When We Were Young (Aron Falls #3)

1. Lizzie

Chapter One

Lizzie

Nothing ruins my day faster than the smell of Landon Carter. I don’t see him right away, but I know that spicy aroma as soon as it hits the surrounding air—it’s Landon’s cologne. I hate it. I was never a fan, but over time, I grew to despise it as the man who wore it showed more of his ugly side.

Seconds later, the chair across from me at the small café table scrapes against the floor, and my ex-boyfriend sits down. Never mind that I’m clearly in the middle of studying, with papers spread across the table, my glasses on, and my attention focused on said papers.

He folds his hands and sets them on top of my tablet, then leans forward. He hovers over the table in a way that crowds me, even though there are a few feet between us.

I sigh, making no effort to tamp it down. I don’t care if he knows I’m annoyed with him.

“Whatcha doing, babe?”

Ew. He says it as if the last year and a half since we broke up hasn’t happened. As if he hasn’t refused to let go.

Normally, that might not be a huge deal because I could simply avoid him.

But it’s been more difficult than it should be.

We’re both from the same small town about two hours away—Hollow Hills—and Landon’s family is quite influential.

They have their hands in almost everything that happens there since they own several of the key businesses that employ the town’s residents.

That makes it easy for them to control people.

In a town far enough from a major city that a commute for work would be untenable, people need to find employment closer to home.

That often means working at a Carter-owned business.

It’s like the Carters have a chokehold on my hometown, and it’s sad to see.

I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest. I glare at him.

“What does it look like I’m doing, Landon? I’m studying. Not everyone can—or would—buy their grades.”

“Tsk, tsk,” he says, shaking his head at me. “Now, now, Angel, you know that’s not true.”

Sour, acidic fluid rushes from my stomach into my mouth at his use of the generic nickname he always used for me.

“I’m just naturally gifted, so good grades come easily to me. I could help you study if you’d like.”

“Your nose is growing, Pinocchio. Remember, I knew you when it looked like you might not graduate high school with the rest of the class. So, no, thank you. I prefer to study alone.”

My tone leaves no question that I mean every word.

Anger flashes in his eyes for a split second.

But it’s true—Landon’s dad, Theodore Carter, would never tolerate the shame of one of his children failing to rise to the impossibly high Carter standards. And there’s no question that the amount of money his father donates to this university influences how easy Landon’s life is here.

Not that Mr. Carter ever felt State University—his own alma mater—was good enough for his son. He blamed me when Landon followed me here. I’ll never forget his face, the angriest shade of red I’ve ever seen, when Landon told him he’d been accepted here.

I shouldn’t have been there, should never have seen, or heard, any of it. But Landon dismissed my request that he wait until I wasn’t around to tell his dad about his decision to attend State University. So, I was there as Mr. Carter spewed his hateful words.

“You will not throw away your life for a low-rent slut who uses what’s between her legs to control you.”

The words hurt. But what wounded me more was that Landon said nothing to defend me against them.

In the end, Landon ignored his father and enrolled anyway.

I suspect he knew deep down that once I got out of our small town, made new friends, and broadened my horizons, I would find my backbone and leave him. That he would no longer be able to control me.

Still, it doesn’t mean he hasn’t tried.

I force the memories out of my mind, not wanting to give him any more of my energy.

He narrows his eyes and stares at me for several long moments before he speaks again.

“Okay. What are you doing tonight? There’s a party at the house. Why don’t you come? You can stay the night in my room, so you don’t have to worry about drinking. I swear, no funny business.”

Despite the fact that I would rather sleep by the dining hall dumpsters, fending off raccoons and rodents, than sleep in a bed that belongs to Landon, there’s no question from the telltale twitch near his left eye that he’s lying.

He would totally take it as an opportunity to try to reignite something.

Or take something that’s not his to take.

“No thanks. You know I don’t feel comfortable at the frat house when there are parties going on.”

Or ever.

Landon huffs and repositions himself, so he’s sitting upright. His jaw clenches slightly. He hates that I never embraced that part of his life. His “brotherhood,” as he calls it. As if he and his brothers do anything but party and choose a bedmate like one chooses what socks to wear for the day.

“If this is still about that time with Ashley, I told you nothing happened. I’m—”

“It has nothing to do with that. That’s the past, and it doesn’t matter now. I don’t enjoy going there, and I have to study. So, if you don’t mind, I really need to get back to it.” My words become clipped, my tone dismissive.

He glares at me, his features taut, his hands fisted, and his knuckles white from how tightly he’s squeezing them.

