by A. J. Briar
“I think I can wait for breakfast. Can’t you?” All rational thoughts go out of the window as I find myself bound by his spell. I reach out and straddle him, the thoughts of the paradise I felt earlier, spurring me on. Leaning down, I lick his bottom lip when a shrill ring interrupts our heaven. Nathan groans, while I jump up and fumble around the room trying the find the cause of our disruption.
Isla’s name flashes up on the screen and momentarily I debate whether to send it to voicemail or not. Given last night’s events, and knowing Isla, she’d send out a search party if I don’t answer.
“Hi, what’s up?” I try to keep my voice neutral, but my eyes drift to where Nathan is currently led on the bed looking highly amused. His arms are crossed behind his head, his entire body is deliciously on display for my own pleasure. I don’t know whether to jump for joy or curse like a sailor that he’s not bothered to put any clothes on.
“B, Is everything okay? I expected you to be here by now.” I glance around the room looking for the time. Shit. It’s little after eleven. I didn’t even realize we had slept in so late. Inwardly groaning, I reply.
“Yeah, everything is fine, Isla. We’ll get on the road soon.” The thought of leaving our own utopia has my gut churning, but I’m hoping that I can persuade Nathan to stay with me, when we get back.
“Great. Don’t be too long, B. I miss you.” I answer with the same sentiments and hang up, eager to be back in the warmth of Nathan’s arms. My smile dims, when I look back to the bed and notice Nathan isn’t where I left him. The bathroom door is shut and moments later, I hear the water running from the shower. Guessing our moment is over, I trudge across the room to grab some fresh clothes from my bag.
Frustration radiates off me, despite me trying to rein in some of my disappointment. Nathan re-enters the room, the early lust and desire replaced by something entirely different. His entire demeaner is lackluster meaning I’m entirely confused.
“Is everything alright?” Warily, I approach him, which earns me a big slap in the face as he retreats a step backwards. His eyes scan over me, almost like he’d forgotten what was just happening between us. My mind reels trying to figure out what the hell has happened in the past ten minutes, for him to act so differently. He forces a smile on his face, which is painful to watch.
“Yep. Bathrooms all yours. We should get going soon. I told my ma I’d be there for lunch.” The dismissive tone has my mind all sorts of fucked up, but I clutch my clothes to my chest and head to the bathroom anyway. The shower does nothing to help my mood. For the life of me, I try and figure out what the fuck is wrong with Nathan. My efforts are fruitless though.
I throw on a pair of jeans and a tank top, pinning my hair in a ponytail to keep it off my face. Nerves swirl around my stomach when I leave the bathroom. Nathan’s sat on the corner of the bed, flicking through his phone.
“You ready?” He nods while standing. Part of me wants to scream at him for being distant, then the other part of me wants to run into his arms and find out what’s going on. The latter wins as he goes to move past me, and I sidestep in his way. Folding my arms, I try my best to look intimidating.
“Actually, we’re not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.” I pin him with a glare. His mouth turns up slightly and I thank the lords, that I’ve not completely lost him. He sighs softly, then takes a step forward. Lifting his hand, he entwines it with my own.
“I’m sorry. I freaked. This. Us. Everything’s so familiar yet new. I just need to get out of my own head for a while.” His expression is sincere, yet there’s a wobble in his voice. I wrap my arms around his waist hoping that I can ease some of the doubt that he feels. It’s ironic that I was the one who asked him for time, yet he clearly needed it too. He kisses the top of my forehead and releases me, far too quickly for my liking.
“Let’s get you back to Isla.” I link my hand in his and we leave the room, heading downstairs to check out. By the time we get in the truck, my stomach protests from lack of food. Nathan shoots me a grin; the earlier tension dissipates as he offers to grab us some food on the way. Three burgers, some fries, and a chocolate milkshake later, we’re on our way.
The ride back is filled with music and chit chat, though I still sense Nathan is mulling over something. Before I know it, he’s pulled up in front of my house, and our time together is coming to an end.
