Dangerous Games: A Standalone Second Chance Romance

by T. K. Leigh

  The pounding of my heart fighting for attention with the drummer of the opening act currently on stage, I nod quickly. I can still back out, approach Asher somewhere else. Somewhere on neutral ground. But he needs to know I’ll do whatever it takes to win him back, even if that means showing up backstage at one of his concerts.

  “You have no idea.”

  We skirt past roadies wearing headsets, one of them carrying what I recognize to be one of Asher’s black acoustic guitars. Just knowing it’s recently been strapped to Asher’s body, my fingers long to reach out and touch it.

  “What are you going to say to him?” Nora’s question snaps my attention back to her.

  “I’m not sure. I want him to know I’ll always love him. That I always have loved him. That I also love him enough to let him go, if that’s what he truly wants.”

  “Hopefully it won’t come to that.”

  “I hope so, too,” I say as Jessie rounds the corner with a man of average height and build, sporting what I’ve learned to be the unspoken uniform of roadies — dark t-shirt, cargo shorts, and heavy work boots.

  “Oh, good. You found it,” Jessie begins, then turns to the man at his side. “Izzy, this is Tom, the production manager. Tom, this is Isabella Nolan. She’s scheduled for a brief meeting with Mr. York. He’s expecting her.” Then he looks at me. “He’ll show you where you need to go while I give Nora a tour.” He holds his elbow out to her.

  “You got this.” She squeezes my bicep, then loops her arm through Jessie’s.

  “This way.” Tom continues through the corridors. This time, I don’t marvel at the excitement of being backstage at a concert. My focus is on one thing and one thing only. Asher.

  He leads me down another hallway, this one much quieter, the floor carpeted instead of being bare cement. Every door is marked with names of the bands I recognize to be Asher’s opening acts. Finally, we approach the end of the hallway, the door labeled “Asher York”. Butterflies flap in my stomach when Tom brings his hand up and knocks lightly.

  “Mr. York, your interview is here.”

  I hold my breath, my limbs jittery. It’s been six weeks since I’ve last seen him and he peered upon me with utter disgust and animosity. Am I ready for him to look upon me with the same distaste? As much as I’m desperate to see the love he once had for me, I need to do this, need to put it all on the line.

  “Send them in.”

  Not her. Not him. Makes me think Asher isn’t exactly expecting me. A fact I confirm when Tom opens the door and I step inside, meeting Asher’s eyes. He stiffens in surprise. But thankfully, he doesn’t kick me out. Just stares, mouth agape, chest rising and falling in a faster pattern.

  “Call if you need anything.”

  I lift my pleading gaze to Asher, bracing myself for him to tell Tom to get me out of here, that I’m not welcome. But he doesn’t, and Tom retreats, closing the door behind him.

  I don’t move, just study him. His eyes are duller than they were last time I saw him. His hair and unshaven jaw coupled with his fitted t-shirt and torn jeans give him that same seductive, disheveled look, making him appear sexy as hell. But there’s something missing. My Asher is missing.

  “I’m probably the last person you want to see,” I begin in a soft voice.

  “You’ve got that right.” He leans his acoustic guitar against the wall beside him and crosses his arms over his chest, defensive, making no move to offer me the chance to sit beside him on the leather couch.

  “And I don’t blame you for hating me. I hate me for what I’ve done, too. Which is why I moved back into my parents’ house and am saving every penny so I can return the money to Jessie.”

  “Still doesn’t make what you did okay.”

  “You’re right. It doesn’t. But you want to know the truth?”

  He stays silent.

  “I don’t regret anything that happened,” I declare passionately. “I don’t regret dating Jessie first. Don’t regret agreeing to marry him. Don’t regret walking away from both of you. Don’t regret sleeping with you in Vegas.”

  I swipe at the tears spilling over my eyes. I tried to remain strong, to remain in control of my emotions, but I can’t. Not when a future with Asher is on the line.

