Hearts on Fire: Romance Multi-Author Box Set Anthology

by Violet Vaughn

  I cupped his cheek. “So, you fucked it up on purpose?”

  He turned his head away from me, looked at everything but me.

  “I see.” I stood, wet the cloth some more and then drew it to the back of his neck and up on his forehead again.

  “I wanted to prove to myself that I could survive it.”

  “I was with you until that part, slugger.” My voice was a whisper. “You can survive anything.”

  His fingers circled my wrist. “Not losing you. I can’t.” His exhale deflated him. “I don’t want to.”

  “So what did you do, Kieran?”

  He didn’t speak.

  “You told me you were going to take that client. If all you did was what you said you were going to do, I can’t fault you for that.”

  He cut a sharp glance in my direction.

  “I didn’t say I could live with the arrangement and be with you, but I won’t fault you for your honesty.”

  “It wasn’t her.”

  “But you did sleep with someone else.” Each word was a bullet. “I don’t need you to tell me anymore.”

  “Please.”

  “Please what? Please take your confession like I’m your priest? Please forgive you? Please what?” I hissed and dropped the cloth.

  “Take my confession. Absolve me of my sins. Forgive me.”

  “Your sins are your own and I don’t want to hear it. You can wear that weight alone. I don’t want to know. In fact, I need not to. I don’t want to see a picture of her, I don’t want to imagine what it was like—the two of you together. What you were thinking about her, if you thought about me, if I matter to you. If I’m as pretty as she is. If she’s skinny and if that’s why you wanted to fuck her instead of me. No, I don’t want it.”

  Even though I already knew that it was April he’d been with. If he didn’t speak it aloud, I could pretend it wasn’t true. It was still all circumstantial until it spewed out of his mouth like that gallon of rye he’d drank and the stench would hang in the air just the same.

  I hated her in that moment. I hated her so much I could taste it like the coppery tang of blood on my tongue.

  “I don’t want it either and it’s rotten, Claire. Rotten and sour.”

  “Whatever you did isn’t something that happened to you. It’s something that you did all on your own. You did it, you chose to do it. No one had a gun to your head.”

  “You did.”

  I snorted. “What are you talking about?

  “Losing you. It was the gun to my head and I just pulled the trigger.”

  “You’re so full of shit you can’t even smell it anymore.” I fled back to my room and if I was smelling my own bullshit, I’d admit that I wanted him to chase me.

  I wanted him to say that he was sorry, it had all been a lie, some kind of test—and I guessed it was a test.

  April would say he just needed to be saved. He needed to be loved no matter what.

  I did love him. I wouldn’t stop loving him.

  But could I live with him banging other women every time he felt the least bit insecure so he could test me?

  No. I couldn’t.

  The distance that had started as a small fracture had been like the dancing of tectonic plates. There wasn’t just a small creek between us now, it was a glacial gorge. There’d be no shoving us back together.

  I shook my head at the train of my thoughts. That was overdramatic and theatrical. Adults weren’t supposed to behave that way, but I wasn’t feeling much like an adult. This growing up business was bullshit.

  I never thought I would miss being a kid. I couldn’t wait to grow up because when I grew up, I was going to do “all the things.” At least, that’s what I told myself while I was watching cartoons. I was going to be beautiful and rich, I was going to have a great job, and I was never, ever going to treat my kids the way my mother treated me.

  I was going to have babies and I was going to love them so much that they couldn’t help but know they were amazing. And I’d never make them write down what they ate on a piece of paper, I’d never judge them for what they put in their mouths or how much.

  A memory of a forgotten Sunday dinner washed over me—all the long hours in the kitchen with my mother. All the delicious things laid out to tease and tantalize, and I could have none of it.

  It was all for some new man she’d met and she was afraid that he wouldn’t want her if he knew she had a fat daughter. I wasn’t allowed to eat for two days, fasting, she’d said. As if three days of only drinking water would make up for eating only macaroni breakfast, lunch and dinner for weeks on end so she could afford to have cigarettes, pedicures and get her hair done.

  And as if having a fat daughter was worse than being one of those women who couldn’t define herself without a man.

  I remembered the way my mother always smelled of that Dollar Store perfume and in that moment, I almost missed her.

  Because it would be her voice in my head telling me if I could just lose some weight, life would be so much better. It was easier to hear it in her voice than my own.

  Her voice I could ignore.

  But I supposed it really was her voice—it had taken up residence in my body like a parasite, suckling all the joy out of everything like marrow from my bones. The worst part was that I’d let it and I didn’t know how to make it stop.

  14

  I couldn’t avoid April forever, even though I wanted to. I didn’t understand why she couldn’t just leave it alone. I was done.

  It wasn’t just the night previous that had made that decision for me, I think it was a long time coming and when I realized that her voice was so much like my mother’s, I knew it was time to cut her loose. I’d already had that in my life once before and it hadn’t done anything for me.

  She called several more times until she finally texted to say that she was coming over.

  It was tempting to hide in my bedroom and rot.

