Chapter 39
Trystan
T he bar was packed, bodies pressed against each other, a living, breathing mass celebrating Jax's last night out as a bachelor. The air was thick with the smell of stale beer and cheap cologne. Neon beer signs and bar lights cast a glow over the crowd.
The bass from the speakers pulsed through the floorboards, vibrating up through my feet and into my chest.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my phone and checked it for the four-hundredth time for a response from Cam.
Still nothing...
It had been two months since she left me standing on the beach, and I texted her dozens of times a day, and I'd only gotten one text back that said, 'I am with Owen now.'
"Hey, Trystan," a woman shouted over the music. My gaze lifted from my phone to a short blonde wearing a tiny, tight, short black dress, who looked familiar, but if I did know her, I didn't know her name.
"What's up?" I offered a brief nod before returning to the screen.
"So, your brother is getting married." She shifted closer, her perfume cutting through the stale beer air. My thumb kept scrolling through old messages. "I guess you're next." Her manicured nail tapped my phone screen, forcing my attention up. "Do you want to get a drink?"
"No." The corner of my mouth lifted in a forced smile as I scanned the room. My gaze snagged on Owen's profile at the bar. "I'm... I'm with someone."
"Aww." She pressed her lips together, fake diamonds glinting at her throat as she stepped back. My attention had already returned to my phone screen, Cam's last message burning into my retinas. The blonde's heels clicked away across the hardwood, fading into the bass throb.
I clicked on Cam's contact and opened the messages.
Trystan: I miss you
I shoved my phone back in my pocket and picked up my beer from the tall round table beside me. I brought the bottle to my lips as my gaze landed back on Owen, and my lip curled into a snarl before I took a drink.
Harlow sidled up next to me, her eyes following my line of sight. "It's time to tuck your tail between your legs and walk away, bro."
I flicked her a look before my gaze returned to Owen. "And why would I do that?"
"Because you fucked up and lost." Harlow's shoulders rose and fell in a nonchalant shrug, but her eyes held a hint of sympathy. "He won."
I shook my head. "They're only together because she's trying to convince herself that she's over me."
"Maybe she is."
I huffed out a laugh. "She begged me to fuck her the night before they got together." Harlow's eyes widened. "Does that sound like she's over me?"
"At the beach house?" I didn't respond. "Did you?" I flashed her a knowing glance. "Holy shit." She stared forward, her gaze lingering on Owen.
"You still have a crush on him, don't you?"
Harlow's drink stopped halfway to her lips. "What?" Her eyes darted to me, then to her glass. "I don't..." The ice clinked as she set it down too hard.
A grin tugged at my mouth. "Yes, you do."
Pink crept up her neck as she tugged at her necklace. "Maybe when I was like twelve." Her fingers traced patterns in the condensation on her glass, shoulders hunched. "But I think I've moved on."
"Whatever you say, little sis." I tapped her glass with my bottle, watching her gaze drift back to Owen. "I'm getting out of here and headed to the house for the night. You want to come?"
"I can't." She frowned. "Syn and I are Jax's designated babysitters for the night." Her gaze shifted back to Owen. "And I guess someone should keep him from doing something stupid, too.
"Do me a favor." The beer bottle dangled loose between my fingers as I watched Owen laugh at something across the room. "Let him dig his own hole."
Harlow stepped into my line of sight, forcing my attention down to her face. "Is that really what you want?" Her eyes narrowed, reading something in mine that made her voice sharpen. "You want me to let him hurt her?"
The bottle creaked in my grip, tendons standing out along my forearm. "If he does—" The words scraped out like broken glass. "I'll kill him."
Her palm settled on my shoulder, warm through my shirt. "Go home." A gentle pressure turned me toward the door. "I'm going to get a drink and make sure Jax is behaving."
I shrugged off her hand, gaze drifting to Jax sitting at the bar beside Owen. "He won't do anything to fuck up what he has."
"I know." She was already melting into the crowd, voice trailing behind her. "Good night, Trystan."
I paused at the door, glancing back over my shoulder. "Call me if you need me."
She smiled before disappearing into the crowd, and I jerked the door open.
Stepping outside, I sucked in a deep breath of the cool night air as I pulled my phone out of my pocket again.
Still nothing...
I wanted to see Cam, but she wouldn't even talk to me, much less willingly tell me where she was. I clicked on the location app and watched the screen as I waited for it to find Cam's location.
My house.
She was at my house. Well, that made this a hell of a lot easier. I threw my leg over my bike, pulled my helmet over my head, and sped off.
