by Lucia Grace
Then why does it feel like it’s shattered beyond repair already?
Pulling up to the address Kayson gave me after my shift, I see the small two-story cottage-styled house that he and Ember purchased right before their wedding and honeymoon. Slate gray weathered shingles cover the outside, with black shutters, and a black front door. Small, bare flowerbeds line the front alongside both sides of the front porch, which already holds two white rocking chairs.
It isn’t overly fancy on the outside, but from what Kayson told me about the updated kitchen and bathrooms, along with a master bedroom, two smaller bedrooms, and a fireplace in the living room, it sounds perfect for them. Exactly what Ember wanted, which meant Kayson was giving it to her no matter the cost.
Stepping down from my truck, I slam the door and see their small driveway is full and so is the road along their front yard. A moving truck backed up to the open one-car garage fills most of the driveway with Kayson’s truck parked alongside it, taking up the rest of the space. Three small cars line the front yard and I recognize Ace’s car right away, along with Amber’s and Sam’s.
“Hey, Damon.” I look up to see Ember smiling as she watches me walk up the small cobblestone walkway that splits the front yard.
“Hey, Em. Nice place,” I reply as I step up the front porch steps, kissing her cheek.
“Thank you! Wait until you see the inside.” She beams. “And thank you for coming over to help. Kayson told me you had to work this morning so I appreciate you coming over when you could.”
“Yeah, nice of you to show up now that we’re almost done,” Kayson interrupts as he steps up beside her. Ember backhands him in the stomach for the comment, but that doesn’t stop him from turning slightly to wrap his arms around her tiny frame.
“What my obnoxious husband means is, thank you and we appreciate your help,” she says in apology for Kayson’s remark.
“What I meant is what I said. You show up when all we have left is to unload the moving truck, fucker. Where were you when we were loading up her ten boxes of paperbacks and carrying them down four flights of stairs since the elevator wasn’t working?”
Em looks up to glare at him. “You know he was working, you buffoon. Ya know, you’re going to lose one of your only friends if you keep talking to him that way.” She tsks.
I smirk at Em defending me. Crossing my arms over my chest I butt in, “Yeah, man. Way to hurt my feelings.”
“You have no feelings, dude. And, baby, as long as I have you I don’t need anybody else.” He turns on his charm for his wife before dipping down and kissing the hell out of her right in front of me.
“Oh you,” she breathes out when he lets her up for air. “Stop that.” She swats him away as his hands start to wander, looking flustered. “People can see.”
“Not people, baby. Just our friends,” Kayson responds with a smug smirk in place.
Ember just glares at him and crosses her arms over her chest; her face still red and flushed from Kayson’s earlier assault on her mouth.
We both chuckle at her reaction as Paxton and the girls walk outside. “What’s got you looking fifty shades of I wanna be fucked?” Sam asks Ember, causing us all to laugh out loud and Em’s face to get even redder.
“Just reminding my wife here that she’s all I need.” He smiles.
I shake my head at his game.
“Gag me,” Amber interjects. Causing us all to laugh again.
When I don’t hear that one familiar laugh ringing out, I look around to see Ace standing back, behind the group. Looking like she wants to be anywhere but here, anywhere but near me. Fuck.
“All right, enough making fun of my husband and me. We just have a few more loads and we’ll be done,” she says brightly, before Kayson lays another kiss to her lips in front of us all.
Paxton jumps into action first to get away from the lovebirds, slapping my shoulder as he passes to jog down the stairs. “What’s up, man?”
I give him a chin lift and then Sam and Amber each a kiss to the cheek as they pass me. “Officer Dimples,” Sam sasses as Amber just gives me a look. I watch them as they walk away then turn to look at me over their shoulders, whispering to one another.
I can only guess what that’s about. And Officer Dimples? The fuck?
I catch sight of Ace walking quickly by me, avoiding eye contact, and jogging down the stairs. Following behind her, I decide then that we’ve let this avoidance shit go on long enough. “Hey, Ace,” I say quietly when I catch up to her.
