Where I Found You (Heart's Compass Book 1)

by Brooke O'Brien

  He has the power to destroy me, and that’s what scares me the most.

  If I’m honest, I’m terrified of how he would react. The uneasiness of him looking at me differently than he does now scares me. If I think too long about it, the fear of never finding this again with someone else has me wanting to wrap my arms around him.

  He has the power to crush my already broken heart if he were to walk away from me.

  Leaning my bike against the side of the library building, I grab my purse from the front basket and drape it across my left shoulder as my phone starts to vibrate in my pocket.

  Smiling to myself, I slide my phone out, finding a missed text from Callum. His job has kept him busy wrapping up the loose ends before he goes out of town on Sunday, so any opportunity to talk to him before he leaves makes me happy.

  Callum: Staring at all these papers on my desk, I can’t even concentrate. I miss you, sweetheart, and those lips.

  My lips feel tingly just thinking about kissing Callum.

  Feeling bold, I open the Camera app and scroll over to the video option. Turning the camera so it’s facing me, I hold the phone out in front of me. Hitting the record button, I smile at the camera and tell Callum I miss him, too, before blowing him a kiss. Before I consider chickening out, I upload the video and quickly hit send.

  Staring at the messages, I wait to see the bubble appear alerting me he’s typing. Chewing on my lip, I count the seconds as they tick by waiting for him to finish typing until my phone vibrates again with his message.

  Callum: Fuuuuck, you’re beautiful.

  “Ellie, is that you?” I hear, startling me. I can feel my face turn red as if I was caught doing something wrong. Not to mention, not many people know me in town.

  Turning around, I recognize Jeff standing in front of me. He looks handsome with a navy and orange plaid button up shirt, worn denim jeans, and brown Oxfords. His hair is styled so it’s swept out of his face in a careless look. He has an easy smile and strikingly beautiful eyes.

  “Jeff, hey! Nice to see you!” I say, remembering my manners but also not forgetting the way Callum reacted to seeing him at the hospital.

  “It’s great to see you, too. You look good,” Jeff says, raking his eyes down my body briefly before bringing them back to meet mine. “How is your wrist?” he asks, seemingly interested.

  “It’s okay, still a little sore but feeling much better. Thank you,” I say, ignoring his earlier comments. I feel awkward because both times I’ve been around him there was some nervous tension between him and Callum. I still don’t know their history, but I can tell something is there boiling beneath the surface.

  Jeff, being a complete gentleman, continues to ask questions about how things have been since the move and asks what I’m out doing. I humor him, but in the back of my mind, I know that this conversation would likely upset Callum, which I’m not interested in doing.

  “Do you have any plans for this evening?” he hints, “I know this is short notice and all but I have tickets with a couple of friends to the Jason Aldean concert for this weekend up in Monroe. I have an extra one if you’d be interested?”

  “I’m sorry, I have plans,” I say, feeling uncomfortable. He must pick up my hint, nodding his head. “Thanks for the invite, though; it’s kind of you to offer.”

  This is not something I’m used to doing, turning down a date. Where I am from, most people didn’t even notice me.

  Correction: Most people wanted to pretend I wasn’t there.

  “I should probably get going,” I mumble, pointing behind me toward the library. “I have a lunch date after I get done with some errands.”

  “Yeah, sure no problem. It was great to see you.” He smiles brightly, leaning in and kissing me on the cheek, his hand pressed against my lower back. I feel my body tense at the unexpected gesture. Reminding myself to breathe, I take a step back forcing a smile and leaving him with a wave.

  Rubbing my fingers across my forehead, I massage it hoping the pressure alleviates the dull ache. I’ve been looking over these documents and contracts for an upcoming project, and things just aren’t adding up. I’m sure if I took a break and closed up for the night, coming back to it fresh tomorrow will probably help, but I need to get this squared away. I have no desire to come into the office on a Saturday.

  This project has been consuming my every minute this week.

