Beauty in the Ashes

by Micalea Smeltzer

  I squirmed in my seat. I knew I needed to talk to him, but now wasn’t the right time. Well, there would never be a right time. I knew I was going to have to apologize for the kiss and its purpose. Memphis wasn’t dumb. He’d figured it out. But he deserved to have me say it.

  He walked away and didn’t look back.

  “That was interesting,” Emery remarked.

  “Don’t start hypothesizing,” I warned him.

  His hands rose in the air in mock surrender. “I’ll keep my thoughts to myself,” he mimed zipping his lips.

  Our waitress finally returned to our table, looking frazzled. “Sorry about that. Can I get you something to eat?”

  We each placed our order and she ran off once more.

  I figured since Emery liked to meddle in my love life that it was time I returned the favor. “So,” I used my straw to swirl around the ice, letting it clink against the sides of the glass, “do you know Daphne?”

  “Daphne Hart?” He questioned, and I noticed a slight tick in his jaw.

  “Yeah,” I narrowed my eyes, watching him carefully.

  “We grew up next to each other,” he shrugged.

  “Mhmm,” I nodded. There was more there than either of them said. I wanted to press him for more information, like he always did with me, but his eyes were far away and something told me to back off. That didn’t mean I was done talking about her though.

  “She’s nice,” I continued, crossing my legs, and sipping my water like this was a simple and easy conversation. I didn’t want him to get scared and change the subject. “Did you two ever date?”

  “Not really,” he shrugged, tapping his fingers on the tabletop in a random beat.

  “Care to elaborate?”

  He was quiet for a moment, contemplating what he ought to say. “I don’t think sneaking around when you’re sixteen counts as dating.”

  I nodded, trying to figure out what to do with this information. He’d said more than I expected him too. “Do you think you’d ever date her now?”

  He groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know. I’m not sure if there’s really a spark there.”

  “Don’t you think it’s worth finding out?”

  He looked away from me, a muscle in his jaw jumping. Finally, he huffed out, “Why is this so important to you?”

  “It’s not.” I sat back, the picture of ease. “I thought I sensed something between you guys.”

  “Well, you’re mistaken.”

  His face was twisted with anger and irritation. I knew I’d pushed too far and I needed to let the poor guy off the hook.

  “Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.”

  I slid from the stool and headed back towards the restroom area, but I didn’t enter.

  My real purpose for escaping was so I could locate Memphis.

  He wasn’t manning the bar and I didn’t see him dropping stuff off at any of the tables.

  I was about to give up hope when I spotted our waitress. I grabbed on to her arm before she could enter the kitchen doors.

  “Do you need something?” She asked, pushing strands of hair out of her eyes.

  “Uh…I’m looking for Memphis.”

  “Oh,” she frowned, “are you a friend?”

  “Something like that,” I muttered.

  She pondered for a moment, nibbling on her lip. Looking around, she said, “I’m not supposed to do this, but come on.”

  She led me through the kitchen and out a back door. “He’s on break. You can usually find him down there somewhere.” She started to close the door and leave me outside, but stopped. “Please, don’t tell anyone I did this.”

  “Of course not,” I assured her.

  “Thanks,” she flashed a relieved smile.

  I walked past the dumpsters and trash bags. I finally found Memphis sitting on the concrete with his arms dangling over his knees.

  He took a deep breath as my shadow caressed his body.

  Slowly, he looked up. I wasn’t prepared to see the hurt in his eyes. I was so shocked by it that I couldn’t even speak. He saved me the trouble. “Hi.”

  “Hello,” I squeaked. Why did I have to go and make things so awkward between us? Memphis was a good guy. He was the guy every girl dreamed of ending up with. He was kind and sweet. He had a steady job. He was funny. He was everything I wasn’t ready for.

  From his point on the ground, he tilted his head and looked up at me. “I assume you didn’t just come out here to say hello. If that is the case, you’ve done that, and you can leave now.” His words may have sounded harsh, but they really weren’t, and they were less than what I deserved. He spoke them softly, with no hate, just a resigned bitterness.

  “No,” I finally spoke, “that’s not why I came out here.”

  “I didn’t think so,” he looked back down at the ground.

  “I want you to know that I’m really sorry for what I did.”

  “For using me?” He flicked his copper colored hair from his eyes. “Because that’s what you did.”

  “I didn’t use you, not the way you think,” my tone of voice took on a pleading quality. I wanted him to understand that I wasn’t as callous as he believed. “I do like you, Memphis.”

  “But there’s someone else,” he stated. “I wish you would’ve told me, instead of lying and telling me that you didn’t have a boyfriend and—”

  “I didn’t lie. I don’t have a boyfriend. Things are complicated.”

  “So, yesterday…the kiss…?”

  He was going to make me say it. “I…I…Oh God,” I turned away from him, not sure if I was prepared to tell him my true fucked up thought process.

  “Just tell me. I’m a big boy. Why. Did. You. Kiss. Me?”

  I startled at the feel of his hand on my shoulder, forcing me to turn around. I hadn’t heard him get up.

  I swallowed thickly, staring at the buttons on his shirt.

  With his thumb and forefinger he forced my chin up.

