The Road Without You

by H. M. Sholander

  One of the girls blocks my path, but I don’t give her the time of day, not even bothering to give her a once-over. She trails her hand down my arm, and I shrug her off as I step around her.

  Walker and I head upstairs to my room, the last door in the hallway, navigating the clothes strewed across the floor. I let out an irritated sigh, annoyed because they can’t keep their crap in their rooms instead of all over the house. I kick the clothes out of my path as I walk in my room, closing the door behind Walker.

  I collapse on my bed, staring at the ceiling, as Walker jumps up, lying next to me. Dropping my hand on his body, I stroke his fur, either comforting him or me. I’m positive it’s the latter.

  There are times I wish everything were different. That I didn’t need to use a girl to escape. I try to fill a void in my life, using girl after girl, but the vacant feeling is still there, nagging at my chest each time I walk away from them.

  I really don’t have it that bad. I’m in college after all when some kids don’t even get the chance to finish high school because they’re head of their household.

  But I feel like I should be more than I am, that I should be the one to save Sam from something she can’t come back from.

  I’m going to try to be her hero.

  I just hope I don’t fail.

  I let Walker drag me out the front door of the house as I hang on to his leash. He runs toward the closest bush and pees like he hasn’t taken a leak in days instead of the few hours it’s been.

  I woke up when it was pitch black outside to finish homework and straighten up my room, but now, the sky is bathed in orange and yellow as the sun ascends. I feel like I’ve already had a full day when most people are just waking up to the sound of their alarms.

  Graham strolls up the walkway to the front door with a sated smile on his face and his eyes glazed over.

  “Have a good night?” I ask, taking in his bare chest and boxer briefs.

  “Yep.” He glances back at the car driving away. “A fantastic night, it was.”

  The sprinklers in the front yard turn on, and Graham cusses, running into the house, hollering, “Bye,” as he rushes past me.

  Walker takes it upon himself to move toward the water, but I yank him away.

  We stroll down the sidewalk, and I bury my free hand in my jacket, protecting it from the cold air.

  The rhythmic sound of feet pounding the pavement draws my attention along with the sweet smell of vanilla that invades my senses as the wind sweeps around me. My eyes meet the girl running across the street. The girl who has had me mesmerized since I first laid eyes on her.

  Raegan’s running in the opposite direction, moving toward my house, so I jerk Walker around and move in the same direction as her, walking faster than I was before.

  Her leggings mold to every curve on her legs, showing off her hips and the curve of her ass. The first time I saw her running, she was wearing a sweatshirt but not this time. She’s wearing nothing but a sports bra, and I struggle to keep my jaw off the ground at the amount of exposed skin on her upper body.

  The sun coats her in a soft glow as her blonde hair bounces around her shoulders, but even from across the street, I can see the slight shiver in her arms.

  While in a daze, my grip on Walker’s leash loosens, and in no time, he’s running across the street, barreling into Raegan.

  “Oh, shit,” I mutter, breaking out in a run, as she falls to the ground, tripping over the dog that ran her down. “Sorry about that.” I quickly pick up Walker’s leash and secure it around my hand, tighter than before.

  She laughs as Walker licks her face. “It’s fine,” Raegan says, pushing herself to her knees.

  I hold out my hand to her, and she takes it without glancing up at me, but I don’t miss the pause she makes when our hands collide, skin-to-skin, because it’s the same pause I make.

  Stopping, nothing else existing.

  Thumping, chests working overtime to calm down.

  Breathing escalated.

  Fighting to maintain control of the overwhelming desire coming from where our hands connect.

  Her eyes meet mine, and she jerks away from me. A scowl replaces the shocked look on her face.

  She stands and crosses her arms over her chest, causing her breasts to rise. I quickly avert my gaze, keeping my eyes trained on her face.

  “Are you trying to kill me?” she growls.

  Play it cool, Jax.

  I smile. “It obviously didn’t work.”

  Her scowl deepens, and I find it cute rather than intimidating.

  “It’s not my fault.” I shrug. “Walker’s the one who made you fall.”

  “You should have been keeping a closer eye on him.”

  I was too busy keeping my eyes on you.

  “Well, I can see that you’re fine.”

  She mutters under her breath, something that I don’t catch, before she inhales a deep breath, attempting to calm herself down. “Are you ready to work together?”

  “If you mean, our bodies working together, then I am more than ready,” I answer, knowing I’m pissing her off more with each second.

  “You’re a pig. I’m not a slut like all the girls you know.”

  I look her up and down, letting my eyes trail over her. I’d love nothing more than to have her sweet body under me while she moans my name, but I know that would do more harm than good—to both of us.

  “That’s a shame,” I say, clicking my tongue.

  Tugging on Walker’s leash, I walk away from Raegan, needing her out of my personal space before the cocky facade slips out of place and is replaced with kindness.

  But, before I can make it two steps, I’m tackled to the ground, falling in the grass with a warm body on top of me. I grunt as a knee connects with my side, and I look up to see Walker staring at me with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

  Useless dog.

