Chapter 13
thirteen
T he next day, I drifted on my belly over the surfboard, watching wave after wave go by in the morning sun. My focus stayed on Micah, swerving his board in and out of a chest-high wave. Pain had made a home in my heart. This might be our last day together. I had to talk to him. Putting it off would only make things worse if he decided it was too risky to continue what we had. But I should talk to him after we surfed. When he’d be in a good mood. As I fought off the nausea balling in my gut, I clenched my jaw.
He jumped off his board, swam out of the surf and back onto his board, then paddled toward me. “What’s wrong? Did you get hurt or something?”
“No, I’m not hurt.” My body was fine. It was my heart that was the problem. I gazed over the horizon.
“Why aren’t you taking any more waves? You’ve just been sitting there for the last half hour.” He brought his board next to mine.
“I don’t know. I think I’m just not into it today.” I swallowed over the dryness in my throat. I had to either pull out of this mood or have the talk.
“Why not? This isn’t like you.” He pressed his lips together. “You’ve been acting weird all day. What’s up?”
“Micah, we need to talk.” I slapped my hand over my mouth, widening my eyes. My chest squeezed. “Shit.” I wasn’t ready.
“About what?” He creased his forehead.
“Let’s go up on the beach.” My heart raced as if I were sprinting. I looked behind me, watching for the next wave I could ride in.
He paddled and took a smaller wave onto shore, with me following.
As we glided into the surf, we grabbed our boards. I flipped my wet bangs over my head and to the side, watching him, taking in every crease and curve of his body showing through the wetsuit. God, how I loved that body. And fuck, I was pretty damn sure I loved the man inside that body. I sighed. But today, when I looked at him, it only hurt.
“How serious is this conversation? Should we get out of these wetsuits?” He stepped to me, his wet hair dripping around his face.
“Yeah, might be a good idea.” I sat in the damp sand and removed my gloves, tether, and booties, then stood back up and waited for him to do the same. Maybe I shouldn’t say anything. Maybe I could tell him we had to hide our relationship in public instead. No, that would be lying. I couldn’t lie to him again. It wasn’t fair.
He stood, eyeing me. “Ash, you’re scaring me.”
I attempted to smile at him and squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry.”
He gnawed at his lower lip. “Okay, now I’m really scared.”
“Let’s just get out of these wetsuits.” I walked to the Jeep, pulled on the cord on the back of the wetsuit and slid out of it, then threw it along with my board through the back window of the Jeep and waited for him. How fucking hard was this going to be?
He slipped off the wetsuit and handed it to me, then pushed his board through the back window of the Jeep, over mine.
Opening the tailgate of the Jeep, I rummaged in my backpack for my towel. After drying myself, I slipped a long-sleeve t-shirt over my head. My gaze found his, skimming a black t-shirt over his head. Damn it, why was he getting changed so fast?
He stepped toward me. “So?”
“Take your towel. Let’s go sit on the beach.” With a knot rolling in my stomach, I grabbed my towel, shut the door on the Jeep, and strode over the sand with him following. I really didn’t want to do this. This was a mistake. I sighed. But I had to. Like Wells said, Micah deserved to have a choice. Fuck.
He threw his towel on the sand, straightened it, then sat down with his knees drawn up and his arms resting across them. “Okay, so talk.”
I laid my towel down and dropped in with my legs crossed in front of me. Taking a deep inhale, I fixated on the waves, tumbling one after the other. “I spoke to my manager, Jeff, about us.” I did it. There was no going back now.
He clenched his teeth, rocking once. “Okay.”
“There’s something I have to ask you first.” I peeked at him, drawing all the strength I could.
He dropped his forehead to his arms. “What?”
“Was the suicide in any of the papers or on the news?” Faint trembling started in my hands. Wells was right. I was in over my head.
“No, it wasn’t. There was no reason to and his family didn’t want it publicized.” He gazed at me, crinkling his forehead. “Why are you asking me that?”
