I shrug out of his hold, suddenly feeling defensive. Something’s wrong…“Dude, what’s your problem today? You’ve been acting like a jerk all day.”
He’s not normally like this. I probably shouldn’t yell at him. His dad just died a few weeks ago. He’s been going through some stuff with his mom. He’s been fighting with his brother. My eyes focus on the purple bruise on his chin. I shouldn’t yell. It’s just that he’s been quiet. All he does is focus on his music. And I don’t mind watching him practice with his band or going with him on gigs. I love all of that. What’s bothering me is that he’s not talking to me lately. He’s bottling everything up. And today in particular, he’s shutting me out completely.
“I’m sorry, Benjie. I didn’t—”
He cuts me off unapologetically. “I wanna break up.”
My blood runs cold. “What?”
“We should break up.” He yanks his hand from mine.
My legs can’t move. I’m stuck in my spot on the sidewalk. My insides quiver with nausea. “Why? Why are you saying this?”
He just shrugs. His nonchalant body language tells me that it’s no big deal to him. But his eyes—they can’t meet mine. “It’s gonna happen anyway. Let’s not delay it anymore.”
“We’ve talked about this. We have plans.” I find myself following him, dragging myself even though my feet feel like weights.
He swerves into the driveway to his house. “You’re going away to become a doctor. And I’m gonna do this singing thing and…”
I shake my head, over and over again. “But we don’t have to break up. We can make it work.”
His voice is completely devoid of emotion when he says, “I don’t want to. I don’t want to make it work.”
I can’t believe that this is happening. It feels like my whole world is falling apart in my hands. I don’t care how desperate I sound. I don’t care that I’m begging with tears streaking down my face. “We don’t have to break up. Please, Ben. Please.” He stops with his back to me at the bottom of the stairs. “…You said you loved me…”
For a fraction of a second, his rigid posture slouches. His shoulders droop and I feel him soften. Maybe he’s remembering that we have a good thing, that we’ve been together for over a year and before his dad died, everything was perfect between us. Maybe he’s realizing that if we give it a little time, things will go back to normal.
But then, he turns to face me with an expression of stone. “Love doesn’t matter. This is the opportunity of a lifetime…And I’m not—I’m not gonna give it up…for you.”
How could he be so cold? This isn’t the boy I know. This isn’t the boy I love. This isn’t the boy who promised he’d be mine forever.
Ben climbs to the top of the stairs and yanks the screen door open. Just as he’s about to step inside, he casts me a glance. There’s something in his eyes. Something that completely contradicts the words he’s saying. There’s something he’s not telling me.
His mouth opens and closes a few times. He’s struggling with what to say.
“Ben, please…” My voice is hoarse and weak. I’m leaning against the railing to keep my balance.
The cold air fogs up and his lips quiver as he breathes out a hard breath. “Angela…go home.”
He turns into the house, leaving me on his doorstep, a heartbroken, blubbering mess.
My heart is thudding. My skin buzzes. Even after all this time, reliving that day is the worst. Suddenly, the apple tastes bitter on my tongue. It might as well be poisoned. In some ways, it is.
There’s no way I can let myself forget what that jerk did to me. There’s no coming back from that. No amount of kind gestures in the present day can make up for what he did and how he did it.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and rise to my feet. I toss that fucking apple in the garbage.
It took me a long time to build myself back up after that day. I worked hard. I earned academic awards. I clawed for professional success. I’m not going to let these feelings come steamrolling back and knock me down again. Hell no!
Benjamin Riggs screwed me over and left me broken once. I sure as hell won’t give him the chance to do it again.
Chapter Nine
Ben
Madden's thumbs tap dance across the screen of his phone and his voice rises above the buzz of the electric razor. "I think I finally know what love is, man."
My head snaps over at my brother so fast I almost lose the tip of my ear to the barber's clippers. "Hey, watch it, dude." Rough-looking tattooed hands steady my shoulders and the barber barks in a gruff voice. "My insurance doesn’t cover snipped off body parts."
