Ayden

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Ayden Page 6

by Melissa Belle


  Next to me, she stumbles and I catch her with my hand, keeping her upright as we cross the empty Main Street. She leans into my side, and now—Christ—I can’t get out of my head the thought of stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to kiss her. Which is nuts on an average day, but right now? I’m leaving town and moving three thousand miles away. Talk about complicated.

  As we turn onto Bella’s street and head for her house, she snuggles further into my arm, and my heart lurches in my chest.

  Outside of my four cousins and Jenson, for as long as I can remember, Bella’s been the one constant bright light in my life. If it weren’t for her, I may not have been brave enough to accept the incredible job offer in L.A. Sure, two of my cousins live out there, and I’m closer to them than I am to my own brother. Knowing Colton and Dylan will be around to hang out with is awesome. But if Bella hadn’t already taken the risk to live somewhere other than Lucky Bay, I never would have considered moving so far away.

  Besides, I need this job. When I told my boss what was going on, he put in a call for me. And while the idea of leaving Bella is gut-wrenching, I need to take care of my mom and brother.

  And the truth is, I don’t think all of Bella left California when she returned to Maine. When I’m in L.A., I’ll be able to feel her spirit out there, like she’ll still be with me somehow.

  She struggles to unlock her front door, and I take the key from her gently and let us both inside. I pour her a glass of water and make her a snack, and I’m putting them on her bedside table when she returns from the bathroom in a t-shirt and sweatpants. She’s no longer wearing a bra, and the outline of her breasts shows through the thin fabric of her shirt. I swallow and try not to stare, but her nipples are saluting me.

  “Bella.” My voice comes out too harsh. “Get into bed.”

  She climbs in, and I pull the covers up to her neck. “Sweet dreams.”

  I kiss her cheek and smooth back her hair and then turn out the bedroom light. As I leave her house and head for my own place a couple blocks away, I feel an emptiness fill me. It’s unsettling, and the thought of Bella returning to Los Angeles enters my brain. Part of me feels like a selfish bastard for wanting her to come there with me, but the other part of me knows she’ll never be happy if she doesn’t try again. Her dream is music. All she ever wanted was to be a singer. And I would love nothing more than to help her get that dream back.

  I run my hand down my face as I jog up my front steps and unlock my door.

  Maybe there’s a way…I don’t know how yet, but maybe Bella could actually move out west again, and I wouldn’t have to leave my best friend behind after all.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Bella

  I wake up Wednesday morning to a text from Ayden.

  Stop by my mom’s this morning if you can before work. I leave at ten for the airport.

  As I walk up the long driveway to Ayden’s mother’s house, my heart is heavy. In just a short while, Ayden and I will be saying goodbye for real. Ayden is my go-to, and the idea of him not being here anymore sends me into a sea of sadness.

  I stop short to touch up my lips with the pink lipstick I just bought. As I run the lipstick over my bottom lip, unbidden thoughts of Ayden kissing me flash through my head. I push them away immediately and shove the lipstick into the back pocket of my black jeans.

  I’m going to kill Tari. She’s gotten me on a dangerous track of thinking about Ayden in a romantic sense, and that can’t happen. Okay fine, I can’t actually blame Tari. The truth is, all these sexy Ayden thoughts have been coming mainly from my own newly-warped brain.

  Being with Ayden has always been easy. Being with boyfriends has not been easy, and the one time I thought it was, I shouldn’t have. Trevor should have come with a huge warning sign on his forehead so I would have known better and walked away quick.

  I smile as soon as I catch sight of Ayden packing up his car. He always comes here right before he leaves on a trip, to reassure his mother that he’s going to come back and not disappear into the air, or the sea like his father did.

  “Hey,” Ayden calls out, and I feel my heart lighten. It’s amazing how just one little word can do that to somebody, can make you feel something when you haven’t been feeling much of anything.

