Unbreakable: A Salvation Society Novel

by Georgia Coffman

  “We drove at least five feet when you thought it was a good idea to open the door and slide out. You couldn’t even stand up straight.” He chuckles. “We could’ve run you over.”

  He sobers when his eyes meet mine.

  The humor in the air gets caught in my throat, almost choking me, and everyone’s curious expressions blur.

  All I can focus on is Aiden.

  I take a sip of wine, watching him over the rim.

  He stares back at me like he’s mesmerized by the way I drink. As though it’s more than merely tilting the glass back against my lips and swallowing the red liquid.

  So, I keep drinking, intoxicated more by him than the alcohol.

  Gulp.

  His gaze flickers to mine, and for these brief few minutes, I remember who we used to be… before he broke my heart.

  “You’re just going to sleep, right? Get some rest?” Dave smooths my hair out of my face as I pull the covers up to my chin.

  “Yes, but I’d like some company. If you leave, I’m going to sit here alone all day.” I watch him expectantly, but he doesn’t budge.

  “What am I going to do while you sleep? My whole trip will be ruined.”

  “Well, it’s not like I got sick on purpose. And I’m not going to sleep all damn day.”

  “Don’t curse at me. You know I’ve been excited about this trip for weeks.”

  “Just go.” I sigh. “Have fun.”

  He kisses my hair, and I don’t miss his cringe when he stands back up, like touching me right now is awful. Although it stings, I don’t blame him, either, since my skin is rather clammy.

  “I’ll check in later. Get some sleep,” he says as he leaves, shutting the door behind him with a resounding click that echoes throughout the room. On the other side, I hear him as he joins the rest of our friends for a day of water parks and drinking and fun—the makings of a memorable Spring Break.

  While I sit with only my fuzzy head and sweaty palms.

  And mindless reality TV.

  As I reach for the remote to turn the TV on, the door to my room creaks open again, and Aiden steps inside.

  “I thought you all left,” I croak, my throat dry, and reach for my juice. “Did you forget something?”

  “No, I just… didn’t want to leave you alone.” He shrugs.

  I take a sip and cringe when I swallow. He pulls at the ends of his short hair and comes around the bed, where he sits on top of the covers. Grabbing the remote from me, he asks, “What’re we watching?”

  Aiden and I spend the day switching from reruns of people completing obstacle courses—completing being an operative term since many of them face plant, belly flop, and even trip over their own feet.

  But we laugh—a lot.

  As the sun sets, I turn to him. “Thanks for staying with me, even though you didn’t have to.”

  “Jersey, I would—”

  The door to the condo opens, and a commotion follows. Our door is open, and Aiden kicks his feet over the edge of the bed, then stands, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I’ll see you.”

  My heart sinks when he turns his pained expression toward me. Thinking he’s just worried about me, I say, “I’ll be fine, you know. It’s only a cold. I’ve had worse.” My lips tilt.

  He nods and steps into the hall where Dave’s voice drifts into my room. “You feeling okay, man? I hope you don’t have what Sage has.”

  “No, I think it was something I ate. Needed to sleep it off. I’m fine now.”

  “Been there, brother. Glad you’re feeling better.”

  Confused, I lean up. Aiden wasn’t feeling well? He didn’t say anything.

  Dave enters my room, a glass of water in his hand. He sets it on the nightstand and sits on the bed next to where I’m curled up. It’s where Aiden was sitting moments ago, and for some reason, my chest squeezes that he’s no longer here.

  “How are you feeling?” Dave touches the back of his hand to my head. “Still warm. Not doing any better?”

  I cough into my elbow. “Not really. When are you going out to dinner?”

  “They’re leaving here soon, but I’m going to stay with you. Maybe we can order in?” He smooths my hair down. “I missed you today.”

  “Me too,” I say absentmindedly and snuggle into his side, repeating more firmly, “Me too.”

  “What do you say?” Aiden points, pulling me out of my long-forgotten memory.

