“Awesome. I’m Hayze, the bartender. Are you going to ETU?”
I wiped my hands on my jeans and stuck my hand out to her. She was beat red as she stuck her hand out. She dropped the shirt in her hands, but didn’t reach down to get it.
“I’m Taylor. Starting my first semester.”
I walked around the bar top, grabbed the shirt and handed it to her. Her brows bumped into a scowl as I did this. She had no idea she dropped the shirt.
“You dropped this.”
“Oh, right, I was about to grab it…On my way out,” she said, walking backwards.
“See ya around, Taylor.”
I smiled, thinking this would win her. But I was wrong; she practically ran from the bar. I stood speechless, waiting for her to come back in. At the very least, to give me her number. I might actually call that one.
Eric walked in. “Who the hell was that?”
“New girl. Dibs,” I said.
“Maybe you should sleep with her now. We wouldn’t have to go through the trouble of training her before she quits.”
I laughed, shaking my head. He was right. I had done that a time or two, but I had a weird feeling that girl wouldn’t fall for it. Her wide, green eyes were too innocent. I should stay away from her, but I know at some point, something will go down. She’s too hot to leave alone.
Now I stand in the same spot, thinking about asking her to marry me. It isn’t every girl’s dream to be proposed to in a bar, but I’m not romantic and I know she’d find humor in it.
The new bartenders walk up, watching me suspiciously. I don’t know anyone except Randy in this bar. Lea, Scott and Shea walk in, grabbing the biggest table, they wave me over.
“Where’s Taylor?” I ask.
“Parking the car,” Lea says, waving the waiter over. She orders a round of drinks and I sit down.
“I’m going to ask her to marry me tonight. You could’ve done that yourself,” I say.
“Exactly. I didn’t want to treat her different. She would’ve known something was up,” Lea says, shrugging her shoulders.
I sigh, exasperated. It’s hard to have a conversation with Lea. The wooden door is shoved open, revealing Taylor. She’s in tight, black skinnies with heels, and a shirt that shows more than I like.
I bite my tongue, smiling painfully as she approaches. I swear to God she wears shit like this to get a rise out of me.
I stand, pulling a chair out beside me. She kisses me appreciatively before sitting down. “You look beautiful,” I say.
“You clean up nice yourself,” she says.
“What have you done all day” I ask.
When we came in today, Lea insisted Taylor spend the day with her. She was reluctant, but Lea is persistent. It gave me time to talk to Scott. I wasn’t even bothering with her dad. He should be lucky he’s still living with how he’s treated Taylor.
She holds her hands up. “I got my nails done. I don’t even recognize my hands,” she says, laughing.
Lea, Shea, and Scott get up, and walked toward the loud room next to us. Randy’s request was a good idea; the second room is packed with college kids. It’s bittersweet being back here. I’m glad Taylor and I have finished college, but we would never be immature college kids again. If I fucked up, I couldn’t write it off as being young and dumb.
“Do you remember the day we met?” I ask.
She goes through different shades of red before giggling. “I was so awkward!”
“It was hot,” I say, lifting me eyebrows, which only makes her laugh more.
“How did you talk to me after that?”
I shrug my shoulders, looking around the bar, I take a sip of my beer. “Same way you talked to me after all the shit I did.”
“You just had to kill the night?” She smiles.
“I was thinkin’ about the day we met before you got here. You came in, I was high out of my mind, and I told Eric I had dibs on you.”
Her mouth drops open and her eyes go wide. “I’m officially repulsed.”
“No, listen, I sat there all night thinkin’ you’d come back in and give me your number or somethin’, and you never came back. Then I found out Lea was your roommate, I knew if anyone could make me settle down, you’d be the one to do it.”
She leans in and kisses me. “I love you.”
I reach over to Lea’s purse that’s sitting in the chair beside me. I grab the black, mystic shirt she’d kept over the years. I take the black box from my jean pocket and wad it up in the shirt. Taylor is looking around, smiling. I know she is feeling the same way I am, happy and sad. We left this bar four years ago. We would never be that young again.
I toss the shirt on the table, grabbing her attention. “You wanted me. You were staring at me and dropped your shirt. Remember?” I say, smiling.
“You still have this shirt?” She grabs it, holding it out to inspect it. The black box tumbles out, and she juggles to catch it as it falls in her lap. “Hayze?”
Her eyes grow wide as she looks at me then back to the box. I nod, urging her to open it. She holds it in her palms, closing her eyes, she opens it. The large, square ring caught what little light is in the bar, sparkling.
Knowing it would embarrass her to get down on one knee, I lean in, pressing a kiss on her lips. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” She says, her eyes were watering. I swipe the tear that falls before grabbing the ring from the box. I hold her left hand and slide the ring on. She looks at it then to me, in awe.
“I know that wasn’t traditional, but nothin’ about us ever was.”
She kisses me. “It was perfect.”
“I love you. I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you.”
One Year Later
Taylor
The girl in the mirror can’t be me. Long, beach-style waves, hang down my body, covering most of my dress. It cut mid-thigh, and my tan legs dominate my outfit. Today, I am beautiful. I finally understood what he saw in me.
