Love and Heartache (Love &... #2)

by A. J. Briar

  Our professor enters at that moment, discussing the course syllabus and what is expected. The lesson drones on, and throughout, I find my eyes shut on their own accord. Repeatedly, Logan keeps nudging me to keep me awake. Today is going to be long and shitty, I can just feel it.

  The class ends with our professor promising us, that tomorrow we will be set our first assignment, which as a whole, we all collectively groan at.

  “You want to grab some brunch?” Logan asks while we both pack our things away.

  “Wish I could but I got to get to my next class. Rain check?”

  “Sure thing. I’ll probably see you tonight though?” I groan mentally, remembering that I’ll have to work, when all my friends will be partying it up at The Hideout.

  “I’m working but yeah, I’ll see you guys later.”

  “See you later Iz.” Logan gives me a quick wave before heading down the steps and out of the double doors. I follow behind and trudge my way to my next class.

  The day drags by lesson after lesson, and I barely have time to grab a sandwich before I arrive at work. It’s relatively quiet now, but it will definitely pick up soon. I quickly change into my uniform; a black tank top with the bar’s logo on, paired with black skinny jeans. Anthony is pretty lenient with what we wear, as long as it’s black he doesn’t care.

  I shove my hair up into a high ponytail, already preparing myself for the evening ahead. Murmuring a quick hello to Indi behind the bar, I grab my tray and pad.

  As the evening grows on, more and more people come in, mostly college students. Halfway through my shift, Rory and his entourage enter, snagging one of the bigger booths in the corner of the room.

  Hastily, I weave my way to their table and fixate my gaze on Rory and Logan, knowing they speak for the rest of them. By the looks of things, the majority of the basketball team are here. Roxy’s in luck. I give a quick wave and smile, before I pull my pen out.

  “What can I get you guys?” Rory grins my way before answering.

  “You already know our order babe.” Over the years, he’s perfected the art of just the right amount of arrogance before his smile turns into a smirk. I laugh and start scribbling down what they all usually order.

  “Anything else?” I sarcastically ask.

  “A date?” He winks and I let out a snort. Logan’s eyes flit to mine, apparently gauging whether he should step in or not. This isn’t the first time Rory has asked me out and I’m fairly sure it won’t be the last. I think he only does it to piss Roxy off, which is why I’ll never say yes.

  I shake my head and laugh, not bothering to respond while walking back to the bar.

  Out of nowhere, Roxy intercepts me, perching herself on one of the cedar-colored leather stools, that line the length of the bar. She’s obviously been home and changed; the little black lace dress doing little to cover her body. Her raven hair is straight, and she’s gone all out with her make-up. Her eyeliner is on point and her lips are her trademark, ruby red.

  “Why are you over here, when the guys are over there?” I gesture behind me, where the guys are sitting. Roxy grabs her drink and swivels on her stool.

  “I’m playing hard to get. Plus, there’s this new guy coming, that I’m going to accidentally bump into. Izzy, you have to see him. He’s fucking gorgeous. Just transferred from some college across state. Logan told me, he’s our new shooting guard.” She’s practically bouncing out of her seat with giddiness, which is weird as I’ve never seen her act this way over a guy.

  “Rox, take a breath will ya.” She smiles my way, but her eyes keep drifting towards the door.

  “I can’t help it. He’s literally sex on a stick and I only saw a glimpse of him.” She fake fans herself while I grab the guy’s drinks filling my tray with the pitchers. I’m just about to pick up the tray when I hear Roxy squeal next to me. She stands up and swaggers across the bar, to where a group of guys have just come in. No doubt our mystery shooting guard has arrived.

  I turn my attention back to my tray, carefully carrying it to the guy’s tables. Hoots and hollers signal my arrival when I place the pitchers down.

  “What the fuck?” Rory’s voice cuts through the chaos as I watch the scene enfold in front of me. He jumps up, the anger simmering, his mouth sets in a grim line. I follow his line of sight and spin on my heels, to see Roxy standing not too far away in front of a guy.

