Page 46 of Where You Belong

When I see Corbin’s name on my screen, my heart sinks into the pit of my stomach.

He’s tried to reach out to me all week, but his messages were met with no response. If I’m being honest, I didn’t know what to say to him. After my conversation with my mom, I still had so many thoughts swirling through my mind. I could barely wrap my head around how I’d begin to explain it to him.

Corbin: Please talk to me.

As soon as he sees I’ve read his message, another text dings.

Corbin: Haelynn… please.

He doesn’t deserve for me to keep pushing him off, and knowing that’s what I’m doing makes me feel even worse. He deserves to know why our relationship can’t go any further. I just don’t know if I have the strength to break it to him yet.

It wasn’t fair of me to put him through this, though. I didn’t want to hurt him or myself more than I have, especially when he’s been so good to me and Huxton.

Me: Can I come see you?

He responds right away with a “yes” followed by his address. I have an idea of where he lives after he mentioned living in one of the farmhouses along the main road leading out of Arbor Creek. There weren’t too many other houses it could be.

It took me less than five minutes to drive from my mom’s house to his place. On one hand, I could’ve used more time, but I knew this had to be done one way or another. Avoiding it wouldn’t change the reality of the situation.

It’s early September, and the leaves have begun to change. The sky continues to grow darker by the minute as the daylight dwindles. The wind whips through the trees lining the property, a clear sign that the storm brewing will be wicked.

I pull my car into the driveway, parking in the open spot next to Corbin’s pickup. A large garage sits on the backside of the property. You wouldn’t see it if you were driving past, but something about seeing his truck makes me feel closer to him, knowing he wasn’t too far away.

It’s a beautifully crafted farmhouse with a wraparound porch. The swing on the front, just below the second-story balcony, gave all the small-town farm life feels. Immediately, my mind drifts off to thoughts of Huxton growing up here, playing in the yard and swinging with me on a warm spring day. My heart aches with dread at the thought of losing the future with Corbin I can so clearly see.

The paint on the old house is chipping, the wood worn and distressed over the years. When I round the back of my car to climb the steps, the deep timbre of his voice has me stopping in my tracks.

“Hey,” he says, sending chills through me.

I turn to look at him from where he stands. He’s holding a dirty rag, wiping off the dirt or oil marking his hands covering the front of his pants.

He’s wearing a long sleeve plaid button-up shirt with the top few buttons undone, showing his tan skin beneath the material. My eyes drop to the hint of chest hair, biting down on my lip before my gaze finds his.

Once again, my own thoughts reign terror on me as I picture him stalking in through the door as I’m making dinner after he’s been outside working in the yard. My mind filters back to how sexy he looked standing in my kitchen the night he stayed over, memories of him shirtless leaning over the top of me.

“This is a pleasant surprise. I started to wonder if I’d ever see or talk to you again.”

Seeing him now, I don’t know if I’ll be able to work up the courage to walk away from him. I hate the thought of him looking at me differently than he does now, knowing once I break down and tell him the truth, it will change how he sees me forever.

A part of me wished I could push all the thoughts and fears piling up in my mind and soak up this feeling with him for a little longer. I know how selfish it would be of me to do, though.

He shoves the rag into his pocket and crosses the driveway toward me. I suck in a quick breath, twisting my fingers in my hands. The urge to reach out and touch him is making it impossible right now.

His gaze drops to my hands, bouncing back to where my bottom lip is caught between my teeth. A smile lines the edge of his mouth, and he knows he’s got me.

“We have so much we need to talk about…” My voice trails off.

He flicks his thumb over his chin, nodding before looking back at me. Sweat dots his brow, and he raises his forearm to dab it off.

“We do.”

He takes a step toward me. The closer we get to each other, the more intoxicated I feel.

“Corbin,” I mutter, staring at him when he stops a foot away from me.

He reaches his hand out and grips my hip, pulling me closer to him. My hands press against his firm chest, running over his pecs, feeling every delicious ridge of his body.

“Mm-hmm,” he hums, leaning his head closer to me.

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