Lost Love

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Lost Love Page 9

by Nicole Casey


  "I guess he needed to liven things up," she shrugged and smiled brightly. She knew how naughty she was, and I actually loved that she embraced that. "But I can't go now, and you are the most fun person I know. There isn't anyone else I would've asked."

  Admittedly, that was a little flattering, but I wasn't done yet.

  "So this isn't a set up then? You aren't sending me on some crazy blind date?"

  I'd been dating a bit recently, and it was safe to say that I wasn't having the best time of it. I'd met some very strange people along the way... weird, but not wonderful. It had put me off, and I was putting that side of my life to bed for a while. I didn't need it forced back on my way before I was ready.

  "Don't shut down that idea until you've seen him!" she announced happily while pulling her cell phone out of her bag. "He's absolutely gorgeous. Just your type."

  As I examined his picture on her screen closely, I had to admit that she was right. This was exactly the sort of guy that I would chase in a bar, if I were still doing that. He had dark, cropped hair, piercing green eyes that stared deep into my soul, and broad-looking shoulders. There was also a very adorable dimple in his cheek. Shit, he actually had my heart fluttering in a way that it hadn't done in a very long time. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all...

  "See, I told you that you'd like him," Hayley announced happily, seeing right through me. "So, you'll do it, right? It's a free trip out of the city with a gorgeous, lovely guy. There will be lots of booze, food, fun... weddings are fun, aren't they?"

  Oh God. Was I actually about to do this? Was I about to agree to what really still seemed like a blind date, however much Hayley tried to convince me otherwise? Then again, what could I lose? Life wasn't perfect recently; I was getting so frustrated with my boring office job to the point where I wanted to scream. My novel writing ambitions weren't going anywhere. Despite how much time I spent writing and desperately trying to find myself a literary agent, I didn't have strong feelings for anyone... Maybe a time out from real life was exactly what I needed. And if it led to a bit of fun with a seriously hunky guy, then that was just an added bonus, surely?

  Maybe Hayley was right.

  Maybe I could use a weekend of fun.

  "Okay," I finally conceded. "I don't know what it is about you, Hayley, but you always seem to make me do crazy things."

  "Honestly, you'll love this. It'll be so much fun. Bryant is awesome, and I just know the pair of you will get on. You both love me, so why wouldn't you love each other?"

  "Are you a bad influence on him too?" I teased, nudging her playfully.

  "Yes, of course," she was totally unashamed by this. "Which just gives you a conversation starter. You can discuss me and how awesome I am."

  I laughed loudly and returned back to my drink, this time with a new emotion flowing through me. It had been a long time since I'd felt anything other than disdain for life, and I was actually really enjoying it. Maybe this Bryant would be the one to turn everything upside down. It felt like I'd been bored to death for so long that I'd never be excited again.

  Maybe, just maybe, this would be the weekend that changed everything.

  "So it might be best for you to tell me a bit more about Bryant," I asked Hayley, trying to keep my tone as innocent as I could manage. "Just so I don't go to this wedding knowing nothing about him?"

  But I didn't feel like I was fooling Hayley at all. She looked like a cat that got the cream, like she'd been doing some successful matchmaking.

  "Okay, sure, what do you want to know? What he does for a living, how old he is, or what his shoe size is?"

  God damn it! I couldn't get away with anything with this girl... then again, I wouldn't be without her either!

  Chapter Three

  Bryant

  He said yes, you're going to have a whale of a time... I tried to allow Hayley's words to flow through me as I anxiously waited for my mystery wedding date, Max, to open the door.

  Still, I wasn't convinced.

  My moment of madness when I allowed myself to get swept up in the image of a heartbroken Tony was killing me now. How the hell was I supposed to get through this whole traumatic weekend with someone I didn't know? I should've trusted my instincts and brought her with me instead. At least I knew for a fact that I would've had fun with Hayley; she would've made the nightmare seem a lot more fun...

