“I have.” He lets go of my wrist abruptly, and I immediately feel the absence of his warm skin on mine. “But it is what it is. The reality is exactly what you said. You’re going to meet someone and marry him someday. And I’ll do my best to tolerate the guy.”
His jaw locks up the way it always does when he’s upset, and I know he’s baiting me. He’s been like this since we were kids. And I’ve always been a sucker for it.
“You mean the way I tolerate your multiple women?” I say too loudly as Ayden turns away to grab his lawnmower. “You drive me nuts!”
Ayden stops cold but doesn’t turn around.
He walks across my lawn and disappears inside his car.
Fighting back tears, I go inside and pull out my guitar and notepad. I can’t drink or date this kind of pain away. The only kind of outlet I can think of for this kind of pain? A good old-fashioned love song. And the lyrics are already forming on the tip of my tongue. I just have to write them down.
Ayden
It takes every ounce of strength in me to keep my back to her. Because if I turn around, I’m going to back her up against the side of her house and slam my mouth over hers.
I stalk over to my car and get in, not looking over at Bella once. My hands shake the entire way home, and when I get inside my house, I immediately turn the shower water to cold. I don’t know how to get her out of my system. I don’t even know if I want to anymore.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Bella
Over the next few days, Ayden and I try to move past what happened between us at the festival.
We don’t see each other socially once. He still brings me to my mom’s on Tuesday, but we make sure to avoid discussing our love lives. Neither of us brings up the dares, even in a joking manner. To make matters worse, I’m afflicted by the torturous game of what if.
What if Ayden’s found someone? Who is she? Is he fucking her? Does he want something serious at last?
In a strong effort to stay distracted, I keep ridiculously busy. I study my ass off, so much that I’m certain if I do nothing else between now and my final college exam, I’ll at least pass. I help my mother with her party planning; in fact, I’m so helpful that we complete her list far ahead of schedule. Except for the music, Mom’s thrilled. I find her a DJ, but she’s not satisfied. So finally, I tell her to talk to Guy about other options.
She does, and apparently she’s so swept off her feet by Guy that she asks him to perform at the party.
“Just a few songs,” he says to me. “The DJ will do the rest. And I want you to sing with me.”
I freeze as I’m walking out of the lounge. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“Because.” I turn around to face him. “My mother doesn’t like it when I sing.”
“You’ve already mentioned that,” he says. “Which is why you have to do it. Which is why you need to do it.”
“Guy…”
“Bella. Don’t let her stop you from coming all the way back.”
I tap my foot on the linoleum floor and stare at his determined gaze.
“You’re right,” I finally say. “God, you’re like the big brother I never had. Being an only child has its perks you know.”
He chuckles. “We’ll pick our selections this week and start practicing.”
I wave and head for the door. “Sounds terrifying. See you.”
The concept of singing in front of my mother has its benefits. I don’t want my father’s party to be the first time I perform in public again, so I take the leap and go to the club in Portland for an audition. The club owner hires me to sing every Thursday at six p.m., and he asks me to start that night.
So without a chance to back out, before I know it I’m up on the stage. The crowd is small—okay, really small, like ten people—but I sit on the stool, and I sing my own songs. I filter in a few popular cover songs as well, and overall, I’m cheering inside.
Because I did it.
I got back on the stage.
And yes, it feels just as terrifying and just as incredible as I thought it would.
I text Tari as soon as I’m finished, and we meet for a celebratory glass of champagne.
But while I’m happy with my return to singing, my dating situation feels dire. I’ve gone on a record number of bad blind dates for me and thanks to Tari, who seems to know an inordinate number of single guys, I could keep going on dates all summer. But I’m starting to feel hopeless.
From the accountant who asked me in the first half hour if “the shades match the drapes,” to the wrestling coach who tried to teach me to arm wrestle right at the restaurant dinner table, I’m not feeling it with any of them.
With the intensity of what happened between Ayden and me, I wasn’t necessarily expecting I’d meet my soul mate in the next week. But I was hoping to find someone to fool around with. Even if it was casual.
After every bad date, I go home and write in my bedroom. I write songs about life, about feeling stuck, and I write about Ayden.
I break things off with Trey for good. I can’t possibly go on another date with him after that double date fiasco, and ending things with him is a relief.
I fantasize constantly about Ayden blowing on me and kissing me, and yet I can’t even kiss my dates good night at the damn door when they walk me home. But it’s more than a lack of chemistry. This strange feeling of guilt comes over me every time one of my dates leans in to kiss me. Guilt like I’m freaking cheating on Ayden. All I want is to relieve my sexual tension so I can hang out with my best friend again. Instead, the tension is escalating, until I’m freaking dying for Ayden. Suddenly, it’s like no one else will do.
Despite the obvious tension between Ayden and me, when we’re at Al’s Coffee House after my mom’s on Tuesday, he asks if I’ll help his mother choose photographs for the video tribute she’s organizing for Mr. Wild’s memorial party.
Of course I say yes, and when I arrive at the Wild house the next day, I’m surprised when Ayden, wearing a t-shirt and board shorts, answers the door.
