“I love you,” he whispers.
My heart melts into a puddle.
“I love you too,” I say right back.
I feel at peace, like nothing could possibly ruin this. Like nothing could possibly ruin us. I know he just set another one of my records. He just won another award. Not only will no one else ever make me feel the way he does…
I’ve also never loved anyone as much as I love him.
The sound of the shower pulls me out of slumber, and I open my eyes a crack, memories of the previous night resurfacing along with my senses. I catch myself smiling like a fool and suppress a squeal of happiness at the sight of my dress on the bedroom floor. Last night was so out of this world I don’t think I could fully comprehend what the step we took meant. It was like a dream. A blissful, amazing dream. The soreness between my legs finally seems to be enough for the truth to hit me.
We’re together.
Haze is my boyfriend.
My boyfriend who isn’t lying next to me, might I add.
I hear the water running in the bathroom and know that’s where he is. I probably would’ve spent another thirty minutes smiling like a dumbass if it wasn’t for Haze’s phone incessantly buzzing on the nightstand. I eye it and fight the curiosity boiling inside me. On text message number five, I give up.
Five? Seriously? This may be an emergency. I feed myself the excuse I need to capture the phone in my hand and peek. On his locked screen are a few messages. I frown when I read the name of the first sender.
Bianca.
Bianca: Why aren’t you calling me back? Where are you?
Bianca: I don’t believe what you said. We’re not over. You’re just confused.
Bianca: Are you with that Winter bitch? Is that why you left town? She’s not at school either.
Bianca: Haze?! Answer me.
I wince at the texts. She’s right though. He is with me. Poor girl’s talking to herself. It’s been a while since he told her that they couldn’t be friends with benefits if she had feelings for him, but she’s still acting like he broke up with her when they were never together in the first place.
I use my thumb to scroll down to the sixth and final text message. My stomach lurches with nerves when I read the name of the sender. At first, I try to convince myself that I read it wrong. But then I read it again.
And again.
And again.
Riley.
It echoes in my head like a song I hate but still can’t stop singing. Seeing Bianca’s name was nothing… nothing compared to this.
But that’s not the worst part.
Not even close.
The worst part is the text message that comes along with it.
Riley: I’ll see you tonight.
15
Truth And Exes
Haze isn’t the type to take long showers, but for some reason, this one seems to last forever—and by forever, I mean the “I swear this class started an hour ago but the clock says it was five seconds” kind. I draw in a breath when the water stops. The few minutes he spent in there felt like years, and I’ve never been more nervous to see someone walk out of a dang bathroom.
So many questions eat at me.
Why didn’t he tell me that he got in touch with his ex-girlfriend slash possible baby mama? When did that happen? How did he even find her? Is that where he went yesterday? To see her?
Is he cheating on me?
I mean, come on, we haven’t been dating for a whole twenty-four hours yet.
This one is not funny, Universe.
I know I need to confront him if we want this relationship to survive the day. It’s one thing that he might have a kid, but going behind my back to contact his first everything? I don’t think I can take it.
I inhale when Haze turns the corner and walks into the room with nothing but sweatpants on. I watch the water slowly cascade down his pecs. Of course, he has to look like that when I’m about to go off on him.
What? Just because I’m mad doesn’t mean I’m blind.
I make sure to keep my eyes off his body. He smiles at the sight of me sitting on the bed in one of his many black T-shirts. I wasn’t comfortable sleeping naked last night, so he tossed it to me before we passed out. It goes without saying that it’s too big for me, which resulted in him constantly laughing and asking me how many villages I can fit in there.
The smile is slapped off his face when he lowers his eyes to my hand and sees what I’m holding: his phone.
Instantly, he understands.
He knows that I know.
“I was going to tell you,” he says.
I appreciate that he’s not playing dumb.
He walks toward me and sits on the edge of the bed, holding out his hand in my direction to get his phone back. I give it to him, and he reads the unanswered messages on his locked screen.
He completely ignores Bianca’s miserable attempts at getting his attention—like he’s wired to ignore her, like it comes naturally to him—and he scrolls down to the real problem.
“I swear I would’ve told you as soon as I saw her reply. Nothing was official. She hadn’t texted me back yet.” He unlocks his phone and pulls up the text conversation.
It’s true. He’s only sent her one message, and she’s just replied now. His message basically reads somewhere along the lines of “Vic gave me your new number. Said you live in the next town over now. We need to talk. I’d like it if we could meet tomorrow at such place and such time.”
I look up at Haze and ignore all the questions crushing me. He takes my hand. I don’t remove it, but I don’t welcome his touch either.
“So that’s where you were yesterday? You were with Vic?”
“Yeah.” He brushes my palm with his finger. “I just can’t live with the questions anymore. I asked him if he’d heard from her, and he said that she reached out to him a few months ago. He was the only one who knew that she was back. He didn’t want to tell me unless I brought it up.”
“He didn’t want to tell you that the possible mother of your child was back in town?” I arch an eyebrow. “What a good friend.”
