All The Letters I'll Never Send You: An Enemies-to-Lovers Duet (Handwritten & Heartbroken Duet Book 1)

by Ace Gray

  “Sort of.”

  “How many times am I going to have to guess, Mina?”

  “Hey, Courtney.”

  My heart slams painfully in my chest before the word no wads up in my throat. It’s that damnable voice.

  “James?” Her eyes go wide as she looks up to the man standing beside our table. “Hi. How are you? I had no idea you were here?” Her voice turns up in question as her eyes dart to mine. I shrug.

  “Mina doesn’t seem to be overly talkative these days.” His voice is definitely not as playful when he references me as it was when he said hello to Court.

  Matter of fact, the layers of accusation inside it wipe away the small bit of forgiveness I’d managed to give myself. I want to run. To anywhere. I want to lose myself in crap decisions all over again.

  “You two already saw each other?” Her eyes move a little too quickly from him to me and back again.

  “Yup.” I pop my P.

  “What brings you to Pyramid Peak?” Courtney tries to diffuse the tension.

  “A tournament.” His eyes dart to mine for a minute. “And a job.”

  “What?” I spit out.

  “What do you mean, what?” He shifts toward me.

  “You’re getting a job here?”

  “With any luck.” His crooked smile tugs on his cheek as he raises long fingers up, crossed.

  I have no answer. No motor skills either. Instead I stare at my coffee cup while Court manages polite conversation with him. The realization that I could see him every day is trying to wallop me, but I won’t let it filter into my brain. Not really. I swat at it, desperately. I make myself remember the finer details of last night, even if they make me want to heave.

  “Oh my God.” Courtney slaps me under the table to shake me from my thoughts. Or my thoughts about not having thoughts. “James is here?”

  I purse my lips into a thin line and aimlessly shake my head.

  “When did you find out?”

  I blink a few times and realize he’s not standing beside us anymore. My eyes scan the garden tables then the sidewalk. He’s nowhere to be seen so I blow out a deep breath.

  “Last night.”

  “Holy crap!” Courtney scares the golden retriever laying near our table. I shoot her a look. “Tell me everything.”

  “There’s not a lot to say.” I shrug.

  “James Larrabee shows back up in your life, in a town halfway across the country from where we all knew each other, and you disappear ten seconds into the Solstice party,” she counters expectantly. “There’s something to say for sure.”

  My mind wanders, recalling the events of last night without my permission and without me being able to stop it. Swany pressing against me, my refusal. Swany being persistent, me yelling no. James. Everything about James. His arrival, his rescue. His eyes, his smile, his voice. My own Holy Trinity of worship. The very same one that signified my damnation. Both before and last night.

  I had to refuse his hand. I had to refuse his rescue.

  Didn’t I?

  Hadn’t he done enough the last time we really spoke to ensure that was all I could ever say to him?

  “Mina.” Courtney slaps my thigh beneath the table again. “Start talking.”

  “Swany was coming on way too strong, I told him no, and he wouldn’t listen. James tried to rescue me, and I had no interest in that sort of savior, so I went home with Swany instead. Simple as that.” I reach for my coffee, hoping the mug will warm against the cold that blows through me at the admission.

  “Simple as that? Simple as that? I’m going to slap you!”

  “Look Courtney, I’m not happy to see him. I’m not proud I did what I did when I saw him. I thought I was past all that and turns out…” I snap.

  Her whole face pinches as she holds my dagger stare before it softens completely. “It’s okay, Mina.”

  “It’s not okay. It’s years of feeling unlovable and unworthy, years of questioning what I could have done wrong or different. How I could have kept one of them instead of hurting both of them—”

  “You never hurt James. I’m not sure he has feelings.”

  “He has feelings.” The defense is automatic and makes Courtney arch her eyebrow. I blow out a deep breath. “The point is I thought I was past all that.”

  “It’s not like you went and got rip roaring drunk, did drugs, and got a I hate James Larrabee tattoo.”

  “Feels like I did.” I humph before I take a sip of coffee.

  “I know we’re different on this point but it’s just sex, Mina. It’s no big deal. Cut yourself some slack.”