“I know I asked you earlier, but it would be nice to see you tonight, if you’re free.” I go out on a limb trying to persuade him again, throwing in a wink for good measure.
“I’ll try my best to be there. Text me your location when you’re out so I know where you are.” The protectiveness in his voice has me grinning like the Cheshire cat. I lean over and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. A growl that is both feral and primal emits from his throat. He turns to brush his lips against mine. His kiss is demanding yet soft and I find myself wishing that he hadn’t promised his mom that he’d go and see her.
Reluctantly pulling away, we rest our foreheads against each other, both breathing hard from the mind-boggling kiss.
“Remember, I love you Isabella James.” The words are a plea against my lips. My entire heart wants me to respond but for what feels like the billionth time, Isla interrupts the moment by knocking on the window. I swear to god it’s like she has a sixth sense for the equivalent of cock blocking me.
“Stop slobbering over your boyfriend and get out here and hug me. He gets you all the time, I only get you for the weekend.” Nathan stiffens beside me, probably at the fact that Isla called him my boyfriend, yet we’ve not really discussed it. I mean, he did declare his love for me, and we’ve slept together. But considering his earlier mood, I’m not sure he wants to label this just yet.
Pecking his lips one more time, I say goodbye and promise to text him our whereabouts. Isla pulls me into her arms, the bone crushing hug instantly making me feel at home. We both wave goodbye and watch Nathan as he drives off down the street into the distance.
“I’ve missed you baby sister.” She links our arms and rushes us inside. The walls that once haunted me, don’t hold the same impact as they once did. If anything, I feel more at ease than I ever have. Isla guides us into the living room, flopping down on the sofa with a thud.
“So, spill. Tell me everything.” Her eyes glisten with joy while softly patting the space next to her, gesturing me to sit. Not wanting to deny her the gossip, I sigh and fall back into the comfort of the cushions, telling her pretty much everything that has gone down. Considering this is Isla we’re talking about; she manages to curb her enthusiasm surprisingly.
“So, you two are back on again?” She raises an eyebrow, asking the million-dollar question. Officially? We’re not. But unofficially? I want him in my life. I can’t run from the feelings he creates and astonishingly, I don’t want to.
“Pretty much.” The grin that fills my face causes Isla’s face to screw up in distaste.
“Uh. You’re sickeningly cute. I’m jealous.” My smile drops but Isla holds her hands up in front of her, stopping my inner thoughts from creating havoc on me.
“Not of you and Nathan. Just of the love you both have. I wish I had that.” Her voice is low, and I cock my head to the side trying to understand what she’s saying without saying it.
“I take it things with Jax didn’t end well?” I’ve got to say, I’m slightly disappointed that they couldn’t work things out. It was clear that he’d move Heaven and Earth for Isla. And that’s only based on seeing the guy a few times. However, the guys on a one-way trip to becoming a Rockstar, so I’m guessing that has played a huge part in their relationship.
“They didn’t really begin. Can’t end something, that you never had to start with.” The sheen to her eyes tells me there’s a lot more to that particular story. I’m about to pry when she jumps up, wiping away the stray tear that had begun to trickle down her cheek.
“Anyway, enough about that. I’m in the mood to shop. I think we could both do with a bit o
f retail therapy ready for tonight.”
“Isla…” My voice trails off, wanting to ask so many questions but knowing Isla, I’ll never get the answers to.
“B, don’t. Honestly, everything is fine. Things just didn’t work out the way I wanted them too. I think we both were living in this fantasy land that we could save each other, when in reality, it was self-destructive. He has huge dreams that don’t involve a recovering alcoholic girlfriend.” My mind reels, wondering whether she’s fallen back into her old ways.
“Before you ask, I haven’t drunk a drop of alcohol. You can trust me Isabella. I don’t ever want to become that person again. You probably don’t remember much about how I acted. But I sure do and I’m ashamed of that.” Her honesty rattles around my brain while my mind tries to search for anything to cling to, in terms of a memory of her. Nothing comes to the forefront, though I’ve already realized that my brain chooses to remember things in its own time. I can’t force myself to remember what she was like and in all honesty, I don’t want to. Isla told me about her drinking problem immediately after she realized I couldn’t remember how bad it had really gotten. The fact she didn’t try to hide it from me, shows me how far she’d grown, and I respected her a hell of a lot for that.