“He is a good friend, Winter. He did it for me. I made him promise to never talk about it.”
He made his best friend promise not to bring up this painful period again. Makes me wonder how many other things his friends can’t bring up; how many wounds Haze Adams refuses to open.
“What does this mean?” is all I can bring myself to say.
I’m confident that he can see the doubt in my eyes, and the way he smiles sadly tells me that he can’t provide me with the comfort I need.
“I don’t know.” He sighs. “I’ll know tonight. I didn’t want her to tell me anything over the phone.”
I articulate what he truly meant. “You mean you didn’t want her to tell you that you have a kid over the phone.”
He rubs at the back of his neck, obviously as uncomfortable with the idea as I am. “Yes.”
The fact that this is even an option stirs up a bunch of unexpected emotions in me. Yesterday, it seemed like a distant memory and a problem destined to remain unresolved, but today, it’s here.
Today… it’s real.
“Listen, for all we know she had the abortion and she’s going to laugh at me for wondering all these years.” He squeezes my hand.
“Vic doesn’t know if she had the kid?”
“She didn’t say. She hadn’t talked to him in so long. I guess that’s not something you casually slide into small talk. He said that she was in a rush, too.”
Yeah… in a rush to ruin my life.
I curse myself for feeling this way about her. She doesn’t even know me, but I still feel threatened by her mere existence.
“What would you do if it turned out to be true?”
That scenario doesn’t seem to enchant him, but I know under his tough exterior, he has a big heart. And she’s the first girl it beat for. He’ll deny it, but that means something to him. He’s not fifteen anymor
e. He wouldn’t run… not this time.
“Well… I guess, I’d learn how to be a dad.”
This is real. My first boyfriend, the first person I fell in love with, might have a kid…
I tell myself that it all happened before me. That he had no idea that he’d meet me and that I shouldn’t feel this way, but the truth is, dating someone who has kids with someone else is something you usually experience when you’re older.
Not when your life’s just begun.
“I have to ask”—he looks down—“can you handle it?”
I’m at a loss for words when his eyes meet mine and he stares. Only one question comes to me.
Can I?
“Because… I get it if you can’t.” His voice weakens. “The last thing I want is for you to leave, believe me. But I’ll respect your choice if you do. That’s a lot I’d be asking from you.”
He’s giving me an out right here, right now…
An out that I can’t take unless I know whether or not I need to in the first place.
“How about you save that speech for when we find out the truth?” I muster a small smile and press my lips to the tip of his nose. His entire being seems to relax, his shoulders going from tight and firm to laid-back.
“What were you thinking?” he murmurs, letting me sparkle his face with light kisses.
“What do you mean?”
“I know you. A lot goes on in that stubborn head of yours. What were you thinking when you saw the message?”
“I don’t know. That, maybe… you were picking things up where you left off.”
He shakes his head like I’ve just told him unicorns exist. “You have to understand it’s not her I want to see.”
I know what he means by that.
When he goes there tonight, it’s not to meet her.
It’s to meet his potential child.
“I’m with you, Winter. I’m all in.” He reaches for my hand. “Don’t ever doubt that again.”
“Don’t text your ex-girlfriend behind my back and I won’t.” I give him a smirk that he returns.
“Noted.”
I open my mouth to answer, but the only sound breaking the silence is my empty stomach growling.
“Come on, we’ve got to get some food in you.” Haze smiles, gets off the bed, and pulls me to my feet.
I groan at the effort. It’s too early to move. We didn’t get nearly enough sleep last night. He hooks his arm around my waist and presses his lips to mine. I search for a morning breath but can’t find any.
“Did you brush your teeth yet?” I ask.
“No, why?” He looks a bit amused by my question.
“No reason.”
No big deal. Just one more thing to add to my “proof Haze Adams isn’t human” list.
When my stomach grumbles again, I give up on taking a shower before eating, and we decide to go down to the kitchen for breakfast. I shiver when my feet merge with the cold kitchen tiles. Haze motions to lead the way and—let’s pretend that we’re surprised—smacks my ass really hard when I step in front of him.
“Ouch,” I cry out.
Of course that’s the kind of boyfriend Haze would be.
“Had to. It was calling my name.” He puts his hands up, and I elbow him in the stomach. He pretends that it hurts, holding his stomach in “pain.”
“You’re even more annoying as my boyfriend. Who knew?” I roll my eyes.
He stops dead in his tracks.
He turns around and backs me up into a corner until the distance between us is nothing but a sheer memory.
“What?” I laugh.
“You just called me your boyfriend.” A small smile tugs at his lips
“So?”
“Say it again.” He leans forward.
This giggly look on his face…
I could get used to it.
“What? Boyfriend?”
He nods.
“Boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend. Hazie’s my boyfriend,” I repeat like an annoying child and he laughs.
