Rebound Roommate

by Jules Barnard

  My shoulders tense. I look in the direction I came from. “Was it them, the woman and that man at the cabin? Did they do this to you?”

  “No. It wasn’t them.”

  But her omission implies it was someone. She didn’t just fall. “Then let’s go there. The nearest road is a mile and a half away.”

  “My mom—she won’t…Forget it.” Mira shifts from me and rolls to her knees. “I’ll walk back.” She stands upright, swaying like a boat on the ocean.

  I grab her elbow. “Mira, you can barely stand.”

  I could ignore her protests and take her to the cabin, but she needs medical attention, and I doubt that cabin has anything in the way of an emergency kit.

  Fine, we’ll do things Mira’s way. For now.

  I place my arms beneath her back and knees and pick her up. Her eyes widen, her gaze running up my neck toward my mouth, where it lingers for an instant.

  Which is long enough to scatter my senses.

  Jesus, how can this girl still affect me? I’m over her. Was over her years ago.

  She focuses on my eyes. “Now what?”

  I haven’t moved. I’m holding Mira in my arms, convincing myself that what I once felt for her is gone.

  I really should have chosen a different town to hunker down in for a few months. This place brings back too many unwanted memories.

  I step forward, feigning confidence I don’t have. “We get on my bike and ride to my car.”

  Her eyes search for my Diamondback, propped against the tree. “Both of us?”

  I glare down to snap a retort about our options, because I’m in a piss-poor mood, but I lock on her beautiful face and lose focus. She’s injured, and I’m mad for reasons I can’t explain and worried about her at the same time, when I should feel nothing but eager to get her back to her friends.

  I give my head a mental shake. “Why don’t you stop talking, conserve your energy?”

  Her mouth pinches as if she sees through to the insult. “Set me down, Tyler. I don’t want you holding me.” Her pale cheeks, which are normally a golden brown, darken even in this shitty light.

  “Nope.” I hike her higher.

  My demeanor is cool, as though I have everything under control, but I’m concerned about how this will work. Riding two-man goes more smoothly when one of the individuals isn’t incapacitated.

  I reach for the bike while balancing her in my arms. “Can you hold on to the back of my neck?”

  She peers at me skeptically.

  “Mira, I’m trying to help you. Throw me a bone so I can dump your ass—I mean—deposit you with Lewis.”

  She rolls her eyes, but her arms go up past my shoulders, gripping me surprisingly tightly given her condition. She rests her head below my chin and her mouth brushes the skin of my neck in what feels like a light nuzzle…

  I nearly lose my grip on the bike.

  “Mouth off.” I’m not sure if the lip graze was intentional or not, but I don’t goddamn care. I can’t do this if she puts her lips on me. My head is messed up enough without Mira screwing with it.

  A heavy sigh warms the flesh her lips taunt. She lifts her head and tilts it back, her caramel eyes melting my rage a degree. “You can stop hating me, Tyler.”

  I don’t answer. I have nothing to say.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she says. “And you—”

  “If this is about things that happened back in high school, I barely remember it. Spare me your apology and remain still so I can get us out of here.”

  She huffs out an annoyed sigh.

  Still sassy. Nothing’s changed. That’s the problem. Too many things are the same.

  I shift her in my arms and sit on my bike, supporting her weight with one arm and holding on to the handlebar with the other.

  Progress is slow, but we make it to my Land Cruiser without me dropping her or crashing into a tree. Mira is slender, but my arms burn after navigating the bike through a mile and a half of bumpy terrain.

  I ease her off my lap and steady her on her feet. She wobbles, and I’m concerned about the head wound. I help her to the car and open the passenger door.

  The interior light reveals a red and purple smudge on her cheek—featuring a distinct handprint.

  I grip the doorframe, a rush of heat rising from my chest, flaming my face. Mira definitely didn’t fall in the woods. And for some reason, the thought of someone hurting her makes me extremely angry. “You wanna tell me about it?” I gesture to her face and the cut on her head.