  Fingers jab me in the back, and Raegan’s voice meets my ears. “You are working with me, damn it. I don’t know who you think you are, but I refuse to do all the work on this stupid project. I will live at your front door if you don’t help me.”

  Her weight moves from on top of me, and I turn over, landing on my back.

  “I will do everything in my power to make sure you don’t get laid until you decide to work with me.”

  I don’t answer her, so she straddles my waist, resting her hands on either side of my head. I can see straight down her sports bra. That, combined with her weight above me, is creating a problem as my jeans start to tighten. I inhale, willing the problem to go away.

  “Fine,” I say, merely because I need her to get off me.

  She smiles in victory, hopping to her feet.

  “But you have to do something for me,” I counter.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Guess you don’t really need my help then,” I say, pushing off the ground and wiping the grass from my clothes.

  She grunts. “What do you want?”

  “There’s a Halloween party at my house in three weeks. Show up, and we can start working on our project this weekend.”

  Her eyebrows knit together as she thinks about if she wants to give me this one thing, so I’ll cooperate.

  I have no idea why it slipped out of my mouth, why I want her anywhere near me more than she needs to be, but I found the words slipping from my mouth before I could stop them.

  I’m begging for a train wreck, for our worlds to come together, when I know it will end in disaster. Like I said before, a girl like Raegan deserves someone who can give her their whole heart. I don’t have anything to offer her, but I’m selfish, and I want to get to know every part of the girl who holds herself up the way I wish I could.

  So, I asked her to come to a party to have another excuse to exist in the same space as her.

  “Saturday. My house.” She shoves her finger into my chest, and I flinch away. “You’d better be there.”

  “I can’t. I don’t know where you l
ive,” I say, being a smart-ass.

  She throws up her hands. “I’ll text you my address. Just be there, damn it.”

  “Let’s do Sunday.”

  Her eyes narrow like she wants to hurl the nearest object at my head. “Sunday at noon. Don’t be late.” She runs down the sidewalk away from me.

  She disappears, and I stay in place, fighting the urge to chase after her and apologize for being a dick.

  Raegan

  I slide into my desk, dropping my backpack on the floor at my feet. Before I can unzip it, knuckles rap against my desk. I jerk my head up and see Nathan standing across from me, his smile wide.

  “Mind if I sit here?” he asks, pointing to the vacant desk next to me.

  I shake my head, apparently unable to speak.

  He drops down into the chair, placing his books on his desk with a loud thump.

  I can feel his eyes watching me as I pull my binder and a pencil from my bag.

  I hate it when you can feel someone’s eyes on you.

  Why are you staring at me? I’m not sitting onstage, putting on a performance. That’s how I feel anyway.

  I toss my things on my desk and fidget with my pencil, tapping it on my binder.

  My eyes shift to him. His short blond hair is gelled, a few pieces standing straight up.

  I’m pretty sure that hairstyle died a long time ago.

  “Any more trouble with the guy?” he asks, craning his head toward me.

  My brows knit together. “What?”

  “The guy with the red hair?”

  “Oh. No more trouble.” I smile, hearing Arya’s voice in the back of my head.

  “Date a guy or two.”

  “Good.” He bobs his head, reminding me of a pigeon. “Plans this weekend?” he asks, his dark brown eyes searching my face.

  I have zero plans this weekend, except for Jax coming over on Sunday, and it’s kind of sad that I’m a senior in college with nothing to do on a weekend. But that’s what my weekends turned into when I was with Travis.

  I cringe. I need to have a life, not be stuck in the same routine I’ve been in for years.

  Before I can answer Nathan, someone clears their throat in front of me. I whip my head in the direction of the sound, thinking the professor is looming over me.

  No such luck.

  “Raegan,” Jax says, a confident smile on his face. “Nathan.” He jerks his head in Nathan’s direction, never breaking eye contact with me, and I hate him for it. It’s like he knows what his damn eyes do to me—making me lose all sense of reasoning.

  “Hey,” Nathan grunts.

  “Jax,” I say, wondering why he’s standing over me, looking at me like I’m doing something wrong.

  “There’s an empty seat next to me.”

  I glance over my shoulder at the desk he usually occupies and see the desk next to his is vacant. Most of the time, it’s occupied by a slutty bimbo.

  My eyes briefly land on Nathan before I look at Jax. “I’ll see you after class,” I tell him.

  Jax has been blowing me off since we found out about our project, so why is he suddenly interested in me?

  Usually, our professor spends the whole hour droning on and on about whatever we’re supposed to be learning, meaning we never have time to work on our papers.

  “Come sit by me now, and you can see me during the entire lecture,” he says, giving me a wink.

  What is he doing?

  My eyes shift between Jax and Nathan, and I feel like I’m being jerked back and forth, like a rope in a game of tug-of-war.

  My life is turning into one giant sitcom. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. If it could be more like Friends, then I would be happy, but this just seems like an enormous fiasco.

  “Why won’t you come sit next to me?” Jax asks, a smirk plastered on his face, when I don’t say anything.

  I should sit with him. He’s my partner on this project, but the fact that Nathan sat down next to me has me stalling.

  “I won’t bite.” Jax grins, and if I were any other girl, I would swoon and follow him, gazing at him the entire class.