“Are you helping with the photos also?” I ask him. “I thought you’d be anywhere but here today. You’ve already helped your mom so much with the party.”
He shrugs noncommittally. “I’m just going to hang out with you and Mom while you work if that’s okay.”
“Sure.” I resist the urge I have to throw my arms around him and tell him how much I miss him. “We haven’t gotten to hang out much this week.”
“I know.” He leads me into the living room where Anna Wild greets me with a warm hug.
While Ayden takes a work call in the other room, I sit with Anna on the couch and glance at the coffee table in front of me. Photographs are covering every square surface—black and whites, candids, and portraits, all of Ayden and Michael and their parents. Some feature the boat Mr. Wild drowned on, and there are a few of the boat Michael fishes from now. A couple pictures show Ayden working, shovel and rake in hand.
“These are amazing, Anna.”
She nods, her eyes filling with pride. “Hal loved his camera. And he taught me how to use it early on, so I was able to get a lot of photos of him as well.”
Anna makes a joke about her husband’s sense of humor. “He loved to tease me with that darn camera. He’d catch me first thing in the morning when I looked a mess.”
I laugh with her, and we’re still laughing when a quick kiss lands on the top of my head.
I crane my neck and smile at Ayden standing behind me. Out of my peripheral, I catch Anna Wild beaming at us.
I scoot over. “Come sit down, Ayd.”
Anna heads for the kitchen to get us all some tea, and I impulsively grab two photographs and hold them in front of me side by side, one of Ayden landscaping, and the other of Michael holding up a huge net of fish and grinning. They look oddly symmetrical, almost like both are paying homage to their father. I’d never noticed before.
Ayden looks over my shoulder. “Michael an
d me.”
Anna walks into the room carrying a tray filled with a pot of tea, Irish scones, two teacups, cream and sugar.
I smile. “That looks amazing, Anna.”
She laughs and reaches to fix her long dark hair. Then she smooths her apron over her housedress. “One of my mother’s gifts was definitely hospitality.” She looks at the pictures in my hand. “Those two are peas in a pod, aren’t they?” she says as if reading my mind.
“You know I don’t think I ever noticed before,” I say to her. “I feel silly.”
Ayden frowns. “We’re not that similar.”
“Oh, Ayden, please. You two try to hide it with the best of them.” Anna gestures to the table. “As you can see, everything’s a bit of a mess.”
“It looks like you’ve got a lot of material.” I pick up a photograph of Ayden as a baby. “So cute.”
“And here’s one of you and him, Bella,” she says, handing it to me.
This picture is older than the one I have at home, but Ayden and I are still in our swimsuits. This time we’re at the beach. I’ve got a pail in one hand, and with my other hand, I’m dumping a shovelful of sand on Ayden’s head while he’s intently digging in the sand in front of him.
Ayden chuckles. “You were a little angel with a devilish streak.”
I laugh as I put it back on the table.
“You were always so adorable, Bella,” Anna says as she pours us each a cup of tea. “Your blond hair, those gorgeous eyes. You took my breath away.”
Ayden winks at me. “All the boys had crushes on little Bella.”
I elbow him in the ribs, and he laughs.
“Thank you, Anna. You’re so sweet to say that.” I pick up my cup and pour a touch of cream into it.
Ayden’s phone starts beeping.
“Sorry.” He looks at the screen. “My boss again. I’ll be right back.” He walks out to the balcony with his phone.
“Ayden and Michael just refuse to look at this stuff,” Anna says to me once he’s gone. “They’re both angry with me for having the party at all.”
I take a sip of my tea. “Well, everybody grieves in their own way.”
“I know, and I realize it’s not easy for them. Two boys, and their daddy gone before either of them are teenagers. They don’t see the point in dredging all the pain back up.” Anna wipes her eyes with her apron. “I just don’t want them to be numb to it is all.”
“I understand.”
She looks at me closely. “Ayden’s going to miss you something terrible when he leaves.”
I force a nod. “I’ll miss him too, of course. But we’ve been apart before. Everything will be fine.”
“I don’t know what he would do without you, Bella.” Anna shakes her head softly. “You were there for him when I couldn’t be. The way you stood out on the pier with him and held his hand, night after night, while we waited for news of my husband…” Her voice breaks. “You were just a little girl, and yet you made sure he didn’t get lost in the shuffle. I couldn’t tell you then what that meant to me, but I hope you realize how much I appreciated what you did.”
I swallow and reach out to hug her. “Of course I did,” I say. “Ayden’s held my hand my whole life too.”
And right now, I miss him. I’m right here in town with him, and I feel like we have to treat each other like strangers.
“You two are making things harder than they need to be,” Tari insists when I meet her to sunbathe.
It’s been ten days since the double date fiasco.
From my position on my stomach, I turn my head to face her. “We are?”
“Yes.” She picks up a handful of sand and we both watch as the granules slide out of her hand and fall back onto the beach. “Look at this sand leaving my hand. It’s the passage of time. Here we are at the beginning of July already, and you and Ayden are running out of days to hang out.”
“It was just…that moment between us was…”
“Relationship changing.” She nods, and I see the understanding in her face. “I know. Going from best friends to more is scary. But don’t let one moment stop you from hanging out together.”
