by London James
Flipping my hair over my shoulder, I grab my purse and strut out the bedroom door and down the steps. Raised voices echo through the lobby, and as curious as I am, I head straight to the front door.
“Everly, wait!” I hear from behind me. I tense up for just a moment, but then realize it’s not Rowan’s voice.
I turn to see Gray, his big blue eyes pleading.
“You can’t leave me here!” Gray reaches for my arm.
“I don’t even know you,” I say, trying to rip my arm free of his soft hold.
“I know. I’m okay with that, but I need out of these stone walls. Please.”
Right as I’m about to open my mouth, Rowan comes storming out of the living room and stops in his tracks when he sees me and Gray. His eyes go from my face, to Gray’s hand on my arm, and back to my face. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Out,” I attempt, with a shrug of my shoulder.
“With Gray?” he asks, and the familiar deep rumble in his voice reverberates through the air.
“No. Unless he really wants to.” Be nice, Everly. Be nice. Don’t say anything stupid.
“You think you can put on a pretty dress and I’d forget anything ever happened between us?”
I scoff and rip my arm free from Gray, “You’re going to find this hard to believe, Rowan, but the world doesn’t revolve around you. My world doesn’t revolve around you. Not anymore.” I open the door, turn on my heel, and walk toward the car. Snow has started to fall. It’s light, barely there, but it feels good.
And it’s Rowan’s favorite season. I hate that I know that.
“You made sure of that, didn’t you?” he shouts after me.
I don’t say a word as I get into my car and spin out on the driveway until my tires gain traction. I don’t know where the hell I’m going. I don’t know what I’m doing, but what I do know is, I need to get away from Rowan Michaels as quick as possible.
School break can’t end soon enough.
Chapter 3
Rowan
I lean against the frame of my bedroom window and watch Everly burn rubber as she spins out of the end of the driveway. My fists clench together when I think about her. A lot of anger, a lot of regret, and so much pain, I can feel myself drowning in it. It’s like the biggest tease, fighting for a breath because the surface is right above me. It’s there, holding all the air I need, but my legs are weighted down, and I’m swallowing water with every attempt to get to the surface.
No matter how hard I fight, I can’t reach it. And I just keep drinking it in—keep drinking her in.
And don’t get me started on seeing my best friend’s hand on her. It made me see red. And that’s another thing that bothers me. It shouldn’t make me see red. I shouldn’t fucking care who touches her, but I do. The thought of anyone else pleasing her the way I did, making her moan the way I did, the way her nails scratched down my back…
My own nails drag against the wall. The sound isn’t enough to unclench my jaw or stop the drywall from drifting into a cloud of smoke and leaving indentations in the wake of my madness.
Once her taillights are out of view, I punch a hole in the wall. I pull my hand back, wincing in pain, to see blood decorating my knuckles.
“You want to tell me why you’re being such an asshole?” Gray interrupts from behind me.
“Not really.”
“Too fucking bad. You brought me here, and I’ve never wanted to leave somewhere so much in my life. You’re going to sit down and tell me what is going on. Everyone seems so nice and that Everly chick is hot! If this is about her being your stepsister now, who cares, you aren’t blood related.”
“Don’t talk about her,” I growl with warning and look at the window, hoping to see her headlights coming down the driveway again, but I know it’s useless. She isn’t coming back for a while. I drop to the bed and sigh, flexing my hand to make sure nothing is broken.
“Ah, so it is her.” The bed dips next to me as he sits, and a large exhale leaves my lips.
“Yeah, it is.”
“Can you let me in? Because this living situation is awkward as fuck.”
I laugh before pinching the bridge of my nose. I really don’t want to talk about this, but she is affecting my mood, so it’s only fair. Gray knows nothing about Everly. I’ve never mentioned her. I never wanted to talk about it because she hurt me so bad.
“Yeah, man.” I lay my hands on my thighs and push myself off the bed, going to my suitcase where I’d tossed her picture like it didn’t mean anything.
I say the feelings are up to debate, but that picture means everything. I unzip the main section of my bag, take the picture out, and give a small smile to the people in the photo.
“This was us four years ago,” I hand over the precious memory that money could never buy and sit down again as I wait to see his reaction.
“This is you?” He rubs the glass to get more of the dust off. “Oh my god, it’s baby Rowan,” he jokes, but it dulls down to a soft, more serious chuckle. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so happy, man. On a real note, I’ve never seen you look at any other girl like that.”
“Because there has never been any other girl like her, Gray. I’ve known her since I was five. Hell, I snuck into her bedroom window almost every night just to watch TV. I didn’t know how in love with her I was until I was seventeen.”
He whistles and hands the picture back to me. “So what happened?”
I run my fingers through my hair and tug on the strands a bit as my mind takes me back to the night of the bonfire. “What didn’t happen?” I say in a low breath as it escapes my chest. “I never wanted to tell her how I felt, but it was getting harder and harder to be around her. We acted like a couple anyway, always sitting next to each other, spending all of our time together, holding hands, my arm around her. It was just natural, being with her. Fuck, I don’t know man.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“Why aren’t you giving me shit for this? I figured you’d jump all over me for being all mushy.”
