More Than Each Other (More Than Best Friends Book 2) Page 5

  “Yeah, well, he said he thought I would grow out of it.”

  Haylee gives me her sympathetic puppy dog eyes. “What are you going to do? Are you going to give up?”

  “I don't know. I'm so confused. Why should I give up on a dream without trying it, you know? What if it's what I'm supposed to do. It would be so wrong of me to turn my back on such a huge part of me. If marine science is what I've been created to do, I should do it, right?”

  Cam’s still stuffing his face but manages to ask another question. “So how long are you grounded?”

  “I don't know. I walked out on Dad. Put on my shoes and coat and took off. I ended up by Ms. Pearson's farm.”

  “Holy cow, Regan. That's like five miles from your house,” Cam coughs out, choking on his food.

  I shrug. “When I came home Dad was already asleep and the only thing Mom said to me was good night. They were both gone this morning.”

  Tobi's brow wrinkles. “You're in deep.” I don't answer because I know she's right.

  12

  Lane

  Regan sees me pull into the high school parking lot and runs my way. As soon as I slam the truck in park, I bolt out my door to meet her.

  “Lane?” Regan’s voice is full of relief. She races into my arms, and it feels as if I haven’t seen her for months. Her chest shudders. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  She kisses my shoulder, neck, face, wherever her lips land. Has it really only been two days since we’ve seen each other? I try to pull back, but she has a death grip on me. “I’m not supposed to even see you,” she says with her face buried in my neck.

  “Your mom’s letting me take you home.”

  “What? Are you serious?” she asks.

  I crack a smile and nod.

  She loosens her grip and looks up at me. The yellow flecks in her blue eyes sparkle. “It was bad last night. Like, fight with Lincoln bad.”

  My fingers comb through the back of her hair. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” I kiss her forehead. I’m not sure how it’s going to be okay, but I just need to have faith it will. “We should get going. We don’t want to make things worse.” I take a step backward, but she doesn’t want to let me go. So, I let her cling to me as we walk to my truck.

  Regan slides into my open door and across the bench seat. I climb behind the wheel and crank the engine and take off. We don’t say anything more until the school grounds are way behind us. It’s almost as if they have ears and a direct connection to Stacey.

  “What are we going to do? Stacey made a threat about my dad finding out and she delivered. He thinks I snuck off to your room to—” She sighs and looks at me. Her eyes move back and forth between mine.

  I wiggle my eyebrows. “Kiss me?”

  One corner of her mouth pulls up as she shakes her head.

  Judging from the message she left me this morning and how she acted when I showed up at the school, I’d say Regan’s been worried all day. I’m glad to see the curve in her lips. Even if it’s only half of a smile.

  “No.” She looks away. The color of her cheeks turn a light shade of red. The way she chews on her lip, embarrassed, is adorable.

  I chuckle, but we don’t joke about things like that, at least not since we’ve been more than friends. “I’m sure he doesn’t really think that.” I put my arm around her, and she leans into me.

  “I don’t know. I think he was serious. That’s not all we fought about. I brought up everything I could think of—Lincoln, this town, marine science, you … I probably pushed him over the edge, but he pushed me, too.” She lets out a groan. “This has been building up since summer and I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

  Regan blows a long puff of air across her lips. “I can’t believe Mom let you pick me up. What’s Dad going to do when he finds out? He said I can’t even see you at church.”

  “He’s probably cooled off by now. Maybe he’ll be fine with us dating after he’s had a good night’s sleep.” I hold my arm up for her. “Come here.”

  She moves next to me, laying her head on my shoulder.

  I rub her arm. “We’ll figure something out. Besides, he can’t keep us apart at church.”

  Regan peeks at me. “I hope.”

  “Hey, you’ve got to think positive, right?”

  “I guess.” She turns up the volume dial on the radio. “Sing for me?”

  I want to tell her about last night, singing and playing with Ross’s band. It was so amazing. But what we’re facing in a few minutes is not amazing. The band thing should wait. I sing song after song for her.