I kick my sandals off, deciding to go barefoot. When I hear a knock. I twirl around, inspecting myself one more time. Grinning from ear-to-ear, I grabbed the small bouquet of flowers on my way out.
Lea, my maid-of-honor, is waiting for me. She looks me over, tapping her chin, she hums, thinking. “Should you wear white if you’ve lived with your boyfriend for five years?”
I smack her arm, playfully. “Let’s bring up your rap sheet.”
“You look beautiful,” she says, smiling.
“So do you,” I say, and I mean it.
She has let her hair grow out; the tame, sandy color, brings out her brown eyes. If she didn’t have the sleeve of tattoos covering her right arm, I wouldn’t recognize her.
When the music starts, I look at her in horror. This was where Hayze and I disagreed. We could’ve been married, without an audience, but he wanted me to have the full effect. Although there are only a handful of our closest friends and family beyond those doors, my heart is about to leap from my chest.
Scott appears, wrapping his arm through mine. Lea walks ahead of us. I take a deep breath, waiting to pass out any second as he pushes the French door open and leads me to the beach.
The breeze catches my hair, lifting it lightly as we make our way to the small ceremony. The setting sun is behind the archway. I concentrate on the gorgeous scene, looking anywhere except him. I know once I do, I wouldn’t be able to hold back the hot tears that threaten to spill out any moment.
The aisle isn’t long enough; soon I was looking into the eyes of my future. Biting my bottom lip, I look up, refusing to cry. He is waiting for me with a goofy grin. Casually dressed, he steps down, holding his hand out to me. Five years ago if you would’ve told me I’d be standing here, marrying Hayze Clark, I would’ve laughed in your face.
But in those years, he hasn’t yelled, he hasn’t fought, he hasn’t turned to drugs when things turned bad. He isn’t the same guy he was; he’s the man he was supposed to be all along.
He take my hand in his, lea
ding me to the alter. His grin was contagious as he presses his lips to mine.
I moan in his mouth. Pressing my hands on his chest, I push him back. “I think you’re jumping ahead.”
“I’ve waited years for this,” he says, pushing his lips back to mine.
The minister clears his throat. Giggling, I apologize as he began the ceremony. I couldn’t listen to him; my attention is on the man beside me.
“We’re all here today to celebrate the relationship of Taylor and Hayze and to be witnesses and supporters of the commitment they share with one another. Together we’re a group of the most important people in their lives and they’ve brought us here to recognize that we’ve all played some special part in the love they share today.”
“Marriage gives permanence and structure to a couple’s love. It’s a way to tell one another, we’re in this together. Marriage is telling the person you love that you’re not going anywhere, and that’s a powerful commitment for two people to make to one another.”
“The vows that you are about to make are a way to share your love and commitment to each other in your own words. These vows are your way of openly declaring your promise to one another as well as to all of those who are here in attendance today.”
Scott and Lea step up, handing us our rings. Hayze watches me, grinning as if he’d won the lottery; this is it.
“Repeat after me,” the minister says, looking at Hayze.
“I, Hayze Clark, take you, Taylor Thompson, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part,” he says, sliding the ring on my finger.
“I, Taylor Thompson, take you, Hayze Clark, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part,” I repeat, and not so gracefully, slide the ring on his finger.
“Taylor and Hayze, you have professed your love by exchanging your vows. You have symbolized your commitment by exchanging rings. With this, there is just one more question I need each of you to answer.”
“Taylor, do you take Hayze to be your husband?”
I could barely see through my tear streaking eyes. “I do,” I say.
“Hayze, do you take Taylor to be your wife?”
“I do.”
“By the power vested in me I now pronounce you husband and wife. Hayze, you may kiss your bride.”
The minister barely had the sentence out of his mouth when Hayze’s mouth crashed to mine. Trying to embarrass me, he tips me back. Once I’m on my two feet again, I step back and he takes my hand in his, leading me down the aisle.
“It’s a great honor to present to you Mr. and Mrs. Hayze Clark!” The minister says, scrambling to get the words out before we leave.
Our family follows after to the small dinner we had on the beach. With only four tables, we choose the one furthest away from the group. The sound of crashing waves in the background catches my attention. I look behind me, searching for the slightest sliver of light.
“We’ll get in there later,” Hayze says, kissing my forehead. I lean into him, smiling. Since we arrived, he hadn’t taken his hands off me.
“I’m not swimming in the ocean at night.”
“You think I’d let someone hurt you?” He asks, clearly offended.
I look up at him, my brows bunched together. “I don’t think sharks know your rap sheet.”
He shrugs his shoulders. “They will by the time we leave.”
He pulls a chair out for me, grinning.
“You’re impossible,” I say, taking a seat.
“What do you think?” He asks, sitting next to me.
I tear my eyes from him, searching the reception at the small resort. I can’t lie, it was perfect. What little decorations we have, added to the ceremony. Our family shuffles through, choosing tables.
“I love it,” I sigh.
“What was that?” He asks, nudging me with his shoulder. “I think you said I was right.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m glad we didn’t elope, whatever.”
My mother is the first to walk over. She bends down, hugging me, tears are pouring from her eyes. “My little girl is married,” she says, sniffling.