  "Oh hi," my face actually broke out into a big smile as I saw the man from the pictures come to life in front of me. I'd been attracted to him before, but now in the flesh, I realized that he was even better looking than I'd first realized.

  He was absolutely gorgeous. He actually had butterflies flapping in my stomach.

  "Max, is it?"

  "Erm, yeah. It's good to meet you."

  It was hard to read his expression, if anything he looked totally bewildered by the whole situation, but as he extended his hand to shake mine, my confidence levels grew. At least he seemed alright with this nightmare. Okay, so Hayley hadn't told him it was a plan to get back at my ex at my command (I really didn't want to seem like the saddo who couldn't get over my past... even if that was how things were) so he wasn't fully aware of what was going on, but he seemed okay with it all regardless.

  "So..." there was a little bit of an awkward silence hanging in the air, but we managed to dispel it by chuckling like idiots.

  "You up for this? I have to warn you, though, that my sister is a bit of a bridezilla."

  "Oh God, really? Okay, well that should make for some interesting fun. At least there's a free bar... there is a free bar, right?"

  "Oh of course. I wouldn't put you through this torture without booze, would I?"

  As he grinned at me, my heart fluttered a little with excitement. This was actually the sort of man that I usually liked, one with a cute face, nice hair, and a fun, loving personality. If things were different, then maybe...

  No, God, I couldn't start thinking along those lines. I didn't want to start making it more complicated by adding anything else into the mix. This was mental enough.

  "Anyway, shall we get going?" he grabbed his bag and locked his door behind him. "A wedding with a bunch of strangers... it should be fun!"

  At that moment, I felt a little bad. If I thought this was bad for me, I hadn't even considered what it'd be like for Max. He wasn't going to know anyone at the wedding.

  "I'll be by your side, don't worry. It won't take long for you to know me."

  As Max sat in the passenger's seat of the car, and I slid into the driver's chair, I felt an intense heat emanating from him. It was almost as if there was a chemistry sizzling between us, one that I couldn't yet explain. Sure, Max was hot, but I never usually fell for someone without knowing him well. Tony and I were friends for nearly two years before we got together. Maybe that was why it was so damn hard to recover.

  "So, can I ask you a few questions on the drive up?" Max asked me curiously. "Is that cool? I don't usually do this sort of thing, so I don't know what's normal."

  God, he was so normal for someone so hot. Just because Hayley liked him, didn't mean he was going to be cool. I was well aware that he could've been a total ass, but it seemed like I was in luck.

  "No, me neither. Let's just muddle through this nightmare together. Ask away, I'll ask you some stuff too."

  Actually, that could be better. The more that me and Max knew about one another, the more convincing we'd be as a couple. Now that I was on board with this crazy plan, I wanted Tony to think that I really had moved on.

  "Okay, so you work with Hayley, right? At the printing press. Is that what you want to do?"

  I didn't like to admit that I didn't really have any career ambitions, and that I was quite happy about the job I already had. I was one of those people that worked to live, not lived to work. I was happy with the way I was, but sometimes I felt like it made me sound a little... lame. "Actually I'm a wonderful singer," I joked. "I'm just waiting for someone to notice."

  I sent Max
a wink so he knew I was teasing, and he joined right in with my game. "Oh yeah? Please give me a song. Maybe I know some people."

  I burst out into a very tuneless rendition of a very popular pop song, losing all my inhibitions along the way. I felt free enough to act a fool around Max. He just had that calming presence that made everything seem alright. He even started to join in by the time I reached the chorus.

  "Oh yeah," he eventually burst into peels of laughter. "I can really see it. You're the next big thing, for sure!"

  "Thank you, I'm glad it's clear to you too. Honestly, I was starting to think that no one would ever spot my awesomeness."

  It was fun joking around, but I wanted to know more about Max too.

  "So, what is it that you do?" I asked.

