by Rae, Harloe
Pressure builds at the base of my skull. “That’s not a very nice term.”
“Do you have a better one?” He rips the rug out from under me with that harsh tone.
I cross my arms, sliding on a thick layer of armor. “Not sure I need to defend my choices.”
“You don’t, least of all to me. But I’ve seen it plenty of times. This isn’t our first rodeo, city girl. You all waltz into town for the advantages, only to disappear when a better opportunity comes along.”
Jesus, he’s being brutal. I almost stagger from the nonstop punches to my character. “That’s not fair, Reeve. The job market is out of my control. I just followed the open position.”
“Yeah, and here you are.” He makes a swooping gesture at me.
“Not for long, apparently.” My tone is all snark. “I’d be choosing between strangers and my family, who are hours away.”
He nods. “Right, we hold no true value in comparison. That’s never been up for debate. I can see why you’ve gotta go.”
I want to stomp my foot and shout at him to fight for me, for us. But we’re obviously not on the same level. I need to accept that. With a huff, I resume wrenching clothes from my bag. I shouldn’t bait him, not with the boiling temper brewing in my chest. It seems that whatever we shared has already unraveled beyond repair. But if I don’t, this will haunt me worse than any ghost.
“Are you going to give me a reason to stay?” Vulnerability rattles my cage.
“I thought about it, but why bother trying to battle against the inevitable? You’re going to leave regardless of what I do.”
This isn’t some spontaneous decision. He must’ve been weighing the options in my absence. Who am I to stop him now? This is what I asked for. That doesn’t mean I’ll toss up my hands and surrender without trying to compromise at the very least.
Cracking my knuckles, I plunge forward. “You’re not even giving me a chance to think this through.”
“Fine,” he relents. “Would you consider staying under different circumstances?”
I tilt my head at his blatant concession. “Such as?”
“Your lease gets extended, and the school has a position for you,” Reeve tosses into the bitter wind.
Nothing about him wanting me bad enough to stick around. He’s a coward, hiding behind excuses. A resounding crack splits me in half. Why can’t he see what’s missing? All I need is some slight reassurance—a half-baked commitment or guarantee. “It’s not enough.”
“Of course not,” he sneers. He’s steamrolling over me without pause. Fresh outlook, my ass.
Another crash of raging anguish vibrates my bones. “You really don’t get it? Try putting yourself out there, and see what happens, Reeve.”
“Why should I? Tell me I’m wrong, Audria. Can you honestly plant lasting roots in an insignificant speck on the map? Will living in Bampton Valley forever satisfy your ambitions?” The tiniest fissure breaks in his voice, and I grasp onto that quake. He’s not completely unaffected.
But this is so sudden—too abrupt for me to process clearly. I didn’t expect to return and face an unrecognizable version of Reeve. “That’s not fair. You’re springing this on me.”
Reeve’s chuckle is dark, almost mean. “I can hardly think of anything else other than convincing you to stay, selfish as that might be. I guess that tells me where I stand.”
“I’m not prepared to make such a huge decision this instant. Can’t you be reasonable and talk this through with me?”
He’s already shaking his head. “After everything, you’re still going to go. Nothing I do or offer will be a good enough reason for you. I see that now. No matter what, you’re leaving.”
“You already said that. Are you going to let me decide for myself?”
“What will that change, Audria? This isn’t going anywhere. We might as well cut our losses.” He combs through his dark hair and drops his gaze.
I drag in a shuddering breath, clutching my throat. Embarrassment flares under my skin, spreading agonizing blisters with that scalding touch. I’ve been such a fool. “You’re railroading me. This is a freaking blindside crash, Reeve.”
His posture droops. “I can’t do this anymore, okay? That’s the truth. I’m developing real feelings for you, and that’s been fucking with me for months. It’s not fair to either of us, so I’ll be the one to end this.”
“How considerate of you. What about my feelings?”
“That’ll only make this worse.” And by this, he means the end.
