“Give me one, too.” She set her mixed drink down and took a warm can of soda right along with me. “We’re old, Wade.” She swung her flip-flop clad feet back and forth. “I like your sister.”
“She told me to break up with you while you were in the bathroom. Still like her?”
“Why would she do that?” she asked, a hurt edge to her voice I hated putting there.
“Don’t take it personally. She said I’m going to end up doing it eventually, since I can’t let Sab go.”
“Do you think that?”
I thought about it, really hard. “I can’t let her go, Es. But I think I’m starting to consider what it would be like to try.”
She looked away.
“That’s a step, isn’t it?” I begged. She wouldn’t look at me. “Es, baby, look at me.”
When she did, she had tears in her eyes. “Why do you keep doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Reminding me of her. You act like you’re doing it for yourself, but you’re really doing it for me. Like hey, don’t get too comfortable. This is all temporary. I’m not trying to push her away. I don’t want you to. Why do you have to choose between us? Why can’t you have us both?”
She didn’t get it. What kind of monster would I be choosing her second? She was a first choice. A queen to an undeserving king. Love was love, and maybe one day I’d love her just as much if not more, but it wasn’t fair to make her wait; she needed it too much right now.
“Just my luck, to fall in love with a man who’s already in love with someone else.” She gazed out over the party, eyes glossy.
I felt her slipping away, and the feeling made me sick to my stomach. I had to wonder if that feeling was my answer. The pressure in my chest felt like it would explode. Could I do this? Give myself to another person, without feeling I was betraying everything I had, and everything I wanted?
“Es.” I reached for her.
She slipped out my hold, gave me the same eyes she gave me the night she spilled her guts, and grabbed for the bottle of vodka. “You sit here and think about your ex, and I’ll go find someone else.”
I was a grown man. I hadn’t felt like an out-of-control boy in years. But I did, picturing her leaving me for someone else. I wanted to fall to my knees and beg her not to. “I need time, damn it,” I hissed, plunging my fingers through my hair. “I need time.”
“No, you don’t. You know I’d give it to you. A year, two, ten, I’d give you all the time you needed. But you don’t want time, Wade. You want to push everyone away.” Her eyes were as hectic as mine. “What was all of this, if you’re just going to push me away in the end? Was any of it real?”
“It was all fucking real.” I jumped to my feet, stomping over to where she stood. “Don’t do that to me. What you and I had these past few weeks have been… shit, Esmaie, everything. You’ve been everything. Do you know how that makes me feel? To want to forget her so I can think about you?” I cradled her face in my hands. “It makes me feel like a monster.”
She rose on her tiptoes and kissed her forehead to mine. “You’re not a monster. You’re hurting. You’re allowed to be confused. I don’t want you to figure everything out in five seconds, what I want is some hope that this is going to last. I need this to last. I feel it right here.” She patted her heart, her green eyes shimmering. “I need us.”
I exhaled, wrapping my arms around her. I crushed her to my chest, so I wouldn’t have to see her tears. And know that I put them there. The amount of times she’d been disappointed by the people she cared about was high. I didn’t want to add to that list. I didn’t want to lose her. What do I do?
I looked up, finding Joanna watching us. She had a devastated look on her face. “Don’t,” she mouthed.
But she’d told me to breakup with Esmaie, so I wouldn’t hurt her later on. Or… she’d told me that to make me realize how insanely shitty it would make me feel to even consider it. My mind and heart were in an uproar. I wasn’t sure what to do, what I shouldn’t do.
The only logical answer I could come up with also came with a heavy price. I’d never be able to give her all of my heart, and all of my heart was what she deserved. But I could give her the rest of my heart. I just had to figure out how to live without it. “I need time,” I whispered in her ear. “You have to understand.”
Her body stiffened. It was obviously the wrong answer. I didn’t understand what more I could give. What did she want from me? Me down on one knee after just meeting her?
