“Bye, Livia.”
“Bye, Killian.” She tried to smile for me, but it wasn’t her normal, brightly lit smile. She grabbed her bag and walked towards the door, sparing me one last glance before disappearing into the airport.
My ride back felt empty, like I was heading back to the reality that my life was now gray again, and when I saw the truck, it truly set it. Livia had taken the color with her, and there wasn’t dick I could do about it.
After loading the bike back up, I grabbed my phone and did the only thing I wanted to do. My fingers grabbed the little piece of paper with her handwriting on it, ignoring the envelope I assumed held the cash I wanted no part of.
Killian,
*Our theme song*
Long Drive by Jason Mraz.
515-555-9809
Your Woman Forever.
I turned and grabbed my phone from its charger in the front. I pulled up YouTube and typed in the song to hear what she deemed our theme song.
When the lyrics started to ring true to my heart, I knew she nailed it. I wanted many long drives with her; I wanted her as my copilot forever. When the song was over, I wanted to ask her for her address in Florida, so I could meet her there and tell her we’d make it work.
But that was selfish. She had her family to think about, and her whole life that she didn’t think about during her time with me.
Instead of texting her my love like I had planned before listening to her song, I chose something else. A theme song of my own. One that told her everything I hoped for her in her life, and I prayed it would help those tears that were caused by her pain of leaving ease.
My Wish by Rascal Flatts. – Killian
I threw my phone on my bunk and knew the only thing that was going to help the pain was getting back to work. So that’s what I did. I sat my ass down in the seat, and put my rig into gear, leaving D.C. and the only love I’ve ever known behind me. I wish someone would have warned me that love could hurt like this. But even then, I would have still chosen to feel its bitter sting, than to never have experienced her at all.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Livia
“So let me get this straight: You paid a trucker to let you tag along around the U.S., let him screw you mindless, fell in love with the bastard, then he all but made you leave so you could be with your family?” My friend Kate sat across from me in her office. Despite not wanting to be on the road again, seeing truckers everywhere and looking for him, I had to see my friends.
Kate Stewart and Meghan Quinn, authors extraordinaire, and two really good friends. We met at a book signing in Orlando, and clicked right away. Our love of books sealed the deal. I didn’t talk to them as much as I wished I could, but when I asked if we could all get together, they made it happen. So here I was, sitting with them in South Carolina at Kate’s house.
“Yeah, pretty much.” I’d been having a really hard time since I left Killian three weeks ago.
“Your dad’s doing better?” Meghan, my blonde friend, asked, and I nodded.
“Yeah, he’s home and on a diet. Which he isn’t too happy about, but he has to clean it up.” When they told him he needed to cut out the red meat, I thought he was about to have another heart attack. Mom hugged me so tight when she saw me, and I’d been there for them since. Until today, when I drove here.
“So back to the part where you fell in love and got fucked by a trucker.” My red-headed friend Kate couldn’t keep quiet about that. Neither of these women had a filter; it was one of the things I liked the most about them. They always kept it real with me.
“Then we parted ways, and he sent me a song. His final farewell. I haven’t talked to him since.” I was too afraid to call or text.
“Gotcha. So why aren’t you hunting his ass down?” Meghan inquired, and Kate agreed with her question. That was the question, wasn’t it? Dad was fine, Mom was fine. So why wasn’t I trying to find Killian?
I groaned and stretched back on the carpet, my hands over my face.
“I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you know, baby?” Kate was serious right now.
“My whole crazy trip was supposed to help me figure out my life, and all it did was complicate things more. He’s probably long gone on the road now. Shit, I just feel so lost. I want to be with him, but I still don’t even know what I want for myself.” I sat back up and looked at the girls. They were watching me with uninterrupted attention, waiting for me to continue.
“After Julian died, I felt so low. Then there was everything that happened with Lane and that bastard friend of his. I sold my business, not feeling like I fit in it anymore. I guess I could just take time and do nothing. I have the money from the business, but that will eventually run out.” I took a deep breath and kept going, more for myself rather than them.
“How can I give him all of me, when I feel so incomplete?” It was the honest truth.
“Oh, baby. You’re not incomplete. If anything, that man helped heal you up. I mean, you should have seen your face when you were telling us about your wild trip.” Kate smiled and held out her arms for a hug. Meghan joined in seconds later.
“What do you want, Liv?” Meghan pulled back first, and uttered her question.
What did I want?
“I want to figure out what to do with my life. I need a passion. Or a hobby. I want to move out of my parents’ house. I want a sign from the gods, telling me what to do.” How was that for an answer? Both the women looked at each other, a silent conversation going on between them.
“Meghan and I always thought that your skills in graphic design were awesome. Those teasers you did for me, and that cover you did, were great. Maybe you should give that a try again.” Graphic design for the book world. It was something I dabbled in briefly, but Lane shut it down as a hobby because it took time away from him. I did enjoy it, especially when I got to sketch on the computer.
“Yeah, they were boobtastic!” Meghan smiled, and I couldn’t help but laugh at her use of the word boob. She had a thing about boobs.
