“Why don’t you block her number?” I question, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I will. Right now.” He walks to the other side of the living room, scoops his phone off the floor, and hurries back to me. He blocks her number without another thought.
I’m not sure I believe him, but with no other proof, how can I fault him?
My phone vibrates again. When I see Travis’s name, I power it off.
Now, I’m sure that he slept with Claire. I just didn’t want to believe it.
I’ve been in a relationship with him for four years. He was the guy I was going to spend my life with, the one who was going to make all my bad days better, but not anymore.
I was once head over heels in love with him, but that was a long time ago. It faded over the years along with the butterflies that would dance in my stomach every time he smiled. Those days are further in the past than I care to admit.
I held him on a pedestal, something I never should have done. But I knew, in the back of my mind, if I stayed with Travis, I wouldn’t ever truly be happy. I wouldn’t have that fairy-tale love story. But I didn’t leave, and I only have myself to blame for that. Over the last year, I knew I was wasting my time, but I chose to stay, not heeding the warnings of my family and friends.
I slow to a stop in Arya’s driveway, throwing the car in park. She’s been my best friend since the day she stole my cherry sucker when I was seven years old. She yanked that sucker right out of my mouth and plopped it into hers. The long brown braids she was sporting gave off a fake sense of innocence.
“I love cherry. It’s my favorite,” she said before walking off, taking that cherry sucker with her.
I sat on the slide at the school playground, dumbfounded.
Love at first sight. Or better yet, love at first lick.
She’s been my partner in crime ever since.
She stood by me through all the teasing I endured in high school. She didn’t care what the other kids said about me. To her, I was Raegan, her best friend.
Whenever I walked the halls at school with her by my side, no one bothered me. They knew, if they said a word while Arya was around, she would kick their ass. She wasn’t afraid of being expelled or getting in trouble at school for defending me. All that mattered to her was that I was okay.
Sure, the teasing annoyed me, but I never went home and cried about it. Hell, I didn’t even acknowledge the other kids at school, but I knew it made her feel better to protect me, so I let her have her way.
With my shoulders slumped, I make my way to her front door, unlock it with my key, and throw it open, welcoming the citrus scent that engulfs me as I step over the threshold.
“Arya!” I yell, my voice echoing through her house.
“Raegan, is that you?” Her voice drifts from the top of the stairs.
“Who else would it be?” I ask, closing the door behind me. “Aren’t I the only one who has a key? If I’m not, I’m highly offended,” I tease her.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She blows me off without a second thought.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I mosey into her bedroom where she’s folding clean laundry. I collapse on her bed next to the pile of clothes, causing a few pieces of clothing to fall to the floor.
“We’re done.” A crushing weight falls on my chest. It’s the moment I was waiting for—the second when everything comes crashing down, reality breaking through my anger and hurt.
She picks up the clothes from the floor. “Are you breaking up with me?” she questions, swatting me with a sock as her hazel eyes shine.
“Travis,” I say, watching the blades of her ceiling fan go round and round. When I look over at her, the expression that crosses her face is one of relief. “I see that, you know.”
“Sorry.” She winces, throwing the clean sock she hit me with back in the pile on the bed. “I’m sorry. Tell me what happened,” she says, sincerity lacing her voice.
I know she hates him. Everyone hates him.
Everyone but me.
I tell her all about Blondie and Travis screwing against our bedroom wall and how he tried to defend himself. It was a lie, all of it, everything that came out of his mouth. The excuses about the women who threw themselves at him. An excuse he would use whenever I saw women getting a little too cozy with him. Our whole relationship was a lie. I was the one who listened to my heart.
Fucking heart.
“I can’t believe that jackass was cheating on you,” she seethes. “You’re too good for him.” She shoves the clean clothes to the top of the bed and lies down next to me. “You deserve someone you don’t have to question at every turn.” She holds my hand in hers, squeezing. “I know you’re hurt, but you’re better off without him.”
