Page 30 of Don’t Leave (Stay #2)

CASSIDY

“ Y ou’re really all right with going home for the break? Everything’s good with the fam?”

I fold another sweater and place it neatly in my suitcase before glancing at Brooklyn. “Yeah, I think so.”

Over the past few weeks, I’ve gotten together my parents several times. Our relationship is slowly morphing into one that is comfortable again.

“If you need a breather, just pop on over to my house.” She dumps a handful of clothing into her bag. “It’s not like anything interesting will be happening at the Bennet household.”

“I think everything will be fine. Honestly,” I carefully fold a pair of jeans before laying them on top of the sweaters, “I’m looking forward to getting away from campus for a couple of days.”

Brooklyn huffs before throwing another armload of clothing into her bag. “I know what you mean. It’ll be kind of nice to get the hell out of Dodge.”

I can’t resist asking, “Aren’t you going to miss your little friends-with-benefits buddy?”

I scrutinize her expression, trying to figure out what’s going on between them.

Brooklyn has been tight-lipped about the entire situation, which isn’t her usual style.

Under normal circumstances, she enjoys giving me a cringeworthy amount of details regarding whatever guy she’s into.

I find her newfound reserve disconcerting.

I don’t even know if they’re still sleeping with each other or not.

“First thing, never refer to my benefits buddy as little . He guy puts a capital D in dick.” She continues as I wince. “And second, I’m pleading the fifth.”

My eyes narrow. “Since when?” Since when doesn’t Brooklyn want to over-share? TMI is her MO for goodness’ sake.

Shrugging, she remains silent before tossing a few more items into her bag and zipping it up.

She changes the subject by asking, “What time is Luke picking us up?”

I glance at the clock next to my bed. “In an hour.”

It was a surprise to learn that Luke lives about twenty miles away from us in a different city. He asked if we needed a ride home for break and even though I wasn’t altogether sure I should take him up on the offer, I agreed.

It’s not like Cole and I are together anymore.

There have been so many times when I’ve picked up the phone, wanting to shoot Cole a text. Thank god I’m not a drinker or I probably would have drunk dialed him half a dozen times.

The conversation with Sammy really struck a chord with me. Even though it’s been four days since we sat down and talked after practice, it’s still rolling around in my head.

The good news is that Sammy and I have smoothed everything over and our friendship has fallen back into the easy comradery it once was. I no longer have to worry about her knocking the shit out of me on the ice.

The hour slips by in a flurry of packing and before I know it, Luke is texting that he’s waiting outside.

Brooklyn and I take one last look around our room before hustling down to meet him with our bags in tow.

As soon as he sees us push through the glass doors of our dorm, he exits his truck and opens the trunk before setting our bags inside.

“Hey.” He greets us with a smile before opening the backdoor for Brooklyn and then the front passenger one for me.

As he’s walking around the hood of the truck, Brooklyn leans forward and whispers in my ear, “I think someone is happy to finally have you all to himself.”

Without even looking at her, I mutter, “We’re friends. Nothing more.”

“Plus,” she teases, “you didn’t even call shotgun and you’re the one riding up front.”

There’s no time to respond to that comment as Luke opens the driver’s side door and slides in next to me.

A moment later, the engine roars to life and we’re rolling away from Western’s campus.

The three of us chat for a while before falling into a comfortable silence as music fills the inside of the space.

A few times during the drive, I find myself turning and studying Luke. With his short blond hair and his blue-gray hazel eyes, he’s handsome. He stands over six feet tall and is broad in the shoulders.

Without a doubt, the guy is crushworthy. And I’d be lying through my teeth if I didn’t admit that I find him attractive. That attraction, coupled with the connection we’ve already forged, seems to intensify everything I feel for him.

But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to take that next step with him.

Since I haven’t heard from Cole since our disastrous lunch, I’m guessing that whatever we had is over with.

At this point, I don’t know if I want to get tangled up in another relationship.

I remember my hesitancy about getting involved with Cole in the beginning.

It’s probably smarter to focus on my classes and take a break from boys.

Lost in the tangle of my thoughts, I don’t realize that I’ve spaced out and am staring at Luke until he turns his head and meets my gaze. Heat creeps into my cheeks as I yank my attention away from him and stare out the window.