I swallow. “Ayden’s probably out having the time of his life every night anyway. We agreed to find people to date and have sex with. I’m sure he’s having an easier time with the sex part than I am.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Tari giggles. “Peter’s as much of a steel trap when it comes to Ayden and his dates as I am about you and yours. But I overheard him on the phone with Ayden a couple of nights ago.”
“You did? What’d he say?” I prop myself up on my elbows and lean closer.
“He said, and I quote, ‘Tari won’t tell me a thing about Bella. I swear I know nothing.’”
I stare at her beaming face. “That’s it? How is that enlightening?”
Tari rolls her eyes. “Because! It means Ayden’s thinking of you. You, Bella. Not the women he’s on dates with. Get it?”
“I suppose. I just wish I could talk to him about all of this. I miss him.”
“So let’s get together tonight. The four of us, like old times, at the beach.”
I suck in a breath and blow it out slowly. “Okay. Yes.”
Ayden
“So.” Peter clicks his shot of whiskey to mine as we sit at Lucky Bay Bar. It’s still early, and the bar’s pretty much empty. “You and Bella.”
I shake my head at him in warning. “Don’t talk about Bella. Any other woman, fine. But not her.”
He laughs as he swirls his whiskey before swallowing it down. “You’re touchy this week, Ayd.”
He’s right. I can’t get Bella out of my head.
I swallow down my shot and turn to Peter. “Bella and I…it’s driving me fucking nuts,” I admit to him. “We just…” I shake my head in frustration.
“It’s you and Bella.” Peter claps me on the back. “You guys have always been a package deal. So what’s the problem? If you want to move things in a new direction…”
“It will change absolutely everything between us,” I say. “We swore on our lives we’d never go there with each other. What if we try and it blows up in our faces?”
“Or…” Peter throws some bills down on the counter and we stand up to leave. “What if you get everything you never thought possible because you were looking at all the wrong women?”
I’ve definitely been looking at the wrong women. For the past ten days, I’ve been on one date after another, all in the hopes of finding someone to take home with me so I could get out of my system—once and for all—the image of Bella, hot and bothered across from me, inside the festival tent.
Nothing’s worked. Not one woman has grabbed my attention. And it’s not their fault; it’s mine. I’ve been distracted and irritable. I’ve been a terrible date; I may be picking up the tab and walking the women to their doors, but I’m a shitty companion. I’ve kissed each one on the cheek and told them good night, and then I’ve called Peter so we can meet up for a drink.
I’ve worked so many extra hours my boss refused to let me come in this morning. And I’ve helped Ma with her party planning every free moment I have. She’s been thrilled with the extra set of hands, but even she asked me what was wrong. When I told her nothing, she just patted my cheek and told me to talk to Bella.
I miss Bella so much I even changed my schedule around so I could sit at Mom’s and sift through old photographs, all because Bella agreed to come by and help. The intoxicating scent of her hair made me jealous of all the guys she’s no doubt been going out with all week. And I can’t ask her a damn thing. Because we promised we wouldn’t, a decision I’m regretting.
I’ve jacked off to images of Bella every fucking night. Never before did I allow myself to put her into my fantasies, but now she’s the only woman in the reel.
I want her so much I can barely stay still.
I walk by her street on my way home, and my hand twitches at my side, desperate to go knock on her door.
I ache to touch her. I can hardly stop myself from going to her house, running my fingers through her long blond hair, and putting my mouth over hers. I’ve never dared to think of being with her in any permanent way, not until she said she was ready to find her plus one. That’s when a light bulb went off inside my chest—the only plus one I ever want to see her with is me.
When I went by her house to mow her lawn ten days ago, I contemplated asking her what she thought about us, about the possibility of us dating.
But the look of pain in her eyes when I brought up her parents and why we came up with our agreement in the first place—I was afraid she’d pass out from holding in her breath.
So I didn’t ask her. I could already tell the answer.
She’s not ready. And I’m not sure I am either. Not for the kind of feelings that will come up if we date. Because Bella and I would be combustible together. The one time we kissed, we were just kids, and yet it’s stuck with me all these years. Her tongue was fire, and the way her hands felt wrapped around my neck...
She got inside me with that one kiss, and she’s never left.
And I can’t imagine leaving her. The very idea of it rips my insides in half.
But right now, I need to try to fix a different problem. I have to talk to my brother and attempt to settle this issue between us once and for all.
I knock three times on the apartment door over my parents’ garage. Just when I’m starting to worry that he never came home, my older brother jerks open the door.
We stare at each other for a few seconds before he lets out a groan and gestures me inside.
“I’m not changing my mind,” he says immediately.
I put up my hands in surrender. “Truce, Michael. I’m not here to fight. But I do need you to agree to take the money I’ll be sending back once I move. I don’t want Ma feeling caught in the middle of our war.”
He’s already shaking his head. “No fucking way. I’ll find a way to pay Ma’s mortgage for her. I live with her, not you. You got the job out west—good for you. Use the money for yourself.”
“You’re so goddamn stubborn,” I tell him.
Ayden Page 11