She’s right. It’s for the best because Travis doesn’t deserve me, and I certainly don’t need him.
And, while I might be strong now, even with pain creeping into my heart, I know the tears will come when I least expect them. I’ll break down because, no matter what he did, he was part of my life. A part I never thought I would lose.
I loved him, despite how much of an ass he was.
Jax
I pull my jeans on and button them at the top. Bending over, I pick my white T-shirt up off the unfamiliar floor and yank it over my head, wanting to get out of this room as soon as possible.
“When can I see you again, Jax?” the naked girl lying in bed asks, red hair a knotted mess. A girl whose name I can’t seem to remember.
I hate this part. “I don’t know.” I run a hand through my short brown hair, scratching the back of my head. “I’m, uh, pretty busy.” I’m not, but I don’t sleep with the same chick twice.
I did once, and she became unnecessarily clingy. There’s no way I’m letting that happen again. One and done. That’s the way it’s been for the last two years.
“You know where to find me when you’re free,” she coos, her shrill voice cutting through the air.
I nod my head. “Yeah,” I say, slipping my shoes on as fast as I can. “I’ll see ya later.” I take two giant steps to her bedroom door, needing to escape before she can sink her claws into me.
When I step out of her room, I breathe a sigh of relief. I pace toward the staircase, my eyes connecting with the giant chandelier hanging from the ceiling, visible from the second and first level. I grimace at the gaudy light fixture and the three bold Greek letters hanging above the grand front door. I jog down the stairs, ignoring the feeling of utter dread creeping in my chest, eager to sneak out the front door before anyone spots me.
No such luck.
“Jax, baby,” an unfamiliar voice calls from the balcony of the second floor I’m currently fleeing. Her voice reminds me of someone who is talking to a toddler, squeaky and sugary sweet.
Why do women think their baby voice is a turn-on? It’s not.
I turn my head, refusing to fully turn around, as I move swiftly down the rest of the stairs. Her long blonde hair and tight dress earn her a once-over, my eyes roaming her slender body, but I shake my head, refusing to let my hormones control me—at least while I’m in this house.
Instead of encouraging her, I say, “Sorry, I’ve gotta go.”
She pouts. Literally pouts with her bottom lip jut out and arms across her chest—also not attractive.
Hitting the last step, I rush to the front door, slipping out of the sorority house before anyone else sees me.
I know better than to hook up with a sorority chick. But Lisa? Laura? Whatever the redhead’s name is cornered me, and I can only push away a girl so many times before I crack.
I should feel bad, but I don’t, and I know that makes me a world-class dick. I don’t make promises when I sleep with a girl. They know my reputation around school. I don’t do dates, second hook-ups, or girlfriends.
I didn’t get scorned by a girl, like most people assume. I didn’t have a girlfriend who broke my heart and turned me into a player. I simply don’t have time for relationships, nor
do I want to get involved with anyone. I don’t have time to worry about someone else’s feelings when I have to keep my own world turning.
I turn down the street, hunkering down as a gust of wind sweeps through the air, flitting through the thin material of my T-shirt.
Everything I do is to keep the one person I love safe. Okay, getting laid only satisfies me, but every other second I have, I devote to her. I breathe for her, and I’m doing everything in my power to ensure she has the life she merits.
I throw my head back, looking to the morning sky like it can tell me I’m doing right by her. But it offers nothing, so I drop my head, staring out in front of me.
She’s the only girl in my life, and it certainly isn’t anyone who attends this school. It’s easier this way. At least, that’s what I tell myself.
My course load is enough to make anyone crazy. I’m working my ass off to keep my grades up for graduate school. So, even if I wanted a girlfriend, I really, really don’t have time for one.
Ten minutes later, I arrive at the house I share with three other guys, grateful for the short walk since I have a mountain of schoolwork to finish before tomorrow.
