Authors: K.R. Wilburn
Published by K.R. Wilburn Books in 2015
This book is a work of fiction.
References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously.
All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
LOVING MONDAYS.
Copyright © 2014 by K.R. Wilburn.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
DEDICATION
For Ben
With all of my heart for all of our tomorrows.
"Jesus, I hate flying coach," grumbled a voice next to me.
"I swear the only way to get through flying in the cheap seats is Xanax and gallons of spiked eggnog."
My gaze slid to the young woman crammed next to me in the too-small seat and I took a sip from my plastic cup of ginger ale.
Flying always made my stomach do flips no matter which section of the plane I was in, but the headache I had brewing had nothing to do with hurtling through the air in a tin can while choking on the clouds of cupcake scented perfume my seat mate had obviously bathed in.
No, this headache had sprung up the moment I knew I would have to go back to Texas, back to the one place I had never wanted to see again and face the one girl I never could escape.
"You look really familiar to me, have we met some place?"
"I doubt it."
Or rather I really hoped not.
There were plenty of women roaming around Florida who knew me in a biblical sense, but none that I was interested in seeing ever again.
"Are you sure? Because I could swear I've seen your face somewhere before."
She cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips while she stared at me.
It made her look like a deranged cocker spaniel and it was everything I could do not to promise to scratch behind her ears if she'd just quit yapping at me. "Oh! I know!
You're Cody Jackson aren't you?
You play for Florida State!
My brother drags me to all of your games, I just didn't realize it was you with your helmet off.
Oh-em-gee!
My sorority sisters are going to just die when they realize that I got to meet you!"
Her lips kept moving, but I was no longer listening to her, searching instead for the flight attendant. If I was going to be forced to listen to this woman the entire flight to Dallas, I was going to need something stronger than my ginger ale or I would stop pretending that I was calm and let loose with all the turmoil bubbling inside me. With the way things were going this week, the whole thing would get live-tweeted and wind up on ESPN before I even landed.
I could just see the headlines now.
“Heisman winner Cody Jackson verbally assaults woman on flight, ruins Christmas for everyone on board, invitation to carve the Whoville roast beast rescinded amongst allegations of general grinchiness.”
I sighed and instead of saying what I wanted to, I forced my face into what I hoped was a passable smile while she took a half a dozen selfies with me, all while hinting not so subtly how willing she would be to keep me company for the holidays instead of going home to see her parents.
I could practically see her calculating the easiest way to land herself a future NFL pro for a boyfriend and just how many holes she could poke into a condom before getting caught. I just wanted to land and get as far away from this chick as I could.
I didn't even want to think about what was going to happen after that.
Luke had offered to pick me up at the airport, but I had hung up before he could finish his offer.
Going home to scatter the ashes of the last family member I had left was hard enough; there was no way in hell I was sitting in a truck with my former best friend for the two hour drive back to the ranch from Dallas on top of it.
I had been planning on spending the holidays in Key West with some of the other guys from the team just so I could avoid going home to see Gran for the holidays like I had every Christmas for the last four years.
My guilt would eat me alive if I didn't go home to honor her final wishes.
My chest ached.
Gran was dead and I would never get to spend another holiday with her again. I was such an asshole.
I knew she wouldn't leave the ranch, but I still hadn't been back to see her since I left for college.
I should have made time, but I had been avoiding going home and having to see Luke living happily ever after with the love of my life. She understood that I didn't want to see them, even if I had always steadfastly refused to tell her why.
Gran was good like that; she always took my side no matter what.
And where Luke and Monday were concerned, I couldn’t even begin to talk about what had happened that would make me cut them out so thoroughly that any mention of their names was strictly avoided.
"So what do you think?"
"What do I think of what?" I growled at my seatmate, irritated to find that she was still talking.
"Of dinner?
Or maybe we can just grab a few drinks if you like?
I can hold off going to see the family for a few days. I've been an awfully good girl this year and if you play your cards right, maybe I can sit on your lap and tell you what I want for Christmas."
Helen Keller could figure out what this girl wanted for Christmas and I could feel my patience waning.
Where the hell was that flight attendant?