  My eyes trail from Roxy to a guy, when he looks up at the exact same moment. His baby blue eyes pierce my own, as the recognition slams into me like a tidal wave.

  Nathan fucking Hartley.

  His eyes that have been lurking in my dreams are now staring at me, filled with so much emotion that I struggle to decipher any of it. My breaths start to stutter whilst my mind tries to figure out what is happening. Little flashes of memories hit me like lightening, causing me to stumble backwards. I end up needing to grip the table for support.

  He starts towards me, skirting around Roxy, to stalk my way. An internal war brews. My body refuses to move, my mind tells me to run. Before I can make a decision, Nathan stops and stands only a few inches away from me.

  The eyes I remember. But everything else about him seems familiar yet not. He’s tall and lean, the black shirt clinging to him while he crosses his arms across his chest, creating a x in front of him. Tattoos cover most of his arms while also peeking out from his shirt, pulling me in, making me want to know more about him. I’m absolutely positive that he didn’t have those on his arms all of them years ago. I draw my eyes upwards to meet his expression.

  Those crystal blue eyes that this morning, I’d envisioned full of hope and promise are now filled with doubt and fear. And somehow, I know I’m the one responsible for it.

  2

  Nathan

  The world is closing in around me. Literally. My vision is tunneled and all I can see, is her in the dead center of it.

  Her stunning teal eyes that I’ve spent the last two years dreaming about, lock with mine. My heart speeds up when I see her stiffen.

  She recognizes me.

  I know it. I feel it. The air seems to crackle with a spark that I haven’t seen or felt, since that dreaded night years ago.

  My posture changes in an instant as I politely apologize to the chick in front on me. Stepping around her, I head Isabella’s way. The closer I walk, the more my mind reels at all the possibilities that could present itself. Maybe she hasn’t recognized me, and she just thought I was hot? Just like that other chick did. Just like most chicks do.

  Her face is a blank mask, hiding her emotions from both the world and me. Ironically, it still cuts me deep seeing her so closed off from everyone. All the time I spent knocking her walls down, was gone in one fail swoop. My mind trails to that fateful night and I, once again, punish myself for leaving her alone. The thoughts of her screams that pummeled through the air, still has the ability to shatter my heart into pieces. I shake off the encroaching feelings, that I know is guilt and regret, before they can take a firm hold.

  Breathing in the familiar vanilla scent of her shampoo, it transports me back to a better time.

  “Hi,” I murmur, not entirely sure how she’ll respond. I’m positive she knows who I am, she just doesn’t remember what we meant to each other. The love that I knew I felt for her, lost in the blink of an eye. It was bone crushingly painful to find out that she couldn’t recall any of the memories we’d shared together. I was just another face, in the endless swarm of people around her.

  After the accident, I visited numerous times, just to have Isla push me away. I thought at the time, Isabella was just pissed I’d left her alone and that she’d fallen off, but I’d soon realized, it was way more than just her holding a simple grudge.

  She didn’t remember me. She couldn’t remember me. I shouldn’t have felt as bad as I felt, knowing that it was something beyond her control, but I did. It fucking wrecked me knowing that I had memorized every detail of her, and I would recall every detail of our time together for the
rest of my life, whereas she remembered nothing.

  When she ran, leaving me in the dust, it really shouldn’t have surprised me. Isabella always did run from a problem, thinking she wasn’t strong enough to handle it, when in reality, she’s a hell of a lot tougher than she gives herself credit for. The void in my chest only got bigger over time. No amount of sex, drugs or alcohol has been enough to fill it.

  “Hi,” she replies timidly. Everything about our interaction is stilted and wrong. I’ve dreamt of this moment so many times, of what I’d say, and do. Yet I’m struggling to even see past the fact that she is here. In front of me. Looking fucking divine in her tight skinny jeans that she always used to wear. Her body is even more luscious, than I remembered.

  A cough next to us, breaks me out of my reverie as we both swing our heads to the side. The chick from earlier sidles up next to me, her body closer than I would like. Desperately, I try to recall what she said her name is. Don’t get me wrong, she’s hot. Her tattoos give her an edgy vibe that I’d normally be all over. Yet I feel nothing. Not with the beauty of Isabella, standing not two feet away.

