Sweetest Heartbreak

by Heather Bentley

  I follow her inside, impressed myself because she’s not far off.

  Dark-chocolate cabinets with glass doors line the walls and rise to the top of the twelve-foot ceiling. Resting a hip against the large island in the middle of the room, I watch her at the far end, standing near a three-paneled mirror that allows me the opportunity to study her without being caught.

  I get a full view of her toned legs that lead up to a white top that scoops just low enough to frame a small pendant that rests on her chest. She turns and tucks her hair behind her ear with the same fingers that held mine just minutes before, and out of nowhere, all I can think about is touching her again. But I will my body to stay in its spot.

  “Is this place in your budget?”

  “Sorry?” I force my guilty eyes to hers.

  “Is it in the budget? Because, if it is, you have to get it.”

  She’s serious and anxious, as if someone else might just walk in the door and buy it out from under me. It’s kind of cute.

  “We haven’t even checked out the entire space yet. What if the view from the balcony sucks?”

  When her eyes light up yet again, I feel like I’ve just won a prize. Finding new ways to excite her is becoming increasingly addictive.

  I push off from the island and follow her to the family room, not even bothering to hide my smile. As I turn into the kitchen, she’s already stepping out onto the outdoor space. As much as I want to stand next to her, I can’t get over the sight in front of me. Her hands grip the railing and her body leans back to absorb the sun as a strong breeze travels in, lifting her hair up and back. I commit the image to memory. If I wasn’t sold on this place before, I am now.

  I step out beside her as she motions to the spot on the railing next to her. As if I’d go anywhere else. We turn our sights forward, above the crowded streets of downtown, and it’s surprisingly quiet.

  “This view definitely does not suck.”

  I close my eyes and replay the image of her from just seconds ago. “No, it definitely does not.”

  Something about seeing her here only makes me want more. I shake off the thought because Leah is a relationship girl, and I am the furthest thing from that. Whether it’s Laurie, the girls I hooked up with in rehab, or the countless others, it’s what I do. It’s what I’m good at.

  I know I need to do something and quick to cut myself off from whatever this is I’m feeling. I bring my phone to the side and text Laurie, asking her to meet me tonight. It takes all of ten seconds to receive her emoji response—thumbs-up, heart, lips, eggplant.

  “What’s up with the eggplant?” I mumble to myself.

  “What did you say?” Leah asks with a smile as she glances at my phone.

  “Uh . . . nothing. Nothing.” I slide my phone into my pocket with one hand while I hold the balcony door open for her.

  Downstairs, we meet Joan to discuss the property. We still have a few more to look at, so I make it a point to keep Leah at arm’s length for the rest of the morning, no matter how good her skin felt against mine.

  Just before I get in the car, I take a sip of coffee. Only a few cold, sweet drops hit my tongue because I drank the whole damn thing.

  Leah

  “I thought you said Heath was coming over,” I say to Eli as I come around with the chips and salsa and join him on the sofa.

  We’re spending the night in with his family at his house.

  “He said he might stop by later. I guess he made plans tonight.”

  “That’s odd. He did get a few texts this morning but never mentioned anything.” Just when I thought I was making progress with the guy.

  Eli shrugs off my comment. “So, how did it go? Anything worth putting an offer on?”

  I stop the chip before it reaches my mouth. “Eli, we looked at four condos, and each was more incredible than the last. They were all brand-new and absolutely stunning. Steam showers and wraparound balconies. One even had a hidden door to an office. Crazy!” I say the last word before taking a bite.

  “Well, they should be nice for a million dollars.”

  I start to choke on my chip. “I’m sorry, what?” I slap at my chest and take a sip of water.

  “That’s his budget. One million dollars.”

  “You’re serious.”

  “You were with him all day. I assumed you knew.”

  “No, he never mentioned a number. And, trust me, that number, I’d remember.” My head shakes at the thought.

  I’ve never known anyone at our age who has access to that kind of extravagance. Even Eli, whose family is better off than most.