I swallowed hard, building my strength once again, then cleared my throat. “That’s actually better, then.” I forced a smile at him. “Being with me could be...” I took a ragged breath. “Shit, Micah, it could expose your personal life.” Holding my breath, I gauged his reaction and wrapped my arms around myself. Definitely no going back now.
“Like how?” His eyes grew glassy. “You mean like a tabloid story or something?”
I released a sharp laugh, the kind that comes instead of falling apart. “I don’t think I’m famous enough to be in a tabloid.” I swallowed a fresh wave of nausea. This was it. “I have to figure out if I want to come out with our relationship formally, or if I want to keep it secret and risk having it come out anyway, probably through people posting about us enough times on social media. Either way, the media will want to know about you. They’ll ask who you are and what you do, all that. They might find out about the suicide and then they might ask me, or you, about it.” No lies, just the stark, horrible truth of the life I’d worked so hard for. Fuck.
Micah gasped, his breath hitching. “Shit, no.” He flicked his gaze toward the ocean and blinked. A tear rolled down his cheek. “That can’t happen. It can’t.”
“I’m sorry, Micah.” God, I didn’t want him to cry. I didn’t want to be the one hurting him again. I attempted to wrap an arm around his shoulders.
He shoved me away. “Stop, Ash. Someone could be watching us now.” He darted his gaze around the beach.
“It’s not like we’re in a place where anyone is going to notice us now,” I said, trying to sound steady. “It’s more like if we wanted to go to a club together, or if you were backstage with me at a gig and an interviewer saw us. They might do some investigating and ask about it or just write about it.” More horrible truth. I fisted my hands. “It happened to me already, once. I was doing an interview for a music magazine, and the interviewer asked me about my brother’s death. He had details. It wrecked me for a while.” Pain lodged in my chest. This wasn’t going well, the understatement of the century, but at least this time I was being honest. “There’s one more thing.” I drew a deep inhale, my strength fading fast. “I had to tell Jeff about what happened.”
“What?” His glare cut through me, his wet eyes sharp and furious. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He edged away, slapping his hands out on the sand behind him. “Why the fuck would you do that?”
“Micah, I had to tell him. He needs to know, so he can plan. Just in case.” As the pain swirled inside me, it left me hollow. All my strength vanished. My vision blurred. “I had to tell him.” My breath hitched. “Micah, please, don’t push me away.” Hot tears tumbled down my cheeks as I reached for him, craving the feel of his body against mine.
He shook his head, scurrying farther away. “I-I’m sorry, Ash. I-I have to think about this.” He stood, looking around like he was searching for an escape.
I rose too, swiping my eyes. I didn’t have to be with him in public. I’d hide part of my life away if it meant I could have him in private. “Micah, if we’re careful and hide the fact that we’re together, and it wasn’t reported, then we can probably keep it buried. No one will have to know.”
“But if it gets out anyway that we’re in a relationship, and they want to know more about me, then how can we possibly keep it buried?” He twisted away, lifting his hands to his face, and let out a sob. “I’m sorry, Ash. I don’t know if I can handle this.”
“Fuck.” I stepped to him and wrapped him up, squeezing him to me.
He kept his arms straight at his sides.
“You can handle this. I’ll be right there with you.” I buried my face in his neck, the ache filling every part of me. Tears fell down my cheeks. “I’m sure Jeff can figure out a way around anyone ever knowing about Matthew.” My voice cracked. “I can’t lose you because of this.”
He sniffled, his voice soft. “I need some time. I have to think about it.”
I freed him and wiped my face. “Okay.” At least he would consider not ending it.
He gazed at me with wet eyes. “I never thought about any of that when I asked you if you wanted to come out in your professional life. I never even considered it.” He took a rough inhale. “Take me home and let me think about this. Okay?”
Maybe it would be okay. Maybe he would come around. “S-so we can still be together?” I grabbed his hand and squeezed, desperate for some kind of reassurance.
He stared at me for a long moment, then hung his head. “I don’t think so.”
The world spun around me. The ache in my body grew so intense it felt like it was swallowing me whole. I bit back a fresh round of tears. “Okay then.” He wanted to go home. I needed to take him there, but I was damned if I could move. I released his hand, every part of me screaming not to, and forced myself to walk back to the Jeep in a daze. As I got in, I wiped my face. Why wouldn’t these tears stop?