He looks off into the distance and squints his eyes. “I know I can be a jokester, but I know when to be serious, and this issue between you guys is serious.”
I stare at him for a minute, debating whether I should divulge my secret. Fuck it; maybe I’ll feel better when I let the cat out of the bag. “We gave in. It was the night before we left. I went to Berkeley; she went to NYU. They were our dream schools.”
“So, what happened? Stop pausing and get on with it,” he nudges my side.
“We had sex. It was both of our first times. I had dated other people and fooled around, but she had never kissed a guy. She admitted she wanted all her firsts with me. Sounds cheesy, but it was the best night of my life. I felt like we finally found our way to each other, and we could finally be in love instead of exhausting ourselves being friends.”
I take the frame from him and stare at the photo of us. “I decided then I wasn’t going to go to Berkeley. I had made up my mind lying next to her in the cab of my truck. I was going to talk to her when we woke up that morning, but I woke up, and she was just gone. She left, and she stopped talking to me. Completely ghosted me. I tried reaching out. I texted and called her just about every day, but she never responded. I stopped trying after six months. I don’t know what happened. And here we are. She hurt me, bad. She betrayed my trust. Everly has been the only woman I have ever loved, and probably will ever love.”
“Then why hold on to all this anger? Why not try and fix it?”
“Because she broke it. It’s up to her to fix it.”
“Sounds like a lot of pride and stubbornness coming off you, man. I wish I could help, but I’ve never loved anyone like that. I envy you for having that experience. I can’t imagine that, though, loving someone your entire life just to give up on it after one bump in the road.”
“It wasn’t a bump. I tried talking to her. She wouldn’t talk to me, Gray.”
“Honestly, I t
hink both of you are being kind of irrational about it. I think this will all pass. You’ll realize it. We are still young. I hope when you realize it or when she does, it isn’t too late. It’s just a shame. Thirteen years of love and friendship, ruined.”
“What are you getting at, Gray?” I’m starting to get a little impatient now. He doesn’t know the situation. He doesn’t get it.
“Well, thirteen years of love, memories, and friendship, broken over one night. It’s been two years since you have talked?”
“Yeah, so?”
“I mean, the friendship must have not meant that much to either of you if you guys were willing to give up thirteen years. It’s sad.”
“She’s the one that didn’t try!”
“I know, but it doesn’t mean you had to stop. And you let your anger with her get in the way of your relationship with your dad? Man, all those years ended, for what? Some teenage mistakes?” He slaps my shoulder, yawns, and gets to his feet. “Well, I hope you work it out. All this mushy shit has made me sleepy.”
And there it is.
“Night, Gray. Thanks for listening. I’ve never told anyone that before.”
He knocks on the frame of the door and smiles, “Man, that’s what friends are for. I’ll bust your ass for it another time when you aren’t face to face with the love of your life. Who is also your sister.”
“Shut the fuck up.” I throw a pillow at him, but he shuts the door just in time, and his laugh carries down the hall until he enters his room.
I can’t help but wonder if he is right. I look out the window again and see the snow coming down a bit harder now, and there is still no sign of Everly coming back. I stare at the picture in my hand and know Gray is right. It still doesn’t change anything, though. I’m not ready to talk to her. I’m not ready to forgive her, and I’ll be honest, I don’t know if can. I didn’t throw away thirteen years. She did.
And it does hurt because I look at all relationships differently now. The effort, the time, the emotion, I don’t think it’s worth it anymore. Everly took that from me, and I’m still working on trying not to see new relationships through a veil of fog, but two years later, I can’t see anything through the thick.
I sit the picture frame face down on the nightstand and flop down on the bed. I stare at the ceiling, thinking about all the years of memories we made together. It is fucked up. All those years as friends, sharing our closest memories, and she ruined it. It’s time that I let it go. And I don’t mean the last two years.
I mean the last fifteen.
I can’t live like this anymore. I’m ready to let it go. And these past two years, I had no idea how angry I still was until I saw her in my dad’s house this morning. All those feelings I had pushed aside came roaring back. It slammed into me hard, and now I can’t turn them off.
I don’t know how long I lie in bed, but it’s long enough that the house is quiet, and the night is at its darkest, and my eyes are finally starting to get heavy when headlights beam through my bedroom window, and a car door slams.
Everly.
I turn to my side and debate on going to talk to her when I hear the door close to the room next to me. I get up and walk over, pressing my ear against the wall to see what she is up to.
“Blaire, I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. I wonder if she is still living the punk goth fantasy.
“Yes, he really did say that. No, I don’t know if he knows I heard what he said.”
I pinch my brows together, wondering what the hell she is talking about. I haven’t spoken a word to her.
“Listen, he said for his friend not to waste his time. And he said that I’m not a good person, so that’s that. And no, I don’t want you to kick his ass.”
“Damn it,” I mutter under my breath. Guilt churns my stomach. I said those words to Gray out of anger; I didn’t mean them.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s fine. Yeah, I met a guy tonight, and we have a date tomorrow.”
