Page 60 of Wasted Memories
“I don’t want to make a scene.” He took a step forward and I tightened my grip on her hand. “You haven’t exactly been easy to get a hold of recently.”
“I cared about you, Jett. A lot more than you ever gave me credit for. I would have wiped your vomit every damn night if I had to, but then you hit me. You hit me, and that’s where I draw the line.”
“I wasn’t doing well, Em. I would have never done that if-”
She cut him off. “You still did it. You hit me, scared me, and brushed it off like it wasnothing. I was tired of crying in that damn driveway when you were too fucking drunk to walk your ass inside. Tired of hiding how I really felt, and for what? To save you from the painyouwere causing everyone around you?”
His gaze was trained on the grass. He couldn't even look at Emerson as she spoke to him.Fucking coward.It took all I had in me not to force him to respect her when she spoke. “Just know that I would take it all back if I could. I never meant to hurt you and I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I did.” He turned away and walked down the sidewalk to where his rusty blue truck was parked.
Emerson blew out a breath, her hand gripped tight in mine. I watched as he got in his truck and drove off. Letting go of her hand, I wrapped my arm around her, rubbing her upper arm as I steered her toward my truck.
Opening the door for her, she got inside, pulling the bottom of her dark gray dress in with her. I stepped toward her and laid my hand on her hip farthest from me as I slid my other hand behind her neck. She turned to face me, our eyes level. “You’re strong, Em.”
She nodded, the tears she’d been holding back finally slipping over the edge. I pulled her to me, my lips colliding with hers. I kissed her deeply and with meaning, hoping she could feel the three words I wanted to say but couldn’t find the courage to speak.
Chapter Thirty Five
Emerson
Thesoundofcarsracing filled my ears as Wesley, Stella, Jessica, Easton and I walked up the stands to where Brendt had saved us seats.
It was the middle of the dirt track racing season and our group always made time to go on Saturday nights, never missing a local race. Since we clearly weren’t much of a group anymore, Wesley, Easton, Brendt, Stella, Jessica and I all came together.
Saturdays were typically the busiest day at the restaurant, but in the winter, business slowed as tourists stopped passing through, so Elijah agreed to give Jess and I Saturdays off all throughout winter, as long as we worked them the rest of the year. If he did need us to work, we'd only do mornings. It worked out perfectly with the racing season. I'd close the rest of the week if it meant I didn't miss the races.
“I thought you guys were never going to show up,” Brendt shouted over the engines.
“Blame Stella. She decided to take a thirty minute shower right when we showed up,” Jessica said.
Stella glared daggers at Brendt, daring him to poke fun at her. He held his hands up in mock surrender, bringing his gaze back to the track.
Wesley rested his hand on my thigh, his knee touching mine. Easton and Brendt sat on the other side of him, Stella and Jessica to my right. Stella and Brendt were as far as they could get from each other. I didn’t miss the glances Brendt sent over our heads at her, though.
The crowd cheered around us as the checkered flag waved, the announcer’s voice echoing through the stands as he announced the first place driver in the first race of the night.
Jessica sat forward, eyeing Stella and me. “I’m going to get beer before the next race starts. Want to come?”
“Yeah. Anyone want anything?” Stella asked the rest of us.
“I’ll come, too,” I said.
Wesley pulled cash out of his wallet and handed it to me. I took it and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. I’ll get you a beer.”
Easton held up a finger. “I’ll take one, too.”
“Want me to go with you guys?” Brendt asked.
“No,” Stella snipped as she shuffled to stairs that lead down to the ground.
“Text me if you guys want anything else,” I said before following suit, Jessica at my heels.
We made our way through the crowd to the concession stand behind the metal bleachers. After the seven people ahead of us ordered, we made it to the head of the line and ordered six beers. The total being over fifty dollars made me want to quit drinking altogether. They overpriced everything at these events.
“It looks like Brendt is getting along with the guys pretty well,” Jessica said as we grabbed two beers each to head back to the stands.
“Yeah, maybe he’ll stick with them instead of going back to Jett and Luke. Is Wesley staying in Oldport?” Stella asked, some of the beer sloshing out of one of her plastic cups.
Before I could reply, an arm knocked into mine, one of the beers in my hand spilling out a quarter of the contents.