  The vibrating sound of my phone on my mahogany desk draws my attention away from the papers laid out in front of me. Reaching over, I pick up the phone hoping to see Ellie’s name across my screen. We have plans for me to stop by tonight. Since I’m heading out of town on Sunday, I want to spend all the time I can with her.

  I can’t help the annoyance that seeps in seeing a missed text message from Madison. Ever since the night at Brodie’s, I made it abundantly clear I was no longer interested. She didn’t take it very well, but she hasn’t been known to back down.

  If she thinks I’m interested, she has another thing coming.

  Mad: I didn’t realize your friend was talking to Jeff as well?

  What the fuck is she talking about? Tapping on the keyboard, I start to type out a response when a picture pops up on my screen. Double clicking on it, the image maximizes to the full screen, and my heart drops to my stomach as I curl my fist.

  “What the fuck?” I shout.

  The picture in front of me is a man leaning down in front of him to a petite blonde. The man has one of his hands pressed against her lower back and his head angled down toward her neck. Although I can only see Ellie from behind, I can tell it’s her by the color of her hair and the shirt she is wearing. It’s the same shirt she was wearing in the video she sent me earlier.

  Growling in response to seeing another man with his arms wrapped around my girl, I stand up, pushing my chair against the wall, hitting it with a loud bang.

  The throbbing pain in my head continues as I stand with my arms crossed in front of me, rubbing my head. Picturing Ellie with Jeff, thinking about him being on the receiving end of her sweetness, fills me with so much rage. Questions of when they were together and what they were doing consume me, and I know I need to leave. I need to go to her, talk to her, and get answers.

  I’m not going to go through this again.

  The knot in the pit of my stomach leaves me feeling nauseating. Shuffling the papers on my desk together, I deposit them in my file cabinet and quickly lock up. As I walk out, I see the light in Randy’s office is still on.

  “Hey, I’m going to take off. I got some things to take care of. I’ll be in at some point to wrap things up before I head out on Sunday,” I say curtly.

  Randy looks up at me from his desk. “Everything okay, son?” he asks, concern lining his brow.

  “S’all good,” I say, wanting to make it quick so I can leave.

  “I could hear you yelling and banging around in there. Does it have to do with your brother?”

  Ever since the argument with Mason, I’ve continued to answer questions from my mom and Randy. I know they are just worried, but at this point, there isn’t much to say.

  “No, just have some things to handle.”

  “Alright, son, you have a good night and drive careful,” he says, nodding his head as I exit his office. Not wasting any time, I head out to the parking lot around the back where my pick-up is parked and pull the keys from my pocket. Pushing the button to unlock the door, I hear the beep of the alarm as the locks click.

  Climbing in the cab, I throw my phone in the cup holder and lean back with my head against the headrest. I need to chill out before I talk to Ellie, knowing it would likely scare her or piss her off. I keep hoping I’ve misunderstood the picture Madison sent, but seeing his arms wrapped around her and his head near her neck has a weight settling on my chest nearly crushing me.

  Picking up my phone, I shoot Wes a text asking him to meet me up at Brodie’s when a text message from Ellie comes through.

  Ellie: When will you be here? Mis
s you.

  Hearing those words from Ellie has me rubbing my hand over my chest fighting off the tightness I feel. Wes responds back that he’ll meet me there in ten minutes.

  Me: I’m meeting up with Wes for a beer at Brodie’s.

  Staring back at the screen on my phone, I can see she read the message and the bubble appears alerting me that she is typing a response. I know she is probably wondering what is going on and I can’t help but feel like I’m going out of my mind thinking the same thing.

  Ellie: Oh. Okay.

  I throw my phone over on the passenger seat away from me. I know I need to talk to Ellie about the text message. I’m taking my past with Jeff out on Ellie, but I can’t help wanting to demand that she tell me what the hell this is about.

  I just need to cool off before I go in heated and end up ruining things with her. A few minutes later I pull up in front of Brodie’s next to Wes’s motorcycle. It’s a chilly night, and the sun is starting to set, but that has never stopped Wes from riding. These are the nights he enjoys the most.