“What do you want?” I growled, stepping away. I pointed at her, but not at her, at her heart. “Tell me, Esmaie. Tell me every single thing you want, even if you don’t think you’ll get it.”
Her lips snapped closed. Heartbreak and… confusion burned in her eyes. I stilled. Why did she look confused?”
“You don’t know,” I realized. “You don’t know what you want.”
It felt like she’d punched through my sternum with brass knuckles on and pounded what was left of my heart into a bloody, senseless pulp. It barely beat, staring into her eyes as her heart broke too. The tortured confusion. Esmaie was lost in her dreams. She didn’t know what it would take to actually have them, because she never thought she would.
She’d hung her dreams over my head, and I felt the pressure every single where I went. And the entire time she had no fucking clue what she was doing with me.
“I know that I want you, Wade.”
She was making it worse. Our attraction was visceral. Purely soul-level, and that was nice, and that was beautiful, but there were so many solid forces that could tear our corporeal attraction apart unless we knew how to build our walls around that. We couldn’t do that if we didn’t know how.
We were doomed from the start.
I had no idea how much of myself I’d put into us, until I felt her slipping away. The bottom fell out of me. I wanted to grab her and never let her go.
Why did the women I love leave me?
What had I done to have love be hard on me?
“I know that I want you, Esmaie.”
Her tears spilled over. “But. I hear a but. There’s always a but.”
“But you don’t know what you want, and I don’t know how to give it to you.”
She reached for me.
I stepped back.
If I touched her right now, I’d give in to what I really wanted. To wrap my arms around her and run away into the clouds. Where dreams existed and didn’t become nightmares.
Two Years Later
Some nightmares give way to incredible dreams.
Chapter Fifteen
Esmaie
As it turned out, memories were far harder to create—and hold on to—when you didn’t even know you were making them.
I’d been so hell bent on holding on to something, I hadn’t known what I was grabbing. Air. Heartbreak. Unsolid scraps of want so extreme it changed me. I didn’t realize how badly I wanted Wade, until he wasn’t there. I learned the difference between want and need. Because now, I needed him. I wanted him before, but I didn’t know why. Looks, comfort—sure, I wanted those things. But what I needed was security, a hug, someone to rely on, someone to move me out of a bad situation in the middle of the night and go through it with me. Someone who suggested we escape our problems out of nowhere because he knew that’s what would fix me.
It hadn’t fixed me.
It had broken us.
I never went back to Iowa. I moved in with Joanna and enrolled at UCLA. I saw Wade occasionally. At Jo’s birthday dinner, where she introduced me as her friend, and Wade didn’t even act like he knew me. Wade didn’t go back to Iowa either. He went to UCLA, too. We passed each other sometimes on campus, and he brushed past me like I wasn’t even there. Thankfully, he finished his last year and graduated with a business degree. I’d started over and was starting my third year toward my goal of becoming a teacher. I took extra classes, cramming in classes like history and English Lit, so when the time came, I
wouldn’t have to teach from a book. I’d teach from my heart.
A few months after Wade graduated, he was picked up by a soccer team in the UK. I hadn’t seen him in over a year. He did to me what he did to everyone who loved him. He ran. He didn’t call. He didn’t email. He talked to Jo, but even she had a hard time tracking him down. But at least I had her. She was my best friend. A real best friend.
She was graduating from UCLA today. She was trying out for the US Olympic Volleyball team on Friday. I was proud of her. But like everything, I felt these things in a bubble. Like watching a TV from a far distance, nothing seemed real to me. I was empty, still dreaming, reaching and failing.
I didn’t think my dreams would ever come true.
“Wade’s here,” her familiar voice whispered in my ear.
I despised how deeply I felt those two words. I felt like a flower who’d been dormant. My petals instantly began to unfurl, reaching for the sun. I kept the reaction off my face, even though she was staring at me so hard I didn’t know why I bothered. She blamed herself for our crash and burn. I didn’t. I blamed myself enough. “He actually came?” She’d been trying to get him to come to her graduation dinner for weeks, playing phone tag with a brother who didn’t plan on being caught.
