Authors: Jennifer Laurens

Tags: #young adult romance

OVERPROTECTED (30 page)

Colin nodded. “You’re right.”

“He’ll see that I can be on my own, that I should be on my own.

He won’t have any way of stopping it.”

The elevator sped downward.

It was easy to pretend everything would work out. With Dad in the hospital, and Mother resigned to moving on, the townhouse was a lighter place. I struggled with feeling relieved that Dad wasn’t there.

Not that I wanted him out of my life forever, but having him gone, even temporarily, made it obvious that I could live on my own.

Mother seemed to sense that things were different between Dad and me. We didn’t discuss it—she became snappy when she talked about Dad, even though she’d accepted their failed marriage. I loved her enough to not go there.

The night before Dad was supposed to be discharged, she and I and Colin were seated in the dining room, eating dinner. Gavin brought out brownies ala mode.

“Brownies?” Mother’s brow cocked.

Gavin flushed, and flicked a glance at Colin. “I thought we were celebrating.”

“When was the last time I celebrated anything with
brownies
?”

Mother droned, disparagingly. “And with ice cream, no less.”

“He made them for me,” Colin piped. I bit my lip. “I’ve resigned, Fiona. I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

Mother’s eyes widened. Her mouth opened and it seemed a million demands dashed across her face, then slowly her expression shifted. A soft smile lit her lips. “I’m not surprised,” she said. “We can’t keep you forever.”

Colin dipped his head, and he picked up his spoon. “This looks great, Gav. Thank you.”

Gavin clasped his hands at his chest. “I haven’t made brownies since I was ten. I’m a little rusty.”

Mother poked at the ice cream, fudge sauce and brownie with her nose crinkled.

I took a spoonful. “It’s delicious, Gavin.”

Gavin tilted his head back and forth. “It’s not cherry claufoits.”

“Mmm.” Colin’s dimples flashed when he chewed.
Cute
.

Gavin excused himself and Mother sampled a bite of dessert.

A long silence grew. Colin and I glanced at each other. My cheeks heated every time he looked at me. I caught Mother watching, and she swallowed and set aside her spoon.

“Will you be going back to California, Colin?” she asked.

“For Christmas, yes.” He reached for his water goblet, sipped, eyes on me. “But then I’ll be back for school.”

“That will make Barb and Phil happy.” Mother pushed her brownie ala mode away and clasped her hands on the table. “We will miss you,” her tone was quiet. “You’ve told Charles?”

“Yes.” Colin put his goblet down on the table. “It’s been great being here. But you’ll see me again.”

Mother glanced briefly at me. “Oh?”

My nerves drew tight. I looked at Colin.

Colin’s gaze stayed firmly on Mother. “I love Ashlyn. I want to keep seeing her.”

Mother seemed to ponder through the thickening silence. Her gaze shifted to me, then back to Colin.

She pulled her dessert plate back in front of her, picked up her spoon and smiled. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.”

Spring

Sunny rays shot down between the towering buildings on Lexington Avenue. The air was thick, bordering on oppressive.

Exhaust fumes rode on the heavy atmosphere, but that just meant people were going places, doing things. Seeing friends.

Like me.

A smile filled my lips.

I walked alone. The pastel floral skirt I wore, flirted around my knees with each step. I’d pushed up the sleeves of the light lemon blouse so the bracelets I’d layered at my wrists glittered like thick, jeweled cuffs. I kept my bag tucked under my arm.

I was used to the presence of eyes watching me, of whispers trailing me wherever I went. I’d learned to ignore stares of curiosity, pointing fingers and the occasional clicking sound of a camera. I was still getting comfortable with being without a bodyguard—the vacancy slowly filling in with confidence. Felicity and I had taken a self-defense class together, and the can of pepper spray Colin had given me had come in handy when one particularly annoying paparazzo hadn’t gotten the message to keep his distance.

I wasn’t sure how long it would take for anonyminity to return, or if it ever would, but I didn’t let the strange celebrity stop me. I’d graduated from Chatham, been accepted to Juilliard and I allowed my heart the freedom it deserved.

Whether or not the guy following me now was someone Dad had hired to keep an eye on me from a distance, I wasn’t sure. Dad denied any involvement, but he’d been honest enough to tell me he couldn’t promise me that he wouldn’t keep an eye on me somehow.

Colin had to move on. I understood that—Colin leaving was as important to my freedom as me holding my own against Dad. I hadn’t seen him since he’d left the townhouse, though we’d talked some the phone. Hard as it was for me not to see him, he said he needed to clear his head. We both needed time to think. He said he wouldn’t see me until Dad was well on the road to recovery. I didn’t blame him—after moving from the townhouse with Mother to her new penthouse, I felt like the last chain had finally been cut from my ankle.

Being in Mother’s new place eased some of the longing. I didn’t walk by Colin’s empty bedroom and wish that I could see him look up from the book he was reading. Or catch him just out of the shower. Or see him in the music room, his shoulder against the wall as he listened to me play. Mother’s place held no images of Colin, no memories. It was a new start.

She’d bought me a white baby grand.

Dad had insisted the black grand stay with him. He resigned himself to the fact that living with Mother was my choice. All he asked was that I take his calls and indulge him in lunch and dinner invitations. And that I consider staying with him over the weekend sometime.

I thought that was a good place to start.

Coming to the corner of Fifth Avenue and 59th Street, I stopped with a small crowd; a mix of pedestrians and tourists. I crossed the street and the tourist crowd thickened as I neared Central Park. I caught sight of the vibrant green trees in the distance. The park was one of my favorite places in the city. I loved the bridges, the serene winding paths, the quiet private niches where lovers could meet.

Or reunite.

I turned a glance over my shoulder to see if the suited man was still tailing me. He was. I waved. His head averted the second I made eye contact.

Facing forward, I kept my gaze out ahead. As long as the suited guy kept his distance, we were good. I had more important things on my mind.

Approaching the entrance to the park, I saw him—watching me. His flash of dark hair, straight shoulders—the unforgettable presence of Colin Brennen. My pulse shimmied. He stood at the same entrance I’d run through months earlier the night I’d made him chase after me.

My nerves plucked as I neared. He pressed through the tourists and pedestrians like his life depended on breaking the barrier until he was finally ten feet away. I didn’t know if he still owned any of the designer clothes Mother had given him. Somehow, I doubted they mattered. He had on a pair of khakis and a short-sleeved black shirt.

His dimples deepened. “Ash.” He wrapped his arms around me and my body fluttered, longing at last contented. “I’ve missed you,” he said, his lips against my temple. Bodies filed around us.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

We held each other. Eyes closed, I fought the impulse to laugh and weep, the joy surging through my uncontainable.

His embrace loosened, and his gentle hands skimmed up my arms to my shoulders. He drew back, and his gaze seemed to say what I felt: looking at you eases everything inside of me. Finger under my chin, he lifted my face to his and kissed me. His mouth left mine and his eyes skimmed my face, my skin tingling as though he’d touched me. His gaze caught on someone behind me. He nodded at the man following my trail. “The new me?”

“No one can replace you.” Slipping my hand in his, I grinned. “It’s time to ditch him.”

About the Author

Jennifer Laurens is the mother of six children, one of whom has autism. She lives in Utah with her family, at the base of the Wasatch Mountains.

Other Titles:

Heavenly

Penitence

Absolution

Falling for Romeo

Magic Hands

Nailed

A Season of Eden

An Open Vein