Forever (The Tryst Series #4)

by Marie York

  Forever

  Part Four in

  The Tryst Series

  By Marie York

  COPYRIGHT

  All rights reserved.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the author except where permitted by law.

  Published by

  Marie York

  Copyright June 2015

  Cover Photo by alenkasm

  Cover Design by Cover Up Designs

  Formatted by CookieLynn Publishing Services

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious.

  Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Chapter 1

  Six Years Ago

  I peeled out of Tiffany’s driveway, burning rubber down the street. My hands tightened on the steering wheel as the ass end of my Firebird fishtailed. She was fucking psychotic, and I was sick and tired of her shit.

  For two years, I’d been putting up with her insecurities. Two long fucking years. I wasn’t screwing half of the cheerleading team like she thought. For Chrissakes, I couldn’t even look at a girl without her thinking I hadn’t been balls deep in with her up against a building.

  In the beginning, it wasn’t like that, and I fucking loved her. I still did. I just couldn’t do it anymore. We were done. Over. And this time, I wasn’t taking her back. No matter what stupid shit she said.

  The road curved, and I took my foot off the gas pedal to slow down. I was pissed, but that didn’t mean I had a death wish either. My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I knew, without even looking at it, that is was her.

  I ignored it, and it went to voicemail, but, a minute later, it started vibrating again. By the fifth hang up and redial, I was ready to throw my phone out the goddamn window.

  “What?” I barked into the phone. I was met with sniffles, and Tiffany trying to form words. Son of a bitch. “Tiff, stop crying. Please.”

  “I can’t help it,” she snapped.

  I pulled over to the side of the road, and ran a hand through my hair, as if that would release the tension that was tugging tight across my neck.

  “I love you,” she squeaked.

  I rolled my eyes. She did this all the fucking time. One minute, I was the scum of the earth who didn’t treat her right no matter how hard I tried, and then, the next, I was her soulmate, and she loved me. Love shouldn’t be so hard, though. I knew it wasn’t easy. Watching my parents’ marriage crumble into a million jagged pieces proved that, but it had to be better than this shit.

  Yeah, I loved Tiffany, but the maintenance was too much. I wanted something that was effortless, and not a headache.

  “Tiff, I can’t do this anymore,” I admitted now, just as I had when I screamed at her before peeling out of her driveway.

  “You can’t breakup with me.”

  “I already did.”

  “I’ll kill myself.” I almost laughed. That line had gotten me so many times before. Had me running back to her and wrapping her in my arms. Telling her that was not the answer, and I would never let anything happen to her.

  Not this time. I wasn’t falling into her trap.

  “No, you won’t,” I said.

  “I swear to God, Jaxon. I will.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  “Yes, I will!” Her tone reeked of determination, but I knew it was all part of her plan to win me back. I wasn’t stupid, and I was done being played a fool.

  “It was fun while it lasted, but you and I both know that this is done.”

  She sniffed into the phone. “No,” she choked out before going silent on the other end. The silence was deafening, and even though I was desperate to hang up, I felt I owed her a few more minutes. “I can’t live without you,” she finally said, her voice so quiet I barely missed it.

  “You can, and you will,” I assured her.

  “No. You don’t understand. I can’t. I mean it, Jaxon. I’ll kill myself.”

  Anger surged through me. Enough was enough. I was sick and tired of feeling guilty. Exhausted from our nonstop fighting and her drama. “You know what, Tiff? You’re the girl that cried wolf. You say you’re going to kill yourself all the time, so I fucking come running, and what happens when I get there? You’re watching TV, and acting as if nothing ever happened.”

  “Not this time. You know I can’t live without you, baby. I love you. Please come back.”

  The sadness in her voice was breaking me down, but I refused to give in. “No.”

  “I’m not lying this time,” she screamed.

  My anger mixed with frustration. “Then, fucking kill yourself. I don’t care. Goodbye, Tiffany.” I hung up the phone, and threw it into the passenger side floor. As the phone smacked the floor mat, a sense of calm washed over me. I was free. Finally.

  Two years of constantly reassuring her, and cancelling on my friends so I wouldn’t upset her, and I was finally done with it.

  I drove to Cole’s, and knocked on his door. His mom answered and let me in.

  “He’s downstairs in the basement.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Spencer.”

  I ran down the stairs, and jumped to the bottom. Cole looked up from the video game he was playing, his eye cocked over his glasses.

  “I’m free!” I announced, with my hands in the air.

  “For now. You’ll be back together tonight,” Cole joked.

  “No. Not this time. I told her we were done. She pulled that killing herself shit on me, but I didn’t budge. It’s for real this time.”

  Cole jumped up from the couch, and gave me a high five. “I have my wingman back for the summer.”

  “Hell yeah.”

  “That is, if you stay strong.”

  “I’m a fucking bull. There’s no going back.”

  I grabbed a controller, and spent the next five hours on Cole’s couch, kicking his ass at Call of Duty. I was too tired to drive home so I crashed on his couch. I woke up the next morning to my phone ringing.

  I rubbed my eyes and picked my phone up off the coffee table. Tiffany’s house number flashed on the screen, and I ignored it. I was honestly surprised she hadn’t called me sooner.