  I follow his finger in the direction of the stage, where a woman in sequined shorts bellows a Spice Girls song—classic. She dances along to it too, like she’s performing a sold-out concert at Madison Square Garden.

  I clap when she’s done—she deserves it—and turn to the group. “I can’t follow that act. I’ll get booed off the stage.”

  The second I finish my wine, Westin waves to the bartender, then points to my empty glass.

  Aiden tenses next to me, and I watch him in my periphery as I thank Westin for my new drink. Odd. “Aiden, why don’t you get up there? If I remember correctly, you sound like Prince.”

  “No, no, no. You are not going to throw that in my face.” Aiden chuckles, shuffling his feet.

  “Please tell us the story. I need good ammo to hold over his head.” Jared rubs his hands together.

  “What were you drinking that night? Maker’s Mark? You won fifty dollars from a scratch-off and wanted, for once, to try an ‘expensive’ whiskey—that was your biggest goal in life.” I roll my eyes, and Westin and Jared raise their beers to Aiden as I continue. “So, you bought a big bottle, drank most of it yourself, then begged us to go out, where you sang karaoke like an angel—in other words, Prince.”

  Aiden’s eyes shine, his lips twitching. “You’re leaving out the part where the ladies melted right at my feet.”

  I throw my head back and laugh, as do the others, especially when Jared fist-bumps Aiden. Even Naomi smiles widely, for once.

  A lightness washes over me that I haven’t felt in a long time.

  The story I just told feels like it happened yesterday, before it all got complicated.

  Right now, Aiden and I are simply old friends.

  After a few more minutes of easy chatter, Aiden orders us a round of shots.

  There’s a pause from the stage as they switch singers, and Aiden sidles up to me again.

  I shake my head as the bartender lines five shots in front of us. “No, no, no. I don’t do shots.”

  “But you’ll need it before you sing.” Aiden nudges me.

  “You insist on me singing as if I haven’t embarrassed myself enough over the years.”

  “I need a reminder.” He shrugs, his expression smug.

  Naomi passes out the shots like they’re our nightly tips. Once she’s done, she holds her hands out, and in a voice louder than I’ve ever heard from her, says, “Wait! We need to toast first.” She taps her chin, tilting her head back, then holds her shot up for us to follow suit. “To the strange workings of this crazy city.” She eyes Aiden and me specifically. “And may all its angry drivers stop rear-ending each other. Anyone want to add anything?”

  “To a successful launch,” Westin offers.

  Jared snorts. “I second that. We have a lot of investors who will hand us our asses if we fail.”

  Westin smacks the back of his head, to which Jared shrugs and peers at Aiden for help.

  “I’m with Westin.” He chuckles, and the sound travels down to my toes.

  I gaze at Aiden’s profile, studying the freckles on his bronzed skin. They’re visible under the dim light from above the bar. Then at his slightly crooked nose—he once told me he broke it when he was a kid because he was running around the pool and slipped.

  I only tear my gaze from him when Naomi yells, “Cheers!”

  We clink our glasses, then toss back the shots like they’re water, and I fight the urge to cough. Fucking whiskey, I grimace.

  “Had to get you back for the whiskey-Prince story,” Aiden whispers in my ear, his lips so
close I can almost feel them. He takes the glass from my hand and sets it on the bar, putting distance between us for only a moment.

  Grabbing my hand, he leads me to the stage as a female trio’s rendition of “Friends in Low Places” comes to an end. They wave to the small crowd like they’re celebrities, and it makes me laugh—these karaoke singers are so into this.

  Once we reach the stage, Aiden yells to the deejay, “She’ll sing anything by Britney Spears, especially ‘Toxic.’”

  “Do I have to?” I cover my face with my free hand.

  “Yes. He’s already trying to find your song.”

  My mouth hangs open as I blink at him. “You’re insane.”

  There’s a glimmer in his eyes. Mischievous. Like he has ulterior motives. And I’m too wrapped up in this strangely thrilling moment in a New York City bar with him to argue further.

  Westin, Jared, and Naomi appear at our sides as I’m about to hoist myself onto the stage.