She nodded. “He has a beard.”
My panties were already wet. “Boring.”
She smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. Her eagle eyes were still on mine. “I may have told him a tiny lie.”
“What?” I demanded.
She reached for the champagne. We were at her parent’s house in Beverly Hills, and Mr. and Mrs. Wright were networking like champions. For some reason, we got along great. They were sweet and supportive of me as their daughter’s best friend. I wondered what they’d think of me as the girl who’d pushed their son away once and for all.
“I kind of hinted at the fact that you were dating someone.”
I didn’t get it. “So?”
“So? And he just miraculously shows up? You think that’s a coincidence? Yeah right. He came because he’s still in love with you. He didn’t come here for me. He came here for you. This is your chance, bitch. Get my brother to realize that you two are meant to be and be together already.”
“He never loved me.”
She rolled her eyes so hard I was surprised they didn’t dislodge and roll around the room. “Oh, shut up, you martyr. He loved you. He still loves you. And he always will.”
“Joanna? The Mitchells are here. They want to congratulate you.” Her mother smiled at me. “You’re so pretty, Esmaie. I love your dress.”
I smiled, flattered. “Thank you.” I was pinched for cash these days, and I was thankful I’d managed to score this at a discount store that sold top selling items at a cheaper price. It was black, strapless, with a slit up the thigh and a diamond cut out of the back that showed off my back dimples. The waist was curved, and the skirt brushed the middle of my thighs. I’d straightened my hair and put on black stilettos.
I looked good on the outside.
Inside, I was numb and restless.
“Sab’s parents,” Jo whispered in my ear. “You want to meet them? Have you yet? I can’t remember.”
I froze. “No.” Her face saddened. “No, not like that. But should I? It feels disrespectful.” I sighed, hating the look on her face. “Okay, let’s meet them.”
She smiled, wrapping her arm through mine. “Good girl, Esmaie.”
The house was full. Joanna was popular. With an infectious personality, incredible taste in books, and an intellect that blew me away, she was hard not to love.
“Holy crap, who the hell is that?” she hissed.
“Who?” I was too busy trying not to bump into anyone.
“Him.” She pointed at a guy shoving hors d'oeuvres into his mouth. “The guy eating all of the food.”
My heart dropped at the sight of him. “That’s Bank. He’s Wade’s good friend.”
“They must be playing together. He told me he was coming down with a friend, I thought it was a…”
“Girl,” I finished for her. “Which was why you lied and said I was dating someone. Good thinking. He probably hates me even more now.”
I couldn’t breathe. Seeing Bank brought back so much memories. Tangled bodies, moaned promises, pleas—in seconds, I was at the pool party and Wade was walking away from me.
“He’s so f’ing hot. Tell me about him?” she begged.
“Later,” I promised, hiding behind her.
She pulled me along, stopping in front of Sabrina’s parents. Their eyes lit up when they saw Joanna. They hugged and talked, like old friends. She introduced me as her best friend, and that broke their hearts. I saw it. Jo saw it. Mrs. Wright saw it.
“Her second best friend,” I corrected her. “She talks about your daughter all the time.”
Jo hugged her arm around my waist. “Basically, I tell her how Sab tried to be as cool as me and constantly failed.”
Her parents laughed and touched their hearts. My eyes watered. They missed her. Jo missed her. Sometimes she’d talk about her and cry, and I’d hold her, until she stopped. She’d talk about the accident that took her life, how she never, never, texted as she drove. She even did a no texting and driving campaign on campus. Because it had been Jo she’d been texting when Sabrina Mitchell crashed.
“I’m going to get some champagne. Hang out and talk.” I kissed her cheek.
She kissed mine right back and put her mouth over my ear. “Unlike Wade, I’m okay falling in love again. You’re my best friend, Esmaie.”