“I’m gonna go now, but we need to talk soon. Get through whatever test you’re studying for and then text me because this is ridiculous, Angel. People don’t throw away years together without a good reason.”

I look at him for a minute, silent. Nothing he could possibly say would change our relationship status, and I have no intention of sitting down and talking with him again. He clearly doesn’t see that our problems weren’t small, at least not to me.

Without another word, he rises, turns, and leaves the café.

Relief washes over me. Deep down, I know his obsession with getting back together—with possessing me—is walking a line and leaning toward concerning.

What I ever saw in him, I don’t know. Okay, that’s not fair. When we were just kids, and then later, when we started dating in high school, Landon wasn’t like this. He could be romantic when he wanted to be, and even though he was never a great conversationalist, he didn’t talk to me like this.

I don’t know if he changed or if he was always this way and wore a mask until he thought he had me where I couldn’t leave him. It doesn’t matter because that’s water under the bridge. I could never care for him romantically again.

Love shouldn’t make you feel tense. It shouldn’t put your body into fight-or-flight mode on a regular basis.

I pull myself together and push him out of my mind.

Needing more coffee, I grab my mug and take it to the counter for a refill. Anita, the lovely woman who owns this little café, gives me a sad smile as she pours my coffee and loads it up with half-and-half. When she hands it back to me, she meets my gaze.

“Don’t worry. I was watching. This café will always be a safe place for you to study. I’ve got my eye on you, sweetie.”

My cheeks heat, and I imagine they turn pink.

I’m embarrassed that she saw the interaction.

I’m probably more ashamed that she has seen it several times, unfortunately.

I know that if Anita saw things escalating, she would step in and probably call the police.

I’m not sure that would even be the right move with the Carters involved.

Mr. Carter would “fix” it and probably find a way to punish her for daring to call law enforcement on his son.

I smile at her. “Thanks, Anita. I really appreciate it. I know I don’t really spend that much money here, but you always let me stay, and I’m grateful.”

Anita reaches across the counter and squeezes my hand. Her kind eyes focus on mine.

“You’re always welcome here. And money isn’t everything, honey. Between you and me, I don’t actually need this café from a financial standpoint. It’s more of a distraction after I lost my husband. So, you never have to worry about being here. I like the company.”

I return to my table and wrap my hands around my special mug.

That’s one of the cool things about Anita’s place.

You can bring or buy your own mug and join the monthly club for a reasonable fee to get unlimited coffee all month.

Basically, it’s all you can drink after you’ve paid your fee, and you always have your own favorite cup hanging on the wall.

I spend the next couple of minutes trying to get back into studying math, but I can’t. Landon destroyed my concentration.

I glance down at my watch. If I hurry, I can still make it to the university recreation center pool before work.

Maybe getting some exercise will help erase today’s events from my mind.

I pack my stuff, say goodbye to Anita, and rush to my car.

I keep my swim bag in here all the time, prepared for an impromptu swim.

A few minutes later, I’m geared up in my suit and ready to dive into the water. When I take the plunge, the warmth of the water soothes me. I let the velocity of the dive itself, and the movement of my body through the water, propel me far from the edge before I break the surface and swim.

When I do, it takes about two laps for my thoughts to clear. Being submerged in the water with earplugs in so I don’t hear the outside world calms me.

Sometimes I wonder if it all ties back to memories of my parents taking us to swimming lessons when my sister, Lindsay, and I were kids.

Swimming lessons, followed by a family swim afterward, were always one of the brightest spots of our week.

It was as if our father transformed into a different dad and wanted to pay attention to us.

During those couple of hours every Wednesday evening, he seemed like all the other dads.

Maybe that’s how water became my safe place—through those pleasant memories.

I push myself until I complete thirty-six laps, then rest with my arms propped on the side of the pool and my chin resting on my hands.

I turn my head and lay my cheek on my hands while I catch my breath.

Though I want to think about nothing—or at least about my present surroundings—my everyday worries invade my headspace once again.

Passing my classes. Graduating. Steps to achieving my dreams.

I’d love to own a little shop that sells coffee and pastries like Anita’s, but I also want to teach people how to bake and cook. It’s one of my favorite things, and I even have a top-secret name picked out.

I want to leave the small town where Landon and I grew up. Start a new life. One that I control.

I hope I get the chance, because I would be a fool not to consider that my future lies in the hands of how my mom is doing. I’m not sure she can make life work without my sister and me around to help her. After all, we’ve been doing it since we were kids.

Dreaming is the easy part. Whether I can break free of what awaits me back home in Hollow Hills remains to be seen.