"Somehow I doubt you've ever been a good girl in your life.
I appreciate the offer but I'm going to pass. I'm not much for company right now."
"Well, if you change your mind," she simpered, batting her overly made-up eyes at me, and scribbling a number on the damp piece of napkin that sat on my tray, "you just give me a call.
I'm sure I can put you in the holiday spirit."
"I'll keep that in mind." I tucked the napkin in my pocket, thinking it would be rude to just toss it out in front of her and waved at the flight attendant when I finally caught her eye.
"What can I help you with, sir?" The flight attendant smiled as she approached.
"I need one of those little bottles of whiskey," I told her, pulling my wallet from my pocket.
If I was going down I might as well go down in flames. "And a couple more on standby."
Time stood still on the ranch, as it always had.
While the rest of the world marched forward with progress, life in west Texas remained.
Turning the rental car down the long dirt road that led to my childhood home, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with the memories of growing up here.
Memories of Gran, of Luke and me running through the fields planning out the day's mischief, and memories of
her.
Memories that I had spent the past four years running as hard as I could to get away from suddenly were drowning me.”
I pulled up in front of the two-story yellow house that had been the only home I had ever known, lined with cheerily blinking lights and the same evergreen bough hanging from the from door that had been there every Christmas for longer than I had lived.
It looked so cheerful and welcoming, disguising the sad reason I was really home.
I turned the key in the ignition and clutched the steering wheel with both hands, knowing I needed to get out of the car and walk up those wide country steps, but unable to do so.
Regret and remorse welled up in my chest and lodged in my throat as I let my gaze sweep over the places that were burned into my memory.
Seeing Gran's wicker rocker empty cut to my core, and I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes to ward off the tears I could feel building.
"You just going to sit in that car all day or are you going to come inside?"
I started at the sound and time froze.
Monday leaned down to the open window, her honey blond hair blowing lightly in the breeze, filling the air with the clean citrus scent that had haunted my dreams.
I hated that my body turned towards her instinctively, like a flower turning towards the sunshine.
"Come on inside, Cody," she said gently, her warm golden eyes filled with concern. "You must be exhausted.
I know how much you hate flying.
Let's get you inside and get you something warm to drink."
I wanted to say something cutting, something so cruel that we would both remember that I hadn't forgiven her for running off with my best friend as soon as I left for college, but as soon as I turned to face her, the words died in my throat. I hadn't expected to feel my heart well up at the sight of her again, my arms twitching with the need to wrap around her slender form and pull her into my chest.
Four years away from here, convincing myself I was over her, and the first sight of her told me that I still loved her, that I would probably always love her.
My heart was broken and scarred, and each time it beat out the rhythm of her name it throbbed angrily, but still it couldn't heal. Not while she still held all the pieces in her delicate hands.
Unable to trust my voice, I nodded and opened the car door and climbed out.
My fingers tingled with the need to touch her, to comfort her for the pain that I knew she felt as keenly as I did at Gran's loss.
If anybody loved my Gran as much as I did, it was her.
"Monday," I whispered, the taste of her name in my mouth familiar and alien at the same time. "I—"
"I know," she interrupted me, stepping into me and draping her arms around my neck.
Before I could stop myself, my arms encircled her waist and crushed her to me, hoping that she couldn't feel my body trembling beneath her touch.
I buried my face in her hair and inhaled deeply, amazed at how much my body remembered the feel of this, of her softness against my chest.
Even though I knew she was nothing but trouble, my body cried out for her.
This was what home felt like, and no matter how I tried, I couldn't deny her.
I hated her for that.
Why couldn't I let her go?
"There you are." A familiar gravelly voice interrupted my thoughts and I stiffened, icy anger sliding down my spine.
I released Monday and stepped back, putting distance between us. I clenched my hands into fists at my side to keep from pushing her behind me and shielding her from Luke.
She wasn't mine anymore. I had to remember that, and standing before me with a broad grin like nothing had ever changed between us, like he hadn't buried a knife so deep in my back it was still lodged there, was the reason why.
"I was wondering when you were going to get in.
I wish you would have just let me pick you up at the airport."