  She didn’t have a key and I doubted that Kieran would be letting her in any time soon.

  The very idea of her being in my house made me sick. Maybe Kieran and I weren’t together, but as selfish as it was, I couldn’t have it: Her. Him. In my house. Together.

  Again.

  I was sure that the gentle tap on my window was her.

  If she tapped it again, I’d answer it. But if she was content to let it go with one tap, so was I. It would be a relief to let the friendship die quietly, rather than with an explosion.

  The bitch tapped again.

  Damn her.

  I opened the window. “I would have thought the whole not answering your calls or texts might have been a pretty good indicator that I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “I have some things I need to say to you.”

  Her face was puffy from crying. She looked bad and rather than having any empathy for her like I should have, all I could feel was a certain sense of grim satisfaction. “Because it’s all about what you need to do, right?”

  “Claire—”

  “No. Fuck you, April. We’re done.”

  “Over a guy? Are you kidding me?”

  “I could say the same to you. I’m sorry you got your feelings hurt. But fucking Kieran now, after you knew we were together? Yeah, whatever.”

  She looked like I’d slapped her. “He told you?”

  “Of course he told me. He tells me everything. He always has.”

  “I bet he didn’t mention the part where he couldn’t keep it up because all he could do was say your name and snivel in his whiskey.”

  “Well, look at that.” I cocked my head to the side. “I guess you were wrong.”

  “About what?”

  “About it always being about who was thinner? I guess it’s not.”

  “Yeah, and I guess you’re having a grand old time saying ‘I told you so’.”

  “Of course I am. You would too if you were me.”

  “I’d never let myself be you.” Her lip curled in disgust.


  “Let yourself? You couldn’t hack it in my skin, sweetheart.” I nodded. “So whatever you think you have to say, I don’t want to hear it because I don’t care. So go back to your tower on high and fuck yourself while you’re at it.”

  “Maybe I’m here to see Kieran too.”

  “And maybe you can take him with you because you won’t be seeing him in my house.”

  “He can have guests.”

  “Not you.” Christ, I knew it was petty, but at the moment, the one thing I could control was access to my own property.

  “That’s pathetic.”

  “You can paint it up in any whore’s makeup you like, but after it all washes off, the answer is still the same.”

  “What do you think he would have to say about it?”

  “That’s what you keep missing, April. He doesn’t get to say anything about it.”

  “It’s sad you’d use the roof over his head to keep him.”

  I wasn’t trying to keep him at all. I wasn’t forcing him to do anything. “What’s sad is that you still think I care about your opinion. Why don’t you go think about why it was he couldn’t keep his dick hard for you? You know that old adage it’s not you, it’s me? Well, it’s not. It really is you.”

  I slammed the window closed and the blinds fell back into place.

  It was a strange brew of emotion left for me. I was heartsick, but there was a manic kind of joy too.

  Until Kieran opened the door to my room.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  At first, I thought that was a stupid question, but since I’d decided to lie about the answer, I guess it wasn’t after all. “I’m fine.”

  “I heard you yelling.” He peered around the room, as if someone was going to pop out from under the bed.

  “That would have been April telling me how sad and pathetic I am.” I nodded slowly.

  He looked like refried shit. The bags under his eyes, the exhaustion written on his face, and deep pools of sadness in his eyes.

  In that second, I wanted to forgive him anything and everything. I couldn’t stand to see him looking so broken and lost.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, eyes closed, as if he couldn’t stand to look at me.

  “Me too.” I nodded.

  “What did you do?”

  “I threw away our friendship.”

  “Are we so broken we can’t be fixed?”

  I studied him again and this time, he met my regard. This wasn’t the same man who’d told me on the night of April’s birthday how I deserved to be happy, how I should give Brant a chance… That was the Kieran I was in love with. This guy was someone different. He wasn’t the Kieran I knew and he wasn’t Finn McCool either.

  “Why can’t we just say April was my Brant and start over?”

  Again, there was part of me that surrendered to this idea. That it would be okay if I could just forget about it—this was the happily ever after I wanted and the only thing standing in the way was the evil stepsister who tricked the prince.

  But no one tricked him into anything.

  “If you’ll remember, I wasn’t your girlfriend when I slept with Brant. In fact, you set us up.”

  “It cut me just the same.”

  “So every time you’re hurt, this is what I can expect from you?”

  “April told me that you were the reason I could never have a relationship because I was already in one with you.”

  “What does that even mean?” I cried.

  “It means that none of the women I’ve been with in the last five years have mattered a damn to me except you.”

  It disgusted me that his statement made me feel special. It shouldn’t have. It wasn’t a compliment. “So April’s the great sage now? Fine. You know what else she said? At the beginning of any relationship, things are the best they’re ever going to be. So if this is the best it can be, it’s not worth it for either of us.”

  “Claire—”

  “No. Look, I love you. That’s never been in doubt.” It felt good to say it. “But you didn’t trust me not to hurt you and now I don’t trust you not to hurt me.” I straightened and lifted my chin. I felt lighter for saying it, like I’d laid down a burden. “I did once, even though that voice in my head told me not to. You know, the one that makes me think I’ll never have anything, ever be anyone. Ever be beautiful enough, smart enough… loved enough? Do you know what it’s like when that voice is right?”