  Heading up to the bar, I take a seat next to Wes, clapping a hand on his back.

  “What’s up, bro?” The words coming out rougher than I intended. Sitting down, I see he took the liberty of ordering me a beer, which I’m grateful for.

  “Hey, man, not much. Everything alright?” It’s not unlike me to call or text Wes on short notice and ask him if he’s free to meet for a beer. I’m sure my less than chipper self tells him that something is off.

  Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I pull up the text message from Mad and hand my phone over to him. “I was great up until I got this message about an hour ago.”

  Picking up the phone from the bar, he studies the message and picture. Handing it back to me, he looks up at me with the same anger in his eyes. He knows all about my history with Jeff.

  “Is that who the fuck I think it is?” he spits out angrily, pointing at the blonde in the picture. Wes has been here for me through it all. Through all the bullshit with Madison and Jeff. This isn’t the first time we’ve had a look of hatred in our eyes for him.

  Nodding my head, I acknowledge his question. Rubbing my fingers across my forehead again, I wrap my fingers around the neck of the bottle and take a swig.

  “She met him that night at Brodie’s, and we ran into him again when we were up at the hospital,” I say, pain and frustration lacing my voice.

  “Have you asked her about it? Maybe it is all a misunderstanding,” Wes questions. He knows as well as I do that having his arms wrapped around Kinsley would easily set him off, too. Mad is hardly a person to be trusted when it comes to being a trustworthy source of information.

  “Nah, I haven’t talked to her much except to tell her I was meeting you here. Although, I made it a point the day we were at the hospital I wanted him nowhere near her, which she was pissed about. I needed to chill before I approached the subject.” Wes nods in agreement.

  “I think you should talk to her. Ask her what’s going on.” Shaking my head, I look up at the TV screen mounted on the wall. “You’re different with her, man. She’s not Madison. Don’t let her fuck this up for you, that’s what she wants.”

  I hang around for a little while longer, shooting the shit. I tell Wes about the job coming up and how I’ll be heading out of town on Sunday. We bullshit about how things are going with the bike rebuild and how things are going at the shop. Two beers and a little over an hour later, I’m ready to head out to see my girl.

  When I pull up the gravel of her drive, the light on her front porch is on, and I can see the soft glow of the lamp shining through the window. I picture her sitting on her couch with a book in her hand or curled up under her blanket.

  Opening the screen door, I knock twice before taking a step back. I use it as separation from her because nothing is stopping me from taking her in my arms when she’s standing before me. Through the window, I can see her eyes peer out at me with her hair piled high up on her head. She’s wearing the glasses she normally wears for reading, so it looks like I was right.

  The locks click and the old doorknob twists and creaks as she swings the door open. Her eyes are full of concern and worry. Her left arm is wrapped around her middle while her right hand tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. I can see the hesitancy in her movements, uncertain what’s going on.

  “Hi,” she mumbles softly, looking up at me to meet my eyes. “Everything okay?”

  “I’m hoping you can tell me,” I say, jumping right into it. “Can I come in?”

  She nods and steps back, motioning for me to enter. Sliding my shoes off, I follow her over to the couch to take a seat. It takes everything in me not to wrap her up in my arms and pull her to me. My need to feel her close is consuming me, but I know now more than ever that I need to address the elephant in the room.

  “Have you been seeing anyone else?” I ask, needing to know the answer to my question. The anger in me from the picture bubbles out, giving an edge of irritation to my tone.

  “What the hell do you mean?” she bites back harshly. There she is – my feisty girl.

  She keeps so many things hidden from me, and I’ve given her space in letting our relationship progress naturally, not wanting to put pressure on her. I know there are parts of her she hasn’t been ready to share with me yet. I understand and respect that. With everything going on, now the questions swirling around in my brain have me questioning so much.

  Things I don’t want to question. Not with her.

  Putting both of my elbows on my knees, I fold my hands together and rest my chin against them in thought.

