It’s Not Home Without You: A Homecoming Novel #1 Read online

  “Are you sure I look okay?” Freya stopped before I could open the door to my backyard. I already told her she looked beautiful, but she didn’t believe me. The weather was getting chilly, and I loved her sweater; it fell past a shoulder, revealing a hint of skin, and those jeans… don’t even get me started on the way they cupped her ass. I was already thinking of ways I could get her to myself, so I could make her moan my name. It was my new favorite hobby, watching her fall apart. I knew what I felt for her even if I had yet to tell her. I loved her, and I knew once they got to know her, my parents would love her as well.

  “You are the most beautiful girl in this town.”

  “Max, now you’re just talking crap. Come on, let’s get this over with. Let’s go meet your mom and dad.” She tried to give me an easy smile, but I saw through it. She was nervous as hell.

  Like always, my parents’ parties were more for politics than just to have fun and kick it.

  My father was at the grill with some of his friends, and my mother was sitting with Mrs. Newton having a drink. Holding on to Freya’s hand, I gave her a reassuring squeeze.

  “Mom, I would like you to meet Freya Pratt, my girlfriend.” My mother turned around and smiled at Freya and me. Maybe I had judged my mother too harshly, I knew deep down she always wanted what was best for us.

  “Lovely to meet you, Freya.”

  “You too, Mrs. Dunnett. You have a lovely home.”

  “Of course, she does. Did you expect anything less?” Mrs. Newton said, making me hold on to Freya’s hand a little tighter.

  “No, that’s not what I meant at all. It’s just that—"

  “Excuse us. We’re getting food.” I pulled Freya with me. I would not let her be subjected to Mrs. Newton’s nasty comments.

  Freya’s lower lip wobbled. “I made a mess of things, didn’t I?”

  At that moment, I wanted to punch Mrs. Newton for taking the light that usually shone in Freya’s bright eyes.

  “Nah, Mrs. Newton is a bitch to everyone. You did good, and besides, introducing you to the Newton’s was only a formality. Now let’s go. I’m suddenly famished.” At that, she finally smiled at me. God, I wanted to tell her I loved her; it had been nagging at me for some weeks now, but what if she thought it was too soon?

  “Max!” She pushed me, but not before I caught her blushing.

  “Close, but the way you say it is softer, almost like a gasp,” I taunted her, trying to get her to relax, even though my aching dick was not finding the humor in it.

  “Max!” She punched my arm but laughed.

  It was always about her. She was my priority. If she was happy, then I was too.

  * * *

  FREYA

  Maybe I had worried for nothing. I mean, his mom was polite, but then again, weren’t all rich people polite? Max was on me like gum stuck on a shoe, and I was grateful. I was waaay out of my element. As I looked around, I couldn’t help but compare the difference between Max and me. It must be nice to have grown up as he did. Two loving parents, being fortunate to have everything, and not wanting for anything. His parents couldn’t be all bad if they raised him. Max was kind, thoughtful, and caring, and that was just the tip of the iceberg of all the things I… I loved about him.

  God, I had no idea what I would do without him when he left. Sunny Pines had always been my home, but I had a feeling, once he left, it would not be home without him. I was scared. I didn’t want to let it show. Max had enough on his plate. I didn’t need to add to it. I would sound childish. My biggest fear was that he would forget me. He would go to his fancy college and meet girls his age.

  Girls who were nothing like me.

  Girls with big dreams, while the memory of me faded.

  “Freya, baby, are you okay?” Max pinched my cheek to get my attention. Shoot, I had spaced out on him.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I really need to pee though.” I smiled through my lie. I needed to get over my little freak-out. Graduation was coming, and fast. I needed to enjoy my time with him without creating drama. When I was in the bathroom, I splashed water on my face, took deep breaths, and calmed down. When I came out, Max was not waiting for me in the hallway like he had promised.

  “It’s so cute watching you and Max together.” Abigail was leaning at the end of the hall with a coke in her hand. “Enjoy the time you have with him while you can. You don’t honestly think he’ll stay with you after he leaves for college, do you?”