  “And I certainly do not regret accepting Jessie’s offer. Because if I hadn’t, I never would have seen you again. After Vegas, I didn’t want to see you again. Didn’t want to put my heart through the wringer again. But those days at Grams’ lake house made me realize something.”

  He uncrosses his arms, his expression softening. “What’s that?”

  A sad smile tugs on my lips. “That I’d gladly suffer through the worst pain imaginable every day for the rest of my life if it meant I got just one more minute with you. Despite everything, I still love you. I have since the moment I laid eyes on you in the dingy club in Boston. And I’ll continue to love you even after I draw my last breath. The fact I may have had an agreement with Jessie doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change who we are, what we felt for each other.”

  “How could it not?” Jumping to his feet, he advances toward me, stopping a breath away.

  I inhale sharply, his familiar scent wrapping around me. God, I hope this isn’t the last time I’ll savor in his woodsy aroma that reminds me of late nights at Grams’ lake house, building a snowman, cooking dinner together.

  “You were paid to make me believe in something that wasn’t there,” he chokes out, his own eyes red with emotion. He turns from me, pacing, tugging on his hair.

  “No, I wasn’t.” My voice is strong, determined, the vein in my neck tight. “I was paid to be there. That’s it. Everything we shared was real. Everything. My feelings were real. My love was real. And it still is. So much so that I’m willing to walk away.”

  He stills, looking at me, brows furrowed. “You are?”

  I nod, swiping away more tears. “If you truly believe none of it was real, if you truly believe all the time we spent together was only an illusion, nothing I say or do will convince you otherwise. After all these years, I’m fully aware of how stubborn you are.”

  The tension loosens momentarily as he cracks a light smile.

  I slowly walk toward him. “But if even a small part of you thinks it might have been real…” I come to a stop in front of him, grateful when he doesn’t retreat, “then let’s start over. From the beginning.”

  “The beginning?”

  “Exactly. At Sammy’s.”

  He closes his eyes as realization washes over him. The club where we first saw each other.

  I grasp his hands, a spark shooting through me when I feel his calloused skin against mine after so long. “If you still feel the connection I know you did that very first time our eyes met, come there after your show tonight.”

  He seems to assess my proposal. “And if I don’t?”

  “Then I’ll walk away.” I drop my hold on him, taking a step back. “That’s how much I love you, Asher. I love you enough to let you go.”

  Closing the distance between us, he peers deep into my gaze, the intensity in his stare stripping me bare, exposing all my secrets, lies, truths. He brings a hand up to my cheek, but doesn’t touch me. I can see indecision plaguing him, a tumultuous game of tug-of-war raging within his mind.

  “I…” He licks his lips, chest heaving, eyes raking over my face.

  “Yes?” I silently implore him to remember everything we’ve been through. To realize we can have that again. To realize we can have more than that if he’d just give me another chance.

  “I…” He inches closer, focusing on my lips.

  “Yes…”

  “I have to get on stage.”

  The buzz instantly disappears, and I whirl around, watching as he opens the door.

  “You can see yourself out.”

  My shoulders fall, a vice squeezing my heart. When he steps into the hallway, he pauses, and I perk up, willing him to look back at me. To rush to me and sweep me into his arms. To
forgive me.

  Instead, he shakes his head and walks away.

  My knee bounces as I sit in the corner booth of the club I once frequented during my college days. Not much has changed. The bartenders still serve watered-down drinks. The floor is still sticky with spilled beverages. College students still fill the place as they dance to the music being performed by the latest trend in Boston music.

  I check the time, just as I’ve done every few minutes for the past several hours. When eleven o’clock rolled around and I knew the concert should be ending, hope grew inside of me. Every time I noticed the doors open, my eyes darted in their direction, only to be disappointed when it wasn’t the man I hoped it would be.

  “Last call,” our server says as she approaches. “Want anything else?”

  “I’m fine,” Nora states before looking at me with sad eyes.