My heart literally broke and melted. I hugged her to me. “You’re mine, too, Jo. I’m so proud of you and so thankful. I couldn’t have gotten through the last two years without you. Stealing my books and dog-earing the pages,” I added, because I mostly wanted to break the ice, and also because she was a monster who dog-eared books. What kind of person did that?
She laughed, knowing exactly what I was talking about. “Oh, by the way, I borrowed your Kindle.”
I groaned, leaving her before I put her in a headlock. I moved through the bodies for one of the waiters walking around with goblets of champagne. I grabbed two. The waiter gave me a look.
“What?” I snapped.
He scurried away, to judge another day.
Wade was here.
My heart was rolling around like it was set on fire, but there were no firemen to put out the flames, no rain from above. It was set to burn because it had lost the one it loved.
For two years, I’d tried. I’d tried to set my dreams on levels that were attainable. A degree, a friendship—I could do that. But every time I went to sleep and woke up to another day without Wade, parts of me gave up. Every time my father sent my call to voicemail, a part of me withered away forever. I’d seen them twice in the last two years. I went home for Mom’s birthday, but she’d been too drugged up to notice, and then again on Thanksgiving, and Dad had been too drunk to care. It would always be that way. They’d lost their dreams, maybe they never had them, and that was their life. I wanted better for them but had to give it to myself instead.
For two years, I’d remembered.
I found myself in the backyard, overlooking the shimmering swimming pool. Summer in LA was nothing like summer in Iowa. The heat here was muggy and intense, sticking to my skin like a sweaty grip. It was too stuffy and crowded in the house. Dinner wouldn’t start for another thirty minutes.
I felt him before I saw him.
My spine tingled.
My singed heart wanted me to look up.
I felt like I was missing something, the same way I’d felt it the day we met in that interview for a new roommate. Nothing had changed. I’d always known we were meant for each other. He was the one who’d never accepted it.
I looked up. He was sitting in the gazebo. His eyes were zeroed in on me. He looked… harder. His beard wasn’t thick, but it was different. His pale blue eyes seemed to glow in the dark summer night. His ha
ir, ugh his hair, it was thick, slightly longer, and it looked like he’d ran his fingers through it all day long. I missed doing that to him. I missed so much of him.
In seconds, I was breaking. I missed him so much it was unreal how badly it hurt seeing him. He was wearing a light blue dress shirt, untucked, and creased blue jeans. Black shoes. He had a beer in his hand.
Our eyes locked like a chain and key clicking together. He unlocked me. My insides connected to his. I felt his hurt, his torment—I felt it all. I hadn’t expected to feel anything on his end but anger. I hadn’t expected his pain to be as strong as mine.
He took a step toward me. I held my breath as I watched him walk across the cobblestone path lain in the thick lawn. He put one of his hands in his pocket, gripped his beer bottle with the other, and stood beside me. His scent washed over me like a hammer, crushing me. It smelled like him. Just like him. I reached out to hold on to the railing.
“I thought my heart had already been broken. I didn’t think my heart could be broken two times. I also didn’t know that it would hurt ten times worse that second time. Like someone reached into my chest and took every single chance of happiness I ever had away from me, leaving nothing but bitter, dark sadness.” He turned to me, putting his mouth close to my ear. “You did that. Are you proud of yourself?”
He hated me. I could feel it. The rancid sadness he exuded was all my fault. He hadn’t spent the last two years trying like me. He’d spent them running and burning.
Chapter Sixteen
Wade
I’d promised myself I’d keep it together.
This day was about Joanna. Forget the last twenty-four-months spent in a hell so damn dark I forgot what light looked like. Until I saw her standing on the back patio like a beacon. There’s where my light had gone. Into her. She’d stolen it, like a thief.
One second seeing her, and all of my self-control had evaporated. I was overcome with hurt, with want, because even though I wanted to hate her, I didn’t. How could I? It was ultimately my fault we’d epically failed. She had nothing to do with it. The only truth we’d ever had was that we’d both wanted each other. We had. That hadn’t been a lie.
The Jock and the Dreamer Page 13