  My face must have given me away, my feelings out in the open for her to pick apart. Abigail laughed.

  “Oh God, this is so sad. You actually believe he will stay with you. Tell me, skank, what do you have to offer him? You have a ratty, old trailer to your name—sorry, your grandfather’s name. You still have two years left before you graduate. And two years is a long time. The only thing you give him is sex, and in college, that won’t be hard to come by. So, tell me why he would stay with you when he has the world at his feet? You come from different worlds. You’ll never fit.”

  Each word was like a kick to my stomach. It was one thing for me to think about it but another for Abigail to point it out. She looked me up and down, and with her perfectly manicured nails, she flipped her blonde hair. Then she walked away like she hadn’t just blown away my perfect, little fairy tale.

  Max and I weren’t even having sex. She was right; I had nothing to offer him. He would go out there to see the world, and I would be that girl he dated in high school.

  Was I going to become the girl who was a mistake?

  Trailer trash girl?

  Those three words haven’t been said, but I knew deep in my bones Max felt the same way about me as I did about him, but my insecurities weren’t letting me see past it.

  When Max finally found me, I smiled at him and pretended like nothing was wrong.

  Max wanted me, and that had to count for something, right?

  13

  Freya

  The Sunday crowd was no freaking joke. The coffee shop got packed, and I’m talking about a line all the way to the door, tables filled with teenagers and families, and kids running around making lots of noise. Since I was new, and in training, I felt like I wasn’t much help.

  Maybe Emma was testing me to see what I was made off?

  I was a fast learner, but not that fast. The safest option for me was on register duty while Emma and Jess got the orders ready. Safe to say, the heels came off after forty-five minutes. I had lots of people give me the whole “Freya, it’s good to see you” standard bullshit.

  Oh, I bet. I pretended like I didn’t feel their pity stares.

  Some people were bitchier and said how surprising it was that I didn’t turn out like they predicted, while most were happy to have me back.

  My deepest apologies for succeeding in life.

  “Well hello there,” I said low enough for Emma and Jess to hear me. I didn’t know the man walking in, but he was hot, around my age, and carried himself with confidence. Brown hair, nice beard, warm brown eyes that looked kind, well-built, good height this guy was one of the best looking guys in town. Hunkalicious. He reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

  “Hello, welcome to Emma’s Coffee where we serve the best coffee in town. How may I help you?” Was I flirty? Yes, I was. I needed a little appreciation from the opposite sex. My most recent ex-boyfriend cheated on me with half a city, my other ex-boyfriend was dating my high school nemesis. I needed something to give me that glee that came from getting compliments from a handsome guy. I needed a distraction, so I leaned over the counter just a little, giving him my best smile—the smile I used to win my customers over when they were scared to be daring. A smile that had gotten me out of many speeding tickets.

  The new hunky guy laughed at my flirtatious behavior. “Ah, a new face. I’ll have my usual. Emma knows just how I like it.”

  Both Jess and I turned to Emma who stopped what she was doing and froze like a deer caught in headlights. I was a little disappoin
ted just for a second, but then I beamed with glee at the thought of Emma and the hottie in front of me. They’d be so cute together.

  “Well, Emma will make it just how you like it, won’t you, Emma?” I used the same suggestive tone as him. Emma was beet red, but Jess was cracking up.

  “I’ll get to it,” Emma mumbled, her head down, looking at the floor like it was fascinating.

  The guy studied me, making me feel uncomfortable. “How do you like our town?”

  “I’m not new here. Born and raised. I moved back for now.” I held out my hand. “Freya Pratt.” When he shook my hand, I saw the badge on the side of his pants and the concealed weapon at his hip.

  “Dex Hendrix.”

  “Detective? Did good ol’ Timmy finally retire? How many cops in the precinct, still eight?”

  “More like eleven, and you mean Chief Timmy.”

  “Here you go, Dex.” Emma handed him the drink without looking at him.

  He said bye to Jess and me then. “I’ll see you around, Emma.” I waited until he left the coffee shop before I turned around to jump with glee.

  “Oh my God, Emma, he is dreamy, and he likes you.” I was nudging a blushing Emma who kept denying that the pretty town cop had a thing for her. I didn’t see how she couldn’t see it when it was freaking obvious.

