Chapter 38: Hidden Scars: Chapter 37

racing, telling me I’m in danger and have to look out, but my head is finally quiet. Mostly. I’ve fucked this up so badly that I’m not sure if I can really fix it. Will he trust me after this? I don’t trust myself.

I’m exhausted. Physically and mentally drained from the last few days of living without him. That’s pathetic and selfish but it’s the truth. I caught sight of myself in a mirror at the airport and the dark circles under my eyes look like someone punched me in the face. But I’m warm again and Jeremy’s hand is in mine. He’s mine.

In the front pocket of my backpack is a leather cuff bracelet with hockey sticks embossed into it. I saw it while I was waiting for my flight and had to have it for Jeremy. We’re going to be together on Christmas and I can’t show up with nothing. I don’t have anything for his parents besides a bottle of wine I already grabbed in the same little shop I got the bracelet.

The drive to where Jeremy is taking me doesn’t take long enough. It’s not enough time for me to be with just him, to get my head on semi-straight. I’m not ready to go inside and have to talk and smile and be pleasant.

“This is my grandma’s house, it’s baking day for the women in my family, all the guys are out on the lake fishing, but they’re busy so they should leave us alone if we go upstairs.” Jeremy sits back in the seat as he looks at the house we’re parked in front of.

The pressure on my chest is increasing. My breaths are too fast, and my palms are sweaty. I can’t do this. I shouldn’t even be here.

“Preston.” Jeremy pulls on my hand and reaches for me with his other hand. I flinch as he touches my cheek and pulls my face toward him. “Look at me.”

I can’t keep my focus on his face, my gaze swings from left to right and back.

“Why don’t I go get my mom’s house keys and we can just go back to the house? Would that be better?”

I nod, I think, but I can’t tell. I don’t have control over my body or my mind anymore. All I need is to sleep but I can’t when he’s not with me. Why can’t he understand that?

The urge to cry is stronger than it should be. Men don’t cry. They are stoic and calm and suck it up with only anger to get shit done. Suck it up and get it done. But I’m tired. I want to be weak. Why can’t I be weak for just a minute?

“Hey, I’ll be right back. Okay?” His face wobbles with the tears trying to fall from my lashes. He kisses my forehead and gets out, running to the house.

I close my eyes and breathe, running my hands up and down my thighs.

My father’s voice is sharp in my head, playing on the insecurities he put there to keep me beneath him.

The car door opens again, Jeremy’s face, red with cold, turns to me as he starts up the car.

“Okay, here we go.”

“Wait!” I unbuckle my seatbelt and reach for the door. “I have to introduce myself to your mom so I don’t embarrass you.”

I’m halfway out the door when Jeremy’s hand lands on my arm and he pulls me back inside.

“What are you talking about? You are exhausted and need to rest. I told them you took a red eye and stayed up all night, and that you would meet them tonight. They understand, it’s okay.” He looks at me in earnest. “And you’re definitely not an embarrassment. I would never be embarrassed to tell anyone you’re mine.”

“It’s impolite to not introduce myself. I have to meet them.” My argument is weak, even to me.

“You will meet them, when you are rested and in a better head space.” He squeezes my hand and I buckle my seat belt again.

“Are you sure? I’ve already caused you a lot of problems, I don’t want—”

“Stop.” Jeremy squeezes my hand again. “They will love you, I promise.”

I nod and relax into the seat, dropping my head to the headrest while Jeremy pulls away from the curb.

A few quiet minutes later, we’re pulling into the driveway of a two story ranch style house. It’s blue with white trim and a metal roof. Homey and welcoming. It’s easy to picture kids playing in the front yard, running through sprinklers and setting up a lemonade stand.

Jeremy gets out of the car and I follow him up the walkway to the door. We stop at the entrance to take off our shoes and jackets. The walls are a cream color with a natural wood chair rail and moulding. The walls are lined with framed pictures and decorations I would expect to find in a cabin, bears and moose, buffalo plaid, and pine trees. It’s welcoming and comfortable though, which is more than I can say for any of the places my dad has lived.

“Are you hungry?” Jeremy asks me, pulling my attention away from the pictures of him and his siblings on the wall.

“No.” I shake my head. “Just tired.”

He reaches for my hand and I let him pull me through the house to a staircase. We climb up and even with his sexy ass literally in my face, I’m too exhausted to appreciate it properly.

“Shower?” he asks as we stop at the landing at the top of the stairs. There’s a few doors up here, probably a bathroom and three bedrooms if I had to guess.