  I wave and walk closer, as close as I can without touching him. As usual, Ayden’s dark messy hair is half-hidden underneath his Sox cap, and my gaze shifts from his worn jeans up to his fitted green shirt. I get lost on his mouth for a few extra seconds before finally raising my gaze to meet his. We lock eyes, and he lifts an eyebrow.

  “You still drunk?” he teases.

  I playfully tap his arm. “No, I’m doing fine. And I’m sorry about the other night. I got emotional and…”

  He cuts me off. “No apologies, B. Not to me.”

  His deep blue eyes with more than a hint of green swirl with emotion, and I realize for about the millionth time why so many women have gotten lost in them over the years. I know I should count myself lucky that I’m not one of those lost souls, but sometimes I regret making that childhood pact. Maybe Tari’s right. Maybe this really is my last chance to see if Ayden and I could be perfect together, perfect as more than best friends.

  I brush off my private thoughts and smile. “The Lucky Bay Clam Festival won’t be the same without you. I’ll need somebody new to eat fried clams with and ride on the state’s oldest carousel.”

  Ayden touches my cheek. “I’ll be back for it. In fact, Peter said that’s where we should have our double-date.”

  “Seriously? That sounds like a long-ass date if you ask me.”

  “We can cut out early if Jenny and the tool are boring us.” He winks at me, and I cross my arms over my chest.

  “Trey—not tool—does not bore me,” I say.

  Ayden smirks. “Right. So why were you worrying about the length of the date? You and I always spend the entire day together at the clam festival. In fact”—he takes a step closer to me—“we usually go out afterwards too.”

  “That’s different.”

  “How?”

  “You and I are…” I stumble. “We’re…us.”

  He taps my nose with his finger. “Exactly.”

  I try to tamp down how incredibly hot I suddenly am while Ayden fixes his landscaping bag in the front seat of his age-old sedan. He bends over to shift the bag across the seat, and the way his jeans hang low on his hips and then hug every inch of his perfect ass…God, shut up, Bella.

  “Will that all fit in the overhead?” I pick up his coat from the driveway of his parents’ house. I should say his mother’s house; his father’s been gone for nearly fifteen years now. And yet, I feel I’m being disrespectful or something, like I’ve forgotten about him. Like I could.

  Ayden takes the coat from my hands and tosses it into the back, right next to a duffel bag. “I hope so.” He reaches over and brushes a stray hair back off my face. I reach for my bun automatically in an attempt to fix it.

  He stuffs his hands in his pockets, a sure sign that he’s nervous about something. There’s a long pause and then—

  “Come with me, Bella.”

  And suddenly it feels like we’re talking about more than just this trip.

  I stare at him. “I…can’t.”

  Ayden doesn’t say anything; he just waits quietly for what we both know is coming.

  “I can’t leave my mom. Not while she’s so…unbalanced.”

  “She needs professional help, honey,” he says in a gentle tone. “You can only do so much.”

  “She sees a psychiatrist weekly,” I say. “What are you saying—she needs to be locked up?”

  I nearly choke on the words, and Ayden reaches for my hand.

  “Of course not,” he says. “I just mean you can’t sacrifice your life for your mother, Bella. One day, maybe she’ll realize that too.”

  I go silent, not sure what to say to that.

  “Okay, do me a different favor.” His energy shifts, and he grins
at me in an obvious attempt to lighten the subject matter.

  Too grateful for the change in topic to worry about whatever he’s going to say next, I look at him expectantly. “What is it?”

  “Don’t go on any dates while I’m gone.”

  I burst out laughing.

  But when I look back at Ayden, his jaw is tight, and his eyes are clear and focused on me.

  “You’re serious?” I ask him.

  “Yes, I’m dead serious.”

  “Why? You never like my dates anyway.”

  He steps closer to me. “Because I’m asking you not to.”

  Irritation flares through me. “Oh really? And what about you? You’ll be in L.A. for days, and no doubt hordes of women will be hitting on you.”

  “I swear to you that I won’t touch another woman while I’m gone.”

  What?

  I reach out and touch his forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”

  I stare up at Ayden’s face, searching his expression. His cheeks flush ever so slightly, but he doesn’t give anything else away.