  “He wants to date you. He wants to—”

  “Fuck you.” Jess wiggled her brows at Emma.

  “That too, but for the record, I was going to say kiss you.”

  “He’s nice, that’s all,” Emma tried to convince herself. Meanwhile, Jess gave me a funny look that told me that the cop probably tried flirting with her all the time, and she didn’t notice. That didn’t stop me from being so happy for Emma that I danced around her softly singing “Emma and Dex sitting in a tree.” I had forgotten I was wearing a crop top, and it had risen just a little, revealing a hint of skin, but it wasn’t like I was at church anymore.

  “Oh my God, I heard you were back, but I just didn’t believe it.” I stopped midsong and looked up at Abigail Newton, who was standing in front of the counter looking me up and down.

  “What can I get for you, Abigail?” my voice was a little clipped.

  Just a little.

  “A black coffee two sugars,” she said, looking sourly at Jess.

  “That’s it,” I said without thinking. “You come to the best coffee shop in town, and you order a black coffee? I’m not going to lie and say it’s not creepy. I read in a study that people who drink black coffee tend to be psychopaths,” I let my mouth run. I knew I messed up by Abigail’s angry glare and Jess’s soft laughter.

  “Don’t worry, Emma. I don’t expect this one to have any manners. You should work on your customer service skills if you want to keep this job. There aren’t many available in town.”

  Augh. Bitch much?

  Emma was bringing Abigail her drink when I felt him. I knew it in the way the air seemed to go thin. I stopped breathing when Max, who had yet to notice me, walked up to Abigail and rested his hand on her lower back.

  Familiar.

  I shouldn’t watch, but I couldn’t make myself to look away. Through the years, I told myself that it was okay if he moved on. I wanted the best for him, but seeing him now with her, I didn’t realize how much it would hurt. Seeing him hold her, I felt the loss of him holding me. I was cold even though I’d been without his touch for seven years. Wondering if he moved on was one thing because I didn’t put a face to the woman who would take his love. To the woman who would take my place, but seeing it—brutal. It left a scar you couldn’t see, but you felt it every time you breathed.

  Sharp pain.

  If I closed my eyes, I could still feel him. I could feel his arms caressing my sides until a slow ache took place. I could feel his breath on my skin causing shivers to break out. I didn’t remember our last kiss, but I remembered how it felt when he kissed me, how he would hover right above my lips, and it was heaven and hell because all I saw was him. All I smelled was him. When he finally put his lips on mine, I never wanted the kiss to end but needed the next one to begin.

  But Max had moved on, and I should be happy for him, but I couldn’t. All that talk about him deserving the best faded because a part of me screamed that I was the best.

  Jess handed me a cup, taking me out of my trance. It confused me since I had given Abigail her psycho drink, but I read the name on the side and cursed myself.

  Max.

  “Here you go,” I mumbled, interrupting him and his girlfriend. God, the words left a sour taste in my mouth. Acidic. Max looked up, his eyes widening for just a second, but he took the drink I was offering. Again, maybe I expected him to go off on me. Heck, at this point, I would welcome it. It had to be better than the coolness he was giving me.

  “Honey, can you believe Freya works here?” I didn’t know why Abigail was trying to make me feel embarrassed about working in a coffee shop when it was honest work. I didn’t work here; I was just helping out, but I didn’t need to let the bitch know that.

  “That’s great. Emma really needed help. I’m glad you’re helping her,” Max said with a smile. Seriously, he was going to smile at me? After what I did, he could stand there looking at me without flinching?

  What hurt the most was Max being nice. On a rare occasion, I pictured our reunion; it was never like this. I expected Max angry and demanding answers… I expected him to hate me.

  Hate evoked passion. But his gentleness, all it did was serve as a reminder I wasn’t worth remembering.