“Hey,” she says blandly. Tucking a lock of long hair behind her ear, still avoiding eye contact.
“Look—”
“Don’t,” she grinds out.
“Ace.” I grasp her arm lightly right before we make it to the moving truck and all the prying eyes and ears. Before I can say anything else she rips her arm from my hold and takes a step back from me.
“I said ‘don’t’, Damon. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to be nice. I just want to finish helping Ember and Kayson and then leave.” She looks around to make sure no one else can hear us before continuing. “I didn’t know you were even going to be here. When I showed up and you weren’t here I figured you either bailed or had to work.”
She still won’t look at me, and I swear I hear her mutter I couldn’t be so lucky.
Well shit. I know I fucked up, but I thought the time apart would help. Apparently, I was dead fucking wrong. She seems even more upset now than she was then.
“We need to talk whether you like it or not, Ace.”
“No, we actually don’t. This isn’t the place, and you made your feelings perfectly clear that night.”
“My feelings? Damn it, Ace, I was fucking shocked, okay? What I said—”
“What you said is what you meant. You never say anything you don’t mean, even when you’re being a careless jackass. So please, spare me.” She gives me one last look then walks around me. Turning, I watch her as she stomps off toward the house. Ember’s still on the front porch, looking over our way with concern etched across her face. I can’t hear what Ace is saying to Ember, but I can tell she’s giving an excuse to leave before she hugs Em and walks to her car.
Watching her climb in and then drive off, I just stand in the same spot, like a fucking idiot, wondering what the fuck I’m going to do to make this right.
I can’t fucking take it anymore.
Kayson still won’t leave me the fuck alone, Ace is still avoiding me, and fucking Christ I haven’t gotten my dick wet since that night with her a month ago.
I’m losing my fucking mind.
Kayson is still fucking bugging and nagging me about what’s going on with Ace. Even after I told him it was none of his goddamn business, he still tries almost every fucking day. He tries to tell me it’s all Ember, but that nosy motherfucker wants to know for himself, too. I know it. Fucking pussy.
Plus, there’s no way Ember doesn’t know what went down with Ace and me. Not with them being so close and with the looks I got from her, along with Amber and Sam, last weekend when I helped them move into their new place. So I know the girls know. Which means either Ember has kept Kayson in the dark or he knows and he just wants to hear it from me.
Well that motherfucker will be waiting a damn lifetime. Because I’m not telling him shit.
On top of Kayson not letting up, and my pent-up tension due to the lack of release, Ace won’t give me the time of day, and I’m about ready to snap. My calm, cool, and collected demeanor went out the fucking window with the last round of ignored text messages and unanswered phone calls, along with the last snubbed visit at the Coffee Press earlier in the week.
After Ace barely gave me the time of day last weekend, and then put me in my place before leaving abruptly, I decided enough was enough. I was done acting like the fucking pussy I had become and decided to take matters into my own hands.
Texting and calling proved to be useless. She’d either ignore my text messages or would reply with simple, one
-word responses like ‘busy’, ‘fine’, or the fucking worst, ‘K’. My phone calls she’d ignore completely. So I took to dropping into the café, thinking she’d have no choice but to talk to me. Wrong. So fucking wrong. She’d take one look at me, find Cora to take my order, then dart into the backroom behind the swinging doors. Hiding from me.
So that’s why I’m currently sitting in my truck, giving myself a fucking pep talk before I make my way inside the Coffee Press, where I know Ace is working, and demand she talk to me. I’m done messing around. I’m done being ignored. I get I fucked up. I realize now that I should have chased her down after she left my hotel room in tears and apologized then. Explained that it was the shock of it all that had me spewing bullshit and hurtful words all over the place. But I didn’t do any of that shit, and now I’m paying the ultimate price because Ace won’t talk to me, she won’t see me, and it’s fucking killing me. Because despite the distance I kept between us, we were still friends, we are still friends, and we actually spoke and conversed and saw each other. Yeah, it was in group settings with our crew, but it still happened. Now she won’t give me any of that. I never realized how dependent I had become on her presence. How much I took for granted that she was around.
