by Nola Marie
I walk past her toward the water without a word.
“Well, isn’t this a fine-looking dawn patrol,” I hear her say.
“Looks like we’ve found our fourth,” I hear Maddox reply to her.
I walk into the water until I am far enough to climb onto my board and paddle out. I move slowly through the water toward the line up with my thoughts still lingering on the past. Wondering like I have so many times what the hell happened to us. Wondering why at twenty-eight years old I’m still affected by the girl I loved at eighteen. Hell, longer. Wondering why I still love her. Then I straddle the board as I wait on the next wave.
I sit there alone with the sound of nothing but the ocean and the seagulls surrounding me. I don’t know how much time passes. I only know that instead of enjoying the peace, my mind, body, and soul are in turmoil.
“You alright, Mate?” I hear beside me, bringing me from my miserable reverie.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I lie.
“You look like that head of yours is going to some dark places.”
I look to him. His keen eyes are seeing too much. Except -, “I’ve been living in a dark place for a long time,” I admit, only now realizing how true the words are.
“Before or after whoever this girl is that broke your heart?”
I lean my head to the sky with a chuckle. “She didn’t break my heart,” I admit out loud, again, for the first time. A lot of damn first have been happening lately. “I don’t know why I was with her for so long. I never loved her, but she was -,” I trail off not knowing how to finish.
“She was a safe distraction,” he tells me. “You weren’t invested. You can’t invest something that didn’t belong to you anymore. And something that’s already broken can’t break again.”
“I don’t know about that,” I chuckle darkly. “Pretty sure it’s been breaking a little more every day since I was a kid. I’ve been living a jaded existence since I was a kid. Erica just added to it and hurt my pride.”
“Yeah, I’d say we’re all a bit jaded,” he agrees.
“What’s your story?” I ask as I realize it’s time that I get to know these men that have become friends just a little better.
“That is a long one,” he says, running his fingers through his hair. “You may as well hear it though. You’re a real member of the band. Not just a fill in or a friend of a friend.”
“Yeah. I have no plans of going anywhere,” I tell him honestly.
He tells me his story and I am blown away. I never could’ve guessed that. Not even if I tried. I knew it had to have something to do with a girl. Don’t most stories of men with trust issues start that way? Okay so maybe not, but mine does. I just never thought -.
I blow out a breath with a laugh. “Damn, man, you make me feel like a little bitch.”
He brushes me off with a wave then scrubs his hands down his face. He’s trying to scrub the emotion away. I dive into my story to distract him, as pathetic as it sounds compared to his.
“So, Josephine is the girl that fucked you up?” he grins.
I throw my head back with a laugh. “That’s what you got from that?”
“Am I wrong?”
“No, but how stupid is it that something that happened when we were kids has affected me so long?”
“From what I see, Mate,” he remarks with an observing look, “not that stupid. Whether you were kids or not, you wouldn’t still feel like you do if you didn’t love her. I just told you my story. I was a kid too. Even Maddox is proof that age doesn’t mean shit when it comes to how you feel.”
“What about Maddox? He ever going to get over this Zoey chick?”
“I fucking hope so. I like Zoey. She’s probably the sweetest girl I’ve ever met and hottest, but she loves her husband. Mads will never get the girl. You, on the other hand, have the girl right here and she’s not in love with anyone else.”
“That ship has sailed,” I tell him while paddling to catch the incoming wave and hoping it will ease the pain in my chest.
“Took you a lot longer to call than I thought it would,” a sing song voice comes through with a laugh.
“You’ve been expecting me,” I can’t help but laugh back at her.
“Yep. For a few weeks now. Since she called and told me she saw you. Although, I’ve got to let you know I’m kind of insulted. I haven’t heard from you in months and when you do call it’s over Josephine.”
“What makes you think it’s about Josie?” I challenge even though she’s right.
“Don’t bullshit me Angel Martin. The timing is too perfect. Especially considering what tomorrow is.”
“Alright, Eden, you got me. I’m a shit friend and I’m calling for the first time in months about Josie.” I would grin if not for the fact that it’s true. I have been a shit friend to Eden lately.
“How are you handling it?” she asks me with more concern than I deserve.
“About like you’re thinking,” I admit gruffly.
“So, in other words, you’re not handling it at all. You’re either avoiding her or fighting with her.”
“The avoidance is easy when everyone is working their asses off to keep us separated. I’m going crazy here, Edie. I don’t know what I’m doing but every time I try to talk to her, it goes south.”
My phone beeps and I see it’s an incoming video call from Eden. I laugh again and answer the call. Her strawberry-blond hair is piled on top of her as she sips from a champagne flute. “Living the high life, I see.”
She shrugs her shoulder with a grin. “I do love my mimosas. You my very sexy friend are looking worse for the wear. Shouldn’t that happen later in the tour?”
“Probably,” I agree, “but -.”
“But Josie,” she tells me with a nod.
“But Josie,” I sigh. “Eden, tell me what happened. I know I’ve asked you before but, please, I’m begging you, tell me what happened. Josie keeps spouting all this shit that I don’t even know what she’s talking about. Then I get pissed and say things I probably shouldn’t.”
