My eyes stretch. “What? Why not?”
“Because . . . we just haven’t. I don’t know. I’m so confused with him and I’m kind of glad that he took a trip to Tampa. I needed some time to myself to think. This whole commitment thing just feels so . . . I don’t know . . . blah!” She nibbles at her bottom lip and right now I just want to drop my keys, drag her to the sofa, and have her tell me everything but I have my most important class today, English, and the professor is talking about Edgar Allen Poe. I don’t want to miss this lesson.
“Well then we are definitely going out for some girl time. We’ll go out to eat so be ready to tell me everything.”
“I will,” she sighs, tucking a few strands of blonde hair behind her ear.
Nodding, I turn around and hurry for the door. I’m glad Harp wants to get out and I’m glad I have her to talk to. Maybe she can help me see clearly. I feel as if I’ve been so blinded by love that I don’t know the real reason behind it. I loved Bryson because he made me feel better about myself (the first two years while we were dating) and because . . . well he was my first love.
With Nolan, it just seems so different. I won’t say that it’s wrong because it’s far from that. It felt right with Nolan and I loved it so much. I got so caught up in him that I didn’t even realize that I was falling in love with him. The day at the airport when he had to leave for California, half of me was walking away. My heart is with Nolan but what made me give it to him? What made me fall?
“Damn it,” I hiss, pulling the door of my car open and hopping inside. Why is this shit so complicating?
****
Professor Doran is already giving his lecture as I step into the classroom. Tucking my notebook beneath my arm, I rush for the middle aisle and take my regular seat near the window. A few people look my way, as if they’re just now noticing I’m in their class but I focus my gaze on my notebook and flip to a blank page. I dig for a pen out of my satchel bag but just as I’m about to write the objective of our class for the day, a broad body comes into view and sits in the chair right beside me. I look towards the stranger who has a smile on his lips but as I look at him, my eyes remain glued to his.
He has the softest hazel eyes I’ve ever seen. His lips are still hinting with a smile and the features of his face are structured and chiseled to perfection with a soft edge. His hair is purposely mussed, a gentle, dirty blonde (something I usually don’t go for in a guy but with him I would totally make an exception) and he has some minor facial hair above and below his lips. I swallow as my eyes fall down to the tight blue T-shirt he’s wearing and then down to his dark-wash Levi jeans. Somehow, I finally find the will to tear my gaze away and look around the room. There are plenty of open seats. There is only twenty people max in this class and we could each have our own table, but he decides to sit next to me?
I turn to look at him again and he smiles down at me, his hazel eyes sparkling from the splash of sunlight coming in through the window beside me.
“I hope it’s alright to sit here,” he says, his voice deep and somewhat hypnotic. He has a bedroom voice. A voice a girl would love to hear while she’s getting banged. I drop the thought and turn ahead with a nod, gripping my pen.
“I guess it’s alright.”
“You guess?” he asks. I can hear the smile in his voice.
“Yeah—well I mean there are just a bunch more empty seats in this room. I’m not sure why you chose to sit next to me.”
He chuckles softly and I watch as he looks from me to the professor. “You’re a bit blunter than I thought you would be.”
“Rough morning,” I reply.
He digs into his pocket for a pen and opens the blue notebook in front of him. He looks forward at our professor who is so enthused about Edgar that I wouldn’t be surprised if he was Edgar Allan Poe himself. “I see you around here a lot,” the guy beside me says. “I’ve always wanted to know what it would be like to know you—and I’m not being weird. Just honest.” He jots something quick down then looks at me, another smile hinting on those soft pink lips.
“Why?” I ask, frowning.
“I don’t know. I always see you come into class either late or extremely early. You pay no attention to anyone else, you just listen to Professor Doran teach. You write so many notes that you don’t even realize I actually enjoy watching you from back there.” He points his pen backwards and I glance over my shoulder, only to see there is an empty table.
I narrow my eyes at him before brushing it off and writing a few more things Professor Doran has written on the whiteboard. He might’ve just hit the creeper line with that one.
“Am I coming on too strongly?” he asks. As I look at him, he’s smiling . . . again!
“Very strongly.”
“You like to take things slowly, I see.”
“Apparently not,” I sigh, leaning against my seat, “because the guy I date just told me we’ve rushed our relationship and now we’re on a slight “pause”.”
The guy’s eyes thin out and his lips press. His jaw ticks as he drums his fingers on top of the table but he never looks away from me. “Your boyfriend is an idiot for taking a slight “pause”,” he says, making quotation marks with his fingers, “because you are one a guy should never set free. You’re way too beautiful.”
I smile at his compliment. “Who are you?” I ask, giggling.
He lightens up and a charming smile spreads across his lips. “Tyler. Tyler Stokes.” He stretches his arm out, reaching his hand towards me and I shake it.
“Natalie Carmichael.”
“I knew your name would be just as remarkable as you are.” Smiling, the fire rushes to my cheeks. I blink quickly before grabbing my pen again to doodle on the edges. “Would it be wrong to ask you out for a bite to eat and a movie?” he asks.
“Very wrong,” I say, pressing my lips.
“Why?” he urges. “You’re on a pause. Why not make the break worthwhile?”
