Aarabelle
My careless fling in London is incurable. Once again, I feel like he’s everywhere I look. Worse still, they’re playing his songs on the radio on repeat. I slam my finger into the power button when his smooth voice starts singing about a jilted lover and sweet tart lips.My favorite candy. A candy that quite literally no one else in the world enjoys.
“That absolute nitwit! I hate him so much. There aren’t enough hate words in the world to describe what hearing him makes me feel.”
Marissa is in the passenger seat dutifully ignoring me as we drive home from the beach. “Did you know that beavers have glands next to their asshole that produce Castoreum? They put it in perfume and coffee creamer and stuff you’d never expect.”
“Wrong direction,” I sigh, annoyed.
“Do you want to plan a girl’s trip to wine country?”
Now she’s talking. “For after deployment? Yes. That’s the best idea you’ve ever come up with.”
“You’re not going to be able to avoid him completely.”
I know. It’s still annoying. We spent the day not talking, just sitting next to each other, enjoying the ocean and the salty sea breeze. We had a quick lunch in our favorite café that overlooks a cave where seals, the actual animals, play and swim. “Don’t bring him up ever. As my best friend that’s your duty. That and to plan the wine country trip.”
She tilts her pretend hat to me when I pull up next to her building and put the car in park. Marissa gathers her oversized bag and towel from the back seat and closes the door. Leaning into the open window, she clears her throat. “You ignored every question I asked you about Hart today. I noticed. Obviously. I’ll give you a few more hours and then I’m going to call you.” She snaps her fingers when I turn my gaze forward. I look back. “You’re going to tell me everything. You know what happens when you don’t tell me everything? I can’t protect you.”
I slam my steering wheel with both hands. “There’s nothing to tell!” My voice is loud. “I’m sorry. There really isn’t anything to tell.” Lying to her isn’t easy. Lying in general isn’t easy, but I don’t want to make something out of nothing. If things progress with Luke, I will tell Marissa because having someone in my corner will be needed. “If there was something to tell I’d tell you.”
If Luke were an average guy, I’d tell her about the drinking game. About how he makes me feel naked by merely looking in my direction. I’d tell her about skydiving alone with him…wait, that’s not a normal guy thing. I’d start at the beginning and give every gory detail. Pistachios, cars, touches that brought me to life. The way he tried to comfort me about Henry when God knows he shouldn’t have had to. I’m so self-centered when it comes to my mistakes. Like, mine are worse than anyone else’s. One day, I’ll get over it. Today is not that day.
Marissa huffs, taps the window frame a couple times and walks away. Sighing, I roll up the window and drive to my place. It’s a short distance away. The second I pull into the parking lot of the condo complex, I know something is wholly and fully wrong. There are too many cars and people loitering around the entrance to the stairway that leads to my unit.
News crews. Cameras. My heart thumps jaggedly as I try to make heads or tails of the scene before me. What are the chances someone got murdered and they’re here covering that? Someone spots my car and points at me.Fuck.This is unreal. No one should care this much about a female Navy SEAL. Narrowing my eyes as I pull into a parking spot far enough away, I see what some of the media folks are holding. Photos, no, posters of Henry. Then he appears, from the back of a white van.
What in the ever-loving fuck is happening right now? I dial Marissa with no answer. She’s probably in the shower. I dial my mom without success, as he walks slowly to my car the press trailing behind him. I hit her voicemail and hang up. I don’t want to drag him into my shit spiral, but I call Luke.
He answers on the first ring. “Hey, uh,” I say, swallowing when Henry is close enough to see details of his face. The schmuck is smiling. He’s happy. “The press is bad at my condo and I don’t know what to do.”
“Are you okay?”
My heart skips a beat. “Not really.”
“Pack a bag and come over. You can stay at my house until this dies down. Do you need my help right now?”
I can’t stay at his house, can I? How suspicious would that be? Living with Luke Hart? “Are you sure? I don’t think I need help now.” Will I be able to get out of this crowd alive?
“We could go a month and not see each other at my house, Dempsey. I’m definitely sure. I’d offer this to any of my brothers.” There’s no hesitation in his tone and I think I fall for him a little more.
“Are you home now?” It’s Sunday. I know he’s there. It’s his religion. His family is also probably there. “I don’t want to intrude on family time.”
“They’re asking where you’re at. Remember your bathing suit this time.” Then he hangs up. The simplicity in his request is confusing. How can he tell me to move in and be so flippant? Maybe I mean less to him than I thought before. I don’t have long to ponder because my ex with several people following him, is almost to my car. My fingers on the handle, I pull down my worn-out Dodgers baseball cap to hide my face and get out. I lock it and keep my keys in my hand for a quick entry into my condo.
“Aarabelle, love,” Henry drawls. “I’ve been waiting for you all day. We need to talk.” Funny, he wants to do the one thing that could have halted this mayhem way back when. If he’d just told me he wanted to break up with me because he wanted to screw other women, I would have brushed past this more easily. No. He didn’t want to talk. He only reacts.
My eyes nearly bug out of my head. “What the hell, Henry? I’m not talking to you. How did you find my place?”
He grins, it meets his eyes and they crinkle. I look away and continue speed walking across the lot. He follows, matching me stride for stride. “I’m sorry. It was an easy lookup. Please, love, won’t you talk to me for just a second. You’re a hero here. Let’s be a team again. I miss us.”
That stops me in my tracks. “A team? That’s what you think we were? What we’ll be again? I know what a real team is, and it definitely doesn’t include you or your loose morals.” I spin on my heel. “The nerve,” I hiss. “You are such a self-centered prick, Henry Durnin.” That, I say loud enough for the people following us to hear. I’m a few stairs up when he says my name again. A plea. “What?” I yell.
“I’m sorry.” He opens his arms to the sides. “Think about it, would you?” Reporters are screaming questions at me and he’s so used to it, it seems to be a mild inconvenience.
I wave to the circus he’s turned my parking lot into. “Did you think this would be some beautiful reunion? Where’s Aurora, Henry? You are delusional.” I take a few stairs and then glance over my shoulder to meet his eyes. “And your new music is absolute garbage. That sweet tart song? Trash!”
I run up the remaining stairs, unlock my door and slam it closed. They’ll be there when I exit, I’m sure of it, but I don’t plan to be in here long. Heading straight to my closet, I throw open my suitcase and start piling in anything I think I might need for an extended stay. I don’t have much in my condo and haven’t bothered decorating. It’s furnished with all new furniture, but that’s where I’m at in the new house process. Huffing, I replay Henry’s words in my mind. The audacity. The nerve. The absolute out of touch, tone deaf moron thinks I’ll give him another chance. Because he knows I have a spotlight on me. He is such a user and it hurts. First, he uses Aurora to get where he wants with regard to his career, and now he wants to use me. Again. The nausea hits as I’m crouched over a packed suitcase filled with mostly workout gear and tennis shoes. I grab my toiletry bag, my makeup bag, and on a whim because I’m feeling sorry for myself, my stuffed fox, Clement.
