Chapter 17 – “The Black Dog” - Taylor Swift
ELENA
“THE BLACK DOG” - TAYLOR SWIFT
AGE TWENTY-FIVE – SEPTEMBER
“Hey, Rosebud.”
The voice, smooth as butter, grates on my ears like I’m a block of cheese. An all-too-familiar hand slides a copy of my latest release across the table in front of me, like he’s just another reader in line for a signature.
I lift my head, clashing against depthless brown eyes I used to think I’d never find my way out of.
He’s rougher than he was the last time I saw him—calluses on his hands that weren’t there before, a deep, golden tan from being outdoors for days on end.
He’s got a few days’ worth of patchy scruff shadowing his jaw—he’s never been good at growing a beard.
“You’re home,” I say flatly.
“I just landed in San Diego. Everett said you were doing a signing down here, so I thought I’d stop by before I head back to my parents’ house.”
Someone in line behind him clears their throat, and I quickly grab the book, scribbling down the first personalization that comes to mind:
For: Asshole
xoxo,
I add my Violet Rose signature and slide it back, knowing he’ll probably toss it in the trash on his way out. “As in-character as it is for you to show up at one of my signings and expect my undivided attention, I’m here for my readers. I don’t have time to do this right now.”
Zach’s expression turns crestfallen. “I just wanted to stop by and see you in action. I think it’s cool to see how loved you are, Ele—Violet.” He takes the signed book, clutching it to his chest. “Do you think you could find some time for us to talk?”
I glance around the bookstore, eyeing the parking lot beyond its doors. “This signing is done in an hour.” I nod toward the sports bar across the street. “If you wait for me there, I’ll stop by before I head home.”
He smiles hopefully. “Should I have a Dirty Shirley ready for you?”
“I hold zero embarrassment for my alcoholic beverages of choice, Zachary,” I mutter, turning to the reader behind him in line. He laughs as he strolls away, and because some old habits are impossible to kill, I can’t stop the way my lips tilt up at the sound.
An hour and a half later—because I’m a liar and wanted to see if he’d actually wait—I stroll into a building labeled Sharkies expecting it to be void of childhood loves.
Instead, I’m greeted by the sight of Zach sitting at the bar, worn boots propped up on the stool, and my dark, taboo mafia romance book in his hand. He’s so focused on the pages, he doesn’t notice when I sit down next to him.
“Have you fallen in love with Dimitri yet?” I ask, referencing my main male character.
Zach’s head snaps up, a surprised smile on his face.
“I thought you bailed, but I was enjoying it so much, I figured I’d hang out for a while just in case.
” He shuts the book and slides my drink toward me.
Most of the ice has melted by now, condensation dripping from the glass like the trepidation cascading down the tightly locked walls around my heart.
“Dimitri is very dreamy.” Zach laughs. “Are you getting any real-life inspiration for the men in your books these days?”
Oh, okay, so we’re just going to jump into this conversation.
“No.” I scoff, taking a sip. “Believe it or not, it’s actually my imagination alone that inspires the characters I create.”
“Sorry.” He clears his throat. “That was a lame segue to ask if you’re with someone.”
“How about asking me how I’m doing, Zach? How about you ask me how many months I cried myself to sleep over you?” I slam my glass on the counter, turning to face him head-on. “Or, at the very least, why don’t you tell me if Wyoming was worth all of that? Was it everything you hoped it’d be?”
Zach refuses to meet my eyes, peeling the label off his beer bottle as he says, “Saying that would make me feel a lot less guilty if I knew you were happy now, too.”
I laugh, and all the pain I expect to rage against my chest doesn’t come. In fact, all I feel is relief. “I’m very happy.” I grab his arm, forcing him to lift his head and see my smile. “I really am.”
He exhales, placing his hand over mine and squeezing.
“Now, tell me how Wyoming really was.”
The biggest grin I’ve ever seen on him spreads across his cheeks.
“It was…incredible. The work was hard, and I was never not tired. The first few weeks were absolutely miserable, but once I realized waking up before dawn meant you never missed the sunrise, I actually started to get excited about it. Sitting out there, watching the sun come up over the mountains like that…” He continues, detailing every aspect of his life working on a cattle ranch.
I’ll be honest, not one bit of it sounds like a good time to me—except maybe the sunrise over the mountains, but I get ocean sunsets every single day. I’m not sure mucking horseshit or whatever the fuck else he had to do is worth that when all I have to do is look out my window.
“So, are you going back?” I ask once he finishes. The bartender moves to make me another drink, but I stop her. I need to head back to Pacific Shores and track down August before Zach does. I don’t think he told anyone he was coming home.
