“Ainsley.” I’m cut off by a deep masculine voice that burns like fire searing into my heart.
Looking up into a pair of familiar crystal blue eyes that sometimes still find me in my dreams, I can’t help but release a loud gasp at the sight before me. Standing tall and strong in a plain white tee and some well-worn jeans, a leather jacket, and some biker boots, is my childhood friend, Ezra. Even more beautiful than when I’d left him behind in my old life, he’d just started puberty and was still lanky. Now he’s got muscles on muscles, his T-shirt clearly straining against his abs. His dark hair is only still black at the roots but bleached to perfection and icily white, it stands messily in a euro-hawk fashion, and it looks so damn good against his summer tanned skin.
When he sees that I’ve been shocked speechless he smirks, using two calloused fingers to close my gaping mouth. I’m sure I look like an idiot, but seriously, what’s he doing here on the other side of the country? And what’s the likelihood that I’ve run into him out of all the people in New York City? My skin prickles in awareness and an anxious need to run away. I can’t be here looking at this beautiful man that somehow recaptured my whole ass heart within the span of one singular second and my name on his lips.
“Close that mouth Ains, before I decide to put it to good use,” he chuckles. His egotistical innuendo is enough to snap me out of my shocked stupor and have me backing up a few more steps.
“Wait, what? It’s been like eight years and that’s the first thing you say to me?” I ask, irritated as fuck.
“It’s not like it’s my fault you left without a trace. You’re the one who decided to bail on me—on us—and never look back. Now I finally find you only for you to be staring off at some guy like you can’t live without him or some shit,” he huffs, jealousy shining bright and clear in his ocean eyes.
“Um, that’s definitely not what happened. Not any of it and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t treat me the way you are. You don’t even know me anymore,” I reprimand.
“And whose fault is that?” he asks.
“Not mine! I was fourteen! It’s not like I had a say in the matter. Do you think it was easy to leave everything I knew behind?”
“Yeah, I do actually because you sure made it look easy. The guys and I called and texted. Hell, I even emailed you. Nothing. Not even a postcard from our best friend that up and disappeared without looking back.” His anger hits me like a punch to the gut. This sweet young boy turned into such a hardened man and it seems to be all my fault. How can I explain the way I loved him, the way I loved all of them, and had to keep it to myself because love like that only exists in romance novels? It isn’t real.
My heart hurts so profoundly in this moment that I don’t know if I’ll recover. I have to get away from him and the longing I see staring back at me. “I’m sorry. I just—I should… I have to go. Ezra, I can’t do this with you,” I let out on an exhale. It really feels like my lungs won’t expand and I’m worried a fainting spell is in my future if I don’t run. Now. “I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you,” I whisper, and then turn on my heel and run away as fast as I can so he can’t see the tears streaming down my face. My cries turn to full blown sobs when I hear the echo of his voice from behind me.
“I’ll never forgive you for it either…”
And for the first time ever in my life, I call in sick to my restaurant job and my volunteer job. I skip my homework, and I curl into a ball and let myself truly mourn the loss of my first loves.
Chapter Four
Ainsley James Dyan
Wakingupthismorningis harder than it should be. Getting out of bed feels worse than anything I could’ve ever imagined. There’s a weight on my chest that wasn’t there before. The air refuses to reach my lungs. From head to toe, everything just aches. My heart feels like it’s being held together with scotch tape and my head is pounding like I threw back a fifth of tequila. I didn’t, but my sore body argues that I might as well have since it feels hungover.
My eyes feel bruised and puffy, and my stomach has that horrible clenching feeling, like when you’re throwing up but there’s nothing left in your body so you just keep retching and gagging, causing unnecessary stress on your body.
I cried into my pillow for hours last night, praying for sleep to come and take me away from my misery. When Mr. Sandman finally came, he did a shit job of helping a girl out, because I tossed and turned all night. My dreams consisted of five teenage boys telling me off and making me hate myself more than I ever thought I could, with intermittent flashes of Ezra all grown up and the mixture of hatred and longing staring at me as he cursed me just the same as fourteen year old dream him did.
Why did I have to see him? How is it possible with over three hundred million people living in the United States that I see him in my city of over eight million people? That can’t have been a coincidence. Like, the likelihood of that is little to none. He clearly didn’t want to see me though, seeing as he didn’t have anything nice to say. What did I do that was so horrible that the universe would curse me like this? Damn, this sucks.
Maybe I won’t see him again. I guess it could’ve just been a freaky coincidence and now all I have to do is pick up the broken pieces of myself and put a smile back on my face. I can do this.
Now that I’ve let myself fall apart, it’s time to put myself back together again. I’m not Humpty Dumpty. I’m a strong, capable young woman who’s determined to make the best of things.
Reaching over to my nightstand, I double check the time, noting that I’ve overslept my tutoring gig and shoot a quick text to the student I was meant to meet, offering an apology. Then I open myYou Matterapp and see a long string of messages from Jax throughout the night. My gut clenches harder as guilt makes itself known in there like it’s eating me alive.
08:00pm Jax:Hey there A, how’s your night going? Mine’s not so good tonight, but I’ve managed to keep most of the more morbid intrusive thoughts at bay. I could really use a friend tonight though.
09:00pm Jax:A, is everything okay? Where are you? I really need you tonight. Please.
10:00pm Jax:This isn’t cool, A. You knew I’d message you tonight. I always message you at this time. I only get time with you, my only friend in the world, from eight to midnight and you’re taking that away from me.
11:00pm Jax:I’m really sorry. My last message was uncalled for. It wasn’t very nice. I’m struggling tonight but that doesn’t mean I should take it out on you. I guess I’ve just become reliant on our friendship to keep me from the dark places my mind goes.
11:15pm Jax:I really hope nothing bad has happened to you. You’re my favorite person in the world and without you there will be no more me.
11:30pm Jax:I’m starting to freak out that you’re not responding. I can’t be held responsible for my actions if you don’t message me back.
11:35 Jax:You need to message me back. Now. This isn’t funny.
11:45 Jax:Whatever happens going forward is on you. It will all be your fault.