“What evil dimension did I get dropped into?” I mean it rhetorically as I rub at my temples.
“Good question, but it’s for the best.”
“How can you say that?” If he feels a fraction of what I do, this must be shredding his guts.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” he repeats his earlier demand in a much softer tone. It doesn’t change the outcome. He’s backing me into a corner without remorse.
“Maybe you could grant me more than five seconds to gather my composure. This is an ultimatum in disguise.” The argument is flimsy, even to my own ears.
“Pretending for the sake of sparing pain is only delaying the unavoidable. I already ripped the bandage off. We’re done.” His bleak tone does little to ease the blow.
“Fine,” I spit with a false sense of bravado.
Reeve waits, as if I should say more. What else is there? I’m not going to beg him to reconsider.
After another agonizing moment, he hangs his head. “I’m glad you agree.”
“Please leave,” I demand, attempting to keep my voice level.
“For what it’s worth, I could’ve loved you. If our circumstances were different,” he explains with that all-too-familiar RDF in tow.
How can he not see that I already love him? Fury rules over my command with clenched teeth. “Fuck you, Reeve Colton.”
He only gives a slow shake of his head before turning away from me for the final time. Each hollow thump of his retreat is a punch to my plummeting spirit. When the front door slams with his devastating exit, I crumple onto my bed and give my sorrow free rein.
The coaster under my glass is soggy from condensation. I rip at the ruined cardboard, avoiding my beer entirely. It’s pointless to chug the shit warm unless I’m drinking to forget. That’s not my purpose tonight.
A change in scenery has become a requirement. The crater in my gut is a festering wound, and the only cure is far beyond reach. Staying late at the office alone depletes any semblance of productivity. Surrounding myself with the guys in our bunk is worse for motivation. I figured, Why not try my loyal watering hole?
Unlike last week, the Salt Lick appears abandoned. The room smells of stale popcorn, rotten sweat, and desperation—a cologne for men wallowing in isolation created by their own stupidity. Only a few stragglers prop themselves on random ends of the bar. We make quite a pack of lonely souls.
It’s safe to say this scene doesn’t do wonders for stirring up encouragement. Perhaps everyone else received a memo about my miserable state and cleared out to give me space. I already have enough of that.
A brash slap of footsteps echoes across the dismal space. I don’t bother turning around. The lazy gait leaves little doubt that this is just another stag attendee for the pity party.
“Well, this feels familiar.”
Gavin earns a narrow glare as he slides in to occupy the stool beside me. “I’m not in the mood.”
He signals Buck for a beer. “Are we getting drunk? I can get us a ride home, no problem.”
I shake my head, continuing to ignore the untouched glass in front of me. “Nah, turns out that doesn’t make problems go away.”
A snort sends a puff of foam from his tall mug. “No shit. Liquid courage can be a real bitch.”
The urge to bang my forehead on the wood counter is a relentless shout. “I’ve learned that several times over.”
Gavin blinks at me. “You’re pathetic.”
“Thanks for n
oticing,” I deadpan.
“Good to see you’re out of the sweatpants phase, though. Maybe you’ll be ready for the strippers later.”
I glance down at my jeans. “Huh?”
He swats at the air. “Never mind. What happened to your determination?”
“I lost it.”
“Grand declaration of love?”
“Didn’t do it.”
He grunts. “Pride?”
“Gone,” I drone.
“And your girl is pissed,” he informs me with an eye roll.
As if I’m not fully aware of just how upset Audria is. He gets another glare for choosing to disrupt my solitude, whether I want company or not. “She isn’t mine. I made sure of that.”
He raps his knuckles on the bar. “Ah, this sounds like a great place to dive in. Tell me all about your sabotage.”
“As if you haven’t heard already.”
“Who would be privy to such private matters?” He brings up a decent point.
I slouch deeper in my seat. “I pulled the plug.”