Clinton is really damn good at his job. But he’s a bit lacking in the customer service department. I mutter a quiet apology to the barber and take the phone from my brother as he stretches it my way.
A pair of plump breasts greet me when my eyes land on the screen. They look like they’re filled with helium and if this poor girl so much as sneezes, they’ll go kaboom! “Another prospect from CheekyChat, huh?” I fight the urge to shake my head.
“Prospect?” My brother says, feigning offense. “This woman is my soulmate.” He waves in the direction of the phone, forcing me to examine the photo more closely.
She has a nice body, I guess, but she doesn't appear to be big on hygiene. Her purple-green hair is matted to her forehead, her skin is greasy as hell and I'm hoping that's just a burnt popcorn kernel wedged between her two front teeth. And don't get me started about the dirty laundry and takeout wrappers littering the background in the selfie. "You're an idiot," I say with a slight laugh as I toss the phone back at him. "Your dick is gonna fall off from messing with the girls on that app."
Jason Cruz chuckles in his chest as he snips at the ends of Madden’s hair. My brother addresses his clean-cut, impeccably-groomed barber. "Isn’t my brother a self-righteous prick today? Don’t mind him. He can't help it. His ex-girlfriend is back in town and he’s a whole new man. I don’t even recognize him anymore. It's like she's got the remote control to his dick or something."
I hear Clinton chuff from somewhere over my shoulder. "Man, when the right woman gets her hands on that remote control, trust me—you won't be complaining." A wry grin splashes across his usually-stoic features. With that, he saunters away with a noticeable hop in his step.
Madden’s eyes follow Clinton as he disappears into the back of the shop. "Wait—you, too, man? Everybody I know is catching this bug. Is it something in the water in this town?" His face is painted with shock, disgust and disappointment.
Cruz laughs and speaks in a low voice. "Clinton? Oh never mind his tough guy exterior. He’s totally whipped. He gets grumpy when he goes a few hours without seeing his woman. But once he's had a dose of her, he's just a big, inked up teddy bear."
“I heard that,” Clinton hollers as he reappears with a fresh set of clippers in his hand. He chuckles gruffly. "You're one to talk, Cruz." He points the razor at his co-worker as he speaks to my brother and me. "This guy has a fancy, fashion magazine editor for a girlfriend. She wears his balls as earrings. Matches nicely with her Prada handbag."
My laughter rings out but Madden isn’t amused. He shakes his head, clearly disappointed by the news. "Man...I'd gladly give a woman a 'pearl necklace' if that's what she's after. But my balls? No woman's taking ownership of my balls." He cups his groin protectively.
The Rusty Razor is the place to get a haircut in Copper Heights. Usually, it’s packed wall-to-wall, but today, Madden and I got lucky. It must be the weather. We’re the only customers in the shop. And for better or worse, the barbers, Clinton and Cruz, are in the mood to shoot the shit.
The barbers exchange a look. "You don't know what you're missing out on,” Cruz tells Madden. “There's nothing like the love of a good woman. All the brittle, jagged edges of the world smooth away with the touch of a good woman."
Madden rolls his eyes. “You sound like you’re about to start your period.”
&n
bsp; Grunted, masculine laughter fills the room.
“One day, you’ll understand.” Cruz gives him a pitying look and pats him on the shoulder. Then he turns his attention to me. "So, what's the deal with this mysterious ex-girlfriend, fireman?"
"Like Madden said, she’s back in town." That’s all I offer.
"All these titillating details!" Cruz laughs. "I'm scandalized!"
I snort out a laugh and scrub my palm along my jaw. "She was my high school sweetheart and I don't wanna sound trite, but she’s just not the type of girl you get over. Fucking beautiful. Smart. She knows literally everything. No need for Google when she's around. Plus, she's competitive. Ambitious and stubborn. Conquering her was like winning the damn Olympics..." My words trail off and I stare at my miserable face in the mirror while the other men wait for the rest of my story.
"So what happened?" Clinton asks eventually as he drags a hard brush over my hair.