  “Pizza should be here soon. Want to pick the movie?”

  We’re seated near each other on the sofa as he brings up Netflix before passing me the remote control.

  Just as I’m about to take it from him, he pulls back. “But I call that the word love can’t be in the title.” He looks at me matter-of-factly.

  “What? That’s not fair,” I whine.

  “Lee, what were the last few movies you picked?”

  “Well, there was—”

  “I’ll tell you,” he cuts in, counting on his fingers for dramatic effect. “Love Actually, Can’t Buy Me Love, and Shakespeare in Love.” He looks triumphant and smug. Because he’s right.

  “Fine,” I say in defeat. “Then, what are we going to watch? But nothing with fighting, superheroes, or aliens.”

  He rolls his eyes. That pretty much eliminates everything he likes.

  “Looks like you’re fucked, dude.” The voice comes from behind the sofa.

  We both turn to see Heath, dressed in ragged khaki cargo shorts and a black T-shirt frayed along the bottom. When he takes up the open space between us, the smell of pot hits my nose.

  With a lazy smile on his face, he puts an arm around each of us and looks from side to side. “How are my two best friends?”

  I try to pull away, but he holds me in place, his fingers digging into the bare skin of my shoulders.

  “What? If you’re his best friend and I’m his best friend, doesn’t that make us all best friends?” He thinks the annoyed look on my face is from his words, not the wretched odor wafting off every inch of him.

  I catch what looks like smeared lipstick on his neck and jerk out of his hold, standing at the same time Eli elbows him in the chest.

  “Jesus, Heath. You’re wasted. You’d better not have driven here.”

  “No, Laurie dropped me off.” The cocky smile on his face turns my stomach sour.

  “I’ll go see if the pizza is here,” I mutter even though I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. I need an excuse to get out of this room.

  After spending the day together, I thought we were actually becoming friends.

  I am such an idiot.

  In the kitchen, Lucy, the oldest of Eli’s sisters, is clearing the long island to make room for the pizzas that are stacked at one end. “Hey, Leah. I was just about to get you guys. Did Heath make it there in one piece?” Lucy gives me a raised eyebrow.

  I shake my head in frustration. “Luce, that guy . . . what a . . . I mean . . .” I’m walking around the island, helping her lay out the boxes and put out the plates and napkins.

  “Who are we talking about?” Sienna, the middle sister, asks as she enters the room.

  “Heath just got here,” Lucy answers, her tone flat.

  “Ah,” is all Sienna says as she grabs a plate.

  I’m a little shocked at their lack of surprise.

  Sienna turns to me. “We love Heath, Leah. He’s like family, but, man, does that boy have some growing up to do.”

  “Let me guess. We’re talking about Heath,” Megan, the youngest of Eli’s three sisters, announces as she joins us. “He’s a perfect example of what happens when you give your kids everything.”

  “Listen to you three,” their mom, Elaine, chastises as she closes the refrigerator door and sets out the salad. “We all know that, without his dad, Heath would be dead in a ditch somewhere. So, bette
r he be spoiled and immature than six feet under.”

  All three girls roll their eyes, and I can’t hold in my laughter.

  “You’re so dramatic, Mom. Seriously.” Lucy waves a hand in the air before filling her plate with food.

  Eli and Heath enter the room, and Heath goes straight for the pizza, cutting in front of Sienna and piling his plate high.

  “Hey!” she shouts as she shoves her body against him. “You’re such an ass, Heath.”

  He ignores her, instead choosing to take a large bite of a slice right in her face. All three girls spear him with sharp eyes, ready to pounce. But he grabs a bottle of water and leaves the room, completely oblivious.

  I watch his back until he’s out of sight, disappointed that the guy I spent the day with is gone, replaced by a total jerk that has taken up residence in his body. Just when I think I’m getting to know Heath, I see this other side of him again that I don’t understand. And, quite frankly, that I don’t like.