  “Look at me, Sutton.”

  My eyes flicked from the ground to his. It was beyond painful to look at him. His gaze was unwavering as he waited for me to answer him.

  My breath left my lips with a shakiness that I didn’t like. I was used to being strong, but right now, I felt anything but that.

  I gaped like a fish for a moment, unprepared to say the words aloud. “I-I needed to know.”

  “You needed to know what?” His voice was soft with no irritation.

  Tears coursed down my cheeks and he reached up with his large hands to wipe them away.

  “That what I feel for him is more than what I feel for you.” My words were barely above a whisper, almost covered up by the wind, but he heard.

  His eyes closed and he let out a deep breath. “I knew it. I knew it the moment he hauled you away.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said for the thousandth time, and something told me it wouldn’t be the last time I apologized to Memphis. I leaned my forehead against his solid chest and sobbed. My gut told me that Memphis was the kind of guy I needed in my life, to heal and to ultimately love. But I wasn’t ready to accept that. Caelan was what I craved.

  His long fingers smoothed through my hair. “I’m sorry too.” I felt his lips brush against the top of my head.

  I don’t know how long we stood there—too long I’m sure.

  “I’m a mess,” I mumbled when I pulled away, wiping mascara off my cheeks.

  “Wait here,” he commanded and disappeared back inside the building.

  He returned a moment later with a damp rag. I held my hand out to accept it from him, but he wouldn’t let me take it. “Let me,” he whispered.

  Tenderly he wiped the black streaks from my face. I didn’t understand his kindness. I’d just rejected him. He should hate me. But he didn’t. Memphis wasn’t that kind of a guy.

  He was one of the few good guys left in the world.

  And I’d turned him down.

  What the hell was wrong with me?
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  When my face was clean, he tucked the rag into his back pocket. “I’ll see you around.”

  Before I could think of a reply, he was gone.

  I couldn’t seem to move and I knew with as much time as had passed that Emery was probably worried about me.

  When I could finally manage to put one foot in front of the other I walked around the building and entered from the front, for fear of getting the waitress in trouble.

  Our food had already arrived and Emery was almost done.

  “Did you fall in or something?” He raised a brow and then his mouth slowly fell open. Pointing in the direction I’d come from, he asked, “Did you just come from the front?”

  I nodded.

  “Why?”

  “It’s none of your business,” I grumbled. I looked around for our waitress and when I caught her eye I waved her over.

  “Yes?” She questioned.

  “I’m not feeling so well. Would you mind bringing me a box?”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  “Thanks,” I said, but she was already gone and didn’t hear the words.

  “Are you really sick?” Emery asked skeptically.

  “I think so. My stomach,” I mumbled.

  I really did feel nauseous, but I knew I wasn’t really sick.

  “I’m sorry I’m such a sucky friend,” I told him. “My treat,” I pulled out a credit card and handed it to the waitress when she breezed by with the box.

  “What? No,” he protested.

  “It’s the least I could do for ditching you.” I put the uneaten food in the box and stood. “Next time,” I pointed at him, “you’re paying.”

  With a laugh, he said, “Deal.”

  The waitress handed me my credit card and I signed the slip of paper.

  Surprising Emery, I wrapped my arms around him in an awkward hug. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” He asked skeptically. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “You’re my friend.” I paused, then added, “I hope.”

  “Of course,” he replied quickly without any hesitation.

  “I know that being my friend is hard. So, thank you,” I repeated.

  I left before he could say anything else.

  I went home to my empty apartment, which seemed even emptier thanks to my cold and shriveled heart, and cried.

  CHAPTER 13

  Sutton

  I’d called in sick to work three days in a row.

  I wasn’t sick though.

  Unless depression counted as an illness.

  Well, I guess it did.

  Telling Memphis the truth had cut me deeper than I expected it to. I guess I really did have feelings for him.

  I knew it was nothing compared to the all-consuming inferno I felt for Caelan.

  Speaking of Caelan, I’d seen a lot of him the past few days while I ditched my adult responsibilities. There hadn’t been much talking involved, which I was perfectly okay with.

  Now, though, I was alone once more. Had been for hours.

  I didn’t like being alone.

  When I was alone, my thoughts wandered far too much. The bad things became real again. It hadn’t been my brightest idea to move so far away from my home, from my life. But that life had been a lie. Nothing about it was real. While my family and the friends I’d grown up with lived in Dallas I was really more alone there than I was now.

  Sitting on the counter sipping the scalding black coffee, I realized that while I wasn’t happy, I was far better off now than I had been.

  Healing was a slow process, and while I hadn’t quite begun, I was almost there.

  I sipped on my coffee, letting my thoughts carry me away. When the coffee was gone, I set the cup in the sink.

  Like a small child, I kicked my legs against the cabinets.

  I was bored and Caelan had been MIA for twelve hours now. I knew he was holed up in his apartment working, he’d told me such when he kicked me out. I didn’t want him to think that now that we were sleeping together that he held some kind of power over me. So, I reached for my iPod, hooked it up to the speaker and scrolled through my songs. I finally settled on one, turned the volume all the way up, and pressed play.