Gavin makes an obnoxious display of pretending to yank a cord from the socket. “But why? We talked about this at length. You were pumped and ready to confess all those mushy feelings.”
A groan escapes before I can muffle the pitiful noise. “Don’t remind me.”
He clucks his tongue. “That’s precisely what I’m about to do, so buckle up.”
I hold up a palm. “I’m already well aware that I fucked up the best thing to ever happen to me. We don’t need to rehash my biggest failure.”
His frown drips sarcasm. “But how else will you learn?”
“From this horrible feeling in my chest.” I push on the spot from force of habit. It’s only been six days, but the damage is already irreparable.
He winces with a hiss. “Like it’s caving in?”
“Worse,” I complain.
“You’re fucked,” he confirms.
“Yup, I’m well aware.”
“But it’s not officially done until the skinniest cow tips over.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying not to laugh. His rules of thumb get more ridiculous with age. “Great. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“As you should. But hold that thought. Do you want a fresh Coors? That one looks flatter than my prom date.” He slaps my arm. “Remember Louise? I wonder what happened to her.”
This is the point where I reconsider drinking until I black out. “That’s insanely off topic.”
Gavin scoffs at my blatant lack of enthusiasm. “Because you’re being such an engaging conversationalist.”
“Excuse me for not dredging up more energy over a girl who moved away years ago. I apologize.” The monotone drag of my voice belies any form of sincerity. “What would you like to talk about?”
“Clearly your memory has been impacted by this disaster. For those in the back, how about you explain why you’re sitting in a very cheerful establishment—not drinking or eating—and looking like week-old highway roadkill.”
“Nothing has flavor,” I mumble.
“I’m about to lose interest,” he warns.
“Please do.” I fold my hands in a pleading gesture.
“Don’t pretend you want to be abandoned. I can see the need for companionship in those reflective eyeballs of yours.”
“That’s probably just gas.” I scrub a palm along my face regardless.
Gavin squeezes my shoulder. “Let it all out, man. That’s what I’m here for.”
I shrug him off. “You’re a leech.”
“How else would I stick by you in these trying hours?”
“I’m not sure why you bother,” I volley.
A flash of Audria’s tear-streaked cheeks assaults my vision. The image pounds against my ribcage while I reel in a breath. I hear her usually calm tone rising with shock and outrage, striking at me after I deliver punishing blows. She practically begged me to give us a chance before insisting on such extremes.
Halfway through our conversation, I realized things could be mended if I weren’t stubborn enough to finish the job. Providing quality worthy of a lifetime guarantee is my style of craftsmanship. There’s not a chance in my lowly existence that she’ll ever trust me again. I just want her to be happy, even if I’m not in the picture. The last thing I ever wanted was to hurt her. Her parting words will haunt me, but they provide a barrier I refuse to climb. Maybe she’ll be able to forgive me before leaving town.
“I chased her off,” I admit, a sterile note in my tone.
He leans on an elbow, settling in for the story. “On purpose?”
I shovel the pieces of my ruined coaster into a pile. “Kind of.”
“Why’d you do a stupid thing like that?”
A bulb flickers above me as I glare at the beamed ceiling. “The more Audria talked about being home for the holidays, the more I realized this isn’t her future. She doesn’t see Bam as a place to settle down. I’d be a selfish asshole to corral her here. She’d resent me eventually.”
Gavin shakes his head with a snort. “How noble. Where’s your steed, white knight?”
“She’ll thank me.” Or curse me. Either way, she’s better off.
He flicks my ear. “For stealing her choice? I highly doubt it.”
I recoil and rub my tender lobe. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You made the decision for her. What if she wants to stay?” He moves forward as if to inflict further harm.
“She still can. It’s not like I kicked her out of town.” With a shove, I push myself out of sparring distance. I refuse to be a punching bag for him.
“Such a pansy.” Gavin laughs, lunging for me. One downside to the missing crowd is not having them as shields for his immature antics. “No, she’s still here until June, but you ruined the only deciding factor important enough for her to relocate indefinitely.”