  “Are you singing?” Naomi sputters, clutching her chest, and holds her drink up. She switched to vodka, which can only mean she’s ready for a wild night. She once told me vodka is her party drink.

  “Sing with me,” I plead.

  “No way.” She pulls her phone out and holds it up. “I have a front-row spot and need to record every second.”

  Without thinking, I steal a sip of her drink, which I don’t imagine she appreciates, and head onto the stage, where the deejay hands me the microphone.

  Once the song begins, I let the buzz from the drinks and this night help me channel my inner popstar.

  I move my hips to the rapid techno tune, walking the few feet from one side of the stage to the other like I’m on a runway. I hold Aiden’s gaze as I transition to the next verse, singing at the highest pitch my voice can go, enjoying this carefree moment in this vibrant city.

  Celebrating this new life of mine.

  Because in my old life, I never felt this… free.

  A small part of me admits that I’m also reveling in Aiden’s stare. His eyes are bright, sparkling like stars in the dark sky. His hair is wild tonight, unlike the tamed bun he donned at our meeting, and his grin is infectious, like the first time we met. When he started calling me Jersey.

  I throw my head back and sing the last note, holding it longer than is necessary, until the music cuts. “Whoo!” I yell into the microphone, then take a bow, and the room erupts with cheers.

  Mostly, it’s Naomi, Jared, Westin, and especially Aiden who cheer.

  Shaking my head, I hop off the stage right into Aiden’s arms as the next song comes on.

  I’m flush against him, so close I can smell his deliciously heady cologne.

  He licks his lips, and I can taste whiskey on mine.

  The music echoes throughout the room, creating an exciting energy, one I feel in every part of my body the longer I stay in Aiden’s arms.

  Without words, he moves his hands to my hips and sways with me, dancing to the beat. The hairs on my neck stand as heat travels the length of my body, every sensitive nerve ending heightened.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know this is Aiden. The guy from my past who hurt me worse than anything else I’ve ever experienced. The one I once cursed and swore I’d never give a single moment to ever again, if by some miracle we’d be in the same room together again.

  But here in the crowd, as he moves his body with mine, it feels different, like the years have forgiven us and made us new people.

  Which they have—we’re both new.

  We’ve changed.

  “You’re glowing,” he says into my hair, then spins me around, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind.

  My back pressed against his chest, I let the wine wash over me like I’m being baptized and sway to the off-key, nasal tune of the next karaoke singer.

  I dance with him, the rhythm coming naturally for both of us. We’re in tune.

  Hot.

  I’m burning up, and my heart skips a beat when he spins me around to face him again, his lips close.

  Enticing.

  I remember what it feels like to be kissed by him as if it happened yesterday. To be consumed. To become drunk from the way his tongue sweeps over mine.

  My eyes flutter closed, and I lean in…

  “There you are.”

  Aiden jumps back, putting space between us like we’re at a middle school dance. He tears his focus from me, dropping his hands from my waist, and greets the woman next to us.

  I blink, and every time he comes into view, the fire that was in his expression disappears until there’s only shame.

  “Raven, you made it.” He hugs her, and when he lets go, she stays close.

  “I got done with my class early and wanted to come hang. I haven’t seen you all week.” She kisses the side of his mouth—the same one I could almost feel on mine a few seconds ago—and my stomach sinks.

  Emotions clog my throat.

  The room spins.

  “Who’s this?” Raven waits for an introduction, both her arms wrapped around Aiden like he’s going to run away.

  She’s claiming him and wants me to damn well know it.

  I meet Aiden’s regretful gaze. His eyes frown in the corners, remaining silent, and my stomach churns further that he can’t even utter my name.

  Clearing my throat, I find my voice. “I’m Sage.”

  “I’m Raven, A’s girlfriend.” Raven points between us. “How do you two know each other?” Her voice and stance are accusatory, tense, and on the offensive.

  We were dancing closely, after all.

  Our lips were close.

  I even leaned in for him to kiss me—I was begging for it.

  But it’s a good thing we didn’t, for more reasons than he has a girlfriend—one who calls him A.