I shake my head. I don’t know how I’m still standing upright as exhaustion is taking over.

“Come on.” He chuckles when I sway. He leads me to a door on the right of the stairs and opens it for me. It’s definitely Jeremy’s room. It smells like him, the walls are lined with hockey posters and swag from the Lumberjacks. It makes me smile, getting to see this part of him.

“Where’s your bag? Do you have pajamas or are you sleeping in jeans?” Jeremy wraps his arms around my waist, his hands landing on my lower back. Our abdomens are pushed together and my hands cup his head, dropping my forehead to his.

“I missed you.” I breathe the words into the space between us.

Jeremy’s arms tighten around me and he lifts his mouth to me. I don’t hesitate to press mine to his in a quick kiss. I’m too tired to do anything else.

“Do you want something to change into?” he asks me as he steps back and strips out of his jeans and t-shirt, tossing them on the foot of the bed.

I shake my head and drop my jeans to the floor, stepping out of them and looking up at him when he doesn’t move to the bed. He’s staring at my legs, at the scars that can be seen below my boxer briefs. I can’t raise the energy it takes to be embarrassed. I’m about to pass out on my feet.

“Jeremy,” I mumble, swaying toward the bed.

“Shit, sorry.” He pulls back the blanket and lets me climb into the bed first so I can be by the wall. He slides in after me, laying on his back so I can collapse on his chest. I hook my leg over one of his, bury my face in his neck, and wrap my arms around him until my hands are under his back. My eyes close and it’s lights out.

The next time my eyes open, the sun is streaming in the window and it makes my head ache.

Sitting up, I look around the room and don’t see him.

“Jeremy?” My voice is hoarse with sleep and from having a dry throat. I’m so thirsty.

I don’t hear any movement, so I get out of bed and notice my lack of pants. Fuck. My shoulders droop and I scrub a hand over my face. I didn’t want him to see them. Not now. Not like this.

“Jeremy?” I call again, looking for my pants. I find them at the end of the bed with my backpack. Did I put anything in there?

I pull on the jeans and open the bag to look for a change of clothes. What I find makes me freeze.

Five pairs of socks, two pairs of underwear, one shirt, and a deodorant stick. What the actual fuck?

I swipe my pits so I don’t stink for now, change my shirt and underwear, then head downstairs. Sounds of sizzling bacon and brewing coffee come from the kitchen with the low hum of conversation. My stomach grumbles at the scent of food.

Rolling my shoulders and straightening my spine, I school my face to neutral before I enter the kitchen. A woman with brown hair twisted into a bun wearing a blue bathrobe is standing at the stove. Eggs and bacon are cooking, with a pile of pancakes on a plate next to her and a cup of coffee in her hand.

“Good morning,” she sends me a quick smile. “There’s OJ in the fridge, cream and milk too. Coffee is about ready and breakfast will be ready in about five minutes.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” I nod to her and look around the kitchen that’s open to the dining room and living room. My eyes meet Jeremy’s in the living room and I shove my hands in my pockets, when he stands and comes toward us. I hate how awkward I am, how unsure of everything I am here. It’s not like me. I’m confident in everything I do but here, I’m so out of my element I feel like I’m drowning.

“Mom,” Jeremy says, wrapping an arm around my waist. “This is my boyfriend, Preston.”

She puts down the spatula and smiles up at me. “It’s so nice to meet you, Preston. We’re glad to have you with us. You can call me Mom or Trish.” She reaches to give me a hug but I flinch, taking a step back.

Her face falls and she looks to Jeremy, who pulls me into his side.

“He’s not much of a hugger,” Jeremy informs her while I fight with myself.. “I get boyfriend privileges,” he says with a smile.

She nods and offers me her hand to shake, which I take gratefully. “Thank you for having me, especially at the last minute.”

“You know, you’re the first guy Jeremy has brought home. I’m sure I can dig up some baby pictures.” She winks at me conspiratorially and I smile at her as Jeremy groans. “ Go sit, boys.” Mrs. Albrooke shoos us out of the kitchen and I gratefully take the out to go sit in the living room. Jeremy offers me the seat at the end of the couch then leans against me once he’s settled. Two younger boys sit on one couch, faces buried in their phones, and an older man sits at the table reading a newspaper.

I lean in to whisper to Jeremy. “I didn’t know people still read the newspaper.” He chuckles and reaches for a glass of water and hands it to me.