  I think about her words. It is just sex, and Swany is sweet and hot, I should be able to get there. Forgive myself. Chalk this up to a win for feminism and me having my way rather than letting the boys have theirs. But I can’t.

  “It’s not the sex so much—though I’m not the biggest fan when you can’t trust your partner and lord knows I can’t trust Swany—it’s that I made decisions that aren’t me the second James was back in the picture. I folded. I thought I was strong, and I folded.”

  I lean my elbows onto the table and let my face fall into my hands.

  “Cut yourself some slack,” Courtney repeats as she reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. “And if you’re not there yet, let’s go grab some beer, the paddle boards, and later we’ll get rip roaring drunk. Maybe even do those drugs.”

  “I’m debating that tattoo.” I smile awkwardly against my palms.

  “No tattoo,” she scolds.

  “Fine. No tattoo.” I roll my eyes, but Courtney has made me smile and I know that’s how this healing thing begins. Again.

  Sun warms my skin as the gentle lap of water taps against my paddle board. It was incredibly difficult to think about James and my myriad of mistakes when it comes to him while I was trying to balance and navigate the current on Avalanche Creek, but now that we’ve made it to Timber Ridge Lake… I sigh. Then snarl because all I do these days is sigh.

  All of it is his fault.

  “Whatcha thinking about over there?” Courtney calls from her paddle board, drifting farther and farther away.

  “What an asshat James is.”

  “Nice!” Courtney’s tone is one I’ve learned well over the years; a combination of sarcasm and enthusiasm.

  It’s one of the reasons that I know I need to check myself. I can’t blame James for everything. Somedays I don’t think I can blame him for anything. I was the one that fell. I was the one that couldn’t handle the way our friendship grew. Or crumbled. I was the one that hurt my fiancé. And now I am the one who’s reacting to the moron with a brain made of ping-pong balls.

  I’m in control of my path. I have to remember that.

  The birds are twittering in the high alpine meadow, and clouds race across the sky. My eyes lazily open then drift back closed. James wanders into my thoughts then back out again. Each time I work on forgiving myself. I repeat my mantras. I try and accept what’s happened between us and remind myself that forward is always an option, I’m the only one that keeps me back.

  When the nose of my board hits the shore, I open my eyes and slowly sit up. Only to end up almost nose to nose with James. I swallow. Hard. The knot of every emotion stays stuck in my throat.

  “Hi,” I manage.

  “Hi.” He’s not nearly as kind as he was yesterday. Or this morning.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  “I could ask you the same thing.”

  “Clearly I’m paddle boarding.” I gesture to the fat, radiant yellow board I’m sitting on. He simply holds up a few neon discs in front of my face. “Good ole frisbee.” I roll my eyes.

  “Yeah. Frisbee.” His eyes pinch into the menacing ones I’ve seen before but never directed at me.

  My gut reaction is to apologize. To do anything and everything to get him to smile again. Before, my sun and moon rose with his smile, my world spun on his happiness even at the expense of my own. But I bite my lip and si
t in the anger and confusion that comes from him being in Pyramid Peak in the first place. Let alone in this meadow at this hour.

  We sit for one, two, three, four heartbeats without speaking. Without breathing on my part. When I open my mouth to say something—what I’m not entirely sure—he cuts me off.

  “You were a jerk last night.”

  “You were a jerk the last time I saw you.”

  “So holding a grudge for three years is a reason to go off and screw Sasquatch?” His angry eyes still see right through me.

  “Excuse me?”

  “What happened to you?” He shakes his head then starts aimlessly throwing first one disc then the other into the air.

  What happened to me? I learned love was a lie. That soulmates exist and it doesn’t matter. I learned that someone can know you without ever knowing your insides. That they can hear every word and none of them all at once.

  What happened to me… Is he fucking serious right now? HE happened to me. He made me jump through hoops to be his friend, but once I was, it was so good. The most thrilling and electric friendship I’d ever had. So much so that somewhere along the line, I tripped and fell for him. I don’t even know how or where or why, just that one day I couldn’t breathe if it weren’t for the thought of him. And if that wasn’t enough, then it all fell apart even more spectacularly. With harsh words and expectations that they shouldn’t hurt. With belittling moments and the presumption that someone like me couldn’t feel small.