  Fishing for clarity, I say casually, “But you’ve been sort of dating Jenny…”

  He shrugs. “Sort of.”

  Does “sort of” mean “Jenny and I are fucking?”

  I push onward. “And she’s who you’re taking on our double date?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Okay. Well, I’m taking Trey. As you know, we’re sort of dating also.”

  Oh my God, this is not a pissing contest. Shut up, Bella. Just shut up.

  Ayden throws out a quick grin and returns to his usual laid-back mode. “Bella. Wait for me to come home. Even though we’re rooting for each other, this is still a competition, right?”

  I narrow my eyes. “So me not going out on any dates while you’re away is all about you wanting to win your dare and making sure I don’t ‘get ahead’ of you.”

  He shifts so he’s leaning against his car. “Not only that, no. We’re also supposed to be helping each other, aren’t we? Since we both admittedly suck at this dating thing, I thought it would be best if neither of us gets off track while we’re apart.”

  My voice softens. “Of course. That makes sense.”

  “Great.” Ayden flips his baseball cap backward and leans in to kiss my cheek.

  And just like that, I vow to stop being jealous about Ayden’s girlfriends. The reason Ayden and I made that promise to only be friends is for moments like this—so we can be there for each other, no matter what. I love Ayden far too much to risk losing him for a few days of good—okay, I’m sure it would be fucking amazing—sex.

  I smile up at him brightly, and he cocks his head like he’s trying to figure out what just went on in my brain. I lick my lips involuntarily, and Ayden abruptly pulls me closer to him in a tight embrace. My hand automatically goes to his chest where I feel the hard thumping of his heart. His arm wraps around my waist, and his fingers find their way to the gap between my tank top and the waistband of my fitted jeans. When he touches my hot skin, I bite back a gasp.

  “We’ll figure out the details when I come back.” His voice in my ear is low and filled with promise. “And you didn’t call that redhead from the bar last night, did you? He’s definitely not close to good enough for you.”

  Before I can answer him, his brother pushes open the screen door of his apartment that sits on top of the detached garage next to the Wild house. His mother opens the front door of the house a second later like she’s been listening for signs of Michael’s leaving.

  “Michael? Michael! Wait!”

  Ignoring her calls, Michael storms down the wooden stairs to his truck with his mother’s shouts following him.

  “Michael Patrick Wild, I do not want you going out on the water today! It’s supposed to storm later—remember how your father died?!”

  “How could I forget, Ma?” Michael screams back. “You only mention it every fucking day!”

  Ayden lets go of my waist, and I step back from him as Michael walks past us without a word and gets into his truck. Ayden stares after his brother, his only visible reaction the clenching of his jaw.

  Next to the front door of the Wild’s saltbox home, the anchor from Mr. Wild’s boat rests against the wall. A gift from the crew who lived.

  Anna Wild kneels down in front of it now and crosses herself as Michael peels out of the driveway. “Hail Mary, full of Grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou...”

  I fight the urge to cross myself. When she’s finished with the prayer, she stands up and turns toward us.

  “Hi, Bella, honey!”

  I wave at her. “How are you, Anna?”

  “Wonderful. Did Ayden invite you to the party?”

  Ayden groans. “Ma, I haven’t had a chance yet.”

  Anna waves a finger at him. “Tell her all the details! Bella, it won’t be the same without you—make sure you save the date! It’s the day before July fourth.”

  “Okay, thank you for the invitation!” I call back to her.

  “Ayden, you’ll call me when you land, right?” Anna asks him.

  “You know I will.” He walks over to her and gives her a hug.

  I can’t hear what she says to him, but I make out scattered words like “be so proud” and “thank you.”

  I never like to push Ayden, but I’m wondering when he’s going to open up and fill me in on exactly what this move to L.A. is all about.

  After his mom disappears back inside the house, I wait as he jogs back to me.

  “So.” I tilt my head to where his mother was just standing. “What was that all about?”