“As far as your parents’ house—move. Go shack up with a sexy trucker, and ride off into the sunset in his beastly truck.” It sounded so simple.
“Thanks, guys.” We all stood just in time for Kate’s husband to yell out that dinner was here.
“Avoiding the issue isn’t going to make it go away, baby.” Kate tried to make me understand, but I was starting to close my mind to all ideas for the moment.
We ate dinner, while I listened to the girls tell me about their writing and upcoming releases. Writing was something I was never good at; I was more the artsy type.
“Has that dick of an ex tried to see you since you came back?” Meghan asked while chewing on a bite of pizza. I sighed in annoyance.
“Yeah, he’s tried. But I’ve successfully avoided him.” Lane has been calling constantly and even showed up at the house a few times, obviously not getting the hint. Kate’s husband edged out of the room, obviously trying to get away from the girl gab, and Kate was waiting to jump on me with more questions.
“Tell me about the sex with the trucker. I need some good stories for my books. Was he a dirty talker? Tie you up? Take your ass?” I felt my cheeks turn beet red.
“Oh, truck yes. Look at that face.” Kate had taken to my “truck yes” slogan. Meghan was giggling and clapping her hands.
“I agree with Kate. We need some deets.”
I rolled my eyes, but proceeded to tell them some of the glorious details. We didn’t keep anything from each other.
“Oh, fuck me.” Kate would mutter here and there, and Meghan would simply fan herself when I went into explicit detail.
At the end of the night, we all settled down to watch Ace Ventura: Pet Detective, since Meghan hadn’t seen it, and Kate and I really thought that was a crime we should have punished her for. So we forced her to sit and watch Ace do his thing.
Right before bed, I held my phone in my hands, staring at Killian’s message, like I did a
lmost every night. I missed him so much. It was almost like our whole trip was a dream, and not something that really happened. But like every night, I couldn’t make myself do it. I had to figure myself out first before I tried to make things work with him. I knew it deep in my bones that it was the only way things could work.
“You really think my graphic design was good?” I asked Meghan. We were sharing a bed in Kate’s spare bedroom.
“Yeah, it was really great.” She yawned and rolled over to go to sleep.
I looked up at the ceiling and listened to her breathing level out as she fell asleep.
“Tomorrow, Livia, you’re going to work towards who you want to be.” I smiled to myself, feeling like I was finally heading in the right direction.
Chapter Thirty
Killian
“Don’t know why you dragged me out here.” I took a sip of the beer in my hand and looked around the bar Joel had forced me to.
“You need to get out,” he replied and eyed the women that had surrounded us, plausibly picking out who he would be taking home tonight. That made me so glad his house was large, so I wouldn’t hear whatever noises he and his lady would be making.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“Okay. Then since you’re perfectly fine, go find a chick to bring home.” He was calling my bluff, and he would win. I couldn’t think of any woman but mine. Then the fact settled in that she wasn’t really mine anymore.
I shrugged, and he smiled.
“Have you checked in on her? Made sure she’s doing all right?” he prodded, and my head shook no. If I started talking to her, there wouldn’t be anything that would stop me from going after her.
“I still think you should. Might help.” He was trying to help me, like he’d been doing since I called to tell him she left to go home. He flew to my house, when he knew I would be arriving, just so I would have some company. But then he had to get home and sign some papers for that movie, so I tagged along, doing anything I could so I wouldn’t think of her all hours of the day. So far that plan failed, but I was still going with it.
“Hello, lips.” Joel’s voice and shocked face made me scan the crowd for who he had his eyes set on. Tall, deeply tanned skin, dark hair, and light eyes. Definitely his type. She was looking around, found my eyes, looked me up and down, and then moved over to Joel. Her cheeks tinged with pink, and that all but sealed her night with Joel. He was on the move toward her in an instant. I watched as he put the moves on her, and she just stood there, not throwing herself at him. Odd. Only other person who wasn’t into him was Livia. My Livia.
I heard the smack from across the room. Joel was just shut down by the sultry woman. He walked back toward me, stunned, her handprint on his face.
“Have fun?” I actually smiled at him, getting a kick out of the fact she smacked his pretty, movie star face.
“Chick’s got spunk. Made my dick hard.” He downed a shot and then his eyes found her as she continued to walk around, looking at every guy in the bar. She was on the hunt, and by the looks of it, wasn’t willing to take a try at any of the men here.
“Be right back,” Joel said, excusing himself, walking toward the little stage with the DJ that had been playing music for a man doing karaoke. When he came back, he had a mischievous look on his face.
“What’d you do?” The words were out, and he looked like he was about to answer, but then a swarm of girls latched onto his arms, his waist, anywhere they could. I rolled my eyes at their pawing.