“I don’t think so. I loved it out there. It gave me everything I needed, helped me figure out who I want to be.” He shrugs. “But it wasn’t home. Pacific Shores is home.”
I nod, and those knots I thought I’d avoided earlier finally twist in my gut. If Zach is here to stay, I don’t know what that means for August and me. Sitting in front of him now, I feel nothing like I used to, outside of appreciation for his physical form.
I think I’ll always consider Zach my first love—he earned that title.
The all-consuming, burning, lose-your-mind kind of obsession between two young people exploring the concept of intimacy for the first time isn’t something to overlook or belittle.
Still, when I look back now, I realize, I’m not sure I was ever in love with him. No, I was infatuated.
I wasn’t able to tell the difference between the two until I experienced the real thing, and now that I’ve fallen for August, nothing else would ever measure up.
Regardless, the dynamic between the three of us will have consequences, and I don’t know what Zach staying in Pacific Shores is going to stir up.
“I’m heading out to my parents' place in Palm Springs for a couple of weeks to spend some time with them, recover and relax from the past year.” He drains the remainder of his beer. “Then, I’m going to move home and head back to school.”
“School?” I ask. “For what?”
“I want to be a teacher. A coach, too. I worked with some kids, giving horseback riding lessons my last few months out there, and I realized I’m really damn good with them.
Plus, playing sports always gave me a purpose, and I want to find that again.
” He smiles proudly. “I’m finally ready to get my life together.
Gonna work with the guys at the surf shop and offer lessons while I finish my degree. ”
I slide off the barstool, throwing my purse over my shoulder as I grasp Zach’s arm. “I’m proud of you. I’m glad you found what you were looking for out there.” I squeeze it gently before pulling back to head toward the door.
He catches my wrist quickly, forcing me to turn around. “My door’s still open for you, Elena.” Zach brushes his thumb across my skin. “I don’t expect anything, but I just want you to know that.”
I softly pull out of his grasp, offering a sorry smile. “I’m in someone else’s room now.”
I don’t wait to see his reaction before I turn around, heading out of the dark bar into the bright daylight.
AUGUST
“All right, just hear me out.” Zach walks a few steps ahead of me, between the alley of two residential roads in town that we have no ties to.
“I’ve been saving up damn near every penny I’ve made the last year, mostly for college, but…
” My brother stops in front of a two-story, Craftsman style house, turning to face me with a smile. “I bought us a house.”
“What?” I blink, all other words lost on me.
Zach has been staying with our parents in Palm Springs the last couple of weeks.
I drove out there this weekend to spend time with them, and Zach and I came back to Pacific Shores together.
I haven’t told him about Elena and me yet, although I know Elena told him she moved on and was with someone else now.
He asked me about it once. I told him it wasn’t my place to speak for her, and he hasn’t brought it up again since.
My plan was to tell Zach today and then race over to Elena’s apartment, get lost in her perfect fucking body, and beg her to move in with me. Because she’s my future. She has always been my future, and my brother has always been a fucking roadblock.
“ Us? ” I ask.
Zach laughs, nodding. “Yeah. I mean, I’ll cover the down payment, and Mom co-signed the home loan, but I bought it for both of us.”
“Zach.” I rub my forehead, despair funneling through my body. “I… I don’t know.”
“C’mon, I know you don’t want to live in that shitty studio above the shop.
This house is great!” He throws his arms out.
“It’s got plenty of space, a yard for kick-backs, and it even has a sunroom.
I was thinking you could turn it into an art studio since I know you still love to draw.
There is a den downstairs that would be the perfect little library for you.
Elena could use it, too.” He shrugs. “If she wants.”
Fuck me .
I have been staying in the studio space above my tattoo shop.
It works well enough, with space for a bed and a couch.
It doesn’t have a full kitchen, but all I really need is a microwave anyway.
The worst part is the lack of a shower, but it has a bathroom, so I’ve just been bathing at my parents’ house every day.
I didn’t look for a place upon my permanent move back to Pacific Shores because I was hoping Elena and I would find one together.
Zach steps up to me, placing his hands on my shoulders.
“We haven’t gotten to live together as adults, and I think we could have a lot of fun before we both settle down.
Plus, you’re the person I missed most while I was away.
I’m ready to plant roots in my hometown.
I may not have someone to plant them with yet, so in the meantime, I might as well spend as much time as possible with my favorite person. ”
I swallow, thorns of guilt sluicing through my veins and tearing my skin apart. Looking past my brother to the house behind him, I have no clue how I’m going to make it out of this with all our hearts intact. All I can seem to do right now is force a smile back. “Show me the inside.”