Grateful for it, I chug the glass and set it back on the table.

“Dad reads it every morning, like clockwork.”

I nod and wrap an arm around Jeremy’s shoulder, threading my fingers with his. The boys look up at the movement and pin me with a serious look, mouths flat, eyes staring holes into me, fists clenched. It’s creepy.

Unsure of what to say, I try to give them a smile but it falls flat. I’ve never been in a relationship, never met anyone’s family before, never had someone be important to me, so I don’t know how to do this. My people skills suck on the best of days.

I’m about to ask Jeremy what to do when he looks over.

“Knock it off,” he tells the boys.

Smiles burst across their faces, turning into chuckles as they relax, putting the phones down.

“I’m Keith, that’s Jordan,” the one on the right says.

Jeremy scoffs and shakes his head. “Liar.”

“How do you tell them apart?” I ask Jeremy.

“The attitude mostly. Keith is the quieter of the two, Jordan is the trouble maker. But Jordan also has a little scar at his hairline that helps.”

The one who introduced them smiles bigger.

“But don’t feel bad if you get them mixed up, they do it on purpose to mess with everyone. Stacy gets it right about half the time, but I’m almost always right.”

“Breakfast!” His mom calls from the table and the boys hustle over, filling their plates to overflowing. One gets orange juice while the other gets milk. I wait until everyone is done serving themselves before I grab a plate and scoop up some eggs and bacon. Jeremy smirks but doesn’t say anything.

As good as those pancakes smell, I can’t make myself eat them. I’ve done enough damage to my diet lately.

I refill my water glass and sit down at the table next to Jeremy.

There’s another seat next to him and a high chair between it and Mrs. Albrooke, but I don’t ask about it. I’m curious about Jeremy’s daughter since he’s said he’s gay, but this isn’t the time for it.

“Tell us about yourself, Preston,” Jeremy’s father says, looking up from his plate.

The blood drains from my face. What the hell am I supposed to say to that?

“Um, well, sir,” I start, swallowing hard. “There’s not much to tell. My life revolves around hockey.” God, could I sound any lamer?

Jeremy’s hand rests on my leg.

“What he really wants to know is if he can talk fishing, hunting, or football with you.” He looks at his dad and answers for me. “No.”

Mr. Albrooke sighs and shakes his head. “Where are you from, son?”

“Boston, mostly,” I answer, waiting for the comment I know is coming.

“You don’t sound like you’re from Boston.”

“My parents aren’t from the area.”

Footsteps sound overhead and a feminine voice can be heard, though I can’t understand the words.

“Ella is up,” Mrs. Albrooke says and Jeremy pulls the highchair closer to him, putting food on it and cutting it up, then goes to the kitchen and gets a sippy cup and fills it with milk. If she’s up, shouldn’t Jeremy be getting her? Maybe he made arrangements with his sister for baby duty, just in case she woke up in the middle of the night so he wouldn’t wake me up?

A woman not much older than me and Jeremy carrying a little blonde girl on her hip comes into the kitchen. Jeremy’s face lights up when the little girl reaches for him and he takes her from the woman I assume is his sister, Stacy.

“Good morning, baby girl.” He kisses her cheek and hands her the sippy cup. They come to the table and he sets her in the highchair to eat. My heart warms watching him with her. He’s so happy to see her, to be with her.

Jeremy sits down next to me and puts his hand back on my leg, but is making faces and talking to the little girl. How is this going to work if we stay together long term? He’s going to want to come back here to be with his kid, he’s a good fucking dad, obviously, but I am not father material. I’ve never been around kids or wanted them. I don’t have any clue what I want to do after college. Zero. My entire life goal is to get away from my father. After that, I have nothing.

My stomach clenches as the what ifs of the future bombard me. I don’t think we can do this.

As I pick up my fork to force myself to eat, my hand shakes, making the utensil clatter against the white ceramic plate.

The woman sits down with a cup of coffee and finally sees me.

“Oh, the boyfriend is up.” She grins at me.

“Don’t be a bitch,” Jeremy says, not looking away from Ella, who is smooshing bits of pancake with her cup.

“Jeremy! Do not call your sister names!” their mother scolds, the boys snicker and continue to shove an ungodly amount of pancakes into their mouths. Just watching them consume that much sugar and carbs makes my stomach hurt.

I force myself to eat my breakfast and watch the family interact. It’s been a long time since I’ve been around a real, normal family. My grandparents died in a boating accident around the same time my mother was murdered and I wasn’t allowed to have friends, so I have nothing else to base normal off of.