“Okay, next up on the mic is that sultry little devil in the blue sweater dress. Yep, you honey. Come on up.” The DJ spoke right to the woman who smacked Joel, who was grinning big at his plan coming to play. The woman’s eyes found his, and I felt like I needed to move to the side so I wouldn’t be hit with daggers she was throwing his way. She looked at all the girls hanging off of him, and then did something evil—she smirked. Her heels moving her toward the little stage, she leaned into the DJ, picking her song I guess, and grabbed the mic. This chick was brazen.
“This song goes out to all you ladies who think you’re leaving with a prime steak, but really all you got is a hot dog.” Her voice held a hint of an accent. Brazilian?
Her hips started to sway, and then she started singing out the lyrics to “Cowboy Casanova” by Carrie Underwood.
“She is vicious,” I murmured, and then looked at Joel, who was completely transfixed.
When the song was over and her warning made to the women on Joel’s arm, she walked off. I half-expected Joel to chase after her, but he didn’t.
A few minutes later, he announced he was ready to leave. Thank fuck, because I just wanted to get back to the silence. We didn’t talk about the woman who spanked Joel’s metaphorical ass at the bar with her voice, or Livia. We were both confused as hell, and needed time to think.
It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning that I finally gave into sin.
My finger touched the gallery button on my phone, and there it was. The picture I’d taken so I would have something to look at after she left.
Livia, on the deck of the Empire State Building, her whole face in awe of the city.
What I wouldn’t give to see her face like that again, all lit up and filled with wonder.
Thoughts of her, and that night, drove my fingers to act out of desperation.
Ain’t No Sunshine by Bill Withers. –Killian
The song had been stuck in my head for weeks, driving me mad.
As the hours drifted by, it was apparent Livia wasn’t going to text me back anything. She’d moved on in some way. I got my shit together and flew back home, facing the reality that I had to let go of the pain of losing her. She was living her life, and I needed to do that, too. Or at least accept what it was. She was gone. Our time was just a memory now, and that was something to cherish, instead of sulk over.
After a few phone calls, my next month was scheduled out for jobs. I had work to do, a life to keep living. It was time I got back on the rig.
Chapter Thirty-One
Livia
I stared at the text draft on my phone that had been there for two weeks. I wanted to send it so many times, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready yet. Killian missed me, and it was all I could do not to hunt him down. But I was close—I was figuring myself out, and doing okay. I mulled over Kate and Meghan’s words about doing graphic design again, so I started to dabble into it for a few new indie authors. It wasn’t a huge success yet, but I was still working on it. So far, the few people I’d done work for loved it, and loved working with me. I was smiling and feeling better about myself. I just hoped Killian could hang on a little longer until I felt more settled about my life. I had made the decision that I would find him, and try to have something with him. I don’t know how it would work, but I’d come up with a goal. I needed him in my life. He made it better. Whether we’d have a long-distance thing, or whatever, something had to work.
A knock at the door jolted me from my desk chair.
I yelled for Mom, to see if she was by the door, but then I remembered she and Dad went for a walk. Maybe they locked themselves out. I shoved my phone in the pocket of my pajama bottoms, since I was still wearing them and Julian’s old T-shirt. I walked to the door, and swung it open.
“Finally.”
Lane was standing on the front porch, staring at me, with his hands on his hips. He was still the same Lane I’d left. Tall, swimmer’s body, brown hair, brown eyes, clean jaw line, and preppy clothes. A look that now did absolutely nothing for me whatsoever.
“What do you want, Lane?” I held onto the door, my body positioned so it was a clear denial of entry into the house.
“I wanna talk, Livie.” I hated it when he called me that.
“I don’t wanna talk, Lane. I already told you I don’t want to be with you. Get the hint.” I tried to shut the door in his face, but his arm reached out and stopped it. My eyes glared at him murderously.
“I’m done, Lane. Get off my por
ch,” I spat at him.
“I just want to talk. Jesus Christ. Let me in.” He pushed past me into the house and I was fuming. Seriously? I wanted to marry this guy?
He went to the couch and sat down, patting the seat next to him. I looked outside the front of the house, debated on just leaving, but instead I closed the door and walked over to the love seat instead of the couch. I was not sitting next to him.
“Okay, look, I know you didn’t mean for things to happen with Tyler. You weren’t ready to be out with people after your brother’s death, and I pushed you. I’m sorry.” I just rolled my eyes. This guy. He ran his fingers along his collared shirt, popping it up, which made him look ever more like a douche bag.
“We can go back to the way things were. We can still have that wedding at the club you wanted. We can still try for a family, and have the life we always wanted. I talked to Tessa. She is willing to sell your shop back to you. We can have our dream life again.” He was looking at me with pure hope in his eyes. He really thought all of that was my dream, what I wanted in life. I figured it out over the course of my time with Killian, that Lane never really loved me. He never cared about what I wanted. I was just his trophy wife to move around like a pawn.
“That was never my dream, Lane. You wanted all of that. I wanted a wedding on the beach, with just our family. You wanted the two-hundred-plus guest list, and the fancy party. I don’t want to go back to the way things were. Things have changed. I’ve changed.” I felt myself feeling braver by the second. I wasn’t just going along with things anymore. I made my own decisions; I ran my own life.
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