  She’s been incredibly supportive all night, cracking jokes to help keep my mind off the likelihood that Asher won’t be coming. If it weren’t for her, I’d be a complete mess by now. She’s kept me grounded, optimistic. But now, that optimism is slowly waning. Maybe I should have pushed harder, thrown myself at Asher’s feet, begged for forgiveness. Not given him a way out, a clean slate.

  “Nothing for me, either,” I answer with a sigh.

  “Enjoy your evening.”

  When the lights snap on and the bouncers usher everyone outside, I stand and scoot out of the booth, pretending my heart isn’t breaking with each step I take out of the club. Nora and I wait a few minutes for our Uber to arrive, which gives Asher a little longer to show up.

  He never does.

  Chapter Forty-One

  The sun beams through the open curtains of our hotel room in the Copley Square area of Boston, but it does nothing to boost my melancholy mood. I barely slept last night. I’d hoped the threat of me walking away was enough for Asher to realize what was at stake. Maybe he truly does hate me like I feared.

  “I think the Sox are in town. We can try to find some tickets,” Nora suggests as she flips through tourist brochures about Boston.

  I grit out a small smile. I’d normally jump at the opportunity to see a game, but going to Fenway will only remind me of Asher, considering how much he loves the Sox.

  “I’m not in the mood.”

  “Fine.” She tosses the brochures to the side. “Maybe we should just get raging drunk and pass out before three o’clock in the afternoon. How does that sound?”

  “It’s Sunday. You can’t get alcohol before noon. Obviously the fucking Puritans didn’t think people would suffer a broken heart in the morning.” I flop onto the bed, expelling a long breath. I stare at the ceiling, wishing I hadn’t planned to stay in Boston through Monday.

  “We can go home,” Nora offers, her voice filled with compassion. “Switch our flight to leave today instead of tomorrow.”

  “No,” I sigh. “You’ve never spent any time up here. You should at least decide which place has the better cannoli — Mike’s or Modern.”

  She scrunches her nose. “Is that supposed to make sense?”

  “It will soon.” I raise myself to sit. “I’ll shower and we’ll go do something.” I drag myself off my bed and head toward the bathroom when my cell rings. I decide to let it go to voicemail, thinking it’s Chloe or Evie to offer me words of encouragement.

  “It’s Jessie,” Nora sings.

  I pause, glancing over my shoulder at her. “Jessie?”

  “That’s what the caller ID says.”

  My pulse gradually increases as I return to the bed, grabbing my cell. I consider sending him to voicemail, too, but something makes me answer.

  “Hey, Jessie.”

  “Izzy…” The kindness in his tone is all the evidence I need to know Asher must have told him what happened. “How are you?”

  I force a smile, if only for myself. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you?”

  “I will be. I have to be. It’s time to move on. I can’t keep putting myself through this.”

  He exhales deeply. “I can’t fault you there. I just… I was hoping you’d do me a favor. Before you move on.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I was talking to Grams this morning. I sort of let it slip you were in town. She’d like to see you. Do you mind suffering through another three-hour car ride with me up to the lake house? It would mean a lot to her. Don’t worry,” he adds quickly. “It’ll just be us.”

  I pull my bottom lip between my teeth. “I’d have to talk to Nora.”

  Her hand wraps around my forearm, and I dart my eyes to hers. By her response, I can only assume she’s able to overhear my conversation. “Go,” she whispers. “I’ll be fine.”

  I cover the microphone. “Are you sure?” I murmur.

  “Of course. You should spend some time with Grams. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

  I pinch my lips into a tight line, then sigh before returning my attention to my phone. “Okay. I’ll go.”

  “Great!” Jessie’s voice brightens. “I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  When Jessie pulls his rented SUV onto the unpaved path leading up to Grams’ lake house hours later, I can’t help but marvel at how different it is from the last time I was here. The trees lining the property are no longer barren but filled with leaves and pine needles, offering plenty of cover against the hot summer sun. There are a few clouds, but instead of the sky being a desolate gray, it’s a gorgeous shade of blue.