  I don’t go back to the room where Eli and Heath are. Instead, I sit at the kitchen table with Eli’s sisters and pick at my food before helping Sienna wrap up the leftovers.

  “Don’t go there, Leah.” Sienna gives me a knowing look as she turns to the fridge.

  “What are you—”

  “I saw the way you looked at him. And I get it—to a point. I mean, he’s good-looking, rich. He’s the ultimate player in a game that every girl thinks she can win. But I’ve been around long enough to tell you that they lose. Every time. And I don’t want to watch that happen to you. Not just because I care about you, but also because of what that would do to my brother.”

  “Sienna, it’s not like that. We’re barely friends.”

  “Heath doesn’t make friends with girls.”

  I eye her with doubt.

  “My sisters and I are different. Heath is family. Just don’t go there, okay? What you think you see there, lingering under a facade of equal parts confidence and arrogance, isn’t as it seems. Trust me.”

  “Cynical much?” I try for cool but can’t help but replay her words.

  Visions of the lipstick on his neck and the roughness of his hand on my arm have me cringing at the thought of where else his hands have been tonight. She’s right. That guy has heartbreak written all over him.

  I don’t bother to say good-bye to the guys. Instead, I text Eli from the driveway that I’m leaving.

  Heath

  Shit. Leah smelled good when I sat next to her on the sofa. Way better than Laurie had. Laurie smelled more like a dirty ashtray. Whatever. She got the job done. But she hadn’t felt like Leah; that’s for damn sure.

  When I wrapped my hand along Leah’s shoulder, it took me back to the condo and when she’d slid her hand into mine. I wanted to tell her I put an offer on it—partly because it had everything I wanted, but also because it was the one that had made her eyes light up the most. But I didn’t get the chance.

  “Good job, asshole.”

  “What? I’m just sitting here. What did I do now?”

  “Leah just texted. She left.”

  Shit. My already fading high begins to bottom out. I took this too far. All I was trying to do was distract myself from her, but all I managed to do was piss them both off.

  My phone vibrates on the coffee table with a text. It’s my dad wanting to know where I am. We were supposed to have dinner.

  “Jesus, Heath. You’ve barely been home from rehab and you’re getting high, screwing around, and blowing off your dad. Do you have your shit together, or not? Figure it out.”

  I grab my bottle of water and chug it down because all I want to do right now is tell Eli to fuck off—or worse, admit that he’s right.

  When he gives me a ride home later that night, I let my arm hang out the window and casually toss my newly purchased bag of pot out into the trees.

  Leah

  Eli is dead. He just doesn’t know it yet.

  “I thought we were supposed to be packing.” Standing with my hands on my hips, I huff as Heath takes a shot from the three-point line.

  Eli promised he’d be here, and if he doesn’t show up soon, I’m going to hunt him down and kill him myself. I did not give up my Saturday to watch Heath work up a sweat. No matter how good he looks doing it.

  “I figure, since Eli’s not here yet, we can get a game of Horse in.”

  I stomp to the door and shout over my shoulder, “I’d rather start packing.”

  “Afraid I’ll beat you, Princess?”

  With my hand on the cool metal handle, memories of years of competition with Connor come rushing back. I turn to see Heath spinning the ball in his hands, looking smug as hell. There’s no way I can walk away.

  “Pig!” I shout back.

  “Elephant.”

  What?

  “Ox.”

  “Gorilla.”

  Jerk.

  “Jerk,” I fire back. “And I shoot first.” I storm back to the court.

  “Of course.” He passes me the ball, not even bothering to hide his cocky smile.

  As I take a few warm up shots, he asks, “Care to make it interesting?”

  My shot bounces off the rim. “What do you have in mind?”

  He crosses the court, so we’re practically toe-to-toe and looks down at me with a mischievous grin. “How about, if I win, you have to unpack the entire kitchen in my new place?” He doesn’t miss the obvious confusion on my face. “What? Louise has been buying me every kind of spoon and plate and pan they make. I don’t know what to do with all that shit. And, honestly, I have no desire to figure it out.”

