Chapter 3
Javi, Present
I lose him right as he passes the front door.
Standing in the doorway, I let the night air cool my skin as I relive the moment.
He just always has to make me mad, doesn’t he? He has to fuck with me.
It wasn’t always like this.
One day we were good. More than good. Declan was my best friend.
Don’t get me wrong. Grant is my best friend too. But it’s not quite the same. I can’t share everything with him like I can with Declan.
Well… could share with him. Until he decided he was done and threw it all away in the most spectacular way. It’s hard to imagine he’s still the same person who used to be such a comfort to me.
Sometimes, I think back to our time by the creek. The whistling of the wind. The trickling of the water. The sun shining through the trees. The irises blooming by the creekbed.
It was peaceful. It was a home. Not actually. But it had that feeling of home.
Until he blew all that up. And now, he can’t fucking leave me alone. He just has to push me.
It won’t stop replaying in my mind’s eye. His lips pressed against Landon’s.
It makes my skin heat. It makes me feel sick. Disgusted. Enraged. And soon, older images start filtering through. All the ones I try to push away.
“Yo, Morales.”
My mood plummets from bad to worse when I look over and see Carter Hayes walking up the stone steps and through the open front door.
He flips his stupid blond hair as his eyes meet mine. The cool green color irritating me.
Carter was a big deal at King’s Heart—second to Grant, of course—but still, no one crossed him.
His dad is the CEO of Buildman Construction Co.
—an active and well-liked company within the community that donates a ton of money to the school.
So he already had standing before even stepping through the doors, but on top of that, he was one of the stars of the football team.
And a perfect scholar. Perfect almost everything.
Everyone either wanted him or wanted to be him. I wanted both.
He was my sexual awakening.
Kind of.
We have history.
It wasn’t love. But it was something intense. Something that changed my life.
It didn’t end well. And that’s a fucking understatement.
I’m sure I look scowly, so I try to fix my face into something more neutral as he leans in for a half bro hug.
I don’t miss the way his fingers slide down my back as he pulls away, or the way his eyes take a lazy perusal up my body until they land on my face.
“Hey, Hayes. What’re you doing in town, man?”
He smirks. A slight uptick of his lips. “Just a little break from classes.”
He was a senior last year, graduating and going to some other prestigious school a few states away.
I give him a short nod in response. I’d really like this conversation to be over soon. Why are we even pretending? “You liking it?”
He considers my question. Tilting his head and dragging his thumb against his bottom lip. Never looking away from me. “It’s different. I’m not the top dog anymore. But, there’s no shortage of ass. So how much can I really complain?”
I realize—probably too late—that my face unfixed itself. There’s a definite frown there now. He notices too, but it makes him smile.
He leans in close. “Are you still mad, Javi?”
I could fix my face again. Go back to pretending.
But I’ve had a drink or two and I don’t want to fucking pretend that I have anything to say to him.
“Gotta go, man.”
I push past him, making sure to check his shoulder as I go. I hear the distinct sound of his amused chuckle as I make my way deeper into the house, trying to find Declan.
I’ve been here a few times before—only during these parties. Grant never wanted me in this house otherwise. He was very weird about keeping people away from here unless they were trashing it.
So, I have a slight idea of where I’m going, but I could probably easily get lost.
I walk through a sitting room, passing all the couples grinding with each other on the sofas and chairs, then walk down a long hallway until I reach an open archway that leads to what looks like a library.
And there he is. The man who ruined everything for me. Who ruined me. Discarded me.
He’s facing the shelves and thumbing through one of the many leatherbound books that decorate the room, unaware that I’ve entered the space.
I stay perfectly still, much like a hunter circling their prey. The slightest sound or disturbance will send him running again, so I only allow silent breaths and slight movement of my diaphragm.
I raise my foot to take one step toward him. It slices through the air without a sound, but there’s a slight crunching of the carpet under my step. So quiet. Barely perceptible.
He hears.
His head jerks to the side, looking at me through his peripheral vision.
We stay still. I can see his muscles tense. Readying to escape. To run away.
He moves, and I’ll give it to him, he’s quick. But I’m always quicker.
I stop him, grabbing onto his shoulders and pushing him into the shelves.
My hands burn as we stand there. I get the urge to move them. To get away from how his skin is searing me.
My eyes move instead, looking down at him and charting a map. His blue liner, sparkling and slightly smeared from all the dancing he was doing. His pale skin popping through the black mesh of his shirt, hugging tightly to his lithe figure.
“Munequito.”
Shit.
Fuck.
I shouldn’t have said that. I started calling him that so long ago. But then after it all went downhill, it turned into an insult. Something to mock him with.
Right now it’s different. It didn’t feel like an insult.
I feel something. Just like that first night. When he was just helping me, but it turned into something I didn’t expect.
The swoop in my belly. The tightening of my chest.
I look at his eyes. They’re wide. The gray color shimmering under the low lighting.
My hands coast up his neck to rest on his flushed cheeks while his chest heaves under my forearms. But he’s still stiff. Refusing to let go and melt with me.
The air is charged with the past. Nostalgia and better times. I’m not sure I can resist its pull.
There’s a moment where he gives in. It’s small. Leaning with the slightest extra pressure into my hands.
My eyes fall to his lips, quickly mesmerized by the pink sheen. Strawberry flavored. I remember.
More nostalgia. But with that, come all the memories. All the hurt. The pain. The betrayal.
“Why did you do it?” I ask quietly.
He knows what I’m talking about. I can see it in the way he furrows his brow. The way he narrows his eyes at me.
He jerks his face out of my hold before leaning in close. “Fuck off, Javi.”
And then he stomps away.