  "Well my day job is one that I hate. I work in an office that sells toner. It's very boring, but what I really want to do is write. I've actually written quite a few books. It's just a case of getting them published."

  Damn that was interesting! Now I wished that I really did have a talent for singing, compared to Max I felt really boring. "What do you write?"

  "Fiction, in the thriller genre mostly. I like writing crime novels that keep the reader guessing until the very end. I don't know how good I am, but I love it all the same."

  "I would love to read some of it! I read a lot so that would be awesome. If you don't mind?"

  "Yeah, it would be cool to know what you think. The only person who has read them so far has been my mom, and she has to tell me that I'm amazing."

  He nodded, agreeing with me, before launching into the details of the plot of the favorite book he'd written, and while he talked I realized how much his passion shined in his eyes. He was gorgeous normally, but as he discussed his work he went off the charts. His whole body seemed to shine with the thrill of it all.

  This was actually the first person that I'd felt attracted to since Tony, and that felt good. In my heartbreak, I'd forgotten how good it felt to be in that first flush of attraction. It had adrenaline coursing through my veins, and excitement buzzing in my stomach.

  This was going to be a very interesting weekend....

  ***

  Thanks for reading! Look for The Wedding Date out now on Amazon. Be sure to follow Nicole Casey on Amazon and sign up for the newsletter here to be notified when future books are available.

  Bonus Story: Hot Flash - Book Description

  Give him your latest novel, Ariana says. It’ll be the best way to thank him, she says.

  Yeah. If only it were that easy.

  After all, Dylan is a firefighter who runs into burning buildings to save lives. It’s how I met him—and how, after a freak accident at my apartment complex, he saved my life.

  What could he ever see in a guy like me, who’s little more than a writer who sits in front of his computer all day?

  I guess Ariana is right.

  There’s only one way to find out if he’s interested.

  Chapter One

  Smoke.

  I smelled smoke.

  My initial reaction was to roll over and simply fall back asleep—to return to the post-haze of dream during which time I had been running out of a burning building—but when the fire alarm went off, causing the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck to rise, I knew something was wrong.

  “FIRE!” I heard my parrot screech from the living room. “FIRE!”

  Fire?

  Where?

  It couldn’t be—not here, not in this apartment.

  But all the smoke—

  It took only a fraction of a second for me to bolt from the bed and make my way into the other room—where Scottie, the Amazon red-crowned parrot, was screeching up a storm.

  “Fire! Fire! Fire!” the bird screamed, frantically flapping his wings inside the cage as if the currently nonexistent flames would consume him at any moment.

  “I know,” I replied, trying my hardest to keep calm while my parrot continued to scream bloody murder. “Everything’s going to be all right. Everything—”

  “FIRE!”

  The parrot was reduced to hysterics in but a moment, his screams piercing the near-quiet of the night and causing my ears to ring. Panic pumped through my bloodstream—both at the sound of my pet’s distress and because I could not find the source of the fire—and as such caused me to lose track of time. Moments seemed like minutes, minutes like hours. Desperation took hold as I fumbled for the latch that opened his cage, then as I reached in to grab him.

  “NO NO NO NO NO!” the bird screeched. “NO NO NO NO NO!”

  “It’s okay, Scottie,” I said, taking hold of the parrot and pulling him close to my chest as I made my way toward the apartment’s front door. “Everything’s going to be fine. Everything—”

  “FIRE!”

  I recoiled as a plume of smoke belched from underneath the front door.

  Fire—

  Fire—

  Outside the door.

  How were we supposed to escape if we couldn’t even get out the front door?

  Unless—

  I swallowed a lump in my throat as I turned to the nearby window. The fire escape was there, tempting me with its unholy passage, its trembling heights. I knew little of its condition or how well-maintained it had been over the past few years of my residency, but regardless, I couldn’t bother to wait.

  After tightening my hold on Scottie, I made my way to the window, wrenched it open, and set the bird on the balcony outside. “Stay,” I urged.