The five-minute ride home felt like an eternity, the cool night air whipping past me, carrying the scent of freshly mowed grass mixed with rain. I killed my bike's engine in the driveway, the sudden silence deafening. I stood there, heart pounding, gathering the courage to go inside.
I pushed open the door, wincing at the slight creak of the hinges. The house was dark, the only light coming from the soft blue glow of the TV in the living room. My footsteps echoed softly on the hardwood floors as I moved through the entryway, the faint scent of Cam's perfume lingering in the air.
Sucking in a deep breath, I stepped into the living room to find Kaia sleeping on the couch alone.
That meant Cam was probably already upstairs asleep. My shoulders sank with disappointment. Part of me wanted to go up the stairs, slide into bed with her, snuggle up to her, and hold her as long as she'd let me, but I was pretty sure it wouldn't go down like that, and I'd end up with a black eye.
As I padded through the living room, I fished the joint from my pocket; the muffled sound of late-night infomercials followed me to the patio door. I slid it open, stepped out into the cool air, and froze.
Cam sat on the pool's edge. Her dark hair shined in the moonlight, and her feet made soft splashing sounds as they moved lazily through the water.
She flicked a glance over her shoulder. "Oh shit," she groaned, her entire body language changing.
My gaze dropped to the blunt in my hand, my posture stiff and uncomfortable. "I was just coming out to smoke." The words came out flat, betraying my attempt at nonchalance. "I can go..."
Cam's eyes flicked to the joint in my hand, a hint of interest breaking through her guarded expression. "Whatcha smoking?"
I took a step closer, extending the joint toward her. "You want some?" My eyebrow arched in a silent challenge.
She nodded, and my brain danced happily.
Dragging a patio chair beside her, I dropped into the chair, pulled the blunt to my lips, and lit the tip before inhaling deeply.
We sat silently for a long moment, passing the blunt back and forth, yet it didn't feel uncomfortable or awkward.
"Trystan." Cam's voice floated across the water.
I exhaled a long stream of smoke toward the stars. "Yeah?"
Her fingers carved slow circles in the pool, fracturing the moon's reflection into a thousand pieces. "I need you to stop texting me." The words came out so soft I had to lean forward to catch them. Something in my chest cracked - she was slipping away again. "I understand what you're doing, but I'm with Owen now, and I know you don't want me to, but I need to move on. I can't do that with you always calling and texting."
"Maybe that's because we were meant to be." The joint trembled slightly between my fingers.
"It doesn't matter. I'm with Owen. I committed to him, and nothing is going to change that."
I watched Cam's profile in the moonlight, my heart aching with every breath. God, she was beautiful. And here I was, about to promise to leave her alone. To let her go.
I leaned forward in my chair, elbows resting on my knees, and a hint of a smirk played at the corners of my mouth. "I'll make a deal with you." My voice came out steadier than the hammering in my chest suggested it should.
Her head tilted as her feet stilled in the water. "What kind of deal?"
"I'll back off. Let you be with Owen." His name tasted like ash on my tongue. "No more calls, no more texts. After the wedding next weekend, I'm gone."
Her eyebrow arched. "But?"
"But if—" The word hung there until I forced myself to continue. "When—you two break up..." I slid forward in my chair. "You give me another chance."
I watched the emotions play across her face—surprise, consideration, and something else. Hope? Or was that just my desperation reflecting back at me?
Cam's lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze dropping to the rippling water. "You seem so sure it won't work out." A note of defensiveness crept into her voice.
I shrugged. "I know it won't because you were meant for me, and no amount of denial is going to change that." I passed the blunt back to her and pushed out of the chair. "So, do we have a deal?"
Cam wrapped her arms around herself like she was cold. "He's my best friend." She lifted her chin, meeting my gaze defiantly. "And best friends make the best lovers."
I dropped to one knee, close enough to catch the scent of chlorine on her skin. "And how's that going?" Moonlight caught the curve of her neck as she leaned away. "Does he make you come?" The question hung between us like smoke, her silence more telling than any answer.
Her fingers curled against the pool's edge, water dripping between white knuckles. "Shut up." She twisted away, but not before I caught the flush creeping up her neck. "You have a deal." The blunt trembled slightly as she lifted it to her lips, drawing deep before exhaling a stream of smoke toward the distant stars. Her free hand cut through the air between us like a knife. "Now disappear."
I pushed to my full height and strolled away with a smile, knowing I'd get my second chance again. I just had to wait patiently.