Fragments Of You, page 17
I try to hide the tears blinding my vision and shift to move. “Sorry.”
“No. Don’t get up. Nora, right?” The toe of his high top Jordan drags against the floor with the step he takes.
Nodding, I ball my body in tight when he sinks down to sit across from me.
He tilts his head. “I saw you come in here.”
“Through all that commotion?” I dab at my eyes, my brows coming together. “You saw me?”
His eyes widen. “You walked right past me. Didn’t you see me?”
I shake my head. “No-no, I didn’t. I’m sorry.”
“No.” He waves his hand in the air. “It’s all good. I just noticed you looked upset, so I wanted to check on you.” He nods up at me. “Everything cool with you?”
The question makes my heartbeat stop, and my brows raise. “Why are you checking on me? You don’t even really know me.”
Dark eyes flash with what looks like a mix between a smile and understanding as he smirks. “I know you hang out with Bentley, so we’re not total strangers, right?”
Bentley. I can’t even hear the name without it causing a massive sting in every available space of me. My fingers clasp together, and my head drops.
“You, uh, want to talk about it?”
My head bounds up, and I’m flooded with a dark gaze, naturally bronze skin, and jet black hair—the opposite of everything Bentley is, and right now, I desperately want that.
Chewing on the inside of my cheek, my shoulders curl inward. “Maybe there’s not really anything I want to talk about, but more like forget.”
“Really?” He casually extends one leg out, leaving his other leg up to prop his forearm on it. “I’m pretty good at helping with that.” Something about the crooked smirk he gives me lessens the sting. “What do you want to forget?”
Breath snags in my throat. I can’t mention Bentley, but maybe I don’t have to. “Can I ask you a question?” I curl myself in tighter, heart drumming in my throat. “If it makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to answer it.”
He laughs. The sound is dark and smooth, and I kind of like it. “First things first, nothing makes me uncomfortable.” He grants me that crooked grin once more. “Try me and fire away.”
It takes me a moment to summon the courage, but after what feels like too long, my brows furrow, and I dare to ask the question I’ve always been dying to ask Bentley. “Am I…attractive?”
His eyes droop like he’s bored, and his broad shoulders lurch. “What kind of a question is that? You don’t know?”
“Please.” A tremor hits my vocal cords. “Just answer the question.”
“Tell you what.” A shiver runs up my spine when his dark eyes drag down to my mouth, and his voice goes dry, “Instead of hearing it from my mouth, why don’t you come back to my place and find out my answer.”
Those words—the sensual way he says them—it’s a defibrillator to my heart and soul. My tears stop, and I lock eyes with him. A strange mixture of exhilaration and guilt passing through me as I sink into his darkness. I swallow past the knot in my throat and nod, giving him my answer that sounds just as dry as his. “Okay.”
He smiles, extends his hand, helps me off the floor—and then we leave.
Chapter 20
Bentley
I’m leaving the gym, freshly showered. For the first time, there’s a lightness in my shoulders and more of a sharpness to my step. No, I haven’t returned Nora’s phone calls, but that’s only because of my uncertainties. The debate of how to approach her and discuss what happened remains an unsettled one.
I don’t know what to do, so I’m sleeping on it, a lot. I’m looking at the stars again too, hoping that they’ll give me some kind of answer.
Stargazing is on my mind when I go into Tanka’s Coffee Shop, a local place that I’m pretty sure my family has kept in business all this time. My family loves this place and its quiet downtown location. I’m not going to rag on their daily visits, because I love it too. This is the only coffee place I visit when I come home, and since it’s late, I’ll be getting a decaf.
The bell at the top catches against the white door and chimes, announcing me. The front is deserted. I look past the serving counter, toward the back, trying to spot the owner. “Tanka?”
“Yep!” Her voice travels from the back room. “I’ll be right with you, Bentley.”
“No problem.”
I pace around for a moment, observing the odds and ends she keeps supplied here.