  We turn at the road that takes us past my house. I want a few more minutes alone, just in case her dad is serious about us not seeing each other. She doesn’t stir or question what I’m doing. I wanted to call my dad while I was waiting for Regan in the parking lot, but she was already outside. I’ll have to face Tim on my own.

  I can’t keep driving around forever, though. We cross the bridge, nearing Regan’s house just around the bend.

  “Lane?” She straightens, turning in the seat toward me. “You’re my best friend. Best … everything.” She sniffs and swallows. “I’m not sure how I can handle two more years here. Especially if I don’t have you.” Big fat tears drop one by one from her eyes and stream down her cheeks.

  I stop the truck in the middle of the road and reach for her sad face. “I know it seems like everything is against us right now, but it’s going to work out.”

  She sighs, lowering her gaze.

  “I promise.” Even with Dad’s advice I don’t know crap about what I’m doing. Mr. Stone is stubborn. Like Regan. I hope I can convince him that Regan and I belong together.

  Regan’s hands move around my waist, and she relaxes her body under my arms with a lengthy exhale.

  I rest my cheek against her smooth, golden brown hair and take in a deep breath of her fragrance—mint and fresh air. “As much as I’d like to stay here in the middle of the road with you, we should probably go face our giant”

  13

  Lane

  Both of Regan’s parents’ cars are parked in the shed when we pull up. Regan slides out of the truck behind me.

  The nerves slowly knot the muscles in my lower back now that we’re actually here. I lace my fingers through hers. “Ready?” I ask.

  “No. Are you?” she asks, a crease between her drawn brows.

  “Maybe,” rolls out of me in a chuckle. “I feel like I’m ten years old, and we’re in trouble for breaking your dad’s soil testing kit, though.”

  Regan groans and says, “This is worse.”

  We take one step and then another until we’re standing on the doorstep. I suit up with bravado and squeeze her hand. Regan turns the knob and that’s when it hits me.

  This is for real.

  I swallow and cross the threshold, confident we’ll survive whatever is about to happen. Mr. Stone will realize I’m the same person who’s spent weeks at a time at his house in the summer as a kid. He’ll admit he overreacted.

  Regan’s parents, seated side by side at the oak dining table, watch as I close the door. Mr. Stone’s deep-set eyes pierce my boldness with a look. They chant he wishes I were dead.

  Dad warned me about his freeze-out tactics. He said not to look away. I don’t know if I can stay locked on.

  A sheen of sweat glazes the back of my neck before a word is even spoken. I rub my sweaty palm on my jeans and reach out to shake his hand. “Mr. Stone.”

  He finally grips my hand without alteration to his expression.

  One small step for team Lane. Next step? Thank your ally. “Mrs. Stone, thanks for letting me bring Regan home.”

  She nods, wearing a hint of a smile.

  I take a seat beside Regan. The seating arrangement is formal, legal. Mr. Stone is the judge and we are bottom feeders begging for mercy in his court.

  He doesn’t take his eyes off of me. Can he hear the anxiety pounding in my chest? It echoes in my ears, too, making it diffic
ult to stay calm and focused.

  Regan lets out an exasperated breath.

  I better say something before he starts in on her. “We wanted to tell you about ho—” No, that’s not how you’re supposed to start. I shake the words out of my head and start over. “Mr. and Mrs. Stone, Regan and I have been best friends for as long as I can remember. When I was about to leave for college, it hit me that we weren’t going to see each other all the time.”

  Cold waves hit me from Mr. Stone’s icy glare.

  I do my best to push forward. “It made me realize how much I was going to miss her. How much I care about her. We’ve talked about it”—I glance at Regan and continue—“and she feels the same way. Regan’s an important part of me and I don’t want to lose that.”

  Whew. I said it. Even with Mr. Stone staring at me like he was mentally carving me into little pieces, I didn’t screw up my speech.

  Regan’s hand rubs the top of my leg. At first it brings some relief, but then I realize her parents may know what she’s doing, and it puts me even more on edge. I swallow down the huge emotion cotton ball that’s been soaking up all my spit.