“What time are we going to your parents’?” Mr. Albrooke asks his wife.

“Mom said one o’clock.”

I look at Jeremy and he meets my gaze. “We spend Christmas Eve with my mom’s parents. My dad’s parents are in Northern Michigan so we go there for Thanksgiving. Tomorrow will be just us here at the house.”

I swallow thickly and nod, making myself give him a small smile. The last thing I want to do is be further inundated into his life. When this falls apart, and it will because we are too different, it will be harder for me to disappear. To fade into the background of his world.

He gives me a weird look and cocks his head a little. I guess I’m not very good at hiding my expressions from him.

“Excuse me.” I lift my plate and take it to the kitchen, rinsing it off and putting it in the sink before heading upstairs. I’m halfway up the stairs when footsteps sound behind me and I know it’s Jeremy. I don’t have anything to offer anyone here. My father would be furious if he saw how unprepared I am right now. I can’t even clothe myself.

“Hey,” he reaches for my hand. “Are you okay?’

“No! I’m not,” I snap, pulling my hand from his and striding for his room. I can’t look at him and see that rejected look I know I just put on his face. It’s one more thing I’ve fucked up. It’s why I should be alone.

The door closes behind Jeremy and I stop next to the bed with my hands on my hips. I’m furious at myself for letting myself believe I could be enough for him.

“Preston.” I flinch at the hard line in his voice when he says my name. “I can’t help if you won’t fucking talk to me.”

I spin on him to find him standing with his feet planted and his arms crossed over his chest.

“You want me to talk to you?” I stalk up to him, getting into his face, gripping his hair in my hand and forcing him to look up at me. “You want to know how I’m not good enough for you? How I have nothing to fucking offer you? How you deserve a hell of a lot better than my fucked up ass? Someone you can show off and be proud of, someone you can touch?” His brows pull together, but I continue. “How I’m not made for kids and Christmases with grandparents? I’m unprepared for everything around me and I can’t handle it. I hate myself, so how can anyone want to be around me, much less me?”

When I open my mouth to vomit more words, Jeremy covers my mouth with his hand.

“Shut up.” His spine straightens and shoulders square like he’s ready for a fight, but I doubt it’ll be physical. No, he’s going to destroy me with words and it’s going to hurt so much worse. “The only person who thinks you aren’t good enough for me is you. I deserve whatever I say I do, and I want you. That makes you fucking worthy because I said so. You have some baggage, I’ll give you that, but it’s not an inconvenience or a burden to me.”

I let go of his hair, my arms falling to lay limply at my sides, but Jeremy slides his hands around my head to hold me against him.

“Do you really think I won’t show you off? I’ll show you off to everyone and damn the consequences. The only thing holding me back is not knowing how the team will handle it because I know no one will really fuck with you, they’re scared of you, but if they mess with me, you’ll hurt them. I don’t want that for you.” He pulls my forehead down to rest on his, my chest tight with emotions I don’t want to express. It hurts to be loved. So much more than I thought possible.

“And I touch you whenever I want. I know where it’s okay and the limitations don’t bother me. I understand why they exist. Give me a better map of where it’s okay and I will touch every centimeter I’m allowed. None of that makes you unlovable or undeserving. What’s happened to you is not your fault and if or when you decide to take down your dad, I will stand right next to you.”

The vice grip around my ribs tightens with every word, making it hard to breathe. My heart flutters in my chest leaving me shaky and unsure of my footing. I don’t know what to do with this acceptance, this love. It’s the scariest thing I’ve ever done. Lifting my arms, I wrap them around him to pull him fully against me.

“I like that you need me, fight with me, fuck the absolute shit out of me.” He smirks at the last part and I chuckle through the knot in my throat. “Because I get to see parts of you that no one else sees. You aren’t easy and I don’t know how to tell you this, but I like a challenge. So, take this one day at a time with me until you’re ready to plan for the future. I’ll wait for you.”

I take his lips in a watery, tear-filled kiss. I do need him, but I don’t know to need him. My throat burns and my soul screams at me to hold on to him with both hands while my head tells me to run so it doesn’t hurt more later.

His tongue tangles with mine, just as invested in this moment as I am. I run my hands under his t-shirt, needing his skin. Every inch of my body craves to be against his. Not even sexually, just together.

Releasing his lips, I look him in the eye and ask him something I’ve never considered with another person.

“Shower with me?”