Chapter 1 #2
I've watched his shows, seen him on billboards, but the screen flattened him, made him safe.
In person, he takes up too much space, steals too much oxygen.
The scent of him—cologne and something woodsy—hits me, and memories flood back with such force I nearly stagger.
I remember the midnight rides on his bike, his arms around me as he taught me to throw a proper punch, the way he used to look at me like I was something precious.
Until he became famous, a rockstar, someone too good for the likes of me.
I hate how my body remembers him. Hate how, despite everything, something deep in my chest unfurls at the sight of him.
"Cat got your tongue?" He grins, dimple appearing in his left cheek, and I remember pressing my thumb to that exact spot once, wondering what it would be like to kiss him there.
I should slam the door in his face. I should tell him to go to hell.
Instead, I stand frozen, caught between the girl I was and the woman I've become, while Travis Phoenix walks back into my life like he never left it.
God damn it.
I don’t think I am ready for this.
“SORRY, DO I KNOW YOU?”
It’s meant to come out as sarcasm, but instead, it comes out as if I am snapping. Maybe I am. I don’t know how I feel in this moment, my mind is going a million miles an hour. My pulse hammers in my ears as he tilts his head. Great—now he’s laughing at me.
“Baby, you wound me,” he slaps a hand over his chest and pushes off the pole, immediately making me step back, as if getting too close might be dangerous.
Lord knows it probably is.
“Why are you here, Travis?” My words come out clipped and I try to keep it together, to act like I don’t care, but I do. I care so much it fucking burns.
He leans in, one eyebrow arching, grey eyes flickering with amusement and something darker. “Last time I checked, I lived around these parts.”
“Since when? Last time I checked, you up and left, not telling anyone where you were going and now you’re acting like you should just be welcomed back.”
“You’re full of fire, Mischief.”
I ignore him. “Why are you here?”
“Business,” he murmurs, then changes the subject. “You’re lookin’ mighty fine, Mischief. Never could picture you all grown up, but I’m certainly not disappointed.”
My stomach twists. I force a growl and turn away, heart spiking. Two minutes and he’s already burrowed under my skin.
“Are you going to invite me in, or is there a secret password?”
I meet his challenge with my best glare.
He laughs again, lips curving wickedly. “Come now, don’t be angry at me.”
I don’t get to answer, because the moment is cut short. “Travis!” Chief’s booming shout cuts through the tense silence. He comes down the stairs with a grin so wide it hurts. I mumble, half-protest, half-relief, and back up the steps.
He loves Travis like he is his own son.
Jaq appears behind him, and I immediately frown.
She hasn’t even bothered to get dressed properly, and she is grinning at Travis like he is meant to see her and fall to his knees.
She is wearing my father’s shirt and by the look of it, nothing else.
Her makeup is smudged, mascara coating her cheeks, and I don’t dare think about why.
“Ew,” I mutter.
Travis and Chief swivel to stare at me, as if they’re unsure if I actually just said that out loud.
I did.
I’m in a bad fucking mood.
“Sorry, dad, but shame on you,” I add, voice cold.
Then I turn and walk away.
Nobody says anything, and I am glad because I’m at breaking point and if they push me, I might just lose it.
I slip into my room, slam the door, and lean against it, trying to hush the frantic pounding in my chest. I convinced myself I’d never see him again—then here he is, as careless and magnetic as ever.
He covers everything with humor, and it fucking hurts me because he is acting like my pain doesn’t matter.
Like none of it ever mattered.
My fingers curl into a fist. I need to get out of this house.
I’m going for a swim. Thank everything my dad lives on the coast.
Twenty minutes later, I’m clean and dressed, descending into the living room where they’ve all gathered around with a few beers and a few extra bikers.
Heads snap up when I enter. I force a smile and keep my gaze deliberately low—until I catch his eyes.
His grin is slow. That gorgeous dimple pops. My breath sticks in my throat.