  “Fair enough.” With my hands to my hips, I rock back on my heels in thought. When it hits me, I rise onto my toes and point into his chest, holding my eyes to his. “And, if I win, you have to stop drinking and getting high.”

  His jaw shifts as he considers my bet. “For how long?”

  “One month.” I want to say, forever, but I know he’d call the whole thing off.

  He’s staring me down as he considers my offer. I don’t budge.

  “Deal.”

  “Seriously?” I was expecting anything but that.

  He puts a hand out, ignoring my surprise. “Care to shake on it?”

  I don’t hesitate to take his hand in mine and grip firmly. He squeezes even harder in return as the corner of his mouth rises, and his eyes narrow. I have got to win this bet, if anything, to knock that ridiculous, pompous, self-righteous attitude down a few notches.

  I take my first shot from the far right on the free-throw line and sink it. I stand in place, waiting for him so that he can stand exactly where I am.

  “Easy, Princess. I think I get how the game works.”

  I move out of his way and watch him easily sink the shot.

  I manage to make my next shot and step aside as he gets into position. He bounces the ball a few times and then spins it between his hands. I’m growing impatient when he spins it once more.

  Then, he says the one thing that throws me off my game. “I’m sorry about being an ass at Eli’s house.”

  I stand there, silent.

  “It was a shitty thing to do to both of you, and I just want you to know . . . I’m sorry.” Although he’s speaking the words to me, he never pulls his focus from the basket.

  “Thanks.” Stunned, it’s the only response I can manage.

  He takes his shot—and misses.

  We go round for round, finally tied at three letters each—J-E-R—when I decide to go in for the kill shot.

  As I get myself aligned at the center of the free-throw line, Heath laughs. “C’mon, don’t make it so easy for me.”

  I fail to mention that Connor and I have played this game out on our driveway more times than I can count. I raise my chin in challenge, take one more look at the basket, and then turn around to face the opposite wall. I can hear him stifling a laugh from beside me, but I shut him out and focus only on the ball in my hands. I lift it once, twice, and on the third time, rele
ase it backward over my head.

  I turn just in time to see it bounce from the backboard to the rim and then . . . in the net.

  “Yes!” I jump with both hands in the air. “Make that shot, Braeburn!”

  He shakes his head, smiling in disbelief as he walks to the line. He turns his back to the net and peeks over his shoulder before closing his eyes and swinging the ball just once before launching it back over his head. I hold my breath as I watch it bounce off the top of the backboard and then onto the court below.

  “I win! I win! I win!” I shout as I run across the court and launch into a celebratory cartwheel, followed by a flip-flop. When I turn back and run his way to gloat over my victory a little bit more, I’m met with the last thing I expected from Heath. A huge, radiating smile. “You know what this means, right?” I ask, out of breath from my impromptu gymnastics routine.

  “Yes, Princess. I know exactly what it means.” He rests an arm over my shoulders and says with a wink, “It means no fun Heath for a month.”

  We head for the doors, in need of a drink. My body is vibrating, not so much from the victory, but because of what it means.

  “Well, for what it’s worth, if this is boring Heath, I like him much better.”

  He slides a door open for me as we exit the gym, and goes behind the bar to grab us a couple of bottles of water.

  He holds one out to me, all the while shaking his head and fighting a smile.

  I don’t bother to hide my own. Not just because I won, but because I would’ve been just as happy to lose. I’m dying to organize his new kitchen.

  Heath

  I’ve never seen anyone so happy to win. When she started flipping across the gym floor, with her hair flying all around and her face flushed, the smile she rewarded me with was absolutely worth me throwing the game for. I doubt I’d have made that backward shot anyway, but I didn’t want to risk it. I definitely could have made the two before it though. Not that it matters. I’m done with the drinking and drugs. I need to show my dad that not only can I handle the responsibility of living on my own, but I also deserve the kick-ass condo he’s paying for. So, I’m officially retiring from partying.