  “Tim.” Mrs. Stone prompts her husband to say something.

  “Are you finished?” Regan’s dad keeps his hard mask in place. I’ve never seen him like this before.

  “No, sir.” I’m certain he can smell my fear and is about to go in for the kill, but I sit up straighter and soldier through. “We tried to tell y’all at dinner the day I left for school.”

  He finally loosens up, placing his hands flat on the tabletop. “You didn’t try very hard, now did you?”

  “We did, Dad,” Regan says. “You were too busy saying how Lane needed to find a new best friend and drop me completely.” I bump Regan’s knee with mine under the table. Regan said she was going to keep her mouth shut because she didn’t want to have a repeat of last night. The fire is still burning inside her.

  Mr. Stone leans back against his chair. A tiny crack appears in his façade, loosening the vice around my chest.

  Keep laying out your case, Cary. “We thought maybe after a little time, you’d see that it’s okay. You’d change your mind about Regan being my best friend.” Hope is now the reason for my racing pulse, rather than being on edge.

  He presses his lips in a tight line. “Instead, you two decided to go behind our back.”

  Ouch. A blow to team Lane.

  Mr. Stone leans forward. “How long has this been going on, Lane?” Disdain drips from his lips. “Are you having sex with my daughter?”

  My head flinches back from his verbal jab. I stammer the words, “No, sir!”

  “Dad!”

  “Tim!”

  Regan and Mrs. Stone are clamoring in outrage, but I’m the one who was just sucker punched. My instinct is to shrink away from him. Mr. Stone’s eyes haven’t left mine since I shut the door to his house and it’s more than intimidating. I’ve been around him my whole life. But his glare, the loathing … it’s new to me.

  This is not about my ego or pride, because that left as soon as I walked in. If Dad hadn’t told me to take it like a man, I’d turn and scamper away with my tail between my legs. It’s not likely Dad thought Tim would drop the gavel on me like this, though.

  I force myself to stay on the mat and drown out the shouting crowd around us. Tim and I, we’re the professionals in the ring. All we see is each other gauging and analyzing the next move.

  I answer his first question. “How long have I liked Regan? I don’t know, a few years, I guess.” I look to Regan and smile. “Regan’s always been special to me. She’s brilliant and strong and kind, and I have the utmost respect for her. Our relationship is not about sex.” Holy cow! I don’t know how I came up with that, but it wasn’t bad.

  Mr. Stone is as rigid as ever, though. I’m not sure I’m getting anywhere. There was a sliver of hope, but now I’m wondering if I imagined it.

  He stands, knocking me off guard again. I stand, too. So does Regan. I’m sure my fear is showing since my eyes are bugging out of my head. At least they feel that way. Mr. Stone finally breaks the hold on me and steps around the table. At first, I think he’s coming to shake my hand, but he moves past me to the door.

  I turn to Mrs. Stone. Her brow crinkles as she eyes her husband. I’m not sure if she’s confused, disappointed, or mad.

  The creak from the door hinge opening stops my breathing. “Lane, I think you should go home now.”

  “What?” Regan whispers in disbelief. She grabs my arm and mouths “no” to me as pools of tears build on her bottom lashes.

  I’m almost certain that was an illegal move, striking below the belt. I twist to face him. “Mr. Stone—”

  “Dad—”

  He shakes his head and holds his hand up, cutting Regan and me off. Another blow.

  I hug Regan and whisper in her ear, “I’ll see you Sunday. Maybe sooner.”

  “Lane.” Mr. Stone scolds me to leave.

  Regan clings to my arm. “Dad, you can’t do this.”

  “I’ll be back tomorrow, Mr. Stone. And the next day.”

  “Goodbye, Lane.” He shuffles me out the door.

  I look over my shoulder at Regan. Tears fall from her eyes, but I can tell her jaw is clenched. She has a strange expression. Not hurt or determination, something else.