I shrug. "I had the opportunity of a lifetime. I didn't want to hold her back while I pursued it."
My brother chuffs out bitterly. "That's bullshit and you know it!"
I should have known he wouldn't let me get away with that half-truth. "It's part of the picture..." I say weakly. "Things got complicated after my father died. My family had some tough situations to face. I made bad decisions. They caught up with me.” I release a loaded sigh. “She was so sweet, so innocent and she had such a bright future ahead of her. I didn't want to destroy her in the process."
In a rare moment of seriousness, Madden's voice is cryptic. "You never told that girl the truth. That was unfair. You let her walk away thinking that you'd given her up for the most selfish, superficial reason. I'm not a specialist on women's feelings but rejection like that must have been devastating for her."
"I was 17, man. I was a kid. I didn't know how to handle all the shit that was happening. I made a mistake." Yes, I’m being super vague about what happened but I don’t need these guys digging into the nitty gritty of my life and spitting out their advice. My mom’s got that covered.
All week, she’s been blowing up my phone with text messages and voice mails, asking if I’ve tried to reach out to Angie. She even created a Pinterest board full of ideas for how to win my ex back. The woman has gone overboard.
I don’t need anybody else’s interference. Angie and I aren’t getting back together. I should probably just accept it. There’s nothing I can do that will make her stop hating me.
Clinton's gaze connects with mine. "Well, you're not 17 anymore. And from the miserable look on your face, I'm thinking that maybe you should try and fix it."
He thinks it's that simple. "The girl won't even talk to me. Whenever she looks at me, all she does is shoot daggers my way."
He presses a fist into my shoulder. "Dude—dump your excuses. Women aren't that complicated.
"Do bequeath us with your knowledge, oh wise one," Cruz spits out sarcastically.
Clinton shoots him a glare. "A woman basically just wants to know that the man she gives her heart to has her back, that he's looking out for her, that he values and respects her, and that no matter what bullshit life throws her way, she's got some place warm and safe to fall.” He watches me with a lifted brow. “If this girl is giving you a hard time, it's probably because deep down, she wants you. I know it sounds like the usual dumb shit guys say to make themselves feel better but it's the truth. Trust me. When I met Vivian, she did everything she could think of to keep me away. But I was onto her. Every time she looked at me, I could see that lust right beneath the surface. And when I finally showed her that it was safe to let that lust free, it was fucking explosive.” He grins, satisfaction radiating from his face. “If you broke that girl’s heart once, show her that you've learned your lesson and that you'd never disappoint her again. And then, make sure you never disappoint her again. It may take time and effort, but if she's as special as you say she is, it'll be worth the investment."
Sitting in silence, I let those words simmer in my mind. Is it really that simple? Is the key to winning Angie back just letting her know that she can trust me with her heart this time?
"Told you he was a big fucking teddy bear," Cruz mumbles under his breath.
Clinton shrugs a shoulder and speaks in a gruff tone. “What can I say? My girl put me in touch with my softer side.”
A chorus of low chuckles bounces off the walls.
The barber tears the cape from around my neck and dusts the loose hairs away. "You're all set, man." He heads over to the cash register. Madden is already standing there, waiting to pay.
Cruz pulls me aside. "The stuff that Clinton said sounds corny as fuck but the guy is right—if you want that girl back, just let her know she can trust you with her body and her heart."
I nod, letting the words sink in. As I’m exiting the shop, I slap palms and bump shoulders with the barbers as a parting gesture but their advice plays in my head for the rest of the week.
Chapter Ten
Angie
I’m at work, literally watching paint dry.
My eyes follow the lethargic movements of the old man positioned on the ladder as he drags the roller brush over the watermarks on the wall. I drop my weight against the ER’s front desk and groan out of boredom.
Nina sits in a swivelling chair at the desk with her Kindle in hand, attention fully fixed on the screen. A high-pitched noise that sounds suspiciously orgasmic coasts out of her mouth. She clutches a hand over her heart.
