"It's not going to be easy," Keaton says. "You need to be one hundred percent sure you got it in you to be the man she needs in her life. Because this fight is going to be a long one to heal the trauma you've caused her. There are so many facets to your relationship and to her, hell, even to yourself, that you're going to have to heal."
"Whatever the fuck it takes. I'm in this. All the way for the rest of my life. Just point me in the right direction, and I'll take it from there because I'm lost as fuck here," I plead quietly.
"We'll help give you a starting point, but Alek, the rest, all the rest, is on you," Charlie says.
"Wouldn't have it any other way. I'm the one that fucked up, I'm the one who puts in the work. Let's just hope my beautiful girl gives me the chance to make it right."
It’s been ages since I had a real fight. Probably not since Keaton. But I’m ready for another, especially if it means Hayvin ends up in my arms.
Ready or not, baby girl, I’m coming for you.
Well, Hello, Mr. Fighter Pilot
Hayvin
Dayslater,thatridiculousshowdown with Alek keeps looping in my mind like a broken record. I replay it from every possible angle, searching for hidden clues I might have missed. But I always get stuck on the image of him standing there with Jerica. Especially if what he told me before I walked away was actually true.
Everything circles back to Alek. I know that much. As for Jerica, she’s still a mystery to me. I have no idea what she thinks of me or what she really knows about my history with Alek. We only crossed paths twice while Alek and I were together, so she’s definitely aware we were a thing. Beyond that, her side of the story is a complete blank.
I always assumed that if she was as much his best friend as David, she’d try to make friends with me. That’s what Charlie did. It was only about three months into mine and Alek’s relationship when she finally marched up to me and told me we needed to talk. I was leery at first. I had met Charlie, Keaton,and Amelia a few times because Charlie was one of Alek’s best friends. He was straight up with me about their previous relationship as soon as we got together, but reassured me it was over and done with. I believed him because Charlie was the only person who mattered to Keaton. She loves him deeply, but I know, from their stories, it wasn’t without a lot of bleak agony. I looked for signs of a romantic relationship between Charlie and Alek for a few months, but only found a deep mutual respect and a strong friendship. They’ve never looked at each other as if they’ve been intimate. They’ve never told each other they loved one another, though I know they care, and they’ve never made me or Keaton feel excluded from their friendship.
I made an effort with Jerica. I wanted to be her friend, hoping it would ease the discomfort I felt with the relationship between her and the guy I was dating. But she never really let me in. She wasn’t rude, just distant. Only offering polite smiles and empty small talk. It was nothing like the easy connections I’d had with everyone else.
I sigh, running my hand through my hair and tossing my pencil down on my notepad.
Or maybe I was the one who couldn’t open up. I honestly don’t know anymore. Still, I can’t shake the feeling that she should have put in more effort. If I had a guy best friend who found someone serious, I’d go out of my way to welcome her. My friends’ happiness has always been my own.
I glare at the blank page that should be brimming with lyrics, frustration tightening its grip on me. With a low growl, I rip the scribbled sheet from my notebook, crumple it, and hurl it at the fireplace.
I haven’t been able to write a damn thing since I finished Not Your Just Because, and it’s driving me up the wall. The other night, I got a generous offer for it and, after wrestling with my heart, finally decided to let it go. Now I’m desperate forsomething new to fill that void, but inspiration refuses to show up.
“Thank god,” I mutter when my doorbell rings.
I leap from my chair and rush to the living room. As long as it isn’t Alek, I honestly don’t care who’s at the door. Whoever it is, they’re rescuing me from my own spiraling thoughts.
Next time, I should probably check who’s there first. If I had, maybe I wouldn’t have staggered back, floored by the jolt of surprise that hit me when I opened the door.
“Tan?” I gasp, staring incredulously at the handsome man in front of me.
It’s been years since I last saw him, and he’s transformed. My gaze sweeps over him. He’s fully grown now. His dirty blond hair and beard are both in that in-between stage, proof he’s been on leave far longer than his sister guessed. His striking denim blue eyes are shadowed with secrets, the kind that leave scars no one else will ever see.
“Hey there, love bug,” he says, aiming that charming fucking smile at me that caught my ass back in our younger days.
A faint tingle stirs inside me, but it’s nothing like before, and nowhere near the sparks Alek used to ignite.
“Well, hello, mister fighter pilot,” I say with a smile, opening my door wider in invitation.
Is inviting an ex I once loved into my home a terrible idea? Of course. Does it bother me? Not in the slightest. I only answer to myself now, and I’m not crossing any lines. The attraction is still there, sure—I felt it spark the second I opened the door—but after all these years, it’s faded to a faint ember. Nothing that would even tempt me if I were still in a relationship.
I can’t resist letting my eyes roam over him, noticing the new tattoos and the muscle he’s built since I last saw him.
He strolls past, tracing his finger down my nose in that old, familiar way. I close my eyes, swept back to a time when everything felt simpler.
Luckily, I open my eyes just in time to catch the way his jeans hug him, because missing that would be a tragedy.
“I can feel your eyes on my ass, love bug,” he teases.
Shit.