  A few seconds later, my phone blinked with a voicemail. Voicemails weren’t Tiffany’s style. She needed someone to actually yell at and argue with. Strange.

  I put the phone to my ear, and listened. There was a lot of sniffling, and then, finally, she cleared her throat, except it wasn’t her voice.

  “Jaxon, it’s Mrs. Jacobs.” Sniff. Sniff. “T…Tiffany’s dead. She killed herself.”

  The phone fell from my hand, and the world, as I knew it, changed.

  Chapter 2

  Present Day

  Lyla rested her hands on my knees, knocking me out of my thoughts. I was surprised she was still there. I thought for sure she’d be locked up in the bathroom by now. After all, I basically killed my high school girlfriend. I might not have been the one to slice her wrists open, but my words meant I practically handed her the knife.

  Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. The woman was beautiful, and I had been stringing her along for too fucking long. She needed to be free of me, and this was her out. She deserved so much better than a monster, and it was about time I stopped being selfish. It was time I did what Tiffany never did for me. It was time I let Lyla go.

  I stood up to head back to my room when her fingers wrapped around my arm. A familiar jolt of heat sparked inside of me at the contact. My dick and my head were
obviously on different pages. “Jaxon… what happened to Tiffany… that wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”

  Lyla wasn’t the first person to try and convince me, and I knew she wouldn’t be the last. Still, no matter what they believed, I knew the truth in my heart. I was a bad person. Downright fucking evil. Any other guy would have rushed to Tiffany’s side and comforted her. Told her all the things she needed to hear. Got her the help she needed. Because the last thing she needed was the guy she loved to urge her to stop crying wolf and fucking do it already.

  My eyes lingered on Lyla’s small fingers around my tense muscles. “Don’t,” I growled.

  “Don’t what?” she asked, as she grabbed my face, and forced me to look at her.

  I closed my eyes, not wanting to see the pity in hers. I didn’t deserve pity. Fuck, I didn’t deserve her naked in front of me.

  “Look at me,” she said, and I blinked my eyes open. This time, I didn’t see pity at all. I saw determination and understanding. “Tiffany obviously had problems. Her death is not on your hands.”

  I ripped my face out of Lyla’s grip, and ran my hands through my hair. “Don’t. Don’t try to take the guilt away from me. I deserve it.”

  She walked up behind me, and rested her head on my back, wrapping me in her arms. “No, you don’t.”

  I relished in her touch, but only for only a moment, before I peeled her hands off of me. I moved away from her so she couldn’t pull me back in. “Yes, I do.”

  “But…”

  “Enough!” I yelled, and my heart wrenched when she jumped back at my tone. I wanted to reach out, and comfort her, tell her I was sorry, but I couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

  I thought I was ready to move on. To put Tiffany behind me, but telling Lyla the story only brought forward the truth. No matter how hard I tried to forget about the past, about that night, that awful morning voicemail, Tiffany lying cold and pale in a casket… I’d never be able to escape it. It was as much a part of me as the air I breathed.

  Lyla glanced up at me, her beautiful brown eyes full of pain, and it only verified what I already knew. I couldn’t make her happy.

  “Please,” she murmured. “Don’t shut me out after you finally let me in.”

  “That was a mistake,” I said, trying to convince myself as much as her. “I should never have…”

  “No! Don’t you dare. Don’t you for one second think that what’s between us is anything but fate.” I shook my head, but she grabbed my face, holding it in place. “There’s a reason we keep coming in and out of each other’s lives. A reason that, out of all the bars I walked into, I walked into yours.”

  “It was a coincidence. It happens all the time. There’s no such thing as fate. Nothing is predetermined because everything is based on your actions in the present.”

  Her hands fell from my face, and she threw her arms in the air. “Don’t go and get all technical with me. You’re being ridiculous. You didn’t kill Tiffany. She killed herself. And, from what you tell me about her, this is exactly what she wanted. She was a master manipulator, and even in her death she’s still controlling your every move! Don’t let her win.”

  My teeth grinded together, and I stepped back, clenching my fists so I wouldn’t pick something up and throw it. “So, what you’re saying is, Tiffany sacrificed her life just so I would live one of guilt? That’s absurd. Nobody in their right mind…”

  “Don’t you get it?! She wasn’t in her right mind.”

  My eyes searched the room, and I found my clothes scattered across the floor.

  “I’m sorry,” Lyla said. “I shouldn’t have said that.” She wrapped her arms around her, covering herself up. Her shyness now reminded me of the girl she was back in college that I dreamed about night after night. Imagining how she would feel beneath my fingers. Wondering if she’d scream when an orgasm overtook her. I knew all those things now, and she was still just as desirable to me as she was then. Which was exactly why I needed to get away. One more second in this room, and I would fold under her touch. One whispered word against my ear, and I’d be a goner.

  I pulled my pants on, and then my shirt, refusing to look at her. Unwilling to believe anything she was saying. She was like the rest of them, trying to make me move on with my life, and let go of the guilt. But the guilt was all I had left.

  “Where are you going?” Lyla asked, and I ignored the crack in her voice.