I think on his statement before shaking my head. “We’re on a pause but we can always press play at any time.”
“I hear what you’re saying.” He then leans back in his seat, picking his pen up. I watch him bite on the cap for a few minutes before finally sighing and watching Professor Doran flap his arms in the air as if he’s a raven.
This Tyler guy. I have to admit he’s hot and he’s in close comparison to Nolan but he seems too interested and I don’t need that. I have enough worries of my own. I’m not one who’s up for jumping from guy to guy but then again Nolan and I are on a break. Technically, I can do whatever the hell I want without feeling bad about it. At this very moment, I’m single and so is he.
I know he’ll come around. He has to. I’m not sure what I would do if I knew he was with another chick while we’re on a break. I would feel as if he never loved me in the first place if he moved on that fast. I can’t do it to him. I’ll wait a little longer for him to come around and call me again. He gave up on calling a few days ago when he realized I wasn’t going to answer but if he calls again, I’m actually going to settle our differences. I’m going to figure out what made me fall in love and tell him exactly how I feel.
As soon as Professor Doran wraps up his lesson, I grab my notebook, toss my satchel over my shoulder, and then step around the table to get out the door. I don’t even make it outside before the familiar voice calls my name. Turning slowly, I watch as Tyler jogs his way towards me, his books tucked beneath his right arm. He comes up closer than I would like and I take a step back, waiting for him to speak.
“You said you can press “play” at any time but the time hasn’t come yet.” He looks me over and I fidget under his glare, pulling my notebook against my chest. “I think it would be nice to get to know one another. We don’t have to go to extreme measures. I’ve just watched you mope for the past week and since I think I know the reason why you’ve been so down, I thought I could make you smile a little—I know it’s probably weird and out of the blue to you but . . . I
don’t know. I just thought it would be worth it to make someone’s day.” He grins and it causes me to reveal all of my teeth as well. “I’m just a genuine guy,” he shrugs. “My father raised me right. What can I say?”
“Well I’m sorry but I’m having a little girl time with my best friend tonight.”
“Doesn’t have to be tonight,” he says, shifting on his feet. “Maybe tomorrow night or the night after that?”
“I’ll have to think about it,” I say, smiling softly before turning around. I push out of the glass doors and head for my car but a rustling comes to my side. Looking to my left, there’s the consistent Tyler again.
He stops me and I want to tell him to go away as nicely as I can but as he grabs my hand to place a ripped sheet of paper in the palm of it, my words catch in my throat. “Just think about it,” he says, his voice humming through to my core. My belly heats and I know it’s bad to feel but he’s so damn hot . . . and he’s a chaser. Goodness, what the hell is up with me and chasing-ass men. “If you and your guy are still on a pause by the end of this week, give me a call. Consider it. Don’t just blow it off. I think you deserve to smile again. Sadness doesn’t look good on you. Happiness looks way better.”
We stare at one another for a few seconds longer before he finally takes a step back, winks, and then walks towards the entrance of the school to get inside again. I watch as his hips swing beneath his snug jeans, the way his broad shoulders move slowly but confidently. Taking a look over his shoulder, he notices that I’m still staring and smiles charismatically before reaching the door.
My heart pounds against my chest and through my ears. My nerves are stirring around inside of me but instead of dwelling on it, I tuck the paper into my back pocket and dash for the parking lot to get to my car and as far away from Tyler Stokes as I possibly can.
Chapter Ten
Nolan
This is the plan. Sell my mom’s house, give away some of her belongings, pawn what’s most valuable for some quick change, and then move back to Miami with Mills. The reason behind this plan is Natalie. I gave up on calling her a few days ago because it was starting to piss me off but the same night I came up with the idea that I’ll surprise her. I know she misses me because I miss her like hell. Since we’ve split up I’ve felt nothing but incomplete. I don’t feel whole without her. I’ve been drinking my ass off so much to get rid of the pain but it’s not going anywhere until we’re reunited again.
After pulling the empty cardboard boxes out of the trunk, I slam it shut then head for the house. As I step inside, I spot Mills digging through one of the tall boxes. “What are you looking for?” I ask, dropping the folded cardboard on top of the coffee table. I make my way towards him and he sighs, standing up straight to look at me.
“The photo album Mom had. I can’t find it.”
“It’s not in that box.” I turn for a shorter box in the corner and dig through it until I find the sky-blue photo album. I run my fingers across it, staring at the picture on top of me, Mills, my mother, and my father. That’s when we were a family. When we were whole. Shit got fucked up after he died. After he died, it seemed as if life was going nowhere but downhill. “Why are you looking for it?” I ask, turning to face Mills while aiming to distract myself from the negative thoughts.
“I just wanted to look through it one more time before we put it in storage.” He takes it from me then turns for the kitchen. I follow after him but lean against the wall as he takes a seat at one of the chairs around the table. Flipping to the first page, a wide smile immediately forms on his lips. “I remember this,” he says, laughing. “Dad took us to the park and I pushed you down the slide a little too hard. You scraped your cheek and your hands and started crying. Then Dad told you to toughen up and take it like a man.”
