Chapter Five

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5/11/15

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5/11/15

CALE AND I WALK out the front door, his truck immediately catching my attention.

I hate the way my body tingles and warms at the sight of it, memories crashing down on me. "I can drive," he offers as he starts towards his car.

"No," I shoot out right away. Like hell I will ever step foot back in that stupid truck. I can't face those memories right now. Or maybe ever.

He pauses and flips to meet me. "It's no problem come on Gray, I can drive," he pushes.

I shake my head with my eyes narrowed in on his stupid truck. I lick my lips, "Fine then we can drive separately. But I am driving my car Cale." I open my car door about to get in when I add, "And how many times do I need to tell you to not call me Gray?" I slam the door behind me as I start the car.

I roll the windows down and turn the radio to a country station. There aren't many radio stations here. Pop, country, christen, and some oldies. The occasional alternative song will slip on that's three years old, but the hosts will claim is new. I sigh annoyed at this whole situation. I don't know how to be around him let alone go shopping with him for the day. It actually pains me to be around him, and it pains me even more to see him with my sister. They both look so happy. When was the last time I was happy?

I look at the rearview mirror to see him still standing there before he grumbles something and regretfully walks to my car. He slides into the passengers seat without a word. I pull out of the driveway and onto the street. The wind blowing through the windows and brushing my skin ever so lightly, I love this feeling.

I stop at a stoplight when I look over at Cale. He's staring straight ahead, but I know he can feel my stare. It hurts. Looking at him hurts. He's still so beautiful, and I know I shouldn't refer to men as beautiful, but he just is. He's rugged and sexy and beautiful. I can't deny it, and he's so aged well over the years. Cale isn't just a stupid teen anymore. He's twenty-three now. His hair is still its crazy mess that I have always loved. But his eyes are wiser, his body bigger, his jawline littered with scruff that makes my stomach dip. He's older, so much older, and yet at the same time he is still the same Cale from all those summers ago.

"I will never get in your truck ever again," I say. The light turns green and I pull forward and turn left through the intersection.

He doesn't answer for a while. Which I don't mind, I honestly don't need an answer. He just has to know, he has to know that I will never get in that truck and not think about the kisses, the touches, and the nights where he held me. The thoughts would consume me, and it hurt that those memories will always haunt me.

I hear him take a breath before saying, "Are you ever going to get over that summer?" His voice is a little hard.

I flinch at the edge in his voice, tears rising to the back of my eyes. Shit, I hate getting emotional, and especially over someone like him. "It's hard to get over something that completely broke you," I state simply. And it's the truth. It may have been four years, but he the hurt he inflicted will always be with me. The first cut is the deepest they say.

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