also the night I watched two EMTs roll my best friend out of Brooke’s room. I can’t forget that feeling, like someone reached inside me and flicked the lights off. And until I saw her, walking up to me at school, it was like I couldn’t take a full breath.
I don’t have any siblings, I don’t know what it’s like to have a sister, but I think that Stella was meant to be mine.
When I park next to Cade’s black Camaro, the front door flies open, and a burst of long auburn hair and pure sunshine races down the steps.
I throw my door open and slam it behind me, muffling whatever Dawson was saying.
Stella picks up speed, and before I know it, her arms are wrapped around my waist, and I’m spinning her in the air with a smile I can’t contain stretching across my face.
“I missed you, Stel-Bell.” I squeeze her a little tighter.
She fake coughs. “You’re going to squeeze me to death.” She laughs.
Setting her down, I pull her into my chest as I see Dawson take my advice perfectly. He somehow managed to get behind her while I was spinning her, about ten feet away. Ever so slightly, he is getting closer.
And my plan couldn’t have gone better. As Dawson takes another step, Stella’s front door silently opens, and Cade steps onto the porch.
Dawson reaches his hand out, perhaps a little low and about a foot from Stella’s back, when Cade’s voice stops Dawson in his tracks. “Get away from my girl before I take my next step and you won’t end up with broken bones in ten seconds.”
Stella immediately spins in my grasp, gasping at Dawson’s hand, inches away from her.
I interject before anything else escalates, “I never would have let him touch you; don’t worry. This is my teammate, Dawson. Thought his ego could use a check. And, Cade! Come on. I was hoping you would get at least one punch in on him. Have you gone soft or what?”
Dawson scoffs.
Cade’s anger quickly cools off, and he chuckles as he walks up to us. “Good to see you, Jones.”
Stella leaps out of my arms and right into Cade’s. She leans up on her tiptoes and gives him a kiss on the cheek.
She deserves this, all of this. Every ounce of happiness this world can give her and more.
Dawson awkwardly walks to my side. “Callum?”
I laugh. “What’s up?”
He turns, looking right at me. “Fuck you, dude.” But even he can appreciate my little prank—his small smile gives him away.
“Coming in or what?” Stella asks as she and Cade head to her front door, hand in hand.
Dawson and I follow, and when Stella starts telling me all about her support group and how they have been doing, I hang on to every single word.
Spending time with Stella made me feel like myself again. It was like hitting a reset button on all the tension in me. But I am so excited to get back to my room and get some sleep.
When I walk up to the elevator, there’s someone waiting. And she might be unrecognizable to everyone else in those baggy clothes, hat, and sunglasses, but nothing could ever stop the tingles that dance across my skin when I’m in her presence.
She isn’t as good as an actress as she thinks, or maybe I can just see right through it. Because I see the way her chest rises and falls faster when I’m near her. I see her cheeks flush, her lips part, and I watch her fighteverysecond of it. If the Devil would accept my soul, I would trade it for a day with her—hell, even an hour. Becca may to try to not feel or let people in anymore. She needs to know what she means to me. She needs affirmations and actions to break down her walls again. If it’s the last thing I do, I will make sure she knows exactly how I feel—even if she punches me afterward.
TWELVE
Becca