  Then of course there was the pièce de résistance. The time he told me he’d heard gossip about me—about me loving him—and that it changed everything between us. How he dug the knife in by questioning all our interactions, every moment we’d shared. He said he doubted me, my motives, my character, then erased our friendship in one quick conversation. Sure, it was true, but it came from the mouth of a vicious hag who couldn’t face her own issues so she gossiped. Endlessly.

  If he’d ever really bothered to know me, he would have known I wasn’t leaving Tanner. I wasn’t going anywhere. I was going to keep shoving my feelings into the pit of my stomach to keep them both and keep them both happy. If he’d ever really bothered, he would have trusted me.

  As if that lesson wasn’t hard enough to learn, I got a second just a few weeks later. Never write my feelings down. Ever. Because someone will read them who shouldn’t. When that happened, I lost more than I knew I had left to lose.

  I take one more minute to look over James Larrabee, seething in that quiet way he has, so close to neutral but with a current beneath his skin. A current I learned to recognize.

  The words to shout at him are just on the tip of my tongue but pride flares in my chest. The asshole doesn’t deserve to hear them.

  I shift on my paddle board and it wobbles with my haste. Storming off isn’t going to be possible. Not without dumping myself off the paddle board and into the lake, in which case I’ll look even more stupid than I already do in his eyes. His stupid beautiful eyes that I would love nothing more than to claw out right now.

  What happened to me? I snarl as I slowly stand then equally as slow paddle away. Usually the slow and deliberate nature of the board makes me breathe deep and appreciate the world around me. It’s meditative. Today I desperately wish I could be huffy.

  “Run away. Again,” he calls from behind me.

  And whether it tips me or not, I raise my free hand and flip him the bird.

  “Hey, Jonas,” I call as I walk into Gold Mine Brewery. “How’s it going?”

  “Hey, Mina.” He ducks his head out of his office. “Give me like 15-20? I’ve got an interview.”

  “Of course.” I raise my crossed fingers for him then turn back to the taproom.

  Jonas Page owns the only brewery worth its salt in the county, and he’s been missing a head brewer for almost two months. He stepped back in to be brew master and CEO, but it’s been wearing him thin. He’s more than my main beer supplier, he’s a friend, and I shoot a small prayer to the universe that this goes well.

  “Mina!” His wife Aspen is behind the bar for a brief second before she throws her towel down and comes around to give me a hug. “How are you? How’s business?” she asks as she squeezes me tight.

  “Good. Busy. Summer tourism and all.” I choose to answer the business rather than personal question. It’s been a few days since I’ve seen James but I’m still riding the wave of emotion that accompanied him. And Swany. And my crap decisions. I groan inwardly.

  “Man do we know about that.” She laughs as she pulls me toward a barstool and returns to her post. “What can I get you?”

  “It’s before noon and I’m technically here for a meeting…” I let my words drift off.

  “Imperial IPA it is.”

  We both chuckle as Aspen reaches for a snifter and pours.

  “So, an interview, huh? For a brewer?” I ask when she slides the beer toward me.

  “Yes. Thank God. Jonas is going to go insane.” She sighs then grabs a small taster for herself. “I’m grateful for the business, don’t get me wrong, but I’d like to see my husband from time to time.”

  Her words twinge in my chest. There was only once that I craved that time with someone instead of my independence. Only once that I willingly would have laid my freedom at someone’s feet. Some good that type of slavery did me. I’ll probably never have the will, the want, the courage, or the searing soul to do it again.

  “What about you? I heard something about Swany?” She arches an eyebrow and this time my groan is definitely outward.

  “Swany is not a thing. Now or ever.”

  She chuckles again. “I get it. Cute butt though.”

  “And abs for days.” I sigh. “If only that’s what mattered.”

  Aspen winks then clinks the rim of my glass.

  “Anyway…the restaurant is good. Finally fully staffed so I’ve been able to be outside a little bit this summer,” I continue.

