Wild Collision, page 28
“Is that you, Hollis?” she asks, squinting dramatically. “Your momma said you were back when she got here this morning but I didn’t believe her.”
“I’m back, but not for long.”
She clucks her tongue. “Shame. Well, is your order still the same? Fresh squeezed orange juice and five cinnamon pancakes?”
“You got it, Alice.”
She taps her pen against her notepad. “It’s good to see you, Hollie.”
I groan. “I hate that damn nickname,” I grumble.
She grins. “Why do you think I like using it? I’ll get this put in for you.”
I wave at my mom behind the counter and she waves back. I couldn’t stand being stuck in the trailer by myself, and there wasn’t anywhere else to go.
Alice drops off my orange juice and I take a sip. It’s as good as I remember.
A few people come in and out, picking up orders or staying to eat a meal.
“Well, well, well look what the cat dragged in.”
I look up at the sound of the voice. “Callie,” I chuckle, as Cannon’s younger sister Calista makes her appearance.
“My brother said you were in town. I thought he was lying.”
She slides into the booth across from me.
“Take a seat,” I say sarcastically.
“I did,” she retorts, sticking her tongue out.
She’s five years younger than Cannon and me. At twenty she acts more like sixteen at times. I think it comes from growing up and chasing after the four of us.
“I heard you like to send your brother dick pics.”
She busts out laughing. “Anytime some dude sends me a dick pic I forward it his way. I can’t help it.”
“You get a lot of dick pics?” I raise a brow. “You know Cannon would be pissed if he knew that’s what it was.”
“Versus what? Random peen off Google.” She waves a dismissive hand. “I can handle myself. Now tell me, why are you back here? Out of all of you, I figured you were the one who’d never come back.”
“Not Rush?” I retort.
Her eyes grow sad. “I didn’t think he’d come back either.”
“I wanted to see my mom,” I tell her honestly. “How are your parents?”
“Marty and Debra are great.” I give her a look. “Dad and Mom are great—better?”
“Much,” I say, studying her. She looks the same as I remember, only a little older. She has the same dark hair and green eyes as Cannon, but where he’s big and muscular she’s short and curvy.
Alice delivers my order to the table along with an order for Calista.
“I’m not buying your breakfast,” I tell her.
She pretends to pout. “Not even for your favorite not-really-yours little sister?”
“Nope,” I laugh.
She shakes her head. “Always such a jerk.”
“Always so nosy,” I counter.
“True, true,” she says, unrolling utensils from the napkin wrapped around them. She takes a bite of her eggs and says around a mouthful, “But you all love me.”
“Actually, we find you annoying as shit,” I joke.
“Ha, ha, ha,” she fake laughs. “Oh,” she says, and reaches for her bag. She pulls out an envelope and slides it across the table to me. “Make sure and give that to my brother—when he goes to open it record that shit and send it to me.”
“What’d you do?” I ask, reluctantly taking the envelope.
She shrugs nonchalantly. “Nothing too bad. Promise. It’ll be hilarious, though.”
I glance down at the envelope. “It’s not going to … explode is it?”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m the stupid one?” I retort.
“One time—one fucking time,” she holds up one finger, “I thought I had a penis. I was two. You have to let it go.”
“No, never happening.”
She groans.
“You asked to see mine,” I continue.
“Oh my God.” She covers her face. “Again, I was two.”
“You still asked.”
She picks up her plate. “I’m going to another table.”
“Aw, come on. You know I’m only kidding.”
She shakes her head. “One brother by blood—but I have three more I didn’t ask for.”
“At least you don’t torment all of us like you do Cannon.”
She grins and settles back down. “Only because you three would get a kick out of it, but Cannon is such a fucking control freak he gets all worked up over everything. He makes it way too easy and fun to mess with him.” She takes a bite, chews, and swallows before continuing. “Honestly, he acts like the kind of guy who wears slacks, button ups, and ties to work. Not covered in tattoos and piercings.”
“Hey,” I shrug, raising my hands, “looks can be deceiving.”
“Yes, they can be,” she agrees. “Now tell me, why are you really back here?”
“I told you—to see my mom.”
“What’d you fuck up so bad you had to come running back to mommy?”
“I fell in love.”
“You?” She snorts in disbelief. At my look she adds, “Oh my God, you’re serious. You fell in love?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened?”
“I fucked up, like you figured.”
“Did you cheat on her? Sell nude pictures of her? Kiss her best friend?”
“No, not any of those.”
“Then I can’t see what could possibly be so bad.”
“I got in between her and her dad. I won’t let her choose me over her family.”
She pauses with a forkful of food halfway to her mouth. “Why is it you think you’re not worth loving?”
“I … I don’t know,” I whisper.
“If you love her, and she loves you, that’s all there is to it. None of the other shit matters. It’ll all work out given enough time.”
“I don’t have time,” I confess.
She levels me with a look like she wants to smack me for being an idiot. “Then make time.”
I mull over her words.