  She stood there, naked and vulnerable, and even though I knew she was only trying to help me, it didn’t matter. I couldn’t be helped.

  “Anywhere but here,” I said, and then slammed her door behind me.

  Chapter 3

  I was a fool. No, I was goddamn fucking fool. What the fuck did I honestly think was going to happen when I told Lyla the truth? Did I think, all of a sudden, that some magic voodoo shit would come over me and I’d feel relief? Because all I felt was like an asshole. A stupid fucking asshole.

  Once again, I seduced her. Got her in bed, making her think there was a chance, and I wasn’t some fucked up individual. If she didn’t hate me after the reveal of my big secret, she sure as hell did now. The slam of the door couldn’t even muffle her cries.

  I stormed down the stairs with no idea where I was going. All I knew was that I had to get out of there and as far away as possible. I passed the bar, then turned back, and grabbed the bottle of Jack.

  Money was already missing every week. Who the fuck cared if I added even more to my expenses? I sure as hell didn’t. All I cared about was drowning away the memories of the past, and of the broken look in Lyla’s eyes as I slammed the door in her face.

  My car, my pride and joy that I rescued from an old barn in Idaho, sat next to Lyla’s poor excuse for a vehicle. She even named it. Who the fuck names a car? It was stupid, but I remembered how amused I was by it. I also remembered how sad I felt for her when she admitted her car treated her better than most people. And how, in that moment, I realized we had even more in common than I originally thought.

  After my parents’ divorce, I was bounced around between the two of them. Neither one really wanted to deal with me, too caught up in trying to fuel their midlife crisis. I spent more time at Cole’s house then I did either of my parents’. That is, until Tiffany died, and then I disappeared for the summer.

  Cole was shocked as shit when I showed up on campus that first semester. He honestly thought he’d never see me again. I still don’t know why I showed up. College was the last thing on my mind, but as the start date neared, I found myself driving in that direction.

  With the bottle of Jack in hand, I decided to skip the car, and started walking, not knowing where I was going. Usually, I would head to my bar, and have a drink to settle down, but with Lyla there, my home was no longer my safe haven.

  I took a swig from the bottle, taking pleasure in the burn, but no matter how much I downed, I couldn’t get rid of the memories.

  Tiffany, lying in her casket, popped into my mind. I remember walking up to it, and looking down at her wrists. They had her in a long sleeved dress, but the material couldn’t cover the truth. Everyone in the room knew that, beneath the sleeve, was where her life bled out of her. But what they didn’t know, was that I was the reason.

  Ten minutes. That’s how long I lasted at her wake. Ten fucking minutes, and then I was in my car, on the open road, and I never looked back.

  Michigan had been the first place that felt like home since Tiffany’s wake. Even at college, I always felt like I was just visiting. Never really a part of anything, and never wanting to be. It was easier that way.

  Not making roots made it easy to get up and go when times got rough. I couldn’t do that now. My roots here were as thick as red oaks. I was grounded. Stuck.

  Fuck me.

  I took another swig from the bottle, and kept walking. I didn’t know how far I had walked, or how long I was gone. When I got back, I brought the bottle to my office, and put it away in the drawer of my desk. Couldn’t go serving cus
tomers with it after I had my mouth all over the bottle.

  The walk from my office to the apartment door was only feet away, but it felt like miles. As I unlocked the door and stepped inside, I prayed that Lyla was still in her room. The last thing I wanted was to have another confrontation. She didn’t understand, and there was nothing I could to make her.

  I was drunk and tired. The only thing I wanted was my bed. There was a muffled noise coming from the living room, and, as I moved through the apartment, I saw the faint glow of the TV. Lyla was curled up in a ball on the sofa in my t-shirt. Black shit stained her cheeks, and tears, though dry, were visible on her skin. And, fuck if she still wasn’t the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

  I grabbed a blanket from the chair, and gently laid it on her. I had every intention of walking away then, but I couldn’t get my goddamn feet to move. My eyes lingered on her bare legs, and the way she snuggled into the blanket.

  For so long, I had guarded my life, and my heart, and somehow she found a fucking way in. I was pissed at her for it, but more than anything I was pissed at myself for not being able to resist her.

  I slumped into the chair across from her, and, for one last time, gave into temptation, and watched her sleep.

  Chapter 4

  The weight in my bed shifted, and I rolled over, blinking an eye open. My vision was blurry, but I could still make out the perfection that was Lyla naked beside me.

  I swallowed down the desire to yank her against me, and bury my face in those gorgeous tits of hers. “What are you doing? Go back to your own bed,” I said, but she reached out, running her finger down my bare chest instead.

  “You shut me out, don’t kick me out of your bed, too.” She pushed out her already pouty bottom lip, causing my cock to go instantly hard.

  Her hand went beneath the sheets, and a smile spread across her face when she felt what she was doing to me. “See? He wants me to stay.”

  “He always wants you to stay,” I murmured, and then closed my eyes when she began to stroke my shaft. Her touch was the perfect combination between gentle and strong. I sucked in a ragged breath as she kissed my chest and trailed her tongue down my abs.