“What are you thinking about?”

I force myself to glance at him and say honestly, “That it’s probably best for me to focus on classes and not get caught up in all the social stuff.”

He nods as if agreeing before his gaze resettles on the road stretched out in front of him. Mine do the same. “You mean a relationship?”

“Yeah.”

He nods as his hand slips around mine. Startled by the connection, my heartbeat hitches as I stare down at our entwined fingers. His thumb rubs soft circles across my flesh.

Unease fills me as I glance over my shoulder at Brooklyn, only to find her sacked out with earbuds in.

“She fell asleep about fifteen minutes ago,” he says as if he can read my mind.

“Oh.” My mouth turns cottony as I search my brain for something to say.

Whatever is unfolding between us in the front seat of his truck feels dangerous. I’m not sure if I’m ready for our relationship to progress past friendship. When it comes down to it, I’m still hung up on Cole.

His gaze flickers in my direction. “Are you okay with this?” He squeezes my fingers. “I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for.”

The last guy to hold my hand was Cole. I’m not sure if I’m ready to feel someone else touching me so intimately. At the same time, I can’t deny that it feels kind of nice.

“Cassidy?” he prompts softly. His gaze darts to mine as we continue driving down the highway toward home.

I suck in a deep breath and realize that I don’t want him to let go. Just as he begins to remove his fingers, the word shoots out of my mouth. “No.”

His movements still. Questions swirl through his eyes. “No?”

“Don’t let go,” I whisper thickly.

Whether he realizes it or not, this is a big deal for me. I don’t allow many people in. Cole was my first real relationship. Even though Luke is only holding my hand, it’s a big step for me.

He must realize it as well. For the remainder of the ride, he does nothing more than clasp my hand in his larger one as if allowing me time to get used to the feel of him.

The miles slip by quickly after that shared moment between us. Brooklyn sleeps the entire way, making it feel as if Luke and I are alone. Almost from the beginning, my friendship with Luke has been an easy one. Even though we’re holding hands, it doesn’t necessarily feel like anything has changed.

By the time we roll up to Brooklyn’s house, which is next to mine, she’s woken with a stretch and Luke is no longer holding my hand.

When he exits the truck to grab her bag, she leans forward and whispers, “Now that was a rather interesting turn of events.”

With a wink, she jumps out of the truck and thanks Luke for the ride. Just as I’m about to open my door and get out, Luke slides in beside me.

“I’ll drive you over. It’s not a problem.”

Less than thirty seconds later, he’s pulling into my driveway. My gaze locks on the house I grew up in and my mind tumbles back to when Cole and I snuck in two months ago to retrieve my hockey equipment.

The memory of how angry my father had been when he’d caught us slices through me. My muscles tense as I continue to stare. It’s the feel of Luke’s hand squeezing mine that knocks me from the strange paralysis.

“Cassidy? Are you all right?”

“Sorry,” I say with a weak smile.

For some reason, sitting here in the driveway of my childhood home, the one I hadn’t been allowed to return to after my failure, has all those bad memories crashing around inside my head. And I realize that I’m almost afraid to walk through the front door.

Afraid that this trip home won’t turn out to be a positive one.

Maybe that saying you can never go home again is true.

The last thing I want is for the next couple of days to be awkward and uncomfortable.

Have I rushed things by agreeing to come home for Thanksgiving, foolishly thinking that everything would magically fall neatly back into place between all of us?

It’s a jarring thought.

My chest tightens, making it difficult to breathe. I close my eyes and inhale a deep breath before slowly forcing it out again, all the while desperately trying to rein in my out-of-control feelings.

If I allow my mind to keep tripping down this path, I’ll have a full-on attack.

Relax .

Just relax .

It’s the deep timbre of Luke’s voice that finally punctures the anxiety spiraling through me.

“Hey,” he squeezes my hand again, “are you all right?” His fingers rise to stroke softly over my cheek. “Cassidy, look at me.”

He must see the fear and panic rising within my wide eyes because he slowly tugs me into his arms. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and rest my head against the solid strength of his chest.

And then I just breathe.

I suck in big gulps of air before slowly pushing them out again.

“Keep breathing,” he whispers near the shell of my ear.

I focus on the low cadence of his voice.

It takes about three or four minutes before I find my muscles loosening