Walking through the house is like navigating a minefield. Living with three guys has its perks—low costs, constant parties, and always someone to play video games with. But it also has one major con—guys are disgusting. I’m a neat freak. If anyone were to walk into my room, they would think I had a maid who cleaned it once a week, but I don’t. I like my shit put away, unlike the other guys I live with.
I sneak into the kitchen and grab a bottle of water out of the fridge before I’m stuck in my room for the rest of the day.
“Walk of shame, huh?” Graham asks, coming up behind me, slapping me on the shoulder.
Graham’s just like me. He sleeps around and has no remorse for his actions, but he’s not a dick about it. We’re both up-front. Girls know what they’re getting into with us. They just like to play dumb when we try to leave after the deed is done.
“Is it considered a walk of shame if I have no shame?” I smirk, twisting the cap off the bottle in my hand and taking a drink.
“I suppose not.” He leans against the counter opposite me with a lopsided grin. “Who’d you piss off this time?”
“Some sorority chick,” I say, placing the cap back on the bottle.
“Don’t you know better than that?” He quirks a brow, his brown eyes full of amusement.
The last time I got involved with a sorority girl, she got pissed when I refused to see her again. The bitch keyed my truck and egged our house. She also told every girl she knew that I had an STD. I got tested to prove I was clean, but I still have that damn scratch down the driver’s side of my truck.
I shrug. “I didn’t know until she took me to her house.”
“I’m not cleaning up your mess again, so you’d better hope she doesn’t retaliate.” He chuckles, running a hand over his buzzed light-brown hair.
“It’ll be fine.” I head out of the kitchen and call out, “Later,” over my shoulder.
I pass a couple of guys on the couch, zoned in on ESPN like the newscaster is telling them footballs are raining down from the sky.
Tripping over an empty beer can, I catch myself on the stair banister, coming face-to-face with my dog, Walker. He jumps up in excitement, licking my hands and arms as I stand up straight. He’s a golden retriever and a giant teddy bear.
“Missed you, too, bud.” I scratch the top of his head and pat him on the back. “Let’s take you out.” I grab his leash off the bottom step and hook it onto his black collar.
I let him do his business outside in the front yard, waiting patiently as he finds the perfect spot to pop a squat, and that’s when I see her. A girl runs in front of the house on the sidewalk, not giving me the time of day—or she just happens not to see me lurking.
Her short blonde hair rests at her shoulders, bouncing with each of her strides. I can’t see much else because she’s hiding herself under a baggy sweatshirt that swallows her small frame, but it doesn’t matter because what I notice is the way she holds herself. Confident and discouraged, like something has broken her spirit, but she’s fighting to maintain that she’s strong and she can persevere through whatever threw her a curve ball.
I don’t need to see her figure that’s veiled by her clothes. I can tell she’s beautiful. She runs with a slight smile on her face, like she’s thankful for the world around her. The way she moves down the street has me captivated in a trance, wishing I were one of the people she’s grateful for.
Walker bumps my leg, but I keep my eyes glued on the girl who has my stomach in knots and chest tightening.
I take a step toward her but stop when I realize I have nothing to offer her. But that fact doesn’t stop my heart from beating wildly as her eyes skirt over me before she runs past me.
I watch her disappear, her slender body turning into a small dot until she vanishes all together.
I exhale, my lungs burning, not realizing I was holding my breath the entire time.
Walker barks at my side, yanking my attention away from the spot I last saw the mystery girl and bringing me back down to reality.
Stupid.
When we’re inside, I let Walker off his leash, and I head upstairs, locking myself in my room. I start on my homework, forgetting all about the enigmatic girl who managed to stir something in me I’ve never felt before.
I do my homework as fast as I can, hoping to have time to visit the one girl in my life, but by the time I’m done, the sky is pitch-black, and I know she’s fast asleep.
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, getting rid of the crust that formed overnight, as I head to the kitchen. I wish that was a sign of a restful night’s sleep, but it’s not. After I crashed, for most of the night, I tossed and turned, worrying about the girl who stole my heart four years ago.