Aprons, spatulas, specialty pouches of soup mixes, coffee cups with quirky sayings. Her shop has a nice flair. The black and white checkerboard tiles, adding to the unique niche she’s created.
I glance over my shoulder when the bell goes off.
A woman steps in, possibly close to my age, and boy, it looks like she’s about to pop at any moment. I try not to make assumptions about the state of women, but she’s obviously pregnant—like she could have her baby here, pregnant. She’s also kind of unkept. Her hair is tossed up in the worst bun I’ve ever seen, and she’s donning raccoon eyes that I doubt are from having a long night of getting laid—more than anything, they look like they’re from crying.
Giving her a quick smile, I flick my eyes away. My attention returns to the various goods on the shelves. I tink my finger against a white ceramic bowl, wondering if Mom would like it.
“Oh my gosh. Bentley?”
My gaze snaps up.
She walks over and stands in front of me—her gaze blatantly roves my torso, and I’m not even going to lie––she looks mesmerized while taking me in. Her eyes are wide as she sucks in a breath. “You uh…” Pink climbs in her cheeks, and her mouth falls open. “You ummm. Wow. You look great.”
“Why, thank you.” The compliment is nice, but I have no fucking idea who this is. I feel bad for needing to be reminded, but playing along won’t make this any better. I give her my softest smile. “I’m sorry. What was your name?”
The crimson that was in her cheeks drains. She goes pale. “You…you don’t remember me?” She tilts her head, shifts her eyes to the side, and bites down on her lower lip.
Oh fu-
I’d know that motion anywhere. My eyes widen. Shock and horror unite in my blood then dump into my heart. The sensation forces me back a step. “Oh my God.” My voice sounds stunned, but there’s nothing I can do to change it.
When she locks eyes with me, I know I’m right. They’re deep blue. Like I remember.
My throat constricts, and I struggle to swallow before saying her name. “Ivy?”
Chapter 21
Nora
My fingers are tangled in Rich’s midnight-colored locks, his lips are on mine, and his tongue is dipping into my mouth in soft strokes. He has my back pinned against the counter of his darkened kitchen. His tall frame looms over me, and from the moans he’s making, I take it he’s enjoying this.
He’s doing everything right, so I should be enthralled.
But I’m not.
Every time his lips envelop mine, all I can think of is Bentley and how perfectly he commanded my mouth—how he left my lips on fire with every connection he made. Each taste of Rich’s beer and tobacco leaves me wishing it was the heavenly combination of faint whiskey and strong mint, and the way my neck cranes back to accommodate Rich is wrong.
I squeeze my eyes closed harder, wishing the truth flooding through my mind would go away, but I know it’s not going anywhere. I finally collapse into it.
I’m not made for this person.
After being fitted against Bentley, Rich grinds on me like a puzzle piece that’s almost right, but not quite. There’s a gap between us, and Rich can’t close it. Damn it. The realization twists deep in my soul—I’ll never spark for him, the way I did for Bentley—never meld or yield to this man after a simple touch or smile. The way my heart pounded when Bentley called me beautiful—so hard, I thought my ribcage would smatter—Rich will never be able to attain that.
I’m sick over the awareness. Bile climbs up my throat while trying to accept that I’ll never experience Bentley again.
A new shard of my heart fragments off.
Why did he have to ruin me for other people? Why did he have to possess me? Was it not enough for Bentley to have my mind? He was always there, haunting me, even when I tried to forget him. Wasn’t that enough? Did he have to take my heart too? Take it only to ribbon it to shreds?
Rich groans, disrupting my thoughts, and how wrong this man is make me flinch. My fingers clench into his shirt. He moans again, but it’s not the sound I want. A chasm splits open in my chest, and tears spill out my eyes.
At first, Rich doesn’t notice, he groans long and deep, but when my lips go lax against his, he slows the pace.
I try to hold back a sniffle and fail.
He goes still and pulls away. “Hey, sweet thing.” A frown paints over his face. “Everything good?”