  “What are we exactly?” I question, turning my head to look at her, searching her eyes for answers. “Who am I to you, Ellie? You know how I feel but you keep so much from me that sometimes I worry I don’t even know who you are.”

  A wave of hurt flashes on her face as her hand wraps around her necklace. She starts to rub her fist over her chest, as if my words are causing her physical pain which makes me feel like shit.

  “Up until you showed up here and started spewing this bullshit at me, I thought we were together. After what happened last night, I sure as shit hoped we were. I don’t have a label for it,” she says, raising her voice. “I don’t know what it is exactly. We’ve never discussed it. If I’m being honest with myself, the way you look at me and the way you make me feel does more to me than anything I’ve ever felt before. More than any label I could possibly put on it. I just knew I was yours, and I thought you were mine. However, now I’m questioning what the hell is going on,” she says with a huff, sliding to the opposite end of the couch, putting space between us.

  More space than I want between us right now.

  All I can think about after hearing her out is the part about how the way I look at her and make her feel is more than any label she could come up with. Leaning back against the back of the couch, I open my arm in invitation. “Come here, baby,” I say softly.

  Her eyes roam over my face with a questioning glare. Her face softens as she slides closer to me. Shaking my head at her movements. “Not good enough, babe. I need to feel you.”

  Sliding back to give her room, I motion for her to climb over me straddling my lap. Swinging her leg over, she slides over onto my lap. Moving my hands up her thighs and over her hips, I drag her closer so she is pressed against me, leaving little space between us as I hear the subtle inhale of her breath.

  Sliding my phone out of my pocket, I pull up my messages and click on the picture Madison sent me. Seeing the picture again has the anger bubbling along the surface, tempting me. Turning the screen around to face Ellie, I study her reaction as I ask, “Care to tell me what this is about?”

  A look of surprise passes over her face as she studies the picture. I can tell something is bothering her by the way she chews on her bottom lip, avoiding my stare.

  “Is this what has you so upset?” Ellie asks, choosing to ignore my question. Leaning in closer wrapping her hands arou
nd my neck, she draws me in so my forehead is pressed to hers.

  “It’s not what it looks like, I swear,” she whispers against my mouth. Letting a breath out I didn’t realize I was holding, I nod my head. Leaning back a little to look me in the eyes, she keeps her hands wrapped around my neck.

  “I ran into him outside of the library when I was heading over to Kinsley’s salon to meet up with her for lunch. He saw me when I was locking my bike up and was saying hello. This was him saying goodbye,” she explains, pointing towards the picture.

  “I don’t want him touching you or anywhere near you. You are mine, Ellie!” I growl in response.

  Ellie moves to slide back, breaking the connection that we had. Her arms are crossed in front of her, and her face is straight with indignation. She exudes so much sass I nearly laugh. This is not up for negotiation. She is mine and I will not let anyone, especially Jeff Sahls, touch what belongs to me.

  “You look real cute when you’re mad, sweetheart. Any argument you have on this topic is pointless. It’s a fucking fact, like the grass is green and the sky is blue. You are mine and I don’t want anyone touchin’ you, especially him!”

  “Why did you get so upset the day we were at the hospital?” she asks, searching my face. I should’ve known sooner or later this conversation would come up again. I should’ve expected she would want to know our history, and that’s not something I want to go into. The past, just like it is for her, is not something I want to explain or relive.

  “I got upset at the hospital because Jeff has a history of going after what is not his to touch and what happens to be mine.”

  “Madison,” she says, matter-of-factly. I only respond with a nod of the head. “That…” She pauses, as if she is searching her memory.

  “That’s why… it makes sense now,” she says, pressing her fingers to her lips as if everything is coming back to her and the pieces are starting to fit together. “I saw Madison outside at the bar when I went out to take a breather. She approached me and made a comment about me having good taste in men. I didn’t think too much into it at the time. I thought she was talking about you, but she wasn’t. She was talking about Jeff, too.”