  “Fire!” the bird screamed.

  “The fire’s not gonna get you out here,” I replied, trying my hardest to remain calm. “I have to grab one more thing. Okay?”

  “Fire!”

  I tried to contain the blossoming panic in my chest as I turned and made my way to the nearby dining room table, whereupon my laptop—complete with all the writing I had ever written—sat. I instantly grabbed it and made my way toward the window—where Scottie, desperate as ever, flapped his wings and instantly stepped up onto my finger before frantically crawling up my T-shirt and onto my shoulder.

  “Go!” the bird said.

  “I’m going,” I replied, looking down at the stairs below me.

  I couldn’t believe it—could absolutely, one-hundred-percent not believe it. I was on top of the fourth-story fire escape and was expected to crawl down with both my parrot on my shoulder and my laptop under my arm? How was I going to do this?

  Rather than debate on how I would accomplish the goal, I decided to take the incentive and began to make my way down the metal stairs. Barefoot and only in my pajamas, Scottie on my shoulder and my gleaming white laptop under my arm, I shivered as a quick gale came up and stirred the white-blonde hair atop my head.

  Though I could not see where exactly the fire had started, I deduced it had occurred somewhere on the fourth floor, as the further down I went, the clearer the air became. An enormous relief lifted from my chest as I realized we were out of immediate danger, but the further down we went, the more I began to dread potentially falling off the fire escape.

  The stairs—they were rocking.

  The frame—it was shaking.

  The metal beneath my feet, rusted as it was, looked ready to burst at any—

  I had just pressed my foot down onto the next step when the next section of the fire escape gave out below me.

  “Shit!” the parrot screamed. “Shit!”

  “Scottie!” I cried, more out of the habit of disciplining him for swearing than anything. I stumbled back and landed with enough force to jar my tailbone and stir tears from my eyes.

  The bird continued to chorus No no no no no! as above us the fire continued to burn, as the flames quickly consuming the fourth floor began to encroach upon my apartment.

  All my clothes, I thought. All my stuff.

  I shook my head.

  I couldn’t start worrying about material possessions now. Besides—they were mostly books. Lots of books. Thousands of dollars worth of boo
ks that I’d collected over the course of the past ten years, books signed by authors who were dead or retired or otherwise indisposed.

  I shook my head, then, as the sound of approaching sirens began to draw near. “Hear that?” I asked Scottie, cupping my free hand to my ear as I adjusted the laptop in my grasp. “That’s the firemen. They’re going to come and save us.”

  “Now!” the bird cried.

  I hope, I thought to add, but didn’t, less I terrify both myself and the bird.

  Below, the dilapidated fire escape continued to shift, groan, bend as the corroded metal morphed and snapped. Then it fell—hard—to the alleyway below, creating a cacophony of sound that caused people watching from across the street to turn their heads.

  “Help!” Scottie cried.

  “Are you all right?” a woman in a winter coat called.

  “We’re trapped up here!” I called back. “We can’t get down!”

  “No no no no, no no no no!”

  I cupped my hand to Scottie’s body and drew him close to my neck in an effort to both calm and warm him. Eventually, his screams faded, turned to whines, then sobs resembling that of a toddler. I couldn’t help but shed a nervous tear myself over the predicament we were in.

  If the fire continued to spread—if it jumped floors and started to burn through the third and second passages—then there would be absolutely nothing we could do.

  The sound of the approaching fire truck was enough to stir me from my thoughts. I watched the massive red vehicle as it made its way down the road and toward the apartment complex—hoping, to God, that they would hurry and save us before it was too late.

  “See the fire truck?” I asked, pointing toward the vehicle. “They’re coming to get us!”

  “Now?” the bird replied.

  “Now,” I said. I stood and raised an arm, waving my hand in the air as the men and women inside the vehicle began to disembark. “Help!” I cried, to which Scottie added a Help! of his own. “We’re trapped up here!”

 

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