I need her back again. Back to how it was before we slept together and changed everything between us. But it’s more now. So much more, because ever since that night, where I experienced the most exquisite fucking pleasure of my life, I know I need her even more. Our one night can’t happen again, but I need her friendship. I need her presence. I need her light to shine on my darkness, to cast shadows on the demons that haunt me.
With a deep breath, I step down from the cab of my truck and slam the door shut, hit the lock button on the key fob, and make my way across the street. My eyes scan the area as I cross, my hand on the handle of my Glock as it usually is when I’m dressed in uniform. I didn’t bother changing after my shift, just jumped in my truck and took off so I could get to Ace, to make things right.
Pushing on the door, the bell jingles just inches above my head, signaling my entry. My eyes lock onto Ace as soon as the door shuts behind me. Trapping out the cooler than normal October air.
She’s busy helping a customer at the front counter so she hasn’t looked at me yet. But I know she knows it’s me who just walked through the door. As soon as the bell sounded and I laid eyes on her, I saw her shoulders tense and the small smile she was wearing slide from her beautifully full lips. Plus, she normally greets every customer that enters the café. Friend, acquaintance, or stranger—it doesn’t matter. Her parents may have started the Coffee Press, but it’s Ace’s pride and joy. She takes great pride in quality products and service. So if nothing else, her lack of greeting lets me know she knows I’m here. And by the tension erupting around us, I’d say she knows I’m not leaving until I speak with her.
I’m able to step up to the counter now that old man Riley, probably the oldest man to live in Pleasant Beach at ninety-five years old, turns and shuffles along with his cane. He catches sight of me before making his way to the pickup line. “Officer Miles,” he hurriedly says to catch my attention. “Those damn Wheeler kids toilet papered my front yard again last weekend,” he angrily tells me as he shakes his cane. “Isn’t there anything you can do about those pesky kids and their antics?” He pounds the end of his cane onto the weathered wooden floors.
His angry tone and serious face over his neighbor’s kids toilet papering his yard have me holding back a chuckle. “I’m sorry to hear about that, Mr. Riley.”
“Yeah, well, they were almost sorry. They’re lucky I wasn’t awake to catch them. I’ve got a BB gun with their name on it sitting by my front door if I catch them again.” He ends with a firm nod of his head.
This time a chuckle does escape me at picturing this old man, who couldn’t weigh ninety pounds soaking wet, standing on his front steps with a cane in one hand and a BB gun in the other, popping off BBs at a ten– and twelve–year–old. “We wouldn’t want that. I can make sure to stop by to have a talk with them and their parents, sir. You can sleep in peace and put away your BB gun.”
“I’d appreciate that.” He tips the brim of his hat to me before hobbling off to get his order.
I offer a chin lift and a good-bye as I shake my head then turn to look behind the counter, but looking down I’m not met with the deep brown eyes I expected. Instead, I’m met with a pair of gray eyes set in a flushed face. Cora.
“Um, hey, Damon,” she squeaks out. She’s meek on any given day, but going by the look on her face I’d say I’m doing a shit job of concealing the anger that I’m feeling at being snubbed yet again. Because she looks about ready to pass out. “What can I get for you?”
“Did she go out back?” I more demand than ask as I look at the door to the backroom behind the counter.
“Umm…”
“Never mind. Of course she did,” I say out loud.
Turning, I see Cora take a sigh of relief before her eyes quickly widen when she realizes I’m not leaving.
“Wait! You can’t go back there,” she says in a panic.
My knees knock into the swinging partition that separates the cash register and backroom from the café to make my way behind the counter to the backroom’s door. I just look at her with a hard look on my face as I pass by her and she shuts up. She knows I’d never hurt a woman, or she should, but I’d gladly remove her if she tried to stand in my way of talking to Ace today. This ends now.
Not bothering to check to make sure no one is coming, I push the door open inward, since it swings both ways, and hear an “Oomph” followed by a “What the hell?”