“I’m so glad you came,” I say. With little time to plan, we had ask a lot of our guests.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’m so sorry he didn’t come,” she says, taking a step away; she watches me sympathetically.
I hold my hands up. “Not here, please.”
She nods, knowingly. Last month, Hayze called my dad, asking him for his blessing. He of course, said no along with other words. I was proud of Hayze, he didn’t blow his temper; he hung up and we haven’t heard from him since then.
Hayze’s mom is the next in line. “Welcome to the family,” she says, hugging me. She moves to Hayze next.
I watch Lea on the dance floor, her date spins her out as she giggles. Somehow along the way, she had found her own happily ever after.
“When are we having grandbabies?” My mom asks, slinging her arm around Hayze’s mom. My eyes go wide and Hayze coughs, choking on his drink.
“We’ve waited long enough,” Hayze’s mom says, antagonizing us.
“We have the rest of our life for that kind of stuff,” Hayze says, coming to my rescue.
The truth is, we don’t visit that conversation. I know he is as scared as I am. We both grew up with a shitty parent. This is something we aren’t ready for. If the time ever comes, Hayze will make the best father, but I’m not ready to share him.
Unsatisfied, they leave our table, joining the rest of the guests.
“The rest of our life?” I ask, quoting him. I crinkle my nose. “That sounds permanent.”
He nods, looking around the reception. “Starting when they leave.”
I purse my lips out, thinking. “We don’t have to wait.”
He stands, pulling me from my chair, I squeal. “This way,” he says, leading me toward the resort.
When we got to our room, I ran to the bathroom. Digging through my suitcase, I find my white-lace negligée. I unzipd my dress, dropping it to the floor. I step out of it and pull my wedding night outfit over my head. I look in the mirror, raking my fingers through my hair once. I open the door and walk out before I can talk myself out of it.
It’s a weird thing, finding the one you love. It hits you out of nowhere. We were the two most unlikely people to fall in love, but with all of our differences, somehow, we were the same.
I find my husband, standing on the balcony. His hand stretched out, handing a drink to me. That disrespectful, tattooed, reckless boy, who made my stomach turn with his stories, turned out to be the one who brought me back to life.
He had pulled his tie off and rolled his sleeves up, showing off the tattoos I love so much. With the moon casting light over him, I can’t believe he was mine.
He walks over, circling his arms around my waist. “I was gettin’ impatient, Mrs. Clark.”
“What’s the rush? You have me forever,” I say, smiling at how funny it sounds. His lips found my neck, trailing up my ear.
“It’ll never be enough. I love you,” he says, then he showed me, time after time.
THE END
The first look into Hayze’s story:
RUINED
Ruined
The wood paneled walls were closing in on me. I knew they were. Sweat beaded up, rolling off of my forehead as I drummed my leg on the floor. I wasn’t sure why I agreed to this. I could tell her no. I was a grown man. Maybe I had as much false hope as she did, hoping someone could pull me from darkness.
She wanted to sort through my head, but she knew it was twisted. She was afraid of what she may find. So, I spent my hour as I did as a child, watching the walls close in on me, slowly suffocating.
Dr. Moore cleared his throat again, trying to break the ice. It had been awhile, but I was the same as I
always had been. If nothing else, at least I was persistent.
“Your mother told me about your father’s sentence. Do you want to talk about that?”
“Nothing would make me happier than discussing my father’s twenty-year sentence with you,” I said, leaning back on the sofa.
He flipped through his notes, marking on a page, then he looked back at me. “She also said with his health, he probably wouldn’t make it out. How are you dealing with that?”
Call it irony, but each time I hear that I feel a knife twisting in my gut. They all wanted to know how I was dealing with it, at least they thought they did. In their ideal world, I would tell them I felt sad, maybe hug them, and be fine.
In my sick, sadistic reality, I dealt with by doing so much coke I passed out, and woke up with three girls in my lake-house.
The kind of answers I can give them aren’t the ones they want, so I keep everything to myself. While he’s in prison, it’s easy to keep my feelings locked up with him. But I didn’t know how much I cared until my mother told me he wasn’t getting out, and I knew I’d lose him.
I thought he would get better; I thought this was a big-grand scheme to work out our problems and finally have some sort of relationship. The past was gone, and the future would be too without my father. The question nags me like the memories I refuse to let surface: If this was the point of our lives, why did we even exist?
“Your mom doesn’t think you’re dealing with this well,” he said, breaking the silence. I stared at the wall behind him, my mind was running at the speed of light.
“I’m sure she doesn’t.”
He leaned back in his chair, exhaling a long breath as he tapped his chin. “Sarcasm doesn’t help you, but I’d like to find what can, Hayze.”
I shrugged. “I’ve found some things to keep my mind off it all.”
“Productive things?” He asked, brows raised.
“For a college kid.”
He shook his head at my response. After ten years, I know he’s tired of me, but he helps. At the very least, I sort through my thoughts while I’m in here. I don’t say anything out loud. Sharing my thoughts would be the equivalence of second hand trauma.
The Hazed Series (New Edition) Page 37