“You’re damn right I am,” he says, a victorious expression covering his face as his mouth finds mine again. Hands start to wander, and kisses start to linger. Before I know it, he’s throwing me onto the couch and getting on top of me…
Looks like we’re not eating anytime soon.
The familiar sound of the bell hanging above Beck’s front door rings in our ears as we walk into the tiny yet crowded breakfast restaurant. This isn’t new. It’s almost always this packed, but for some reason, today’s worse than the last few times we were here.
After making out for like thirty minutes, we tried cooking but I burned everything I touched, so we opted for the lazy option.
The waitress—who we’ve seen so many times, I’m beginning to wonder if I should learn her name—greets us and displays the same reaction seeing Haze as she always does. Except that, this time, his undeniable sexiness isn’t the only thing she focuses on. This time, she sees something else…
Haze’s hand in mine.
She frowns, and I’m reminded of the little white lie I told her a few days ago.
Right. I told her he was gay.
She looks up at me, and I can feel her disapproving look piercing my skull. Completely unaware of the rather funny moment happening, Haze pulls me closer to kiss my cheek. I can hear her thoughts from here.
Yep, definitely not gay.
She clears her throat. “Table for two?”
Haze nods.
At around the same time, an older man wearing a badge that says “Manager” joins her and grabs something at the front desk.
“Don’t forget to tell them about the promotion, Rita,” he says and quickly disappears back to wherever he came from.
“Are you a couple?” Rita forces a smile.
Man, can this get more awkward?
Haze turns his head to look at me and smiles. “Yes.”
My heart sings in happiness.
She says something about our drinks and any extras being free, but I stop listening halfway. I find a hint of humor in the fact that this complete stranger somehow witnessed key moments of our relationship without even knowing it.
She leads us to our table, but what I see when I turn the corner freezes me in place.
Ryder.
Sitting at a table with a girl.
But seeing him isn’t even what sets me off. It’s what I hear him say to the tall and gorgeous girl that triggers me.
“You deserve so much better than him. He’s a jerk if he doesn’t see the great girl that’s right in front of him.”
No way.
The pained features the girl displayed vanish, and she gives him a faint smile.
“Listen, I’m in town visiting my grandparents, and I just happen to have two passes for the fair. Would you be interested in joining me?”
Oh, this is going to be good.
My hand abandons Haze’s, and he stops walking. He sees what I’m looking at and clenches his fists. He wants to go over there. I place a gentle hand on his chest to stop him.
“It’s fine. I’ve got this,” I say, and he nods faintly.
I take all the nonexistent courage I have and walk toward Ryder’s table. His new conquest sees me coming. He has no idea that I’m about to destroy his miserable attempt at picking up sad girls.
“Really?” I intentionally raise my voice to get the attention of the people around us. Heads quickly turn. “This is what you do to me? After everything that we’ve been through? You cheat on me. Is this all five years is worth to you?”
The seductive smirk is washed off his face.
“What about the baby?”
His jaw hangs, and a wave of gasps runs around the room.
Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh.
“She’s crazy. I only went out with her once, I swear,” he stutters, and I see Haze pressing his clenched fist to his mouth to stop himself from bursting out into laughter.
“Let me guess, he r
andomly sat with you, offered to buy you breakfast, then told you that he had two free passes to the fair? That’s how it all started for me, too. I did everything for you. Do you still have self-esteem issues? Is that why you’re doing this? I told you size does not matter.”
The second round of gasps hits us, and it hurts not to laugh. Every eye in the restaurant, without exception, is on us. The brunette’s face twitches in disgust, and she gets up, grabbing her glass of water and throwing its content in Ryder’s face. She walks away, rushing out of the restaurant while Ryder just sits there, soaked, with his mouth wide open. I smile widely and walk back to Haze, who can barely breathe as he howls with laughter. That’s when we see the owner, Rita’s father, speed walking toward us. Haze and I exchange glances.
We are so kicked out.
“You are no longer welcomed in here, and we will make sure not to serve you if you come back.” That’s what the very angry man spat before showing us the door. We were kind of bummed out because we were starving and Beck’s is a nice place, but we quickly rebounded—and upgraded, to be honest—by picking another restaurant.
I didn’t dare ask Haze if his father owned parts of the restaurant we chose, but the way the staff treated him answered my question.
Everybody in Colton Gate knows he’s the Adams kid. They probably think that he could ruin their business with just one bad comment to his father.
“When’s your date with Riley?” I play with the strings of my sweater and lean back into my seat.
“You know it’s not a date,” he corrects me.
“Yeah, yeah, what time?”
He glances at the clock on his car dashboard. “Four thirty.”
It’s almost time. Only fifteen more minutes. We’ve been driving around town with no direction for a few hours. We spent the afternoon singing along to random songs on the radio and discussing topics that are probably way too dark for such a beautiful day. The conversation went from “What’s your favorite holiday?” to “What’s the point of life?” and “What was the first guy who thought it’d be a good idea to drink what came out of a cow thinking?”
Unspoken Rules Page 14