  She scoots onto the cracked seat cushions I’ve never paid attention to until now. The jagged edges of the upholstery scrape the exposed flesh where her jacket is torn. She tilts her head against the headrest, her gaze flickering to me, then out the window. She doesn’t say anything.

  I was a dick earlier. Of course she’s not going to tell me what happened. I lean in and click the belt across her lap. I shut the passenger door and round the front of the Cruiser. I shoot a text to Lewis that I’ve found her, then climb in the driver’s side.

  “Sorry about back there,” I say, squeezing the steering wheel. “And what I said. It was a long time ago. I’m just—I’m in a bad mood. Don’t mind me.” I insert the key and start the engine. “I’ll get you someplace safe. You can tell Lewis what happened. He’s really worried.”

  “But not you,” she says to the window in a voice I can’t read. Her stoic expression gives nothing away. No more high emotion from Mira. That moment has passed.

  I stare at the side of her smooth cheekbone, the curve of her full lips. Mira is both classically beautiful and exotic-looking. Add long, dark-brown hair, beautiful eyes, and creamy skin, and the girl makes an entrance. But that’s not what drew me years ago.

  Well, okay, of course it did. But if that were all, I’d have been fine to love her and leave her. No matter what I tell myself, it hurt to discover I meant nothing to her. Because at the time, she meant everything to me.

  Mira is wrong. I am worried. I’ll always worry about her, no matter how many years pass.

  It’s my curse.

  Chapter Five

  Mira

  Tyler pulls up to a small cabin a few blocks off of Stateline Boulevard, near the lake. I’ve been here before with Lewis. Several cars line the driveway.

  Great. Just what I need, an audience to witness the shit that is my life.

  I cradle my ribs, unlatch the seatbelt, and reach for the door handle, battening down the cracks that running into Tyler have made in my emotional armor.

  I don’t know how he found me, but seeing his pale blue eyes peering down was like being thrown a lifeline. A déjà vu of the hero from my past.

  All the feelings for Tyler that I keep locked away crept to the surface. He smelled so good, and his arms around me were like coming home. I couldn’t help myself. I pressed my nose to the crook of his neck to get closer.

  And he snapped at me.

  He thinks I didn’t care about him in high school, and that I used him. I didn’t, but like he said, it was a long time ago, and the past has a way of shaping people.

  “This is my sister’s place,” he says, and wraps his large hand around my upper arm as we make our way to the front door. “We were hanging out when Lewis got the call from his dad that you were missing. We split up to search for you. I texted Lewis that I found you and would bring you here.”

  I was supposed to swing by Lewis’s parents’ house after I got off work early tonight, but I received an emergency call from my mom. She sounded frantic and asked me to meet her at the cabin with cash. She wouldn’t explain to me over the phone why she needed it, but the last time this happened, her life was in danger. I couldn’t risk it. I went to her.

  I thought I could make a quick trip to my mom’s, drop off the cash, and be back in time to meet Lewis’s parents. A tad late, but not never-show-up late. Lewis’s parents would have worried when I didn’t arrive. I’ve gotten into a few scrapes over the years because of my mom. If I don’t
show up after a couple of hours, John and Becky send out the search dogs.

  I’ve been telling myself that this is it, no more money for my mom, but I haven’t stuck to that decision. After tonight, I can’t risk it anymore. One more scrape like the one in the woods, and…I don’t want to think about how bad things could have been.

  Tyler pauses at the front door, his strong hand moving from my arm to my lower back. He’s been kind for someone who owes me nothing, and likes me even less. He turns the knob and nudges the sticky front door open with his shoulder.

  Lewis is pacing the tiny living room like a restless bear. He stops as we enter.

  “Mira.” He takes two long strides and embraces me in a hug that squeezes my sore ribs.

  “Ouch,” I mumble into his ginormous chest.

  Tyler is a tall, athletic guy, but Lewis—and Cali’s boyfriend, Jaeger, who’s a part of my audience tonight—is supersized.

  Lewis looks down and gently brushes aside the hair at my temple, examining the bruise on my face, then the cut on my head and ear. His mouth compresses. “What happened? Where have you been?”