He tossed the towels into the back of the Jeep and climbed in, keeping his gaze fixed out the passenger window.
I started the Jeep and pulled out of the parking lot, heading toward our apartments. The whole drive, I swiped at my face and sniffled, the ache gnawing at me like a dog chewing a steak bone. How was he not doing the same?
Don’t look at him. If I do, I’ll fucking lose it. I kept my focus on the road, gripping the wheel tighter with each passing second.
* * *
I stepped up the walkway to our apartments, Micah behind me. We each carried a surfboard under one arm and a backpack in the other hand. As I reached my door, I stopped and stole a peek at him.
“I’ll see you later,” he said, his voice flat as he faced his door.
While staring at my doorknob, my voice came out broken. “When?”
“I don’t know.” His breath hitched. “I need time to think.”
“Okay.” A flood of nerves swirled inside me and my vision narrowed. How long would I have to wait for a definitive answer? I fought the urge to reach for him, to grab him and demand an answer now. But I took a deep breath, opened my door, and stepped inside.
Wells stretched out on the couch, a bowl of oatmeal balanced on his lap. “Ash?”
I closed the door, propped the surfboard against the wall, dropped my backpack to the floor, and fell to my knees. Covering my face with my hands, I wept. I’d done it. I’d told Micah. The worst had happened. Which one was our last kiss? I’ll never have another night with him. Fuck, this hurt so much.
“Oh, shit.” He dropped the oatmeal on the coffee table and rushed to me. “Damn it, what the hell happened?” He placed a warm hand on my back.
In a voice I barely recognized as my own, I said, “I told Micah what Jeff said. I think we just broke up.” The words felt hollow, like they belonged to someone else. I lifted my head to peer at Wells, hot tears tumbling down my face. “We’d barely even started.”
“Shit.” He grabbed my hands and hauled me to my feet, then pulled me into a tight hug, draping his arms over my shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Ash.”
I rested my head on his shoulder, clinging to his waist like it was the only thing keeping me upright. A wave of nausea rolled over me, momentarily drowning out the ache in my chest. “I feel sick.”
“Yeah.” He held me tighter. “Are you in love with him already?”
I nodded against his shoulder. “Maybe. It’s been such an emotional rollercoaster the last few weeks. I opened myself up to him.” Wells’ arms felt familiar, comforting even, but they weren’t the arms I needed. I needed Micah. “Why does this even have to be a thing? I hate this.”
“I know.” He released me and faced me, wiping the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs.
“When we wanted to hit it big with the band, we didn’t think about stuff like this,” I said, my voice trembling. I wiped at my face again, trying to keep it together. “I just want to live my life like a normal person. People should be happy with the music. They don’t have to know about our fucking lives.” Heat flared inside me, pushing back the tears for a moment. I huffed and stepped further into the apartment, letting the anger simmer beneath the surface.
Wells followed me inside. “I know. But it is what it is.” He sank onto the couch, grabbed his bowl of oatmeal, and took a bite. “So, you think you just broke up? You don’t know for sure?”
I ambled to the patio doors, my chest aching as though something heavy pressed against it. I rubbed at it, uselessly trying to ease the pain. “No. Micah said he needed some time to think that we’d see each other later. But he also said he didn’t think we could be together.” I turned to Wells, desperation in my voice. “That doesn’t sound good, right?”
“But it’s not the end. You didn’t actually break up,” he said, scooping another bite of oatmeal into his mouth. “You might be making more of this than there is.”
“You weren’t there. You didn’t see it. He didn’t want me to touch him.” The pain surged back, sharp and unrelenting. I gripped the fabric of my t-shirt over my chest, clinging to it like it could stop the ache. What had I done? I never should have talked to Jeff. I should have handled it like I always did, kept it casual, easy, with no expectations. But Micah wasn’t like anyone else. He was different. So damned different.
I focused outside the patio doors, watching the waves roll in like they always did, steady and unchanging. Then, a dark figure appeared on the walkway below. “Shit.”