“You’re telling her how you feel, Angel. She absolutely should know that.” She pauses for a second with a shake of her head and a smile. “You know, you two, after all these years, should’ve moved on by now.”
“I’ve tried, Edie. How do I move on when she’s all I ever think about? Anyone else has never been more than a distraction.”
“What about bitch?” she coughs into her hand with a grin, “I mean Erica.”
“You know Erica was just – there. She was just there. She was known and familiar and -.”
“Easy?” she smirks.
I scratch the back of my head with my own laugh this time. “It was never about that. You know if I just wanted sex anyone would do. When I realized I wasn’t getting over Josie, Erica became the easy solution. I know it doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense to me either. As much as I hate to say it, Erica was too self-absorbed to notice I didn’t love her. Turns out she didn’t love me either, though. Karma I guess.”
“Angel,” she says with a long, drawn-out sigh, “I’m not going to tell you what you called me to ask. You need to talk to Josie. I’m not sure it would make sense coming from me anyway. It doesn’t even make sense to me.”
“I just want to know why? Is that so wrong? I never intended to fuck Erica that night. Much less for Josie to see it. But was it really so awful to throw away everything we were to each other?”
“Angel, you know how Josie felt about you,” she scolds me.
“I do. I loved her too,” I defend.
“But Josephine didn’t know that. She had no idea that you were in love with her.”
“I wasn’t good enough for her. She was too perfect.”
“She was never perfect. You know better than anyone that she’s stubborn, prideful, and more sensitive than anyone we know. When she’s hurt, she latches onto it.”
“Goddammit Eden, I was fucking hurt too. My best friend just abandoned me without ex
planation. No matter how hard I tried, she wouldn’t talk to me. She just tossed me – us – away like yesterday’s trash.” I’m almost yelling now. I’m gritting my teeth as I fight back tears of anger and frustration – a reaction I’ve always hated.
“And yet, you still love her. Angel, you’ve got to resolve this once and for all or let it go.”
“Has she let it go?” I challenge. Except I really want to know. I want to know if she was able to just move on all these years. If I was nothing more than a distant memory until she saw me again.
“She pretended that she had. Josephine avoids her problems. She likes to pretend there aren’t any until she’s slapped in the face with them. She says she doesn’t run away, but that girl always has her running shoes on. But, in short, no. She hasn’t let it go. She was just going through the motions of life. In college, she acted out and partied hard. When college was over and she went home, she continued to live the life her parents mapped out for her right down to Robert. And get that look off your face. She wasn’t going to stay a virgin forever. Hell, she wasn’t a virgin when she started college.”
I try to school my feature. I try to get the pure rage off my face at the thought of Josie, my Josie, doing -. Nope. Not going to deep, dark into those thoughts.
“This is your chance, Angel. This is your second chance with her. Tell the past goodbye. Tell whatever happened, your issues with your parents, and Erica goodbye. Or don’t do any of it, and just move on once and for all.”
“I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m not moving on,” I snap.
“Not as long as there is so much unfinished business between both of you,” she nods.
“Our business will never be finished.”
“Then do something Angel.”
Right. Do something.
But what the fuck am I supposed to do?
Josephine
I don’t usually celebrate my birthday. I haven’t since I turned twenty-one and that one ended in handcuffs thanks to bad decisions on my part.
I don’t want to celebrate this one either, but I think it’s already off to a great start. For one, I’m not in some wet, freezing hell. I’m in sunny, warm Orlando. I also have the day off after a couple of interviews with the boys – ahem, men. (Insert eyeroll here.)
“What are we doing today with all this free time?” Camilla hands me a cup of coffee. It makes me grin because I’m supposed to hand her the coffee.
“Soak up the sun and relax,” I tell her wistfully. “I’ve missed the sun, sand, and salt water.”
“There’s a car waiting on all of you,” Liam comes up to us in the lobby. “The things you need are already there waiting on you.”
We nod as we listen to his instructions. Liam is an interesting man. He looks like a rock star himself. He’s told us that he’s thirty-three, which isn’t that much older than Dane, and that he had his own band once. According to him, it all went to hell when their lead singer went to jail over sexual assault and drugs, but the label knew he was too smart to just let fall back into obscurity. He’s been working as a road manager for quite a few bands now for about five years.
I can see it though. I can see the longing he has for his former life. He misses the music.
“Ms. Byer,” the lobby receptionist calls out. I turn to the desk where he lifts a huge arrangement onto the desks surface. Chrysanthemums and Gerber daisies. My favorite flowers. “These were left for you.”
My heart races as I take in the huge bouquet. My hands shake as I retrieve the card, already knowing what I’m going to find. Only two words are written on the card. ‘Happy Birthday’ is scrawled across in messy penmanship that I could recognize anywhere, anytime, no matter how much time has passed.
“It’s your birthday?” Camilla asks over my shoulder. I can only nod. My throat is too thick to allow words. “Who knows it’s your -,” she trails off then claps a hand over her mouth. “Oh. My. God,” she gasps as realization sets in.
Tears sting my eyes. Tears of anger, hurt, joy, and gratitude. They all flood every cell of my being.