“That’s not true,” I mutter.
“Lord grant me patience,” he chants. “Why are you so terrible at this?”
“Most likely because I’ve never been in a serious relationship?” I phrase it as a question since my confidence on the matter has been flipped upside down as of late. Even as the dust settles, I struggle to find clarity.
“I’ll make this very easy to comprehend.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “I bet she would’ve stayed for you.”
A seed of warmth flickers inside of me. I can’t allow that spark of hope to gain momentum. “Guess I’ll never find out.”
“And that makes you very stupid.”
“I’ve been called worse lately. Mostly by myself,” I mock.
“You’re a sad sack, brother.” He finishes his beer and orders another. Mine has probably grown mold by now. “Need some encouragement?”
“Go for it.” I give him a roll of my wrist.
“I saw Audria yesterday.” He drops that bomb with the type of nonchalance that deserves a solid punch to the kidneys.
My stool squeaks when I spin to confront him. “And you waited until now to share this?”
He picks imaginary lint from his plaid thermal, keeping me on the hook of anticipation. His attempt at suspense mixed with the red-and-black pattern reminds me of Audria. But to be fair, just about anything does. “I didn’t say anything exciting happened.”
“It doesn’t matter. Where was this?” I’ve been trying to accidently bump into her for nearly a week.
“Why does it matter? She’s been released of her burden with you.”
“Don’t be an asshole.”
“Then quit with the denial.”
“Just because we quit dating doesn’t mean I don’t care about her.”
His grin is far too wide. “Sounds like you’ve got it all sorted. What’s next on the docket?”
An urge prods at me, and I check my phone on reflex. The screen is blank. Dammit, that’s a relentless kick to the nuts. “Lick my wounds and figure shit out.”
“Which includes what exactly?”
A s
ticky lump of bile thumps in my gut while I consider my words. “I want to at least smooth things over so we can be civil while she’s still in town.”
Gavin makes the sound of an annoying buzzer. “Wrong answer.”
I flip him off. “Thanks for the advice. Tell me how Audria looked. Give me that, at least.”
“Like a knockout, of course. Not a hair out of place.”
That deflates my posture real quick. Of course she’s moving on without pause. “Good, I’m glad.”
“Jesus, you’re worse than I thought. That was a test. She’s in rough shape but better than this toxic display.” He waves a hand in front of his nose.
With a flinch, the hole in my torso splits and expands. Suffering without her is my penance. The city will bring Audria relief. That’s what I’m banking on to get over this pain. “I’m sure she’ll bounce back soon enough.”
“That’s debatable.”
The twinge in his timbre piques my interest. “Did you talk to her?”
“Yep.” That’s all I get.
It’s my turn to nudge him. “And?”
“Oh, now you’re in a chatty mood.”
“Stop fucking around,” I growl.
Gavin tosses his hands up. “She’s wrecked, brother. I let her cry on my shoulder while reciting our favorite Friends quotes. Is that what you need to hear?”
That knowledge only succeeds in dumping another ton of guilt on my toppling pile. I can barely inhale under the weight. “What should I do?”
“Fix it, you idiot.”
“Your sympathy is astonishing,” I spit.
“I’m not here to coddle you. What’s the new plan?”
“I don’t have one.”
He points at me, tacking on an unwavering stare. “I have a rough draft of my best man speech ready to go. Don’t ruin this for me.”
I arch a brow. “You’re a tad premature. She won’t talk to me, Gav. Not that I expect her to.”
“You have to earn that shit. Be persuasive with your swoony self. I’ve heard what you’re capable of.”
It’s uplifting to imagine Audria sharing some of my finer moments, even the slightest bit. “That proves I’m not completely worthless.”
“I never said you were. I think of you as a very jagged cut of stone that has the potential to shine. The value of polishing such a lumpy clump that currently resembles poop is your call.”