Micah. He strode down the cement stairs, wearing a baseball cap with a black hooded sweatshirt pulled up over it, then jogged across the road and onto the path leading to the beach.
“Micah just went down to the beach,” I said, already twisting toward my bedroom. I snatched a sweatshirt from my closet and rushed back out, heading for the door.
Wells intercepted me in the hallway, grabbing my arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Down to the beach.” My frown deepened as I stared at the floor, my legs twitching to take flight.
“No, you’re not.” Wells tightened his grip on my arm.
“The hell I’m not,” I shot back, trying to wiggle free. He had no right to stop me.
“Ash, that’s not a good idea,” he said, his voice firm. He grabbed both of my arms just under the shoulders, forcing me to meet his gaze. “He said he needs to think. If you go down there right now, you might push him to actually break up with you. You understand?”
At least I’d have an answer. The thought of waiting, of sitting here doing nothing, tore me apart. I clenched my jaw and twisted my head away.
“Do you understand?” Wells swayed his head into my line of sight.
I glared at him, my voice tight. “Yes.”
“Good.” He let me go and took a step back. “Why don’t you get out of those wet shorts and let’s work on some music?”
Micah had inspired so much of the music I’d written. Every chord, every lyric, it all carried pieces of him, echoes of his voice, of his laugh. Trying to work on music now would only make the pain sharper. I grit my teeth, the weight of it pressing hard. “I don’t know if I can.”
“Well, then what can we do to get your mind off this and keep you from chasing after Micah?” Wells asked, running a hand through his long, black bangs, his usual calmness somehow grounding and infuriating at the same time.
I sighed. “I don’t know.” Nothing felt like it could help. Not even sleep. Sleep would just bring dreams, and dreams would bring Micah. My chest clenched at the memory of the dream I’d had on the second day here, the one that felt too vivid, too real. Was it a premonition? A lump formed in my throat.
Wells chuckled lightly, as if everything wasn’t crumbling around me. “How about day drinking? Or a movie?” He strolled to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and pulled out two beers. “I say day drinking and a movie.”
“Wells...” I slumped my shoulders, the fight draining from me. What else could I do? My heart wasn’t even mine anymore. It was fully in Micah’s hands, whether or not he wanted it. “Okay, let me change. But I shouldn’t drink too much.”
* * *
A few hours later, I lay curled on my bed in a sweatshirt and board shorts, clutching a pillow that still carried the faintest trace of Micah’s scent. The familiarity was both comforting and unbearable. I opened my eyes and rolled onto my back, sighing. The morning replayed itself in my head like an awful song stuck on repeat, and heartache trampled over me all over again. The corners of my eyes stung, and I rubbed them. Would this pain ever end?
“You okay?” Wells asked, propping himself up on his elbows beside me.
“Yeah.” My gaze drifted to the window, where early evening light filtered dimly through the fog. “That movie you picked was terrible.”
He laughed, the sound light but cutting through my mood. “I seem to remember you agreed to it.”
“I hate movies where the main characters die. You know that.” Like I needed to watch anyone else suffer right now. I turned my head to look at him.
“How am I supposed to know how the movie ends?” He raised his brows.
I scoffed and shook my head. “I don’t know.” Still, I wasn’t about to let him off the hook. I rolled onto my side, facing him. “The afternoon nap was nice, though.”
“Yeah, I needed that after drinking beer earlier.” He mirrored me, his gaze meeting mine. His voice softened. “How are you doing, though?”
I swallowed hard, fighting to keep the heartache from crushing me. “I’m fine, I think.” How was Micah doing with all this? Was he hurting as much as I was? My vision clouded, and I blinked a few times.
He skimmed his fingers over my cheek. “You don’t look fine.”
“All I can do is sit here and wait. It’s agonizing, actually.” Agonizing, excruciating, pretty much unbearable. I sucked on my lower lip.
“What will you do if he ends it?” He tucked his hand under his pillow.
