Read Online Carry Me Home by Lia Riley - Free Book Online Page B

He’ll get his life back on track better without me. His mom, Lydia, is so much happier without my mom. She has a cute wife now. They come into the natural-food grocery store where I work and stage mock debates over soy versus rice milk.
    Delilah? She fled straight into the arms of Lydia’s polar opposite—beefy, hairy, tatted-up Hoss—and headed east, to where the sun rises, like she could reset her life, her decisions, her loneliness. Maybe she thought Mimsy would make me a better mom. At least on that point she was right.
    Tanner has no idea my stepdad’s in jail or that my life resembles a daytime television drama. No one does. That’s my shit, and I keep it under wraps.
    Half-dried sweat cools on my palms. “I need to go, Green. It’s not about you. Like I said, this…this was nothing.”
    His expression goes as flat as my bag. He doesn’t move. I’m not even sure he’s breathing.
    “Look. I—you—me—there’s something there, okay? Who knows what? Probably just curiosity.” Great, now he has me babbling.
    “I’m not curious,” he says flatly, lifting his gaze. The undisclosed longing in his expression hits me like high beams in the dark. I’m standing here like a stupid deer, frozen, waiting for impact.
    “Great.” I throw up my hands. “Good for you.”
    He’s silent, his eyes not leaving my face. “I’ve thought about you. A lot. More than I should. More than is okay. And did I plan on any of this happening tonight? No, but it did and I don’t regret a second. I’m not curious, because I know you, Sunny. And I like who you are.”
    There will be time to reflect on everything he’s saying after I’ve put a hundred miles between us. I’ll pull over at a rest stop, light a joint, listen to some music, and play “I like who you are” on repeat in my mind.
    But not now. Not yet. I’m in pure survival mode.
    I flee to the bathroom, grab my toothbrush, and come out. My heart is beating way too fast. I’m not used to this skittish, jump-out-of-my-skin feeling. Usually getting off is a sedative to me. Post-orgasm naps are my jam.
    Tanner’s eyes match the fog; veiled in his gaze are hints of all that’s going unsaid.
    “Come outside?” My voice is unfamiliar, pleading even. “I want to lock up.”
    “No, you don’t,” he says flatly.
    “Yes, I do.” What’s up with the whole he says/she says?
    “You’ve locked me out since that summer, but I don’t think it’s ever been what you’ve wanted.”
    My mind blanks, all words running for cover.
    “You don’t know the first thing about what I want, Green.”
    “Maybe not, but I’ve got a good idea what you need.”
    I spin on my heel and storm around the side of my house, cursing under my breath, because the fucked-up thing of it is, maybe he’s right.

Sunny
    I get to the front yard and I’m all alone. Why, when I want to go, get the fuck out of Dodge, am I annoyed Tanner doesn’t try to stop me? If he really wants this, why doesn’t he fight?
    God, I’m like the girl who’s all, “I hate drama,” and keeps shoveling the shit on my soap-opera flame. It’s disgusting. I get to my rusty black truck, purchased for eight hundred bucks. It’s a total piece of shit, but I adore my big hulking baby. I call it Batman, because if a vehicle could brood, this one would take the cake. Plus, I love superheroes. I’m normally Team Marvel, but I’ll make an exception for Bruce Wayne. He’s my forever favorite.
    “Where are you going?” Tanner dodges the driver’s side door as I throw it open.
    “Away.” I jump into the cab and toss my bag on the seat. Does he really want to play twenty questions?
    “You’re acting crazy.” He grips the handle, won’t let me shut it.
    I shove my key in the ignition, turn, and nothing. Oh, come the fuck on. I do it again and same reaction. You have got to be kidding me. Batman is going to hell if he lets me down.
    Hear that, old friend? Sell me out and it’s straight to the salvage lot