  He hesitates, and I know he’s not going to answer my question. Instead, he says, “Looks like your mom’s not the only one throwing a party this summer.”

  “Really? Your mom is hosting? With prayer and all?”

  “Oh, I’m sure there’ll be prayer.” Ayden scowls. “It’s the fifteenth anniversary of Dad’s drowning.”

  I look underneath his cap at his sad eyes. “Fifteen years,” I say softly.

  “Yep.” Ayden blows out a breath. “Ma, the fishermen who knew my dad, their wives, all decided to hold this party. For Dad and the others from that day, you know…”

  He trails off, but I understand. All twelve men who died will be honored. Honored for drowning. For holding onto that anchor and never letting go, not until the bitter end.

  “Fuck.” Ayden grits his teeth, but the pain is etched all over his face. “I thought I could get out of here before it happened. But Ma made sure to change it when she heard about my new job. She’s already told Colton and the rest of the cousins too. So of course they’re all set on coming even though I told them I’d kill them if they did.”

  “I’m sure they just want to be there for you. He was their uncle, you know.”

  “I know.” Three heartbeats pass before he says in a low tone, “Will you go to the party with me?”

  “Of course I’ll go. You know you don’t have to ask, Ayd.”

  “Yeah.” His eyes burn into mine. “But I mean be my date. What do you say?”

  Did he just ask me out?

  “Um…” I wrap my arms around my stomach.

  Ayden’s blue eyes sparkle. “I meant like a best friend date,” he says. “I trust you, and I know you’ll stick by me. I really don’t want to go with anybody else. Say yes?”

  I reach up and tug at the brim of his cap. “Absolutely. I’ll be your date, your best friend, whatever you need, Ayden.”

  Ayden kisses the top of my head. “Thanks, Bella.” He opens his car door and gets in. “I’ll see you.”

  My stomach flutters. “Give everyone my love, and make sure to tell Jasalie I miss her.”

  “I will.” He starts the engine, his eyes never leaving mine as he slowly backs out of the driveway.

  “Fly safe, Ayd.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I stand motionless, staring after Ayden’s car until I can’t see it anymore.

  Shit. Ay
den just asked me to go to L.A. with him.

  And I couldn’t say yes.

  My chest aches as I walk home the long way by the docks. I stare out at the beach and inhale the salty air of the incoming tide, swallowing down the emotion threatening to clog my throat.

  Three days later, I still can’t get Ayden’s invitation out of my head. I spend the morning trying to study for the psychology exam I have next week.

  But something’s tugging at me, a memory I can’t push down this time. I slam shut my psychology book and open up my basement door. I walk down the dimly-lit stairwell and open the large storage closet where I begin to pick through everything I’ve stuffed in here over the past few years. Something falls on my head, and as it drops to the ground, I realize it’s two pictures stuck together back-to-back.

  Ayden and I, no more than four years old, are in our swimsuits in the kiddie pool. Ayden’s sporting a wide, toothy grin. I look serious, like I’m already practicing posing for the camera. He has his arm around me.

  I turn the picture over to look at the second photograph. I’m alone with my guitar. My hair covers my face as I strum so I can’t see my expression, how happy I am, but I can remember it like it just happened. Grandpa took that picture—me with my first guitar on my twelfth birthday.

  I wrestle with myself for quite a while until the agony of limbo is finally worse than any action I could possibly take. And once I force myself out of my paralysis, I go to her immediately. She’s been well-hidden all these years, but I know exactly where to find her. At the very back of the top shelf by the broken mini-fridge I never did take to the dump.

  I climb up on a chair and take her down. The cover is so full of dust I start coughing. I open up the latches, pull my guitar out, and bring her upstairs. When I take out the pick and begin strumming, she’s so out of tune that my notes sound like a screech owl. One of the frets is broken. And she’s awfully musty.

  I smile.

  I forgot how much I’d missed her.

  An hour later, I hurry into the Lucky Bay Pool Hall and go straight for the music lounge where I find Guy at the piano. He looks up and a smile spreads across his face.

 

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