Afraid to look back at her and see the damage I’ve done—was doing—right this moment, I was holding on to her. Like a child clinging to his favorite blanket for just a little too long until it was time to let go. I inhaled her sweet scent one last time, trying to capture this feeling so it would last me some time, and released her. She refused to let pain pass through her defenses, but her eyes... they betrayed her. They held the truth she wouldn’t say, and it tore me apart. Her stunning smile was holding everything together, trying to protect those around her, carrying all her pain inside to spare me discomfort.
ME!
“Hazel, if something... happens. If you ever need help, please call me.” If something were to happen to her... my jaw clenched in silent frustration. “Just ask me.”
The last part just slipped out. I felt like the biggest douchebag.
Just ask me.After I told her I—
“Just remember,” she said, her voice crumpling at the edges, “your heart deserves to breathe, too.”
I froze. Every muscle, every tiny little cell in my body locked around the breath inside me, refusing to let me inhale. Because I didn’t deserve it. I hadn’t earned this. I hadn’t earned her kind words, her compassion. Her love.
“Take care, Luke,” she said, kissing my cheek before quickly turning to hide her watery eyes. Hazel walked away, leaving me utterly alone and empty among hundreds of people. Unable to face the chaos I’d caused, but too proud to break down like a schoolgirl, I compromised by closing my eyes and touching the spot on my cheek where she had just kissed me.
I was breaking her, and yet I was the one standing in the crowded airport.
Broken and completely alone.
2
Luke
Five weeks ago...
The sun woke me, shining right into my face through the window. At first, I wondered where the hell a window this close to my bed had come from, but then I remembered.
Oh, right. I’m not home. I’m at Vanessa’s.
I opened my eyes, still battling the sun blinding me on a Sunday morning. I stretched, slipped out of bed without waking the long-legged goddess beside me, and headed straight to the bathroom. My bladder was killing me—probably from those whiskey sours I had yesterday.
I wasn’t staying long, though. Vanessa and I hooked up occasionally, so I knew my way around the apartment.
As ridiculous as it sounded, the world was my oyster, full of incredible, sexy women, but I couldn’t deny the comfort of hooking up with someone I knew, who didn’t expect anything more from me. And Vanessa, a med student, was exactly that. She wasn’t looking for a relationship, nor did she have time for one. We got along just fine.
My head was pounding. I needed coffee fast. I didn’t usually drink that much, but last night’s celebration was too much, so a hangover was inevitable.
Alex finally got the promotion. He’d been busting his ass since landing the marketing job, and now his boss was retiring, leaving the position open for him. I didn’t want to think about where his head was this morning or what he was doing to recover from the shots he’d downed so enthusiastically. I made a mental note to check in with Ava to make sure he was still alive.
As I tried to piece together yesterday’s memories, two hands wrapped around me from behind, pulling me out of my thoughts. I instinctively stopped them, gently untangling myself. Suddenly, I became acutely aware that the night had ended, and I needed space. I glanced at Vanessa, offering her a polite smile.
“Good morning,” I said, releasing her hands and stepping to the other side of the counter to get my coffee.
“Morning!” Vanessa replied cheerfully, looking in much better shape than I expected, considering how much she drank last night.
“How are you so energetic this morning?” I asked, genuinely surprised by her cheerful mood.
“I always drink water between drinks. Besides, who wants to have sex with a corpse?” she said sarcastically. That’s a good point.
“Last night was fun, as always,” I replied, almost following the usual script I played out, trying to make them feel good. But I remembered—Vanessa wasn’t one of those girls. She didn’t need the sweet talk, and I didn’t have to pretend. It was comforting, in a way.
“Do you have cinnamon?” I asked, scanning the cabinets.
“No, sorry! Still haven’t restocked since the last time you were here,” she replied almost coldly. I exhaled heavily, already knowing I’d need another cup of coffee once I left. Should I buy some, along with better coffee, for next time? Hers was disgusting. How could I even bring that stuff here without looking like some creep packing his own supplies? Like a wannabe boyfriend with a toothbrush.
No, you’ll survive.
As I gulped down the bland coffee, I watched her hop up and sit on the kitchen counter, letting her long, slender legs hang over the edge. Yes, Vanessa was hot, but it was the kind of hotness you’d see on magazine covers. Her face said it all—youcould imagine the rest of her body without a second thought. No surprises, so to speak. Not that it was a bad thing. I got what I asked for.