A date? I push away from the wall and start to pace next to the bed. This is exactly what I wanted, isn’t it? To bury the last fifteen years and move on with my life? But now that she has taken my advice, I don’t like that the tables are turned.
If she goes on this date, it could lead to kissing, sex, or worse a relationship, or worse than that, marriage. Then I’d lose her forever. And I don’t have her now, but she’s always been my Everly, even if we aren’t friends right now.
I have to sabotage that date.
I mean, it’s the only thing that could make this situation worse, and then maybe, just maybe, we can finally go our separate ways and pretend we didn’t love each other for the last fifteen years.
At least that’s what I tell myself. It isn’t because somewhere deep inside me I know that she’s mine and is supposed to be with me. Everly can’t be with anyone else.
Chapter 4
Everly
Want to know a secret?
I don’t have a date tonight. I only told Blaire that to get her off my back about needing to move on and ‘sow my wild oats’ while I’m still young and pretty. Her words, not mine. I have never felt the need to do that.
The only one I ever felt that for hates me, and it’s my fault, and that’s something I’m going to have to live with forever because I don’t ever see that changing. I flip over to my side and sigh, putting my hands under my cheek as I look at the out of place door that connects to Rowan’s room. Of course, I picked the room right next to his.
Subconsciously, I knew that when deciding where to stay. I chalked it up to not being here for so long, but my soul tugged to him, and I couldn’t ignore that. Not while being this close to him. It’s sad, knowing at one point we were as close as two people could ever get, and now I have to settle for being in the room next to him.
If it was up to me, I’d be in another country.
I roll to my back, pulling the covers up to my chin and debating whether I want to get up or not. If I stay in my room, I’m safe. I don’t have to see my previous lover and future stepbrother or have awkward ‘family’ breakfast.
Ugh, freaking put me out of my misery already. I shove a pillow over my face and scream until I have no more breath in my lungs.
“Huh, that oddly feels better,” I say to no one but myself.
This house is going to be my new home away from home now. The place I come to because my mom is here, shacking up with his dad. No, I’m sorry. She is in love and happy. I get it; the Michaels men are irresistible. I don’t blame her for falling for him. It would be hypocritical of me if I did.
Five more days. I can survive five more days, right?
“Don’t be a coward, Everly,” I mumble to myself and toss the covers off my body. I shiver as the cold air drapes over my skin like another blanket, and I run to the bathroom to turn the hot water on in the shower.
I shuck off my large Metallica t-shirt that I stole from Blaire and toss it on the floor. I don’t listen to them, but it’s so comfortable, and I’m pretty sure she stole it from a guy because it’s huge. I remember when I used to wear Rowan’s shirts or hoodies. A small grin plays at my lips from the memory. His hoodies were so soft and engulfed me, falling to my mid-thigh. And they always smelled so good.
Oh damn, did they smell good. Rowan’s choice of cologne was always expensive, and I wonder if he still wears it or has a new scent now. I hope not because it would be tragic. I remember being sixteen and lying in bed, smelling the sleeves as I fell asleep because it made him feel that much closer to me when he couldn’t stay over.
I depended on him to fall asleep. He brought safety, his arms, his body, everything about him, and when he couldn’t spend the night, he’d always leave his hoodie behind because I told him one time I couldn’t sleep without him, and it worked like a charm.
I don’t know where that hoodie is now. I know I never gave it back, so it’s somewhere in my apartment up in New York. My hand
goes to my chest, and my heart starts to ache, and tears start to brim my eyes again. The last two years have been easy living with the pain because I haven’t had to see him—out of sight, out of mind. It’s true. The feelings I’ve pushed aside have slammed into me, sending me into a frenzy of emotions. And now I have to actually deal with them.
I stare at myself in the mirror and move my hair over my shoulders, covering my breasts. He always liked my long hair.
Oh, I have an idea. I throw it up in a messy bun and rinse off in the shower real quick. I toss on a tank top and jeans and spray my perfume that I’ve worn since I was fifteen. I almost forget my purse, but I grab it on the way out. My feet echo down the steps, and when I get to the lobby I turn towards the kitchen where I hear Gray, Rowan, my mom, and Mr. Michaels talking.
“Good Morning, sleepyhead,” my mom kisses me on the cheek, and I snatch an apple from the bowl in the middle of the counter. I do what I can not to make eye contact with anyone because that means I’d get roped into a conversation, and that’s the last thing I want right now.
Mr. Michaels puts down his newspaper and stares up at me through his bifocals. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
“Oh, I’m going to go get my hair cut,” I grin, biting into the crunchy apple.
Rowan chokes on his orange juice, and Gray slaps his back. “What do you mean you’re cutting it?” His eyes are watering from the cough, but he still manages to narrow his eyes into slits.
“Oh, you can’t cut your hair, darling. It’s too beautiful,” my mom laments, running her fingers through the long locks.
I know my hair is pretty. It is the one thing I’m confident about in myself. It’s a pretty honey brown color, long with natural waves. I’m lucky, but I’m done having long hair, and it may or may not have to do with Rowan.