Yes, while I'm dying of boredom, my supervisor is quite content to kick up her feet and indulge in mommy porn at the nurses' station. Aren't there any lives in this town that need saving?
I lean her way and try to catch a peek at her X-rated reading material. "How's your gangbang book going?"
That earns me a deep eye roll. "It's not a gangbang book, Angela. There's so much more to a well-executed reverse harem book than just the sex. It's about connection and power dynamics and role-reversal. It's actually quite empowering toward women. It’s arguably a treatise on modern feminism." She wipes at her runny nose with a balled up tissue.
"Yeah—sure. The fact that each one of the woman's orifices is plugged by an enormous appendage belonging to a different man? That's totally just backstory."
She takes a jab at my expense. “Stop being self-righteous. It doesn’t look good on you, Supply-Closet Sally.”
I can’t help but snort a laugh. “Ouch. Touché.” I have a past. I’ll own it.
One corner of Nina’s mouth curls up. Looks like trouble. “Speaking of people I’d like to bang in a supply closet—I hear that Benjamin Riggs came around looking for you a few days ago.” She waggles her brows saucily.
I make an attempt at keeping my features impassive at the mention of his name. The past few days, I’ve gone to extreme measures to steer clear of him. Even when it meant hiding out in the men’s washroom—on Burrito Day, no less—when I spotted his broad back hunched over the front desk, asking the nurses if they’d seen me around. Anyone who’s spent any extended amount of time in this hospital will tell you that the bathrooms in this building turn into hazard zones on Burrito Day. But it was a hazard I was willing to face.
So now, he keeps messaging me on CheekyChat. Apparently, he can’t take a hint. I should probably just delete the app but for the life of me, I can’t figure it out.
To make matters worse, his mom has been texting me, reminding me of her invitation to dinner. And I love Polly. I really do. She’s a good, wholesome, wonderful lady. But I can’t give in to her attempts to push me and her son together.
I can’t be around Ben. I can’t trust myself around him.
Because anytime I’m near him, my head and my heart go to war. I want him—okay, I’ll admit it—but he doesn’t deserve any kind of role in my life. Not after what he did to me. So, I’m just going to have to maintain my distance and keep on fighting the way I feel until I can shut down these emotions for good.
“I have no business with that man,�
� I tell Nina. “There’s absolutely no reason for him to be looking for me.”
Nina laughs through her usual congestion. “Do you need a reason for a man like that to be looking for you? Jeez!” She licks her lips suggestively. “Y'know, I hear he used to be in a boy band. Holy teenage wet dream!"
“Maybe we should change the subject,” I mutter quietly into the air.
She drops down the Kindle and folds her arms across her chest. "What exactly is your problem, Harvard?" She sniffles again.
I find myself pouting. "I’m not here to go wild over boys like a hormonal adolescent,” I say on a rough exhale. “I just want to work! Nothing exciting ever happens in this place. I'm honestly very grateful that the citizens of this town are apparently immune to every illness known to mankind and that their life expectancy seems to exceed that of the rest of the country by like, a zillion years…but I sort of wanna—y'know—work!"
"Well, I apologize on behalf of the great townspeople of Copper Heights for their healthy eating habits and active lifestyles." Nina delivers that zinger with her trademark snark.
My frustration is overwhelming. "Seriously, though—how am I supposed to learn if there's never anything to do around here?"
"Ugh—girl, you get paid. Isn't that good enough for you?"
No, it isn’t.
I need something to help keep my mind off of Ben. Every time my thoughts go blank for even a second, his gorgeous, dimpled smile floods into the void to taunt me. And I can't stop imagining what his hands would feel like on my body. They're bigger than they were when we were teenagers. Those fingers are so much thicker and the pads must be rough to the touch.
The expression on Nina's face tells me that she thinks I'm pathetic. She gives me an uninterested wrist flick. "Look—if you're that bored, go do rounds. I'm sure you'll find a bedpan somewhere in this building that needs changing." She turns her attention back to her e-book.
The Blue Collar Bachelors Box Set: The Complete Blue Collar Bachelors Series Page 68