  “Well, as lovely as this reunion has been, we have to go. We have brunch with my parents, and we don’t want to be late.” Abigail’s eyes gleamed. Max was about to pay, but she insisted it was her treat. My world stopped for a second when she handed me the cash. It wasn’t because she gave me a hundred-dollar bill and told me to keep the change. Bitch. On her left hand sat a heart-shaped engagement ring. I stood there watching Abigail and Max walk away while I stared at both of them. They weren’t just dating; oh no, they were engaged.

  Then I remembered what Jana said at the supermarket. Abigail Newton is getting married. She would get married to Max.

  My Max.

  Except he wasn’t my Max anymore. He wasn’t anything to me. I made sure of that when I left him. Pastor Ian was right, decisions had a way of setting forth a chain of events you couldn’t predict. This was all on me. I drove Max right into Abigail’s arms.

  I watched them leave hand in hand, walking to Max’s Mercedes, and as much as it pained me, they looked good together. Better than we ever did. We were kids back then, not knowing what we wanted. Now he was a man, and he would get married. I felt the warmth of a tear sliding down my cheek. Whipping it away, I noticed that a few people were staring at me.

  “I’m going to take a quick break.” I smiled, trying to play off my hurt, but Emma saw past it, giving me a sad smile of her own.

  “Take all the time you need.”

  I didn’t need much encouragement to get out of everyone’s view. I’d be damned if they saw me fall apart. I walked back so the people wouldn’t see I cracked the seams that I had carefully put back together when I left this town. When I made it to the back, behind the kitchen island, I sank down to the floor. My hands were shaking. I was cold but also numbed. What did I expect to happen? I guess, as silly as it sounded, a part of me held on to hope that one day maybe things would work out, but that was stupid, wasn’t it? I mean, I left town; I had a life for myself, and when I met Ashton, I had a new future with a new guy.

  Then why did it hurt more to know Maximilian was getting married than when I walked in on Ashton cheating on me?

  I didn’t feel like crying when I walked in on Ashton. I was angry because I felt like the world’s biggest fool, but seeing Max with his fiancée opened my eyes. I saw him standing at the altar waiting for her, then at the hospital waiting for their first child.

  I went cold. This was all my fault, and I wanted to be happy for him, but at
the same time, I couldn’t help but ask myself if I ever meant anything to him at all. Did he love her more than he loved me? I knew the past was better left in the past, but this fucking hurt because he was mine… but now he was hers.

  Sticks and stones, right? Except sticks and stones didn’t qualify for this type of pain. Sticks and stones didn’t protect you from heartbreak, just bullies.

  14

  Max

  Eighteen years old

  There was a light tapping on my window, but I knew that couldn’t be possible since my room was on the second floor. Clank. There was that sound again. When I opened the window to look outside, I almost got hit in the face by a rock.

  What the fuck?

  My anger quickly evaporated when I saw my girl at the bottom waving at me. My parents weren’t home tonight. Immediately my night brightened up. “What are you doing down there? Come on, I’ll open the front door.”

  I had to dodge another rock. “I’m not here for that, asshole. Grab a black hoodie, if it’s even in your Richie Rich wardrobe, and meet us outside.“

  Us?

  That’s when I noticed what she was wearing. I groaned. I loved and hated those little black cotton shorts. They stuck to her body like Velcro, and I wasn’t the only one who took notice when she wore them. At least Prescott had graduated last year, so he wasn’t around to make remarks. Freya had on a black hoodie that said Hayward’s Auto Shop. It bothered me she was wearing Russell’s hoodie and not mine, so when I came down, I grabbed not just a black hoodie for myself but one for her.

  When I came outside, Freya was standing with Russell and Jake. Coming behind my girl, I wrapped my arms around her waist and rested my chin on the top of her head. It never went away, that rush of excitement I felt whenever I touched her.

  “Rust, Jake.” I gave both a handshake. “How was your first year at WU?” I asked Jake who had graduated last year.

  Jake let a slow grin. “It was fun. Girls everywhere.”

  I felt Freya’s body go rigid in my arms. School was almost over, and even though she told me everything was okay, I knew it wasn’t true. Prom was next week. Then I was out, no more school for me. Freya and I still had the summer, that had to count for something. Right? I held Freya a little closer, and the idea I’d been toying for the last year kept cementing itself more with each day.