Once upon a time, Angel was always the first to tell me happy birthday. Even after our lifelong friendship crashed and burned, every year at midnight, I’d get a text or a DM. They stopped when I changed my number and closed my social media accounts. It was too much to be reminded of him every year.
Especially the night of my twenty-first birthday. He messaged and texted me just like always. I’ll never forget what he posted on my feed. How he wrote of the birthdays we spent together.
It made my heart crumble, and I was an emotional wreck. Then I got a DM from Erica and Jason. Pictures that I wish didn’t exist flooded my messenger. Pictures that reminded me of an awful, horrible time I wish didn’t happened.
The final picture was like someone reaching in my heart, tearing it out. Pictures that I have no idea how they were taken. But they were right there for me to see. Erica on top of Angel, him gripping her hips, both without a stitch of clothing on, and me standing at the foot of the bed in nothing but my little lacy underwear. Somehow it was taken before I managed to turn the lights on.
I still don’t understand why Angel would do that to me. What’s more, I hate that I’ve always been too afraid to ask. As many times as he tried to talk to me afterwards, I didn’t want to hear him tell me what I already knew. That I was the dead weight latching on to him. That I was pathetic, and he was tired of holding my hand through life.
That picture was more proof that he wanted to humiliate me. To break me.
“Josephine,” Camilla whispers in awe, “he remembered your birthday?”
“He always does,” I murmur just as softly with a tremor to my voice.
“Josephine, this is seriously the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen,” her voice is still hushed.
“It’s not meant to be romantic,” I tell her. A sharp pain in my chest I usually pretend is indigestion stabs me.
I may never say it out loud or admit it to anyone else. It’s not an easy admission. Not at all. The truth is, however, that Eden is right. I still love Angel. No one and nothing has ever changed or even lessened those feelings. But that love is tainted with so much anger and pain, that I don’t think I will ever recover. Even if I’ve denied all of this for years.
“Can you send the flowers to my rooms, please?” I tell the receptionist before turning away from the desk before Cami can see the emotions there.
Camilla is chattering away behind me as I work to stow away these feelings. I put my reinforced walls in place because all of the reasons I didn’t want to do this tour – the reasons I hate being around Angel – are fighting to remain and dominate the forefront of my mind.
We climb into the Suburban. Liam and Angel sit up front while Ryder and Dane take the back, leaving Camilla and I in the middle row with Maddox.
“So,” Cami claps her hands together with a look that makes my stomach drop. “What are we doing tonight for your birthday?”
I throw my head into my hands with a groan. “Nothing, Cami,” I tell her from behind my hands. “We are doing nothing. I don’t celebrate my birthday. I’m going to go down to the beach and soak up the sun while I read my book. Then I’m going to bed early tonight so this day can be over sooner.”
“Is it really your birthday, Love?” Ryder leans over the seat to ask.
I glance toward Angel. He’s staring out the window pretending he’s not listening. I can tell that he is.
“Yes, it is really my birthday. No, we are not celebrating,” I fulminate.
“Oh, hell no,” Cami protests. “We are doing something.”
But I am not giving in without a fight. As futile as that fight may be. “First, in case you’ve forgotten, I’m broke. I can’t afford anything that isn’t free. Second, there’s nothing to celebrate. Nothing special or important happened on this day. I’m just another day older.”
I really, truly despise my birthday. It started when I was a kid, and my parents threw me a
party inviting all the kids from my class. Kids that teased me relentlessly for my stutter. Kids that called me names over my glasses and my overbite. Kids that would pretend to be my friends for five minutes just to circle around me and tease me mercilessly.
I spent most of my party that year hiding in a corner while the kids that actually showed up enjoyed the bounce house, pony rides, and everything else my parents thought I should have. It wasn’t until time for the cake they even noticed I was missing. They finally found me huddled in a corner with my head in Angel’s lap. It was a wonder we managed to stay missing for so long considering the bloody nose Angel gave Trevor McGuffey. Guess the kid didn’t want to explain why he was punched in the face.
But, yeah, my seventh birthday was the worst party ever. My parents never tried again after that. Instead, they’d take me to some stuffy restaurant and give me a slice of cake. Then we’d go home, and I’d spend the rest of my birthday with Angel. Every year like clockwork, he’d be sitting on our front steps waiting for us to return.
Until the year he wasn’t. My parents never asked me why. I wouldn’t have told them anyway. I slipped into my room to cry myself to sleep.
That was the second horrible memory of my birthday.
I feel a tear escape as I relive my youth. Goddammit. I turn my head away from everyone so no one can see me wipe the stray emotion away.
“That’s kind of depressing,” Dane reflects before moving on, “but the money part shouldn’t be the concern.”
I let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I thought that at one time too, until I realized it’s a big concern when you don’t have any.”
“Not on your birthday it’s not,” he claps his hands and rubs them together in a plotting manner.
“You’re right, Dane. It doesn’t matter because lying on the beach with a book is absolutely free.”
The guys looked great for Good Day Orlando and the autograph signing afterward. They smiled appropriately I think, but more than that, they sounded phenomenal. I swear every girl for one hundred miles was standing outside that studio chanting their names. It was surreal for me to witness.