  The raven-haired chick leans away from me then she whispers in Isabella’s ear, a slight grimace mars her face when Isabella listens.

  I’m not sure what’s going on, especially since these two now seem to be deep in conversation with each other and I’m now the creepy third wheel. My throat goes dry, so, I hightail it away, towards the nearby table where the guys are sat. I spot Logan waving me over, Rory’s next to him, with a face like thunder.

  “Good to see you dude. I wasn’t sure you’d come.” Logan greets me with a slap on the shoulder and a beer in hand, which I gladly take and drain.

  “I didn’t want to miss a chance to get to know you guys better. Good impressions and all that.” I pour myself another beer, then take the seat next to Logan. I met the team last week at pre practice, but the atmosphere was tense. It’s clear the guys don’t rate me and the fact I’ve come from literally nowhere, and ended up as shooting guard, has obviously ruffled some feathers. But I don’t care. Coach knows how hard I’ll work and how good I can be, when I’m not screwing up my game, that is.

  Having been at rock bottom, I know I don’t want to end up there again, meaning I need to keep my nose clean. I can’t afford to have to create a new life again. I’m lucky that Logan threw me a bone when I arrived. He had a spare room in his apartment, letting me rent it for dirt cheap. I’d moved my shit in last month, but I’ve barely seen or spoke to him. The guy’s all mysterious and aloof.

  I risk a glance back to where I’d left Isabella and the black-haired babe, both are still in deep conversation with each other. I have no idea what’s going on there and I’m not even sure I want to know. The chick who’d approached me was obviously after one thing; the one thing I can’t ever give her. If I’d met her a year ago, I probably would have slept with her. I haven’t exactly been a saint at my old college. Earning a rep that I’d like to forget as I tried to erase all feelings of Isabella from my memory with a series of one-night stands.

  Was it my smartest move? Nope but I knew that I was on a road of self-destruction, the moment Isabella left town without saying goodbye. I needed to fuck away my feelings for her before I ruined myself with the guilt, that still seems to gnaw away at my conscience every now and again.

  “Who’s the girl?” I ask and motion towards where they are standing. Logan quirks his eyebrow upwards when Rory pipes up from next to him.

  “Roxy, my twin sister. She’s off limits.” He glares my way, clearly thinking I’m interested in her, when he couldn’t be further from the truth. I hold my hands up in front in defeat, not wanting him to get the wrong idea.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll stay away.” Rory nods and then turns his attention to the dude sat on the other side of him. I try to keep up with the conversation and take note of how these guys operate. Logan and Rory including me is a big bonus as it’s clear as fuck that Rory owns this team. To be honest, it’s clear Rory owns the school too, although that’s fine with me. He seems pretty chill and only really gets riled whenever one of the guys mentions Roxy, who has now taken up residence in between him and Logan.

  I scan the room figuring out quickly that Isabella is working. Every now and again, I’ll catch glimpses of her from behind the bar, the slightest glance causing my heart to race.

  It’s fucking stupid to think of her in any sort of way considering our history, but I can’t help it. She owns my heart, and she has no idea.

  Logan nudges my arm, bringing me out of my fantasies and gestures towards Isabella, who is now taking orders at a table of sorority girls across the bar. I’d completely zoned out staring at her and he’d noticed. Shit.

  “Do you know her?” He chuckles while I grimace next to him. If only he knew how well I knew her. The memories of that night are permanently ingrained into my brain. No matter how much I tried to forget.

  At that moment, Roxy decides to interrupt the conversation drawing Logan’s attention away from me. Thank fuck. She flashes me a conspiratorial wink, which makes me think that maybe Isabella has told her who I am.

  Isabella bypasses our table, asking whether we need anything, and I can’t help but notice how different she looks. Not physically but in the way she holds herself. I spot a mile away that the walls that I fought so hard to break down, are up taller than before. It makes me wonder whether she’s let anyone else in since me. Fury floods my veins, picturing her with another dude.