“What can I do? I guess go back to normal. How things were. Move on.” How would it be to not have Micah in my life? A wave of pain rolled through my chest. Moving on would take a lot of time, a lot of beer, and a lot of tears. Maybe there was a song there...
“If that happens, do you want me to stay here with you? And not move into the house with Dilan and Justin?” He raised his brows, a hint of a smile on his lips.
My gaze searched his face. What would it feel like to have the benefits part of my relationship back with Wells? I wasn’t sure I could do that for a long while. “Maybe.”
He raised one side of his mouth. “If things were back to normal, I’d be kissing you right now.”
Rounding my eyes, I said, “Wells…” I laid my hand on his arm. “We can’t do that now.” I couldn’t do that now.
“I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t think about it.” He released a quick laugh, rolled over to the side of the bed, and sat up, dropping his legs over the edge. “It’s weird. You’ve never been with anyone seriously since we started hooking up.” He rested his elbows on his knees and put his face in his palms. “Remember the first time I kissed you?”
“Yeah.” I gazed at his back. “We were seniors in high school. It was after that homecoming gig.”
He chuckled. “You were surprised as fuck.”
“Well, how was I supposed to know you liked me that way?” I snuggled my face into the pillow, enjoying a little relief from the current situation.
“I was so afraid you were going to deck me.” He twisted on the bed to face me, resting his hand between us. “But you didn’t.”
I focused on his face, those large, blue eyes, and thought back to that night. He’d looked so scared in the dark hallway. But the kiss...damn. I hadn’t known kissing a guy could be such a turn on. “No, because I liked it.”
He shifted to lie on his side, resting on an elbow with one leg bent. “So, why didn’t we ever get serious?”
Knitting my brows, I toyed with the edge of the sheet. “I don’t know. I mean, we were young and stupid and thought we had to hide it. We didn’t know any better.” And apparently, he doesn’t let himself fall in love. He wasn’t stupid like me.
“Yeah, but the sleepovers sure were fun.” He snickered.
“And like, every damn weekend.” I rose to an elbow, smiling at him. “You wouldn’t leave me alone. I think if my mom ever found out what you were doing to me, she’d have kicked your ass out of the house forever.” Every first sex act I’d ever done with a guy was with him.
“Doing to you? Don’t act like you didn’t like it. You were just as bad.” He inched closer to me. “In fact, I remember you trying to do it with me in the boy’s bathroom at school when we were at the all-night graduation party.”
I scoffed. “Like you weren’t thinking about it already.” Good thing he stopped it. It would have been bad if we’d gotten caught.
“Of course I was. I was just smarter than you and knew better. We should have left early, like I wanted and stayed at your house.”
I breathed in deeply. “We should have done a lot of things.” Where would I be now if I’d forced him into something serious? Had I even wanted to? I looked him over and took his hand. “The way we are now, we’ll always have each other, right?”
“Of course. There’s no breaking up if you’re never actually together.” He gave me a half-smile, staring at the bed.
He was special, too, in his own way. I tightened my grip on his hand. “Thanks for always being there for me.”
He bit his lip. “Of course. You’re always there for me, too.” He lifted upright on the bed. “How about we get some dinner? I’m getting hungry.”
“Yeah, me, too.” He always knew how to make me feel better. I stepped off the bed, stood, and stretched. “Let’s go.” I headed for the front door, with him following, then snatched my keys from the table and opened the door. I stopped, my gaze searching Micah’s door. Pain flooded my chest. I took a step forward, reaching for the handle.
Wells seized my arm and shut the door behind us. “Come on, lock up and let’s go.”
With pain eating away at my heart, I locked the door and walked toward my Jeep. As I came to the covered stall, there was an empty spot where Micah’s Mercedes should have been. Where was he? Did he have anyone who could make him feel better? I stopped and scanned the parking lot.
“Ash. Let’s go.” Wells grasped the Jeep’s passenger-side door handle. “Quit looking for him.”
“Yeah.” He was right. I had to give Micah space. I climbed in the driver’s side.
“Where are we going?” He shut the Jeep door.
“There’s a good taproom down by the beach where we surf. Let’s go there.” I started the Jeep and backed out.