There was only one way to get her out of my system.
One way to put the past behind me.
One way to drown out the memories.
One way to wipe her from my thoughts.
I pulled the top off a bottle of bourbon and took a swig. It burned my throat, but I didn’t care. I swallowed again. Before I knew it, the bottle was empty.
The glass hit the floor with a thud as I fell forward onto the couch. I didn’t know what time it was when I finally passed out, but the last thing I saw was Sierra’s lips. There wasn’t enough alcohol on this island to drink her out of my mind.
I reached for my head when the sun hit me in the face. Fuck. I walked to the kitchen and poured a glass of orange juice and ransacked the cabinets looking for aspirin.
I popped the tablets in my mouth and chugged them down. The old phone my parents had nailed to the wall was still attached. I couldn’t forget the number to Sierra’s aunt’s house if I wanted to. I tapped the digits onto the keypad and waited for her to answer.
“Hello?” She sounded sleepy. It was barely sunrise.
“Hey. It’s Blake.”
“Oh.”
“Look, about last night.” I ran my hand over my neck. The hangover stemmed from somewhere in the lower part of my skull.
“It shouldn’t have gone like that. I think we need a do-over.”
“A what?” she squeaked.
I couldn’t believe I was saying this shit. “A do-over. I’ll pick you up at seven thirty.”
“For what?” she questioned.
That was the question. Was I trying to prove to myself I was over her? Or that I could take her? Use her like she had used me? Prove that I could fuck her over and no longer needed her? Could I drive off this island like she had and not give a fuck about her?
“Come on, Sierra. It’s a date. I’ll pick you up and we’ll just pretend last night never happened.”
“I don’t understand. Last night wasn’t the best reunion. We haven’t talked in years and now it’s a date?”
“We’re older now, aren’t we?” Did she still know me so well that she could read through my bullshit reasons?
She paused. “I guess so.”
“Then just go with it, darlin’. See you tonight.”
I hung up before she could poke more holes in my sudden interest to see her.
9
Sierra
Promptly at seven thirty, the screen door to the kitchen screeched a little as Blake knocked and pulled the weathered door open to enter Aunt Lindy’s house. He had left his truck rumbling in the gravel drive.
“You ready?” he called into the house.
“I’m ready.” I had to stop myself from beaming at him.
Unlike the last time I’d seen him, he wasn’t wearing a scowl. This was different. Very different.
When he’d called this morning I’d been hesitant. Skeptical really, but here he was. Maybe he actually did want to forget the past.