I bite the inside of my cheek as hard as I can. I worry about her living in her house, defenseless, wondering if I’m doing right by her. My mind reels constantly, praying she’s safe, praying she doesn’t think I abandoned her. I can’t be there for her as much as I want to, but I do the best I can.
If you stopped screwing anything in a skirt, you’d have more time with her.
I shake my head, clearing my thoughts, needing to focus on anything besides her.
Opening the kitchen cabinet that’s filled to capacity with protein bars and snack cakes, I pull out the lone box of cereal. I unroll the plastic bag inside and pour cereal in my bowl before taking the milk from the fridge.
“Jax, some chick came looking for you,” Trent calls from the front door. He strolls toward me, not having a care in the world.
Trent reminds me of a hippie, laid-back and down for anything as long as he doesn’t have to put in too much work.
I dunk my spoon in the bowl and take a bite. “Who was it?” I ask around the food in my mouth.
“Said her name was Lacy.” He picks up the box of cereal and sticks his hand inside, pulling out a handful of dry cereal and shoveling it in his mouth.
Ah, Lacy. That’s her name.
“What did she want?”
“Probably another round. I told her you had fallen ill and that I would gladly take her for a ride.” He winks.
“I’m going to guess that earned you a slap in the face.”
“Something like that.” He laughs, running a hand through his chin-length dirty-blond hair. “One day, they’ll learn. Hell, how they don’t know that you don’t do repeats is beyond me. You should start picking smarter women.”
Smarter women don’t do one-night stands. The girls I sleep with are willing to get down with anyone. Chicks like Lacy move on to the next guy after a couple of days of being ignored.
The girls with a strong head on their shoulders are the ones who can be broken. They get attached, and their hearts shatter because they become invested in the guy. They want a relationship, not a fling. Like the mystery girl from yesterday. Ther
e’s no way she’d settle for anything less than my whole heart—something I don’t have to give.
“Where’s the fun in that?” I joke because I’m not about to explain my reasoning to Trent. I put my empty bowl in the dishwasher and sidestep him. “Have fun with my seconds.”
His laugh booms through me as I make my way out of the house, ruffling Walker’s fur before I leave.
When I step into the crisp fall air outside, I half-expect to see the mystery girl still running in front of the house, but I don’t. I silently scold myself for wanting to see her again.
I shove my hands in the pockets of my jacket and push all thoughts of the mystery girl away.
Raegan
Heartache hit me like an ocean wave. It built for some time, rolling through me, collecting all it could with its force, and then it beat me like a wave crashing on the shoreline. All at once. Consuming and overwhelming.
I cried for days as my chest heaved and nose ran. I was a mess.
Arya took care of me, bringing me clean tissues and sappy movies. It’s the only way to let it out. Force it by watching every romance movie you can, and then it’s over. You can move on and not think twice about it—about him.
That’s what I convince myself will happen. It’s hard to erase every memory, all traces of someone. It’s almost impossible. Because, regardless of how hard you try, memories seep through your mind, reminding you of the person you once loved.
But, in those moments of crying and watching movies that had me balling every five minutes, I wished I had one thing more than all the candy in the world. A tiny fur ball who likes to curl up in my lap, making me smile more than Travis ever did. I’m an idiot for leaving her behind, but I shove it away, knowing I’ll get her back, no matter what.
I shove the covers off me and leave the comfort of Arya’s bed as leftover snotty tissues fall to the floor. I stumble over to her closet, rummaging through her clothes. She won’t mind if I borrow something, seeing as I left everything at the place I used to call home.
I find a pair of yoga pants and throw them on along with a loose-fitted T-shirt. I yank Travis’s old sweatshirt, which I found in my car two days ago, over my head. I’m fucking wearing his clothes, still hanging on to a sliver of him.
The Road Without You Page 2