  I couldn’t wipe the evil grin off my face when only seconds later there was a knock on the door.

  As I hopped off the counter and strode across the room, I couldn’t ignore the rush zinging through my veins.

  When I opened the door, he stood there with his arms crossed over his chest in a sleeveless shirt and jeans. His lips were turned up in amusement. He didn’t appear to be angry, almost like he’d been expecting me to do this.

  “You know,” he swirled a finger in the air, “if you wanted me to come over, all you had to do was ask.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he added, “Although, you do seem to love making a lot of noise to get my attention.”

  With a laugh, I grabbed ahold of his shirt and yanked him inside. The door closed with a slam. “I want to make even more noise,” I whispered, my lips brushing against his collarbone. Standing on my tiptoes so I could reach his ear, I continued, “And I need your help to make this noise.”

  “Is that so?” He chuckled, his fingers digging into my hips.

  “Mhmm,” I kissed his neck.

  “I guess I could take a break.”

  “You can most definitely take a break,” I assured him, unzipping his jeans.

  “Eager, are we?” He grabbed ahold of my arms and pulled them away.

  I pouted in frustration. “Always.”

  “You know,” he eased my shirt up and my eyes fluttered closed as his fingers grazed my bare stomach, “I haven’t ever had sex with the same woman as much as I have with you.”

  My eyes came open and I smirked. “Mr. Gregory, should I be honored?”

  “Absolutely,” he winked and I was surprised that he’d just cracked a joke. I didn’t know he had it in him.

  I lifted my arms and he completely removed the top, his eyes perusing my body.

  I couldn’t control the shiver that ran down my spine at the look he gave me—like I was the most delicious dessert he’d ever seen laid before him and he was starved.

  His fingers brushed lightly down the curve of my jaw. My lips parted as a breathy sigh escaped me. I cherished every moment he touched me, because a part of me feared it might be the last. “You’re different.”

  He was right. I was different, but he had no clue how true that statement was.

  I’d already shown him too much—my inner pain and suffering—and I had no plan to open up anymore.

  Secrets were kept quiet for a reason. They had the power to destroy worlds.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. In part, to keep him quiet, and because the man was the best kisser I’d ever had the pleasure of locking lips with.

  He backed towards the bed and I went with him.

  He sank down on its surface with me straddling him. This was the first time I’d had him in my bed. It excited me, like having him here cemented whatever this fucked up arrangement of ours was.

  “My bed. My rules,” I whispered.

  His soft laugh rumbled through my body. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

  Grinning like the cat that ate the canary, I splayed my hands over his chest and looked down at him. “Get ready for a wild ride. I promise it’ll blow your mind.”

  ⌘⌘⌘

  Caelan

  I wasn’t one to linger after sex. It wasn’t in my nature. I didn’t want to cuddle and do the whole, ‘let’s talk about our feelings’ thing. Who the hell has time for that bullshit?

  But what was I doing?

  Lying in bed with my arms wrapped around Sutton and my face buried in her neck. I never wanted to leave and that fact scared me. I was a man of many addictions. Drugs. Alcohol. Art. And now I could add Sutton to that list.

  “You’re not leaving,” she stated.

  I knew she was surprised. It was evident in the tone of her voice.


  The other times, I’d made it clear that when we were done she was to leave. She didn’t seem to mind. Now, here I was in her bed and I was the fucker that didn’t want to move. Go figure.

  “Do you want me to?”

  Please say no.

  “No.”

  She traced a finger down my chest and my eyes closed from the pleasurable touch. Her nail dug in and I hissed.

  “That hurt.” I glared at her.

  “It was meant to,” she giggled, now lightly caressing the area she’d just scratched. Like I needed illegal substances to numb my memories, Sutton needed pain to drown out whatever haunted her.

  Feeling bold, after all, she knew about my family—nosy bitch—I asked, “What happened to you?”

  She stiffened in my arms and started to pull away but I held tight. She wasn’t going anywhere.

  “I know something, or someone, hurt you. You know about my past,” I growled, getting angry at the distant look on her face, “isn’t it fair that I know about yours?”

  “There’s nothing to tell,” she muttered.

  “You’re a really bad liar, Sutton.”

  She sighed heavily, her whole body shaking with it. I knew she wasn’t going to say anything. I might not have been a good guy, but I knew how self-destructive it was to keep painful memories bottled so tight. It slowly ate you alive until there was nothing left but a rotting black hole that destroyed everything you came into contact with.

  In a gesture that wasn’t like myself, I laced our fingers together and held them up, marveling at how amazing something so simple could feel. Her skin was soft and silky, her hand fitting perfectly into mine. “Why don’t you tell me how you got this scar?” I probed, determined to get something out of her. This wasn’t me trying to get to know her. Not at all. This was simply one broken person speaking to another.

  She swallowed thickly and I could practically see heart racing in her chest.

  “Why do you want to know?” She whispered, staring over my shoulder at something so she didn’t have to look at me. “I thought this,” anger laced her tone, “thing we’re doing, was just physical. Don’t act like you want to get to know me when you really don’t.”

  “Who’s to say I don’t want to get to know you.” The confession tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop it.