  “The last time I was there the food was phenomenal.”

  “Thanks, Aspen. That’s all Patrick…”

  I know the dark rumble coming down the hall before the source breaks out into the taproom. Him telling us about a tournament and a job comes to the forefront of my memory. A few days ago, I saw him playing with discs, now I’m seeing him get the job. Because they’re going to like him. No, love him.

  I mean, I did.

  “Aspen, I have…” I stutter as I shove my stool back. “Tell Jonas…” I’m like Bambi on the ice as I try and bail before they get to the taproom.

  “Mina?” Aspen’s brow crinkles.

  “Thanks so much for coming in, James. I really appreciate it. It was great to meet you.” Jonas smiles at James as I’m still trying to back out of the brewery. When I hit a chair Jonas and James both look directly at me. James’ stormy eyes meet mine, hard and harsh for a moment before they soften. Slightly. “James, meet the owner of one of our largest accounts, Holliday Tavern, and one of our great friends, Mina.”

  “We’ve met,” I say as I right the chair.

  “She’s the person who told me about Pyramid Peak years ago,” James adds softly.

  “You excited to potentially have an old friend in town?” Jonas asks.

  “We’re not friends,” I spit without thinking.

  James’ whole face contorts for a second before he schools it. “Thanks, Meen.” All of us can tell the words are bitter as he tastes them.

  Aspen comes around the bar and Jonas edges closer to her. They’re in between James and I, trying to figure out everything between James and me.

  “I’m gonna go.” James breaks the awkward silence first. “Thank you so much for your time, Jonas. It was great to meet you.” There’s defeat in his voice and I’m the one that put it there with my barbed words.

  “Stay. Have a beer,” Jonas encourages.

  “Some other time.” James has his serious voice on, calm and sophisticated, lacking the edge I know he wants to unleash on me. “I genuinely look forward to
it.”

  “Mina.” James nods at me as he passes but his gaze doesn’t linger.

  All three of us watch him walk out of the brewery. I swear I see him kick a rock in frustration once he’s out on the street. When I turn back, Jonas and Aspen are watching me.

  “So, I think we’ll take a few kegs of…” I try to transition from James to business.

  Aspen’s look makes me lose steam. My words stall out in my throat. We all stare at each other for a minute, until I can’t anymore, and I look down at the floor.

  “Oh, hell no, you better start talking,” Jonas says, his arms crossed across his chest. “What was that?”

  “Nothing. I’m sorry.” I bite my lip.

  “I mean there’s nothing to technically be sorry about. It was just awkward as hell.” Aspen mimics her husband.

  “That about sums us up.” I shrug.

  “A falling out?” Jonas asks.

  “Ex-boyfriend?” Aspen follows a second later.

  “Guys.” I drag out the S nice and long.

  “Mina.” Jonas comes over and claps his hands on my shoulder. “I’m going to hire him. Not just because I’m desperate but because he seems like a good guy and a good fit. Am I wrong?” His hands fall away. “You’ve gotta fill me in.”

  “I mean it when I say it’s nothing.”

  They both eye me skeptically as we drift back toward the bar. I can see the question marks I’ve installed on Jonas and Aspen’s faces, on James’ future. I close my eyes as I settle back onto my stool. I have to look like someone kicked my puppy or told me Santa Clause was fake, the wrinkles in my face suggest as much.

  “Post it on Poached this time.” Aspen sighs as she rounds the bar, back to her spot by the taps.

  “No!” It’s a visceral reaction but it’s completely true. “I mean it. If you like him, hire him. One hundred percent.”

  “Not convinced, Mina.” Jonas leans against the bar, his eyes fixed on me. “You look like you might hurl on my bar and he called you mean.”

  James was the only one ever allowed to call me that. Growing up it drove me nuts, it didn’t fit, I wasn’t mean. Or at least I tried not to be. But when James said it, he was just shortening my name. He laughed when he realized he’d called me mean and the sound struck me. Just the way his murmured as if you could ever be mean did. That moment meant something to me. It was one I clung to when I needed to believe our friendship was real.