I quickly let go of the door, panicking that I hurt Ace, but realize the door must have hit her in her perfect ass and knocked whatever she was holding out of her hands. Because she stands there, bent over at the waist, picking up a stack of napkins as she rubs her left ass cheek.
I can’t help but smirk, but it quickly dies as my cock turns to steel, as I remember what that ass felt like in my hands. How each perfect globe overfilled my large hands.
Jesus fucking Christ.
I must have groaned out loud because as quick as a whip Ace spins around, dropping the napkins for a second time.
Her shock gives way to anger as her opened jaw locks shut and her widened eyes turn to slits. Anger emanates off of her, and fuck all if my cock doesn’t get even harder at seeing her mad. Face flushed, body tense, eyes spitting fire.
“What are you doing, Damon? You know you can’t be back here.” She crosses her arms, waiting for my reply.
At this point I swear to fucking Hades that she’s torturing me on purpose. First with her ass, then with her anger, and now pressing those handfuls of tits higher up on her chest. The apron she’s wearing doing nothing to hide the fullness from my view. Or my cock. Fucking hell, I need to focus. I bend down to pick up the small stack of napkins that litter the floor and will away my hard-on before I stand back up.
I toss the stack into the garbage before looking right into Ace’s brown gaze. “We need to talk.”
“Actually, no, we don’t. Just like I told you the other day.” She goes to move around me, but I step in her way. She stops just inches from me. Then sighs. Loudly. Her warm breath hitting my chest brings along a reminder of that night in the alcove when her fevered panting seared through my shirt onto my skin. “Damon, get out of my way. I don’t want to talk to you and there is nothing to discuss. Nothing to say. What’s done is done and now I’d like to move on.”
I’m a bit surprised at how vocal she’s being. Normally, she’s a wallflower; quiet, observant. Seems that in the last several weeks my Ace has grown more of a backbone. But I’m not too surprised to be pissed the fuck off by her flippant reply. Acting like there’s nothing left between us but regrets.
“Just please, get—”
“No,” I grind out between clenched teeth. “I’m not leaving until we talk about what happened at Kase and Em’s wedding.”
“What happened was a mistake and won’t happen again. You know, wouldn’t want you thinking I’m too easy or anything.” Her hard stare wavers a bit as her eyes turn glassy. The hurt in her voice and on her face over how my words affected her slamming into me like a sledgehammer to the chest.
Fuck. Easy? She thinks I reacted that way because I thought she was easy? The fuck is that bullshit.
“Ace. I never thought you were eas—”
“No, don’t you dare ‘Ace’ me, you son of a bitch.” My head snaps back at her ferocity and her cursing as she cuts me off. “You have no idea how shitty you made me feel that night. How ashamed, how pathetic. And worst of all you made me feel cheap, like I was a whore.” Her chest is heaving with emotion now. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, Damon. I wanted you to be my first. There is nothing wrong with that. There is no reason to feel shame in that. And being a twenty-one-year-old virgin should be evidence enough of how I am definitely not easy.”
Her confession and declaration of loving me doesn’t surprise me as much as it probably should. One, because I’ve always had an idea of her feelings. And two, because I am scared fucking shitless right now at hearing those words come from her mouth. Me and love don’t fucking mix. Haven’t in a long ass time and never will again. The love for my parents and the affection I feel for my friends are about as deep as I’m ever going again. But Ace—she threatens the barriers I constructed around me, the ones I built to block out the worst seven months of my life. The seven months of my adolescence that forever shaped me into the charming, manwhore, bastard that I am today. That is no excuse for how I treated her that night though. None at all. She deserved better from me, especially from me.
Her voice is even harder now as she brings me from my thoughts. “I just wanted that one piece of you that everyone else gets. You’ve slept with so many women that I’m afraid to count. So when you asked me to trust you, to take your hand and give you one night, telling you about my virginity went out the window because I was finally getting that one piece of you everyone else had gotten, but I had yet to have. I let my love for you blind me and now the joke’s on me because I’m the jackass who left in tears and with a broken heart.”