Unwritten

by Alex Rosa

  “Sorry, I’m working on it.”

  A tiny, barely-there whimper of displeasure escapes me, and luckily it goes unnoticed.

  The idea of him actively trying to stay away feels so… unproductive. I remind myself that it needs to be this way even though I’m having a hard time remembering why when he’s watching me so closely.

  I pull in a leveling breath. “I’m going to walk away now.”

  “If you must.”

  I scoot around his rigid frame, and I notice him being a bit stunned by my resistance to his… charm? I’m not sure I’d call it that.

  Gosh, I think I’m going to need something stronger than beer.

  With this in mind, I walk straight to the bar and wave at the burly gentleman wiping down the counter.

  “Nice seeing you in here rather than the diner, sweet pea.”

  I smile at the gentleman known as Hal Yates who I’ve known since I was a kid, like everyone else here. Last I heard, his wife passed away a few years back. He’s been passing through the diner pretty frequently since I’ve been waitressing there. He tips well, even though I tell him not to.

  “How’s business, Hal? Looks like you’ve got a crowd tonight. I should have brought you pie!”

  He nods, looking around while tapping his belly. “I’ll hold off on the pie for now. For me, it’s the regular crowd for a Friday night.”

  I nod, too, acting like I understand. I’ve been here a few weeks now, and I don’t necessarily feel like I fit in like I used to. I’m still trying to catch up.

  His croaky voice pulls me back as he says, “You a regular now?”

  I turn my head to look back at my friends. For the first time, the sight looks normal, even with our older age. The boys and CeeCee huddle in the corner, all arm to arm like a little family. Caiden seems to be in the middle of telling a story, and I think it’s the most relaxed I’ve seen him since I got back. When the corners of his mouth lift high as he releases a loud laugh, I don’t know why the inside of my chest tightly writhes with a combination of gleeful hope and foreboding terror. Caiden looks up and catches me staring. I blush, turning away to shoot Hal a crooked, mournful smile and ignore his question. “I’ll take a gin and tonic please, make it a double.”

  Hal nods, but I get the feeling he’s agreeing to something else entirely as he silently makes my drink.

  “On the house, sweet pea. Can’t say your mom would approve of me mentioning this, but just so you know, that was her favorite drink.”

  My cheeks heat, and I grin. “Really?”

  “She’d also never like me to admit how often she might have been in here.”

  I go wide-eyed, eager for a new type of information I have yet to encounter until now. “No way? Can’t say I’m that surprised. I guess we were never the churchgoing family.”

  He laughs, and it feels like a mini-accomplishment.

  I grab for my drink, take a tight sip, liking my reflexive smile powered by curiosity. “My mom ever soft on anyone, Hal? She ever, I don’t know, date? Or have friends I didn’t know about?”

  He stumbles, pausing a beat, just enough to cause a giggle to spurt from my lips, especially when he can’t do anything to hide his own reddening cheeks.

  “Can’t say I knew anything about that.”

  I nod, taking a longer sip this time. I don’t want to push it. Hal is a proud man, and I won’t mess with him in his own bar, but I’m pretty sure I know enough to feel satisfied. Maybe my mom was a flirt. It’d give us something in common.

  “This town teaches me something new every day, I swear.”

  He shrugs, rubbing at his weathered face and grey stubble. “Sometimes it ain’t just the town, it’s the people, Hailey Elwood.”

  “What does that mean?” I say, taking a bigger pull of my drink before placing it onto the bar.

  He raises his brow, scolding me. “It means that although roots are important, sometimes it’s the people that teach you the things you need. Sometimes, putting your focus on a place, rather than its inhabitants, can distract you from what’s really important.”

  I sigh, regaining my center as I smile. “I can see why my mother would like you, Hal.”

  He laughs, deep and thunderous as he shakes his head, waving a hand at me. “Get outta here…”

  Before he can reveal more scarlet color to his jolly cheeks he walks away, releasing deep laughter as he saunters down the bar to get someone a beer.

  I finish the rest of my drink, leaving the glass, and do my best to contain my goofy grin as I walk back toward my friends with a rejuvenated sense of self, the hope winning the battle against the fear, which is always the best feeling.

  As I take long strides, I lift my head to catch Caiden’s eyes already on me as he hugs his beer to his chest. He’s supposed to be listening to Cameron, who’s explaining how he thinks Olivia Humbolt has the hots for him as I approach.

  Usually, I’d roll my eyes at him, but mine are currently being pulled in by the green tractor beam in front of me.