  Everyone’s watching, waiting for my answer. Tyler, his sister Cali and her boyfriend, Lewis’s girlfriend Gen. I don’t want to discuss my personal life around all of them, but I have to say something. “A couple of men jumped me.”

  Lewis’s eyes darken, more than they already are, turning the deep brown raven.

  “Probably has something to do with—you know—that problem,” I murmur.

  I hate lying to Lewis, but if he knew I owe the money because of my mom, I’m not sure what he’d do. The life my mom leads drags both of us down. Lewis has been pushing me to sever the tie with her. I don’t like the shit my mom pulls, but she’s my mom. Lewis wants me healthy, but he’s scaring me with his conditions, driving every anxiety over abandonment I possess to the surface.

  One of my worst fears is that Lewis will leave me if I can’t walk away from my mom. He’s been my family for years, but insecurities run deep. Which is why I haven’t told Lewis the real reason I owe the money.

  The Sallees held an intervention and insisted I see a therapist when I told them I’d gambled away months of rent and borrowed from a loan shark. Not the most ideal of excuses, considering I work in a casino, but it was the best I could come up with at the time. I visit a therapist regularly per the Sallees’ request, but the therapist knows the real reason I’m in debt. She’s helping me with my mom issues.

  The Sallees wanted me to quit my job at the casino, which is understandable, but it’s been my livelihood since I graduated. It’s all I know. I promised to work through my problems with the therapist and never gamble again. I also promised I’d stop going to my mom’s place because the people she hangs with aren’t safe.

  Tyler caught me red-handed, on my way to my mom’s. Pretty soon, he’ll tell Lewis where I was, and Lewis will know I broke one of my promises.

  Gen grabs my hand, and I start. Her brow furrows in concern, but she doesn’t let go. “It’s okay, Mira. I just want to look at your wounds.”

  Gen and Cali lead me into the bathroom, and Cali locks the door behind us.

  One person inside their closet of a bathroom barely fits. Three people leaves Cali straddling the edge of the tub, and me forced to sit on the toilet lid to make space.

  Cali reaches across to the medicine cabinet—at the same time Gen rises from below the sink, knocking into her arm. “Quit it, Cali. I’m trying to get a towel.”

  “Well, I’m trying to grab the first-aid kit,” Cali says.

  They swat at each other for a second. Then Cali elbows Gen. Gen fakes a move, and reaches around Cali for the cabinet.

  I’ve never had a sister, or close female friends. Watching Gen and Cali is like seeing inside a mysterious club. I’ve also never had friends, besides Lewis and Zach, worry over me.

  There’s that warmth inside my chest again, like in the woods, when I thought my mom was calling for me. I press my arm to my ribs. All this therapy is making me soft.

  “Got ’em,” Gen says triumphantly, holding up the first-aid kit along with the towel.

  “Maybe we should take her to the ER, or Urgent Care?” Cali says, scanning me from head to toe.

  Gen sets the towel across my lap and looks me over. “She’s moving okay, but yeah, the blood on her head doesn’t look good. What if her brain is swelling?”

  My what?

  “We’ll clean her up,” Cali says, “then get her to a doctor. I’ll grab clothes. Unless you think we should call nine-one-one? Should she stay in her clothes for the police? Do they need that for evidence?”

  Okay, maybe these girls are insane. Funny, but insane. I’m beginning to feel sympathy for Lewis.

  A knock sounds at the bathroom door.

  “Just a minute,” Cali and Gen shout at the same time.

  “No,” I answer their earlier question. “No nine-one-one. I’ll be fine. I don’t need a doctor.”

  They exchange a look. “Clothes, then ER,” Cali says, and stumbles out the door, slamming it shut behind her. But not before heated voices from the other room drift in.

  The guys are arguing?

  Gen pulls out antiseptic and gently wipes the cuts on my palms, drawing my gaze from the door to the burning in my hands, which took a beating when the man tackled me to the ground.

  I close my eyes against the frightening memory, sensing a tug as Gen eases off my jacket and lifts my shirt. She touches my ribs.