  “Lane.” Regan’s faint plea hits me right before the latch clicks shut.

  He kicked me out of his house? I can’t believe what’s happening. Hanging out with Regan Wednesday wasn’t that big of a deal. My hand runs through my hair.

  A door slams from somewhere inside. It makes me feel a little better for some reason.

  I shove my hands in my pockets and drag myself to the truck. What now?

  14

  Regan

  Tears stream down my face. Every fiber, every cell is shaking inside me with a mixture of disbelief, hurt, and anger that’s on the verge of unhinging my mouth and taking the fight to a level this family’s never seen before.

  Dad releases the door handle and looks to me as if it pained him to kick Lane out of the house.

  My chest shudders. After how he acted the whole time Lane was here, I seriously doubt it hurt him one bit. Snot drips from my sinuses down the back of my throat, and I have to swallow to get my words to squeak out. “Why are you doing this?”

  Dad crosses his arms, signaling that he’s not budging.

  “You just threw Lane out of the house. Lane. Your best friend’s son.”

  “Do you know how embarrassing it is that my daughter’s the talk of the town? What’s worse, I find out from my co-workers you’ve been sneaking around with him.” He swipes his hand down his face.

  “We tried to tell you but, —”

  “Tried to tell me you’ve been sneaking around?” He barks out. “I thought I raised you better than this.”

  “Dad, we haven’t done anything wrong. We were going to tell you today.” I motion to Mom sitting at the table. “Ask Mom.”

  He glances Mom’s way. Her lips are pressed tightly together as she nods and says, “I told your father already.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” I stand glaring at the two of them with my arms spread wide, waiting for an answer.

  “I don’t know what to believe anymore, Regan. If you have nothing to hide, you shouldn’t have been sneaking around. We can’t trust you to tell us the truth when you’ve been lying all this time. Lane either.”

  “Maybe if you hadn’t been treating me different since this summer, I wouldn’t have felt I had to hide it.”

  “I’m not arguing with you. I warned you against seeing a boy without permission a few months ago. You lied. And you’re grounded.” Dad waves his hand as if it’s the final word and he’s dismissing me.

  Maybe it’s the final word for him, but it’s not for me. I narrow my eyes, point at him, and push out my barely controlled words, “This is wrong, and you know it. The way you treated him—Lane’s not some stranger. You’ve
known him his whole life.” I snatch my bag from the floor and flee to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me.

  If I play my cards right, take as many credits as possible, I can graduate early. In the meantime, this room will be where I live when I have to be in this house.

  My body is so geared up I can’t be still, so I pace the small open area of my floor. Sparks of confusion ping in my brain all at once, and I can’t think straight. Nothing makes sense. Is Dad losing his ever-loving mind? Yeah, he’s strict, but this is over the top.

  Lane’s always been a part of this family just like I’ve always been a part of his. And his parents aren’t going to like the fact that Dad kicked him out of the house and said we can’t see each other, like ever.

  The only thing Mom’s done to help is let Lane pick me up from school today. What is going on with this family? Linc left me here to fend for myself, and now I don’t even have Lane to help me through it.

  Do I really not have Lane? I’ve always had Lane.

  Always.

  Dad can’t do this. How can he do this?

  The burn creeping up from my stomach is lodged in my chest. I rub a fist against it, hoping to find some relief. I stop pacing in front of my door and scan over Tobi’s scribbles about marine science on the chalkboard paint. Everything I want seems to be slipping through my fingers.

  The only part of Lane I can have is sitting neatly folded in my closet. I pad over and tug his sweater off the shelf, immediately hugging it to my face. It still radiates his woodsy, masculine scent. Instead of reminding me of what happened between us at Eastern a couple days ago, it scares me we’ll never be able to have what we want.

  I fall on my bed, curl up in a ball with my arms clinging to his sweater, and eventually cry myself to sleep.

  A few hours later, I wake with a massive headache and pad to the bathroom to pee. Mom and dad’s bickering voices float under the door from their bedroom. I pause and listen.