  CeeCee, who I didn’t see standing next to Cam, nudges me with her hip as I come to a stop, pulling my stare away.

  She leans in to whisper, “You look happy, Hails.”

  I shrug. “I think I am.”

  “That’s the best news I’ve heard from you in ages.” She pauses, licking her lips before adding in an even quieter voice so no one can hear, “I’m sorry I freaked out on you about Caiden. You two are—”

  I wave my hand, cutting her off, replying in the same low tone, “We are nothing.”

  “Hailey…”

  I peer up at the rough-and-tumble voice that’s suddenly beckoning me, interrupting my conversation with CeeCee. I worry I’m not going to be able to hide how my joints have turned into jello.

  “Yes, Caiden?” I reply.

  “Can I talk to you outside?” he asks.

  I feel the eyes of all my friends on me like hot fire. I don’t care what they might be thinking, but it doesn’t mean I have the confidence to speak, so I nod.

  Caiden makes it a point to shimmy past me, not asking anything of me, not his hand or touch, but merely to follow—and I do.

  When I turn around, CeeCee says this time loud enough for everyone to hear, “It sure don’t look like nothin’.”

  I have half a mind to react, but I don’t. I follow Caiden out the door, not turning to see my friends gawking, which I know they are.

  When I reach the outside, the evening hits me like a refreshing wave. I close my eyes and halt my feet just so I can bask in it, the silence being half of the feeling of rejuvenation.

  I hear boots crunching on the gravel in front of me. My eyes spring open.

  Caiden is there, bobbing on his boots, finally offering his hand to me.

  I squint at it. “What happened to keeping your distance?”

  He shrugs. “I’m working on it,” he repeats but doesn’t pull his hand back.

  Without having the bar as an audience, I grin, grabbing for it.

  I want to ask him how this is so easy for him. How he can ask me for a moment or reach out for my hand so easily? How does he find the confidence to do these tiny things that I’m still struggling with? After talking about taking things slow, me letting him woo me, and him explaining his previous relationship, I’m still on edge. I’m still so cautious.

  “Relax, Hails.”

  We make it to the back of his truck when he yanks at my hand, pulling me to him.

  “You’re so tense,” he adds.

  “Of course, I am. You terrify me.” My teeth come down hard on my bottom lip, and I curse gin for breaking my mouth filter.

  He smiles, the twist of his brow saying something more. “Don’t you think I should be the terrified one?”

  My chest constricts, and he must notice because he pulls us further into the shadows between his truck and Brandon’s. He pushes me against his truck as he says, “Stop thinking so hard; it’s not healthy.”

  “Did you just tell me thinking
isn’t healthy?”

  He towers over me, giving off that effortless closeness as he leans in. “With you? Yeah. When I watch you think, I worry I’m going to see a nerve burst, right” —he lifts his large hand to my face, pressing his index finger in the center of my forehead— “here. You think too much.” His hand hovers and then smooths over my face, cupping my jaw to lift my eyes to look at him.

  “How is this so easy for you?” I sigh, loving the feeling of his hand against me.

  He shrugs, humming as his lips twitch adoringly. “You don’t get it. You’re the only thing that comes easy to me.”

  I grin. Actually, I want to cry from happiness at hearing those words. An overwhelming sense of understanding washes over me.

  “Ya know,” he continues. “I used to be easy for you, too.”

  “I know. You still are. I’m just trying to resist it.”

  “Don’t. Please don’t.”

  I sigh dopily. My resistance is merely a shield, and he knows it. A shield that’s ridiculously exhausting to keep up at all times.

  “Okay,” I reply, letting my shoulders slump. I worry that Caiden could ask me to do anything and I wouldn’t have the power to turn him down anymore.

  He smiles victoriously, and I stare at his beautiful mouth as the corners lift. I remember how rough yet soothing his lips felt against mine, even after all these years.

  “Do you want to kiss me, Hailey?”

  My eyes spring to his. “Maybe.”

  He leans in. “Me, too.”

  I giggle, and he mirrors it with a chuckle of his own. His humid breath fans over my face, sending tingles right down to my core, and I’m having a hard time defining what my reality is because this teeters on surreal.

  “Caiden, we were going to take things slow.”

  “Life is short, and I’m sick of wasting time, aren’t you?” he retorts.

  I understand so completely.

  Exhilarated by his words, I bite down on my bottom lip and take a playful step to the side, trying to find home in the effortless side that Caiden used to give me—still gives me.