I try to look down. Crying over another man has embarrassment blooming through my body, but he won’t give me the chance.
Rich cups my face in his hands and forces my attention. “Nora, if you’re not comfortable doing this––”
“No, I’m enjoying it. Really.” The lie releases a massive ache. It kneads into my heart, embedding itself before traveling up my throat. I clamp down on my mouth, desperate to bite back the sob trying to escape. I’m not successful––it still slips out.
Rich’s brows wrinkle, and his eyes soften. “Oh, Nora…”
I jerk my head away, just in time to hide the onslaught of tears pouring out of my eyes, shame cutting through me head to toe as I cover my face with my hands. It shouldn’t be like this. But it is. One more sob, and I clutch onto the countertop, bawling.
“Holy fucking shit.” Rich comes up from behind. His two large hands rub up and down my arms. “You poor thing. Come here.”
Shaking my head, I try to reach behind me, hoping to reassure him that there’s no need to comfort me.
Either he’s not taking the hint, or he doesn’t understand, because his broad chest presses against my back, and his hands massage up and down my arms. “Nora, I mean it. It’s alright to cry. Let me hold you.”
Hold me. Not kiss me. The soft way he says it quells my tears, stopping the sensation that I’m drowning in my grief. I sniffle and wipe at my cheeks. “I… I’m so sorry. If you want, go on––”
“God, no.” He spins me around and grabs onto my shoulders. “I mean, you’re hot and I do want this, but…” Scanning intently over my face, he sighs. A calloused thumb smoothes over my cheek as he frowns. “I’m no white knight, so I don’t know why I feel so protective right now, but taking advantage of you seems wrong.” The corners of his eyes crinkle. “We don’t have to kiss anymore. We don’t have to do anything.”
I put my hand over his and try to smile. “Thank you.” My voice is weak.
“Man.” He shakes his head. “I’ve never seen a girl so broken-hearted.” His brows come together, his eyes tightening. “Can I ask what happened?”
Apprehension sets heavy in my stomach. I’m debating if I should mention Bentley or not. A huge voice tells me it’s best to leave him unnamed, while a small one taps at the back of my head, warning me it’s better not to say anything at all. I’m not sure what to do, so I look at the floor and frown.
The memory of Bentley—the wound that I thought was icing over, melts all over again and cuts me afresh, somehow deeper than before. My eyes wet, and a whimper escapes.
“Holy shit.” Rich sweeps me in his arms, crushing me against him. “God, I wish I could help you. I don’t know why I wish that––I just do.”
Clinging to his shirt, my shoulders shake with each sob. “Thank you, Rich.” I pat gently at his stomach. “You’re a good person.”
He huffs, making his chest compress against my ear. “No. I’m not, Nora.” His low voice rumbles deep in my ear. “I’m a rotten, awful bastard who doesn’t give a fuck about female feelings. But this? Watching you sob while kissing me––holy fuck it’s sad. I always said I’d never find a woman who had a heart, but I guess I was wrong. ” Air compresses out of me when he holds me tighter. “This one time, let me help more than I hurt. Go ahead, sweet thing.” His large hand smooths over the top of my head. “Go ahead and cry on me tonight. Use me.”
So I do.
I cry in his arms.
I cry until I fall asleep.
Chapter 22
Bentley
My heart is in my stomach—thunking so fucking hard I feel the vibrations in my feet. I haven’t said anything besides Ivy’s name since I don’t know exactly what I should say. And I’m also not reacting how I expected. Yes, I’m shocked to see her, and that word is the understatement of the year, but…
After all these years, I thought the sight of Ivy again would break me and crumble me into dust—reminding me that I failed in making her love me.
I was wrong.
The only failure I see is Ivy, with her bloodshot puffy eyes. She truly looks miserable.
“Uh—”
My spine stiffens at the sound of her voice.
Her eyes trail up and down my body once more, resting on my pecs for too long.
I grimace. I should have worn a different shirt. This one is skin-tight.
“It’s really good to see you again.”
