My phone rings, and it’s Rylee. It’s always her.
I sit down on the curb and listen to her sweet voice, which is like a melody to my ears.
I don’t speak. It’s better that way. She would just argue with me anyway. So, I listen. I listen to her tell me she finally found it and that she misses me. I itch to say it back. To tell her that I miss her too. But I don’t because my demons are bigger than hers. My hands are covered in blood and could never again touch something so sweet. She hangs up, and I hang my head, wondering what life is going to bring me next.
Because it sure as shit has thrown a lot of punches my fucking way.
It’s exactly as I left it. Not a thing has changed. I didn’t plan to come back here. Maybe one day, but not this soon.
I did what I needed to do in this town, and it was best I left after that.
Shedding blood stains your soul. Watching the life drain from someone is a whole new level, though.
I don’t regret my decision. I would do it all again in a heartbeat.
I smell her, though, my rich girl. I know she was here, and her scent lingers everywhere. That strong strawberry scent she gives off is lingering in my house. And I love it, even if I can’t see her or touch her.
Headlights shine into the house through the front windows. I open the door to see a familiar car sitting in my driveway.
I know it’s Rylee, even if I can’t see her.
The car stays running, and she makes no move to get out.
Standing there, I wait for her to make the first move. I’m not sure how she knew I was here, but I can guess who told her. Even though I asked him not to. Noah’s the only one who knew I was coming, and Glenn has been too lost in a bottle since I got here to call anyone.
Leaning against the house, I watch as she turns the car off, but her door stays shut.
I wait. It’s all I can do.
A few minutes later, she gets out, and the breath is knocked out of me when she does. She’s as beautiful as ever. Her dark eyes, which I have missed, lock on to mine as she keeps her distance.
I silently beg her to come closer.
It’s her choice I tell my needy hands that want to touch her, grab her, and make her mine.
Rylee takes a tentative step closer to me, her heels digging into the grass as she comes closer. She’s dressed in an all-black, tight-fitting dress. She hasn’t gotten changed from work. Her hands, which are so familiar to me, reach up and touch her hair, pushing it back. Her eyes, the color of pain, search mine with need.
“August.” I can hear the torment in her voice as she speaks my name.
I don’t respond, too afraid of what might leave my mouth if I do. Time hasn’t changed us, it’s too short. But distance can be a bitch. And even with every moment, every mile, I wished and hoped to just touch her one more time.
But if anyone knows anything, it’s you don’t always get what you want, especially when you’re me.
“Do you plan to talk to me?” she asks.
I don’t say anything.
How can I?
Words won’t leave me, and I don’t expect them to.
She huffs. “August.” She says my name with anger now and takes a few steps closer, glaring up at me. “Say my name, August.”
I refuse.
It won’t happen.
That would be letting her in.
“August,” she says once more.
Again, no words from me.
“Fuck you,” she spits and turns, storming back to her car and getting in. I hear it start, but she doesn’t put it in gear. She simply sits there looking at me.
I wait. Because I have nothing else better to do. And then she turns it off and gets back out. I watch as her whole body slumps.
“I love you, August.”
Chapter 10
Rylee
I love him. I told him again. He needs to know he is loved.
So why isn’t he moving, telling me he loves me too? He just stands there staring at me.
I want to punch him, slap him, tell him to speak. But I have a feeling he won’t say a word. That’s crossing a line for him, one he obviously doesn’t want to cross.
Taking the steps two at a time until I am directly in front of him, his eyes never move from mine. They lock on, and I can see everything in him, know that, despite his hard exterior, he loves me as much as I love him.
He just has to remember.
He just has to admit it to himself.
Throwing my arms around him, I push up on him until my lips touch his. The weight of his lips on mine is like ice, cold and touchable, but you know if you touch it for too long it could cause serious injury.