  I pull in a deep inhale, the smell of pine and Caiden’s smoky cologne making for a blissfully heady cocktail, and all I want is to drop the wall I built so fiercely around my heart.

  The left corner of his mouth rises as he watches me, crumbling my caution, telling me he remembers this game, and that I’m finally willing to let go. It causes my heart to flutter.

  Will we always be kids? God, I hope so. I didn’t think that would be something I wanted so badly.

  “Don’t run,” he chides while blowing out a less than calm breath that gets my blood pumping.

  I grin, my lips puckering together to try and contain it as I take another deliberate step away from him.

  “Hailey…” he hums. He also takes a step forward, preparing his start, knowing where this is going. I lick my bottom lip. His black boots crunch on the gravel. The low sound of music vibrates through the walls of the bar. I love that we’re alone, and we have this moment. It’s always easier when it’s just us.

  This is what I missed. We’ve always been goofy idiots. We were playmates as much as we were best friends and lovers. We played games that no one cared to understand, and that’s just the way we liked it.

  I don’t remember the last time I felt this free.

  This time when I turn around and run, it’s not in fear. I welcome the chase, but I’m more eager about being caught.

  Tag, you’re it.

  A shriek of a laugh escapes me when I don’t make it three steps before his hands are on my hips, swinging me back. Next thing I know, I’m being playfully flung back against his truck.

  The sound of the wind being knocked out of me emerges in the form of a skirting giggle, but everything below my waist clenches tight when Caiden’s eyes pin me to the spot, and I’m put into a silent trance, my lips twitching anxiously.

  He leans in, his humid breath skimming over my mouth again, fanning that fire burning inside me. The curve to his lips tells me he’s enjoying this, but that look in his eye is deadly serious. I try that whole breathing thing I’m not so good at when he’s around.

  “You always did suck at that game,” he whispers.

  He leans in a little bit closer, and I’m ready for my rebuttal, but his laughter interrupts me. “Hailey, can you do me a favor and just shut up for once?”

  My brows pull together. “What, why?”

  His lips crashing against mine. His smile against my newly formed one as his lips find a rhythm with mine is the happiest I’ve been in a long while. I could drink him in forever.

  He tastes like a welcome bout of homesickness. The kind that makes me realize that homesickness isn’t a place, but a person. This is the moment I don’t feel so lost anymore. I’m home because he’s home. It’s the most insane epiphany I’ve ever had.

  My arms involuntarily lift, wrapping around his neck, pulling his body closer. His hard, lean frame presses against the length of mine, sending a carnal thrill through my body. His hands lift, making a deliberate, electric trail down the nape of my neck, over my shoulders, down my torso to take a firm grip on my hip bones. My nerves spark erratically at his touch, especially when I can feel just a couple fingers make contact with a bit of bare skin above my skirt.

  His tongue dips into my mouth, and I don’t try to contain my whimper as my fingers find a way to tangle into his hair, anchoring his mouth to mine.

  This moment is precious to me because there’s nothing holding us back anymore. I try to cherish it, but the good things only last so long, and if you have friends like mine, they wouldn’t allow it.

  A loud, long, drawn-out whistle comes from the bar. We pull away, out of breath and totally caught.

  “Slow, my ass!” Brandon shouts from the doorway, dragging a reluctant CeeCee behind him, which can’t be a good thing, but my mind is somewhere else entirely.

  I feel a little twinge of anger that my moment with Caiden’s lips was cut short by my oaf of a friend, and lucky for me the feeling must be mutual.

  “Do you always have to be an asshole?” Caiden shouts.

  “Yes. It’s how I keep your shit in line. You two should take it easy,” he reprimands.

  “As if you know anything about taking things easy!” Caiden shoots back.

  A tight huff squeaks out of CeeCee from behind Brandon as if in agreement, and that’s when it becomes clear that she’s an unwilling hostage. I’d focus on that, but what’s worse is, I hate that part of me agrees with what Brandon said about us.

  I step away from Caiden, who tries grabbing for my hand, but I slither away as I walk into the openness of the parking lot. His groan of annoyance is most definitely heard.

  “What are you doing, Brandon?” I shout back, smoothing out my clothes as I do.

  “Taking Cee home,” he responds. “And don’t worry, we’re both going home sexually frustrated as all hell.” I try not to laugh but fail as it comes off as a snort. “She drank too much, and I think she’s had enough, trust me. Just doing my duty and dropping her off before she makes more of a scene.”