  I blow out a breath, my mouth turning down as I peek at Nathan, who’s waiting for my decision as much as Jax is.

  “Date a guy or two.” Arya’s voice echoes in my head again.

  I rip a piece of paper out of my binder and scribble on it before I slide it over to Nathan. He gives me a small smile after he reads it.

  I gather my belongings and stomp up the stairs to the empty desk next to Jax’s belongings—a notebook and pen. No books. No laptop. No backpack.

  How has he made it this far in school?

  I slouch in my new seat, pouting. Jax wanted nothing to do with me until a guy showed interest in me.

  Typical.

  “I knew I could convince you to sit next to me.” He slides into his seat with a cocky grin.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

  He pauses, seeming lost in his thoughts, before he says, “You’re my partner. You should sit next to me.”

  I turn my body toward him. “You didn’t care that I was your partner before.”

  He shifts closer to me, and the smell of mint hits my face, pulling me in without my permission.

  I stare into his gray eyes. I wonder, If I look close enough, will I see what he’s hiding, see what haunts him?

  But, instead of his demons, I see twinkling, a spark of something that wasn’t there before. Compassion? Concern? Curiosity?

  Whatever it is, it’s masked just as quickly as I saw it.

  “I do now.” He shrugs.

  He faces the front of the room, avoiding eye contact with me. I’m about to say something, but our professor walks in, starting the lecture before I have a chance to.

  The way Jax switches gears so fast is like nothing I’ve ever seen. But one thing I do see is that he’s hiding something, and I don’t want to get caught in the cross fire, no matter how bad that sounds.

  Parking my car in front of work, I pull the sun visor down, revealing the mirror on the other side. I use it to apply a layer of red lipstick and a coat of mascara before flipping it back up.

  As soon as I place my hand on the door handle, my phone vibrates in my purse. I dig it out and see a text message from an unknown number. I swipe the screen, and a smile tugs at my mouth.

  Dinner Saturday? —Nathan

  I decided to be bold before I slipped out of my chair in class earlier today, sliding Nathan my number. I’m moving forward, giving an unexpected guy a chance.

  I type a quick response before getting out of my car.

  Me: I’m working then. How about Friday?

  My phone vibrates in my hand as I slam the door shut, heading inside for five hours.

  Nathan: I’ll pick you up at seven.

  It will be my first real date since things ended with Travis. A swarm of emotions runs through me, but the one I can’t deny is bliss, something I never anticipated. It’s been two weeks since our fallout, and for someone who was part of my life for so long, I would have thought I would be more upset, but I’m not.

  When I didn’t unpack for three weeks when Travis and I moved in together, I should have known something didn’t feel right.

  I haven’t been in love with Travis for a long time, and it’s my own fault for letting our relationship drag on for as long as it did.

  I pull open the heavy glass door to the restaurant, walking through the vacant dining area until I reach the kitchen.

  The cook, Rodney, is hard at work, unhooking pots and pans hanging from the ceiling, and the bartender, Will, is fussing with his hair, using a metal spatula as his mirror.

  I chuckle to myself as I toss my purse in my locker on the back wall before slamming it shut. I throw my apron around my waist and wait to be assigned a seating section.

  “Man, it’s days like this I wish we could bring our homework,” Tess whines, wrinkling her nose as she leans against the counter next to m
e.

  I usually end up working the same days as Tess. She’s another waitress at the restaurant. Her light-brown hair is styled perfectly for her pixie haircut. She reminds me of Tinker Bell, the way she floats around this place. I can almost see the pixie dust dancing around her.

  She attends a community college not too far from here. She told me when we first met she barely graduated high school because she ditched so many classes. She could have fooled me because she looks like a rule follower, someone too scared to step outside the lines of a crosswalk.

  “Agreed.”

  I could be getting so much schoolwork done, but our boss has strict rules. While we’re here, we aren’t allowed to do anything else. No homework. No nothing. I understand though. This is a high-end restaurant, and the customers who are shelling out their hard-earned money deserve our undivided attention, but nights like this are pure torture.

  “Raegan, you’ve got a table,” our boss, Ron, announces, sticking his head through the swinging door that separates the kitchen from the dining area. “You were requested. He’s one of our best customers, so don’t screw up.”

  Great. No pressure or anything.

  Collecting my notepad and pen from the counter, I step away from Tess. “Wish me luck.”

  “Don’t trip.”

  I salute her before slipping through the door.

  “Table eight,” Ron whispers as he turns in the direction of his office, leaving me to the anonymous guest.

  I walk around the corner and down a row of booths before I spot table eight, and I halt mid step when I see him.

  You have got to be kidding me. How is Travis one of the best customers?

  I march over to the table, gripping my notepad and pen. My nostrils flare as I breathe in and out, making me wonder if I resemble an angry bull.

  I inhale a deep breath, standing across from Travis and Blondie with as much professionalism as I can muster. “Welcome to The Modern Spoon. What can I get you to drink?”

  Travis has the nerve to smile at me, and all I want to do is knock that smug look off his face. I imagine stabbing my pen straight through his eye and shoving my small notebook down his throat.