“Is it?”
Her eyes go wide at the cold tone of my voice. It even surprises me, but I’m not going to apologize for it.
She ducks her head and nods. “After all these years—” Her voice fades off for a sec. Her lips screw up in a tight smile, and she tries to make eye contact again. “Seeing you makes me so happy. My wish must have come true.”
All I do is raise my brows while a deadened stare glazes over my eyes. If this is her idea of complimenting or expressing regret, she’s more shallow than I ever realized. I fold my arms across my chest and take a step back. “When are you due?”
Her breathing rattles, and she looks down at her stomach. “Three weeks.”
“Yeah.” I nod, ice forming around the edges of my heart. “It looks like it.”
“Hey!” For the first time since she’s seen me, fire sparks in her dark blue gaze. She scowls. “Don’t be like that. You’re ruining a good moment.”
“A good moment? What are you expecting here, Ivy?” I hunch up my shoulders. “You’re going to tell me I look good and think that will be enough to pacify everything that happened?” One of my brows arch. “Are you really expecting me to accept you with open arms while you stand here and try to bullshit your way around what you did?”
“It always worked before.” She looks away—tearing her eyes away to the wall. “You were always easy to appease.”
“Before you fucked the whole town, sure. I guess I was.”
A wince pulls at her puffy features. “You’re being mean.”
“No. I’m acting exactly how I should.” My blood heats the longer I stand here and watch Ivy try to sweep past the pain she put me through. “You’re irrational. You’re waltzing in here without even so much as an apology and trying to butter up to me with half-assed compliments. That won’t work, Ivy.”
“I’m happy to see you.”
“What you did was wrong. If you were a decent human being, the first words out of your mouth would have been that you were sorry, not that I look good. I don’t need you to tell me that.” I smirk. “I know I look good.”
Her eyes flick to the floor. “After all this time, I don’t know how to address what happened, so I thought––”
“You thought sucking up to me would do the trick?” I scoff, disgust roiling in my blood.
“Why not?” she shrugs. “You always liked compliments. That’s how I kept you around. Seems like you’ve changed.”
A growl leaves my throat. “Thank God I did. If anything, just to resist your bullshit.” Anger and fury boil away in my gut, getting hotter the more she spews out her twisted words. I move for the exit.
“When did you become so bitter?” Tears stream down her cheeks, but they look fake as hell. “Don’t you care about how you made me feel?”
“How I made you feel?” I examine her face, and take note of the permeant sneer affixed to her features. It’s so different from what it used to be.
Or is is?
Perhaps it was always this jaded and cruel looking, but I was blind. I step back, shaking my head. “You’re seriously heartless. You know that?”
“Am I?” She eyes me up and down, coldness rippling in her baby blues. “Maybe you’ve just grown an ego because you think you look halfway hot, and you’ve forgotten how I can make you feel.”
“Unbelievable.” Repulsion swirls up my spine. “I can tell you how you made me feel––like trash that was kicked aside. Like I meant nothing. Like my heart was ripped out and hacked apart while it was still beating. And fuck you for that. Fuck you for making another human feel like he isn’t enough.”
“Weak,” she mutters under her breath.
It should slice through my existence, and knock down my pride a few notches––but I’m done letting Ivy drip an ounce more of emotion out of me.
I squint. “Thanks for proving what Lena told me the other night.”
“What’s that?”
“That you’re an awful person.” I slide past her and move for the exit. Screw getting coffee tonight.
“You’ll never get over me, you know.” Her voice rings out like a bull horn in the shop. “I was your first, and you don’t get over that. You’ll regret not taking me back.”
The bell catches on the door as I yank it open. I pause long enough to look over my shoulder. “Sorry, sweetheart.” A sneer twists across my mouth, and my painful past slams shut for good. Ivy doesn’t know it, but all she’s done tonight is heal me. The shackles she left me with have dropped off and fell into an abyss thanks to her ugliness. “I learned how to live without you a long time ago. You taught me how to do that.”