“I trust you, Isla. I know you wouldn’t lie to me.” My words hit her hard, the unshed tears from earlier, fall down her cheeks. I pull her towards me into my arms, trying to soothe her. I’m not entirely sure why she’s so worked up about all this, but I go with it, knowing that right now she needs the comfort.
“I’m sorry, I have no idea why I’m so emotional.” She laughs a dry laugh, and her smile doesn’t feel quite real, but I don’t argue.
“Shopping then drinks tonight. Non-alcoholic of course. It would just be nice to hit the town and have some fun. You down B?”
“Hell yes. Let me just take my stuff upstairs then I’ll be ready.” Isla nods before waltzing to the wooden mirror that hangs above the mantlepiece. She primps her appearance, fluffing her hair up and wiping away the smeared mascara.
I roll my eyes while grabbing my bag and head upstairs to my old bedroom. Guilt washes over me when I open the door to reveal the room. Everything is exactly how I left it. Posters adorn the walls, some curling off at the edges. A thin layer of dust sits upon the furniture, though judging by the lack of build-up, Isla must come in every so often to clean. It’s weird that everything in here feels so personal yet distant at the same time. A throbbing pain in my temple brews the more I try to link anything.
My phone vibrates halting me in my tracks. Praying its Nathan, I grab it and realize I’m disappointed to only see a text of Roxy.
Roxy: Hope everything’s okay Izzy! Text me so I know you’re alive and haven’t been consumed by the almighty god Nathan. ;) P.S you’re welcome.
I snort at her blatant lack of subtly while typing out a quick reply saying everything was fine and that I’ll see her when I’m back. Man, she’s going to be pissed when she realizes I’m holding out on her, but she’ll get over it.
I toy with the possibility of texting Nathan and asking him what we are but decide against it. He’s already controlling most of my thoughts, and if I’m honest, I’d rather have that particular conversation face to face rather than text. At least that way I can gauge his response. It’ll be easier to decipher his motives if I can see him.
Isla shouts up the stairs, bringing me out of my Nathan induced fog.
“Come on B. Get your ass down here so we can go!” Slipping my phone away, I dutifully follow her out the door. Meanwhile, my thoughts are motivated by one thing and one thing only: Nathan freaking Hartley.
18
Nathan
Driving away from Isabella, I try to keep my emotions in check. I watched her trail up the porch steps, arm in arm with Isla and all I could think was how Isla has the potential to ruin everything between Isabella and me. My brain and heart are at complete odds with each other. I should’ve told her. Regardless of what Isla thinks is best for her, Isabella has a right to know what went down that night.
Scrubbing one hand over my face, I make it home in record time. Maybe my mom can shed some light on the situation and talk some sense into me. Before I even get out of my truck, the front door swings open and she stands in the threshold, a huge ass smile beaming on her face. I can’t help but mirror the response as I race up the pathway and hug her. The familiar smell of her lasagna invades my senses.
“You need to visit more often son.” Her expression matches her tone and I’m almost afraid to respond.
“You know why I didn’t,” I murmur while brushing past her to follow the smells of homemade cooking. My ma follows me and points to the table, which is already laid. I pull out her chair, and then settle in my own, the delicious aroma making me drool slightly.
“How is she?” The questioning tone has me narrowing my eyes at her. My mom always did have a soft spot for Isabella, even after what she did to me, my mom always tried to fight her corner.
“She’s fine.”
“Did you tell her?” My jaw tenses, trying to think of a way that I can lie to my ma without her knowing. The silence only intensifies my guilt. After the night I fucked up, I turned to my mom. It was eating me alive that only Isla knew my sins. I needed reassurance that I hadn’t completely ruined my life by thinking with my body rather than my brain.