  Shoving the mental image from my head, I stand gesturing to the guys that I’m nipping outside to smoke. If I stay any longer in Isabella’s presence, I’m going to go crazy. Hell, I’m halfway there already.

  I weave through the dwindling crowds and head outside, letting the bitter night air fill my lungs. I don’t smoke anymore, especially during basketball season, but I need space to figure my shit out.

  Leaning against the brick wall, I let my head roll backwards while looking at the darkness above. I don’t know how much time passes but the sound of a woman’s voice startles me from my thoughts.

  “Nathan.”

  Straightening up, I see Roxy peering round the corner, a look of determination of her face. She stalks towards me and although she gives off the bad girl vibes, I don’t buy it. Appearances mean fuck all in our lifetimes.

  “Relax. As much as I’d like to fuck you, you’re off limits. I know that. I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.” I laugh at her bluntness, shrugging my shoulders because I haven’t been okay in a long time, but she doesn’t need to know that.

  “All good here.” I flash her a quick wink when in response, she arches one of her eyebrows up. Her hands go to her hips as she cocks one hip to the side; the movement draws my eyes down her body. If my heart didn’t belong to someone else, I’d be all over Roxy in an instant, but it does and even though Roxy is smoking hot, I feel nothing. My brain is hardwired to think of Isabella and only Isabella.

  “You know I know who you are right?” She strides towards me; her whiskey eyes searching my face for something. Anything.

  “Most people know who I am sweetheart.” My cocky persona comes out to play as I smirk at Roxy. She rolls her eyes and takes another step towards me, so she is standing inches away. If anyone comes outside, this position probably won’t do us any favors but fuck it, if I’m backing down first. Roxy thinks she has something on me, but I’m fairly sure it’s all bullshit. Though the tiniest part of me, hopes it isn’t.

  “Drop the bullshit act. I may not have known you back then, but Isabella sure did.” I wince at her words and the small smirk on her lips turns into a full-blown grin that fills her face. She has me and she knows it. I’m fucking struggling to keep my emotions in check when my mind centers on her words.

  I may not have known you back then, but Isabella sure did.

  What exactly does Isabella remember? Because years ago, she remembered fuck all and ruined my world. Does this mean she’s started to remember things?
When everything went down, I’d researched her diagnosis, clinging to the tiniest shred of hope that she’d be able to recall her memory. But it was clear that she had no intention of remembering, at the time anyway. Maybe things are different now.

  The words I desperately want to ask to get lodged in my throat. I simply shrug my shoulders hoping like hell, the gesture looks casual rather than the stiff and stilted I feel.

  “Fine. Be like that. But all I’m going to say is don’t screw her around. Or you’ll have me to deal with.” She flips her hair over her shoulder and stalks off back towards the bar, muttering under her breath about needing a drink, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

  As much as I don’t appreciate being threatened, I’m glad Isabella has Roxy watching out for her; the girl is clearly a fucking bad ass to approach me and goad me, like she just did.

  Knowing I need to go back inside and make an appearance, I trudge my way back in. My body is automatically drawn to where Isabella is standing talking to Logan at our table. She laughs at something he says, and jealousy courses through me. The only redeeming thing about the whole interaction is even from here, I can tell her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. It’s a smile that shows she’s still hidden behind her walls, protecting herself from the world.

  She picks up a few of the glasses that litter the table and then leaves, just as I approach. Her face tilts upwards, those stunning teal eyes staring up at me, causes my step to falter.

  “Nathan,” she whispers, her voice is low, I barely hear her. My gaze is unrelenting while my mind pictures her whispering my name, while trailing kisses along her jaw. I know it’s a fucking dangerous game to play, one I’m not sure I want to play, but still do anyway. She’s the star of my fantasies, and the fact that I’ve had her once, only makes my feelings intensify.

  Someone pushes Isabella from behind, forcing her forward and instinctively, I reach out, grabbing her before she faceplants the floor. The entire scene is reminiscent of how we first met, and I almost laugh at the irony. Although, this time, I’m able to stop the blood bath from happening. Her soft body is flush with mine as I straighten her and I have to remind myself where we are, and who is surrounding us.