  “I do.” He nodded solemnly. “I never wanted to be that to you.”

  “I don’t know that you do. You never net let anyone close enough to let the voice be right.”

  “You.”

  That answer was like ignition on a rocket. “Me? When, Kieran? When did I make the voice right?”

  “By not forgiving me.”

  “This was a test and you know what, that’s not how love works. Life tests us enough without testing each other. I’m supposed to feel bad that I can’t be okay with you sleeping with other women? With a woman who used to be my friend?” I shook my head. “No, I’m done.”

  “I can’t just be friends with you.”

  Panic threatened to strangle me, but logic overrode fear. He was manipulating me, just like the test. And April had been right on at least that, the part about how things would never be any better.

  I could suddenly see why Kieran couldn’t maintain a relationship with anyone. Anytime someone had expectations of him, he couldn’t stand it.

  Finally, I realized maybe I could be the woman I wanted to be, maybe I was actually on my way to becoming her because the way I perceived myself—that woman—she would have taken this shit because she thought she deserved it.

  Or she couldn’t do any better.

  But I didn’t deserve it.

  And I could do better.

  Even though my heart was breaking, I think it was a lot like re-breaking a bone to set it correctly.

  “Then I guess you should look for somewhere else to live.”

  “You’re evicting me?”

  “Of course not, but if you don’t even want to be my friend, we shouldn’t be living in the same house.”

  “What are you going to do if Chubbalicious fails? All your money is tied up in that and this house.”

  “If you’re not my friend, why do you care?”

  “Damn it, Claire.” He pushed his hand through his hair. “Things can’t end like this.”

  “You’re the one ending them. I’m trying to be your friend.”

  “But we’re not friends, not anymore.”

  “Why? If we can’t be friends, we sure as hell can’t be lovers.”

  “I guess you’re right. I’ll start looking for a place.”

  It was stupid that part of me still wanted him to fight for me, for us. But I’d told him no, what did I expect?

  The short answer was not this, but the long answer was much more complicated and made of fairy dust and bubbles.

  “I thought you promised you’d always love me.” He walked out of the room.

  I always would love him, but even if I told him that, he wouldn’t believe me. And it was kicking the issue to death because if I tried to reassure him, he’d think it was a door.

  I’d thought that reaching for what I wanted would ruin everything and it had, just not in the way I’d anticipated. I thought it would be me begging him to stay, to love me. Brackish pride welled. It was sour and stagnant because I hurt so much, but it was pride nonetheless that I had settled.

  And that I truly believed that it wasn’t okay to treat me this way and I wouldn’t accept it. Even if it meant losing him. Even if it meant being totally alone.

  I wouldn’t ask Hollie or Rosa to choose sides. They were April’s friends too, and I wasn’t going to play the friend break up game where you divvy up the group. I was just going to bow out.

  Maybe that’s what I needed. A totally new start.

  I thought about how empty the house would be without Kieran and maybe it was time for that to g
o too.

  Something like hope surged through me. It was warm and soothing and while it didn’t wash away the pain, or fill in the cracks in my heart, it was soft like feathers.

  Or maybe it was a padded room. Selling the house was crazy.

  Or was it? I’d have more money to invest in Chubbalicious and money to live on. I could move to an apartment, get roommates… I spent most of my time in my room anyway. This house hadn’t been a real home to me as a child and now that Kieran and I were broken, what was the reason to stay?

  I could be shed of everything and really start over.

  I could start as the woman I kept saying I wished I was.

  Both feet in the frying pan. Why not?

  15

  I grabbed my laptop and headed to the coffee shop armed with my new sense of adventure and my to do list.

  It was time to stop fucking around.

  What had I been waiting for anyway?

  The easy answer was failure.

  Truly, I’d expected to fail in some massive, horrible way. Now it had happened, I’d failed with Kieran and with Brant. I’d lost both of them.

  And it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. That’s not to say I didn’t miss both of them, or that maybe some night I’d be sitting by myself in fuzzy slippers, with gelato and watching P.S. I Love You and bawling my eyes out. I’m sure I would.

  I’d definitely miss watching the stars from the roof of The Rooster and I’d miss Saturdays with Kieran, coffees with the girls, and the way Brant made me feel… I’d miss it all and it hurt that it was all gone.

  But I was still here. I still had my dreams and I’d come to the realization that nothing was going to stop me from shooting for those stars I watched so often.

  I wasn’t afraid to fail anymore.

  Even though that lesson came with a lot of pain, it was a gift. I could see that even now.

  I bought a mocha and scanned the shop for an empty table. I saw Ryan sitting in the corner and he waved me over.

  I lowered myself to the chair and propped my laptop open. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “Trying to write this paper. Been procrastinating.”

  I peered around the edge of his tablet and saw a picture of a guy wearing nothing but a jock strap. “I can see why.”