  “Um, oww?”

  “You were cradling your side a moment ago. This hurts?” She touches the spot again, more gently.

  I nod. It hurts, but I was cradling my chest in part because of the warmth of their kindness.

  Cali bursts into the bathroom, slamming the door against Gen’s back.

  “Son of a bitch, Cali.” Gen glances over her shoulder, her face scrunched in annoyance.

  “What?” Cali shrugs. “Sorry.”

  Gen lowers my shirt. “Her ribs look bruised. She might have broken one.”

  “And there’s a footprint on her back,” Cali adds dryly from her angle near the door.

  Gen shakes her head, her lips compressed as she lets out a pained sigh through her nose. “Mira, who did this to you?”

  I slip on my torn jacket and pull it around me. “I told you. Probably the man I owe money to.”

  “For the gambling?”

  I nod, hesitantly. I don’t like lying. It makes me feel dirty. Low. I don’t want to be that person.

  Gen has been kind since I showed up tonight. Kinder than I deserve after I snarled at her the first couple of weeks she dated Lewis. It was a jerk thing to do and I’m ashamed of it. Lying to her makes me feel worse.

  After I reluctantly agree to remove my jacket and shirt, Cali and Gen wipe more grime from my face and arms. Cali helps me pull on the clean sweatshirt she retrieved, because raising my arms is tantamount to torture with my ribs hurting the way they do. She bundles my torn clothes in a bag.

  The next knock that comes is more insistent. “Mira? You okay?” Lewis asks, his voice gruff.

  “I’m fine,” I call out.

  “We’d better get her to the doctor,” Cali says, and opens the door.

  “I don’t need a doctor,” I reply as we emerge into the living room. The guys’ heated voices die. Everyone’s attention turns to me.

  Except for Tyler. He’s seated with his forehead propped on clasped hands, his gaze focused on the ground.

  I swallow, my throat burning.

  Tyler will never look at me the way he did before I ruined our friendship.

  Here I am, my life dissolving before my eyes, proof that he and I come from two different worlds and were never meant to be together. That moment we shared six years ago, I stole out of selfishness because I wanted him. Now I’m paying the price for taking what was never meant to be mine.

  Because the way I still feel for him and the way his eyes avoid me hurts worse than any physical injuries
I suffered tonight.

  Chapter Six

  Tyler

  “Why would she return to that place?” Lewis shakes his head. “Her mother—” He utters an oath and growls in frustration. “Never mind. I can’t get Mira to see reason where her mom is concerned.”

  Lewis takes two steps, then turns and strides in the opposite direction.

  Cali’s chalet, as she refers to her dinky cabin rental, isn’t ideal for pacing. Not for a guy Lewis’s size. I’m larger than average at six foot two, but Gen’s new boyfriend and my buddy Jaeg are so tall, they make me look like a little guy.

  “How did you know where to find her?”

  I’m sitting on the edge of the recliner, my hands dangling between my knees as Jaeg and Lewis discuss the situation. They seem surprised Mira is in trouble, but either Lewis isn’t very bright—which I know isn’t true, since he was valedictorian the year we graduated from high school—or Mira has him fooled. It takes me a minute to realize Lewis addressed me.

  I clear my throat. “I saw her. A couple of weeks ago. I was riding on an isolated trail and found a cabin that looked like it had been abandoned. Mira was sitting on the porch.”

  “Her mother was there?” Lewis asks.

  I nod. “Mira said it was her mom’s cabin. I saw a woman there tonight along with some guy. Not sure if Mira made it to the place, or if she was on her way back when…” I unclench the hands I’m fisting. “I don’t know what happened, man. Mira wouldn’t talk to me.”

  Nothing has changed between Mira and me. Our relationship was reduced to avoidance those last few weeks before I graduated. I burned up the trails on my bike until I could leave Lake Tahoe and forget about Mira Frasier. But not before I took Holly Walker up on her offer.

  I went to prom with Holly and slept with her. I was so drunk I barely remember it. It was one of the worst nights of my life. I puked my guts out the next day from the alcohol—and from what I’d done.