“I’m going for a swim,” I mutter.
“Alright, kid,” Chief says absently.
I head for the door, each beat of my heart echoing in my ears. Outside, the salty wind tugs at my hair as I cross the road to the beach. I remember the first time we swam together, me eight, him thirteen—he was tall and lean, sandy hair just darkening, those eyes steel-grey and kind.
“Mischief, you have to get in that water sometime,” he teases, splashing me with water as he stands, nearly waist deep, a grin on his face.
“It’s cold and salty,” I’d protest, huffing and crossing my arms. “I told you, I don’t want to swim.”
“Of course it’s salt, it’s the ocean. Trust me, it’s worth it. Get in. Just try it.”
“You can’t make me,” I threaten, crossing my arms.
He’d chase me, laughter rumbling as he scoops me up and flings me into the surf. I scream, thrash, tell him I’ll never forgive him and try to pummel him with my small fists. “I hate you, Travis Phoenix!” I holler between punches.
“You love me!” he laughs, splashing me again, the salt water burning my eyes.
I crack, my laughter echoing through the day. We run back up to the sand, waterlogged and breathless. “Trav,” I say, dropping down onto my towel. “One day when you’re famous, can you take me to those places where the huts go out into the middle of the crystal blue ocean.”
He chuckles. “Famous?”
“I’ve heard you singing in your room. You’re going to be famous one day.”
He snorts.
“Whatever you say, Mischief.”
“Do you promise?”
He nods, grinning. “Yeah, I promise.”
I’d believed him.
Now I cross the wet sand and step into the surf, only now, it doesn’t feel the same. Back then, I was just a kid who idolized him, who looked up to him, who saw him as someone who would always matter. Now, I’m a woman and the man before me, is someone I don’t know.
The cold hits my legs like jagged knives, it’s nearing winter and it’s freezing, but something about that makes it more satisfying. I dive under, fighting to keep my panic at bay. When I break the surface, gasping, the hole in my chest yanks wide open again.
Behind me, I hear the water swish and I spin around to see Travis standing at the water’s edge, sleeves rolled up, watching me with an expression I can’t quite read. He’s studying my face, as if he can read me like a book.
“Jesus, Mischief, you really do fuckin’ hate me. I can see it all over your face.”
I sit where the waves curl around me and stare at him. “Seriously? Are you honestly shocked?”
He crosses his arms. “Gotta say, didn’t think you’d look at me the way you’re lookin’ at me now.”
I shake my head, angrily. “You were my friend, and you left. You didn’t say goodbye. You just walked away and never told me why. How the fuck do you think that felt, Travis? Then I find out you’ve been in town, and you knew, you fucking knew I visited Chief and you hid like a fucking coward. Why?”
His eyes darken, just a touch. “Figured you weren’t ready to see me, didn’t realize it was this bad.”
What a fucking cop-out.
I shake my head, fighting the urge to scream and throw something at him.
“I’m sorry. Not everything is always the way you think.”
“Sorry isn’t enough.” Rage and grief collide in my throat. “You promised me that you were always going to be here, no matter what.”
His eyes flare. “I was too young to keep those kinds of promises.”
“Then you shouldn’t have made it,” I whisper, shaking my head.
He steps closer, sand crumbling under his feet. “It was real, everything.”
My chest tightens. “No, Travis. It wasn’t.”
“It was to me.”
“Funny way of showing it,” I snap, walking out of the water and shoving past him.
He spins, grabbing my arm and pulling me back, forcing me to stop. My heart skips a beat as I meet his eyes. “You know you mattered to me, Violet. Not a single fuckin’ day went by that I didn’t think about you.”
“Oh bullshit,” I jerk my arm out of his grip. “Your charm might work on every other woman, Travis Phoenix, but it is long ago lost on me.”
With that, I turn and walk away.
I don’t want to look back.
I can’t, because if I do, he’ll see just how much he broke me.
I won’t give him that satisfaction.