In my life, loving another, someone who wasn’t family, or a friend, has been a fleeting whisper. Something I knew existed but I could never seem to grasp. Then Mia came along. She wasn’t a whisper, but a roar. A roar I felt all the way to my bones, shaking me to my core, utterly changing everything I’ve ever known and ever been.
I can’t give her up. I won’t.
I have to go back.
For my girl.
For me.
For us.
39
Mia
He’s not coming back.
That certainty feels like a cinderblock tied around my ankle pulling me under.
He’s been gone a week, gone back to L.A., back to a life which doesn’t include me.
I work, going through the motions, with Kira at my side. But my head and my heart is somewhere else—with someone else.
She keeps telling me one day it won’t hurt so much—but she doesn’t realize that’s what I’m afraid of. I’m terrified of one day waking up and my first thought not being of his whiskey colored eyes or rain shower smell. I’m scared of moving on, for the feeling of not having him to become normal.
I’ve read the card he left for my birthday more times than I care to admit. His written words proof of how real what we had was—is. How he can walk away from it, from me, makes no sense in my muddled brain. If I left him it would feel akin to losing a limb. He’s become such a vital piece of my life. I love him and he loves me, it’s a truth that can’t be denied. No matter what was said and done it can’t erase our love like it’s insubstantial. Love doesn’t work like that—it’s the most powerful emotion to exist and can’t be brushed aside like a pathetic falling feather.
“Can you stop frowning?” Kira begs. “You’re going to get wrinkles.”
“I don’t care,” I grumble.
Sadly, I don’t care about much of anything at the moment.
She huffs out a sigh and doesn’t say much more.
I’m sure she’s getting irritated with me, but it’s only been a week and I need more time to move on. A week can’t erase everything I felt and experienced with him.
I still can’t believe he’s actually gone. Pathetically, I keep expecting him to walk in the door and order a sub, or to show up at my place with French fries, and every time he doesn’t I hurt even more.
I hate this hurting. I hate the aching.
But I take it, because it was real, and this pain is even more proof of how real it was.
* * *
“You’re coming to my place, we’re putting on something sexy, and we’re going out,” Kira demands, dragging me to her car and away from mine.
“Kira,” I whine, trying to tug out of her hold. “I really don’t want to go.”
“Nope,” she refuses. “You are not going back to your place to mope. You’ve done enough moping.”
“I really haven’t,” I grumbled. “I think I have a month or two, maybe even longer, of moping left in me.”
She rolls her eyes and opens her passenger door, all but stuffing me inside.
She gets in the driver’s side and I don’t bother trying to make a run for my car. I’d only look pathetic and she’d drag me back anyway.
“We’re going to go out, get shit-faced drunk, and find you a man.”
“No,” I say forcefully. “I’ll let you take me out, I might even have a drink or two, but I’m not taking anyone home.”
She sighs. “Whatever, as long as you go out I’ll be happy and cut you some slack.”
She won’t, but I don’t feel like arguing with her.
It doesn’t take us long to get to her place. She shoves me in her bathroom and orders me to shower, claiming I smell like donkey ass.
When I come out she’s already changed into a skimpy red dress and has one equally as skimpy waiting for me. It’s white, not as tight as hers, but sexy nonetheless.
“Get dressed,” she orders. “Then I’ll do your hair and makeup.”
I do as she says, forgoing a bra since with the low back there’s no way I can wear one. She ties it in the back for me then forces me down in her desk chair. She dries my hair and then curls it in loose voluminous waves. When my hair is done she moves on to makeup. She does a soft smoky eye and a light pink lip.
“Innocent, but sexy,” she says, stepping back and admiring her handiwork.
“Are you done?” I ask.
“Nope, not yet.” She grabs a bottle of perfume and I cough as she spritzes me. “Now, you’re ready.”
She grabs my hands and hauls me out of the chair. “Put this on and we’re going—oh and these too.” She hands me a long dress coat and a pair of heels.
By the time we leave her place it’s after eight, and I know she won’t be satisfied unless we stay out until at least one—which I’m not doing.
The drive to the club takes forever, literally, since we have to go into the city. By the time she parks I’m already counting down the hours in my head until it’ll be acceptable to leave.
“Give me your keys,” I tell her.
“Why?” she asks, but hands them over.
“Because, I’m not getting shit-faced but knowing you, you will. I’ll drive us home.”
She frowns. “But tonight is about you.”
I shake my head. “No, Kira, it’s about you. I told you I didn’t want to go.”
She frowns. “I’m a shitty friend, aren’t I?”
“No, you’re not. You … this is how you’d want to be cheered up, but not me.”
She bites her lip. “Do you want to go home then? I feel bad now.”
I shake my head. “We’re already here, we might as well try to have some fun.”
I follow her inside, we check our coats , and then she heads straight for the bar. She orders us shots and I take one to be a good sport but have no intentions of having any more.
I hop up on an empty stool and before Kira can sit down a guy is already asking her to dance.