  And not because he’s also a client, either.

  But because I was stupid to forget, for even one night, what he did to me.

  I can’t get lost in him, not again. Not now, after all these years of putting him behind me.

  The painful loss.

  No, if I were to sink into the depths of Aiden Baxter again, I’d completely drown.

  Chapter Six

  AIDEN

  Shit.

  What a clusterfuck.

  Raven eyes me suspiciously. It’s that look she gets while she studies her models, preparing to draw them—searching for any perfect flaws, as she calls them, and any secrets they hide in their eyes.

  She’s searching for the secrets I’m hiding about my relationship with Sage.

  Westin claps me on the shoulder. “I got you another beer, and here’s another wine for the lady.” He hands Sage a glass, and their fingers brush when she accepts it.

  The sight makes me see red.

  What the hell?

  But I’m also thankful that he interrupted us before I could give Raven an explanation. Where would I even begin?

  When it comes to Sage Matthews, I’d need a lifetime to describe our complicated and sordid time in college when I thought we could end up together.

  When I thought she would choose me.

  But she didn’t, and I’ve been trying to live my life as though it didn’t gut me.

  “I’m going to find Naomi.” She raises her glass toward Westin. “Thanks again.”

  “Sage—” My voice is lost in the music as she becomes another bobbing head in the crowd.

  “You didn’t answer my question. Who is she?” Raven drops her hold on me and crosses her arms.

  “Someone I went to school with.” I catch sight of straight honey-colored hair by the bar and head in that direction, calling over my shoulder to Raven, “I’ll be right back.”

  I weave through the crowd, and as I near the bar, Jared stops me. “You have to help me, man. My ex-girlfriend is over there.”

  “Vanessa? The one who set your bed on fire?” My eyes widen, distracted by Sage’s whereabouts. But Naomi is still here, dancing in the middle of a big group on the da
nce floor, and Sage wouldn’t leave without her. Is she in the bathroom? Outside?

  Fuck—where did she go?

  “Yes,” Jared hisses, peering over the bar, then grabs both my shoulders. “She can’t know I’m here, so you and Westin cannot, under any circumstances, get stuck alone with her. She will work her Wiccan magic on you and suck the truth, along with your soul, right out of your body.”

  “We won’t talk to her.”

  He lets go of me and holds his hands up. “On second thought, why don’t we just leave? We can get drinks elsewhere. Better yet, we can go to the office and take care of the two six-packs I put in the fridge yesterday.”

  When he starts to walk toward the door, I pull him back by his T-shirt. “Stay with Westin, and I’ll be right back.”

  “Are you looking for Sage?” Naomi suddenly appears at our side like the crowd gave birth to her, making me jerk back. “What did you do to her?”

  “Nothing,” I say, my voice strained.

  She purses her lips and twists her straw in her nearly empty drink as she studies me. “Who are you? That’s what I can’t figure out. She said you’re a client, but you have stories from college together. Yet, I think there’s even more to this mysterious tale.”

  Naomi narrows her dark gaze at me as she sips the rest of her drink, and a cold air surrounds us, causing a chill down my spine. It’s not Jared’s ex I have to worry about—it’s Sage’s cousin.

  “I have to find her.” I shake myself away from them and rush through the group gathered at the bar. When I exit out the door onto the sidewalk, cold wind hits my face, stinging my cheeks like pricks of needles.

  I turn to my left and right, but there’s no sign of her.

  My stomach rolls as I step around the corner of the bar to the alleyway. The balconies at the apartment building behind the bar each have potted plants on them, and the twinkling lights strung across one balcony to the other cast a dim glow, enough of one for me to recognize the woman underneath.

  Sage leans her back against the wall, clutching her suede jacket around her. When she looks up at me, she’s not the girl who was just singing “Toxic” at the top of her lungs for a crowded room.

  She’s vulnerable.

  “You’re not in a small town anymore. This is New York, and you have to be careful about running off by yourself.” I lean against the wall beside her, and I feel her gaze on me like she’s touching me.