“I was only four,” I chuckle, stepping to his side to look over his shoulder. I stare down at the picture of four-year-old me wiping tears from my eyes and my dad bending down in front me, telling me to toughen up. He wasn’t being rude about it. He just didn’t want me to grow up to be a wuss. I guess his mild scolding’s paid off.
Mills flips through the pages a few times and the kitchen grows silent to allow the memories to flow. Most would expect an awkward silence but it’s far from that. It’s humbling. A few pictures of my Mom holding me in her arms when I was baby show up and even some pictures of her holding Mills’s hand at the shore of a beach, at the park, and even here, at this very house. Mills was more attached to my mother and I to my father.
“Remember when Dad always called you Milton instead of by your nickname?” I laugh.
He chuckles, continuing his stare down. “Hell yeah. I hated it so much. It didn’t match my personality but he was the only person who could get away with it.”
Sighing, I drop down in the chair across from him. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if he were still around.”
“Me too. Things would be better, I know that. We never would have moved away from Mom and she never would have met her douche of a boyfriend Derrick. I can’t believe he really had the nerve to show up at the funeral. Fucking bastard.” Mills’s grip tightens around the edge of the photo album and I shake my head.
“Calm down. It’s over with. She’s with Dad again.”
His grip lacks as he presses his lips together. “I guess.” He begins to flip through but pauses as he reaches the picture of me in a tux.
“Let me see that,” I say before taking it away from him. I stare down at the picture of me in a black tux, pink vest, and a matching pink bowtie. Some of the pictures are single pictures but others are with Sharon. She wore a silky pink gown, her blonde hair was pinned up, and her makeup was overly done. I guess I can admit that she’s changed because at the wake, her makeup wasn’t as caked as it is in this picture.
I look down at the picture of her in my arms, smiling up at me, and then another with her still in my arms but we’re kissing. At the sight of it I cringe and right after, the painful memories return.
“Check this out,” Mills said, tossing a football in my direction. Luckily I caught it before it could knock over the mannequins. Mills had a strong arm.
“Mills, chill out.”
“Fuck outta here,” he said, tossing another football. I grimaced as I caught it and then he chuckled. “Fine. Wussy.”
“Whatever,” I muttered as I placed the footballs in the bin beside me. “Let’s head to the food court. I need something to eat . . . plus I want to buy Sharon this Build-A-Bear thing she’s been talking about. Her birthday is tomorrow.”
Mills nodded in agreement and after we ate, we split up. I headed for the Build-A-Bear workshop while he headed to one of the shoe stores of the mall. I felt so fucking stupid for making my way to that shop but I loved Sharon and I wanted to get her something she wanted. She said she wanted it to say something but I didn’t know what I was going to have it say. I wasn’t that damn creative.
As I rounded one of the corners, that’s when I saw her. She had on a pair of light blue skinny jeans, a white shirt that was knotted in the back, revealing her flat belly, and her blonde hair was in silky waves against her back. I was about to run up to her and twirl her in my arms but then a tall guy ran up to her side to catch up with her.
I wanted to pound his face in for draping his arm around her shoulder but when she started giggling and acting as if she’d known him for months—maybe even years—I backed off. She kept walking forward and I kept watching. She was . . . happy. Happier with him than she was with me.
I should have confronted her at that very moment. I should have kicked his ass and caused a scene just so she could be embarrassed, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I had to control myself and my temper.
A few weeks after I saw her with the other guy, we started to drift apart and I didn’t give one fuck about it. I knew what she was doing when she would tell me she had to leave early to study or that she was going to meet one of her friends somewhere. I knew she was lying to me and it
was making shit worse. I don’t know why I was still with her—why I was still sticking around. I guess I just enjoyed the fact that she was an easy fix.
I thought she cared but she couldn’t have cared enough because she fucked with someone else while dating me. I figured I wasn’t enough for her so I decided to start going out with Mills and a few friends. We would get so wasted that I would forget about everything. I don’t blame myself for bringing random girls home and having sex with them. I don’t regret shit because Sharon fucked me over and she deserved every ounce of pain when she’d found out I had cheated on her as well. Once we’d figured out we were no match, we split and I never wanted to see her face again. I was lucky Mills found a job in Miami and wanted to get away from Mom and her boyfriend so I went with him. Miami was bad for me—someone who was only looking for quickies and one-night-stands—but I loved the feeling of being free.
I just knew, then, that I wouldn’t get serious with another girl until I was ready—until I wanted to trust again. I dated girls in Miami just to date them. I dated them because I was never in my right state of mind but when I met Natalie, looking at her caused something to flip inside of me. She was so innocent. So unique.
The first night I met her at the club, I admit she was hotter than hell and I wanted to fuck her brains out. I wanted to slam my dick into her so many times and then drop her off at wherever she lived without so much as a phone call the next day, but I couldn’t. When we went to the beach on the first night I’d met her, she told me that being with me was the most fun she’d had in weeks. She told me I was sweet . . . caring . . . different. She said she knew I was hiding something—that I was feeling some kind of pain and I asked her how she knew but she never explained because she was drunk and kept switching subjects. I wanted an answer so badly that night but I never got one.
Hard to Hold On Page 6