She gives me a look.
“Go,” I encourage. “Have fun.”
She flashes a smile and let’s herself be pulled into the crowd.
“Pining over someone?” I turn at the sound of the voice to find a guy a little older than me sitting on the stool to my left nursing a beer.
“Uh…”
He smiles. “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to hit on you. I am too—pining that is,” he sighs.
“It’s not fun.”
“No, it isn’t. I’m Jake, by the way.”
“Mia,” I reply.
“Nice to meet you, Mia.”
“Likewise.”
The bartender comes over and asks if we need anything.
“A water please.”
“Designated driver?” Jake asks me when the bartender moves away to get my glass of water.
“Self-imposed designated driver,” I laugh. “I’m not much of a drinker. Or a partier. Or … honestly I’d rather be home sleeping right now.”
He chuckles. “You and me both. That was my friend who dragged yours away. Apparently they both thought to get us out and distract us from our broken hearts—only it’s them who is having fun.”
The bartender hands me water and I drink down half of it, hoping to get rid of the liquid fire taste of the shot.
I’ve probably been sitting there an hour, maybe longer, chatting with Jake when he says, “Do you want to dance?” I make a face. “Just dance,” he adds. “That’s not code for anything else.” He cracks a grin. “What do you say?”
I mull it over and nod. “Yeah.”
He stands and I take his hand letting him pull me into the crowd.
It’s a fast song, but I do my best to keep up with the beat, and honestly … it feels pretty damn good to let loose, to not think about Hollis, or how much I hurt, to just be.
* * *
“In you go.” I practically shove a drunk Kira into the passenger seat of her own car. I swear when she’s drunk she weighs three times her normal weight.
Across the lot Jake is doing the same with his friend. He waves and I raise my hand.
He offered me his number.
I declined.
The last thing I need right now is a rebound. I need to focus on myself.
When I slide in the driver’s seat Kira is already passed out snoring. I turn the radio up and crack the window so cold air blows in to keep me awake during the drive.
There’s little to no traffic so it doesn’t take nearly as long as usual to get from the city to home. I drop her off at her apartment, basically dragging her up the stairs.
I leave a note, letting her know I’m driving her car to my place since I don’t feel comfortable walking the streets this late and that I’ll bring it back tomorrow and we can go pick up my car and get breakfast.
Parking in front of my apartment building I turn the car off but sit there for a few minutes, looking at the snow covering the ground, now dirty and gross, and the streetlights which normally look magical to me now seem to be just something in the way.
I hate being so mopey. It’s not me. I always bounced back quickly from my previous relationships because I didn’t love them—yeah those relationships made me weary of pursuing others, but I didn’t feel this deep yearning ache in the center of my chest like I do now.
Feeling like this … it sucks. I want to rant and rage, but I know it’ll do no good. No matter how much I cry or scream it won’t bring Hollis back.
I chose him.
I chose him over my father, over my family, but in the end he didn’t choose me.
The car grows icy since I turned the engine off, no heat blowing in my face. With reluctance I get out and head inside.
I open the door and startle at the golden light flickering inside.
Puzzled, I stare at all the candles lit throughout the space—on the counters, on the floor, on shelves, the coffee table, and even the windowsill. They’re everywhere.
Without turning around I close the door behind me. I don’t lock it, though I don’t imagine many robbers break in and light candles.
“Hello?” I call out.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
I gasp as Hollis steps out of the shadows. He looks exactly as I remember, why I expect him to have changed in a week is beyond me—maybe it’s because I feel so different.
“You’re … you’re here. In Winchester. In my apartment. I thought you were in L.A.?”
The golden light of the hundreds of candles flickers over his face. “I didn’t go back to L.A. I went to see my mom. I … I needed to see her. I suppose I needed to talk to someone who was my family, who felt like home … like you do to me. She reminded me of things, and an old friend too. You know, I’ve struggled with thinking I don’t deserve you, that because of the way I’ve acted in the past I’m not worthy of you, but I also know no one will ever love you the way I love you. Wholly. Completely. You’re it for me Mia. I’m sorry I let what happened with your dad drive me away. I guess I … No, I know I was terrified one day you’d either regret me or you’d choose him over me, and I couldn’t live with either option so I removed myself from the equation.”
I close the distance between us and shove his shoulders, tears clouding my vision. “Why?” I raise my voice. “Why couldn’t you talk to me? To listen?”
“I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “Fear. Weakness, I guess.”
“I needed you, and you left.”
“I know.” His eyes close and when they open I see pain there. Pain I’m sure he can see reflecting in my eyes as well. “I’ll never forgive myself for it either. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. I was an idiot.”
“Yeah, you are an idiot,” I tell him.
“Are you angry with me?” he asks softly.
“I wish I was,” I confess. “But I love you too much.”
He reaches out and cups my cheek. I swallow past the lump in my throat and lean into his touch.
“You’re real,” I breathe.
He chuckles. “Yes, baby I’m real.”