“You need to tell her Nathan.” I drop my fork, the thought of food now no longer appealing as I excuse myself to escape her intense scrutiny.
The race to my bedroom nearly has me stumbling over my own feet while my vision clouds with guilt and anger. I close my eyes trying to calm myself, but all I can see is blood on my hands. Reaching out, I grab the closest thing to me and hurl it across my room. It doesn’t help, I still feel the rage I felt that dreaded night.
The night that Isla showed up before that crucial basketball match, claiming that she knew, what really happened to Isabella on the pier. The sadness I felt, seeing a picture of me looming over Isabella after I’d rescued her from the depths of the ocean, trying to save her. The anger I felt, when in the background, I noticed a figure watching us. A lone figure of her ex-boyfriend Noah.
It was all so fucked up; I wasn’t sure what to believe. Isabella didn’t remember anything, and I was too busy getting a blanket from the car to realize anyone was around. Isla was convinced that Noah had something to do with it, but she wasn’t sure what to do with the information. The police weren’t interested and neither of us could be sure what had happened until Isabella remembered. And at that point, neither of u shad any faith that she’d ever remember what fully happened the events from that evening.
Call it fate, call it karma, call it whatever the fuck you like but that night, during my final basketball match against Lake Worth, guess who the point guard for the opposition was.
Fucking Noah.
Isla must’ve known that Noah would be there, and she’d planned it to perfection. Seeing his smug face was enough to push me to the brink, but when he asked how Isabella was, I flipped and tipped over the edge. After the match, I cornered him and asked him what had happened on the pier. His response was typical of a douchebag and he claimed he wasn’t there.
None of it made any sense, but the more I pried, the more wound up I felt. I lost it with him, beating him to nothing more than a pulp. That was when, I realized that I’d completely fucked up.
Isla had a picture but that it didn’t prove shit. Especially since she had no idea who had taken the photo and where it came from. It was so messed up and I realized, I was at one of my lowest points in my life. Not that I’m saying that excused my behavior. I don’t even know what happened to Noah, considering I hightailed it away and moved thousands of miles across country. In hindsight, I did exactly what Isabella had done, though my reasons were far more sinister.
A warm touch on my shoulder breaks the memory as I’m brought back to the here and now.
“Nathan…” My mom’s soft voice c
auses the rage to subside, but the guilt is still there, gnawing away at my subconscious. Using one of the techniques she’s taught me, I use my five senses to ground me. Spotting five things I can see. Feeling four things I can touch. Listening to three things I can hear. Sniffing two things I can smell. Recognizing one thing I can taste.
“Forgive me for being so blunt boy, but you need to tell her. She has a right to know, and you can’t move past this until she does.”
“What if she doesn’t forgive me, mom?” My voice wobbles, the feeling of losing her again ripping me to shreds.
“What if she does though? You love her. Does she love you?”
“She’s not said as much but I think so. But that’s still all before she knows about my past.” My ma sighs and pins me with steely look.
“You’d be surprised how love can conquer all. Regardless of your mistakes. Now get yourself ready. You’re going to her whether you like it or not.” Her arms cross in front of her and if it weren’t such a dire situation, I’d laugh.
“She actually wants me to go out with her and Isla tonight.”
“Brilliant. Get up, stop wallowing, man up and tell her.” She walks out of my room, leaving me alone with my own thoughts. Of course, she’s right. I need to just get it over with and tell her, regardless of my fear. By the time I’ve showered and changed, the nerves are like a full-on wrecking ball swinging in my stomach. My mom heats up some of the lasagna though I barely touch it. My fingers keep straying to my phone, checking to see whether Isabella has text me. The clock ticks past seven and I start to worry that something has happened. Surely they would have gone out by now, especially since I can’t imagine Isla would want to spend too long in a bar with her past.
The distractions of the mindless drivel on tv doesn’t work as I suck down the dread. Maybe Isla’s changed her mind and told her and now Isabella hates me. I almost text Isla asking what the hell is going on when my phone chimes with an incoming notification.