  Jessie kills the ignition, then steals a glance at me. I meet his sad eyes, a half-hearted smile crossing his mouth. “Let me win one?”

  I furrow my brows, confused, before the meaning of his question sinks in. Our game of who can get to my door faster. “Of course.”

  He holds my gaze for a beat, then ducks out of the car, making his way to the passenger door and opening it for me. He offers his hand and helps me down. This moment is bittersweet. I promised I’d move on, but it’s still painful to know this is one of the last times Jessie will open the door for me.

  He rests his palm on my back and steers me up the walkway. I swallow hard as we pass the tree with our initials still carved in the bark. They’ve faded over the years, but it serves as a reminder. Of what, though? It’s not love. I know the truth now. Maybe friendship? Despite everything, Jessie was always good to me. He always treated me with respect, with decency, apart from the lies. But we all told lies. We all hid secrets. We all buried our truths. Hopefully we’ll find the strength to move forward and learn from our mistakes.

  “Grams?” Jessie calls out when we step over the threshold and into the foyer. “Where are you?” He walks into the living room, but there’s no sign of her. No sign of anyone. “She might be out back. You know how much she loves lying in that hammock during the summer.”

  “That I do,” I say as a lazy smile pulls on my mouth. I’d lost count of the number of times I walked past her as she snored on the hammock, an open book resting on her face, an empty whiskey glass on the ground below her.

  I follow Jessie through the quiet house and onto the back deck. My steps are slow as I descend the stairs into the large yard, ghosts of my past dancing before me. Playing volleyball with the entire family. Lying on the grass beside Jessie. Building a snowman with Asher. This place holds some of my fondest memories. And some of my most painful ones.

  As we approach the hammock hanging between two mature oak trees, Jessie comes to a stop. “She’s not here, either.”

  “Would she have gone to run some errands?”

  He scrunches his brow. “I texted her when we rolled into town. She would have said something. Maybe she’s in the music room. She’s taken to listening to Asher’s album with her headphones on and the music cranked up while she plays air guitar.”

  My eyes bulge. “She does not.”

  “She does.”

  I burst out laughing at the image he painted. As crazy as it sounds, I absolutely believe it.
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  “I’ll take another look through the house. Why don’t you stay out here?” He gestures toward the lake. “I know how much you love this place.”

  I’m about to tell him I’ll come with him. The sooner I see Grams, the sooner we can leave and I can move on with my life. But as I stand beneath the towering trees with the view of the lake just beyond, a calm I’ve been searching for washes over me.

  “Okay.”

  He nods. “Okay.” With a sad smile, he leans down, kissing my forehead, a finality in his gesture.

  When he pulls away, he locks his gaze with mine for a brief moment before he turns, his steps sluggish as he heads up to the house. I watch until he disappears, then exhale a long breath and slowly make my way down to the dock, the wood creaking under my weight as I walk toward the far end.

  I lower myself, allowing my feet to dangle off the edge, the roar of a boat motor audible in the distance. Waves lap over the rocky shoreline, dragonflies skimming along the water’s surface. I inhale a deep breath and close my eyes, savoring the fresh air that can only be described as wet earth. For two years of my life, this spot was my heaven. All because of the man who often sat by my side.

  Opening my eyes, I smile as I glance to my side at the space I left for Asher out of habit. Then I notice something that wasn’t there when I sat down mere moments ago. With shaky hands, I reach for it, almost certain it’s a hallucination, a vibrant memory of a past I’d give anything to return to. But when the roughness of the folded-up staff paper in the shape of an origami dove touches my skin, my throat closes up.

  “That’s not from me.”

  I jump at the familiar voice, my breath catching as I look around. When my gaze falls on Asher’s silhouette standing a few yards away, I swallow hard. He looks different than he did last night. His eyes are no longer cold and broken. Instead, they peer at me with longing.

  “It’s not?” I stand on shaky legs.

  “No.” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts, advancing toward me with measured steps. With each inch he erases, my heartbeat increases. “That one’s from Jessie.”