Chapter 21
It only took a couple hours to arrange to be out of town for the weekend. Shi, being the amazing person they were, agreed to cover my shifts. I expertly dodged their questions about what was wrong and if I was okay, managing to end the call without giving too much away.
I heard Hannah talking softly to Carlos in the other room while I packed a small bag. I’d have to shop for food, so I could always buy anything I forgot.
By that evening, I was pestering Hannah with last-minute questions. I was haunted by the memories of what happened last time I left her alone in my house, but Hannah wasn’t fazed at all. Kian had brought her supplies to stay for a few days and after he left for work, she changed into a pair of fuzzy pajamas and curled up on the couch, Carlos under her legs and a book in her lap. He’d hardly moved from his spot the entire day.
I paused with my hand on the doorknob, rethinking this whole thing. “This feels like a really bad idea,” I said. “Maybe I should stay. I can hang out at home for the weekend.”
“Absolutely not.” Hannah set her book down and rose from the co uch, charging across the room. She flung the front door open, admitting a particularly bitter gust of wind. She all but shoved me out the door. “Go!”
“You’ll call if you need anything?”
“Of course I will. If you don’t leave right this second…”
“Okay, okay. I’m going.” I stepped forward to give her a hug and press a kiss to her hair. Under her relentless stare, I made my way to my car. Hannah didn’t close the front door until I was out of the driveway.
An hour later, I swear the only song saved to my phone was “Must Have Never Met You,” and I was listening to it for about the tenth time. I cursed and slammed my palm against the steering wheel. Well, if Luke Combs was that determined for me to hear it, then I guess it was time to feel the suck.
Too bad that came with blurry vision. I made it to a red light and pressed my fingertips into my eyes, willing the burning to stop. I still had a long drive ahead of me; I’d never make it if I gave into the tightness in my chest.
Okay, fine—the drive wasn’t that long. But when I already felt like jumping out of my skin, another half hour felt like forever. I’d never been the best at sitting still for long periods of time, much less when I felt like a piece of my heart was missing.
The farther I drove, the worse the ache became. I had to work hard for each breath. Each exit I passed, my hand itched to hit the signal and turn back to Salem. I rubbed my chest, but it was pointless. I had a niggling feeling in the back of my mind about what that stupid organ wanted, and that thought only fueled my fire to keep going—if only to prove a point.
I hadn’t been to Cape Cod since I was a kid. Mom and Dad kept a small beach house for those rare occasions when Florida was too perfect and they needed a reminder of how wet and gloomy New England could be. Truthfully, I wanted to go farther. I was seconds away from booking a flight to Vegas, but with the way I ached to turn around with only an hour’s difference between me and James, I wasn’t sure I’d survive such a distance.
The cold was relentless. The closer I got to the Cape and the open water, the more frigid it became. Still, I cracked my window to get a taste of the fresh ocean air. The temperature inside the car plummeted, but I was too stubborn to acknowledge it.
Finally reaching my exit, I stopped at the light and rested my head back against the seat, growling when my bundle of curls prevented me from relaxing. I yanked at the hair tie containing them, tears pricking my eyes again when my hair only got more tangled.
My plan was to head straight into town for groceries, but the knot in my hair was the final straw. I wasn’t about to suffer insubordination from my own goddamn hair; it needed to go—immediately. I drove down the deserted roads on the outskirts of town until I reached my family’s beach house.
It had been decades since I’d seen it, but the navy shutters and pale gray shale siding looked exactly how I remembered. I swallowed against the tightness in my throat, stopping at the breaker to make sure the house had power. It would no doubt be colder inside than out until the heater got going, but I’d tolerate it for as long as possible.
At the simple act of opening the front door, nostalgia swept away the hollow feeling in my heart. When the heating hummed to life, I made my way to the kitchen. It didn’t take much rummaging through the drawers to find what I wanted: scissors.
I flipped the lights on as I moved down the hall to the bathroom. Though I didn’t need them; I knew this house like the back of my hand, and in all the years I’d been gone, it hadn’t changed a bit. Sure, appliances had been updated—and since my mom couldn’t leave things alone for very long, the decor had been switched up more than once over the years.
I didn’t overthink what I was doing. I cut the hair tie out, not caring that a chunk of my hair came with it. In fact, it felt good . So I kept going. If a lock of hair brushed my shoulders at all, I deemed it too long and chopped it. Piece after piece dropped to the floor, hair littering the sink and counter in front of me. When I finally finished and set the scissors down, I felt like I could take a complete breath again. I sighed, running my hand through the shortened strands and looking in the mirror.
And it looked… horrible. I could only laugh at myself. I wasn’t sure what I expected to see, but the hack job seemed like another metaphor for my life at the moment. It needed to be fixed, so I set out in search of a broom to clean up my mess. A rumble from my stomach reminded me that I needed to stock some groceries as well.
Leaving the house to heat up, I pulled on my jacket and drove into town. Most of the touristy shops were closed for the off season, but I passed an open barber shop, laughing at the sign in the window.
“ We fix home haircuts. ”
The man inside jumped out of his skin when I stepped through the door. But when his eyes took in my handiwork, he chuckled. “Oh, dear.”
“Come on. It can’t be that bad.”
The corner of his mouth quirked into a grin. “I’ve definitely fixed worse.” He stood from his seat and offered me his spot. “Breakup?”
I winced, the ache in my chest deepening. “Something like that.”
The barber laughed, then sprayed my neck with cold water from his spray bottle, making me flinch. “How much more length did you want taken off?”
“As much as it takes to fix it without those ,” I said, indicating the clippers on the station in front of me.
“No buzzing,” he muttered. “Obviously.”
After that, he worked in silence. As shears cut away hair that pattered against the cape around my shoulders, I closed my eyes. It was the only thing that kept the burning at bay. Despite loving my long hair, I had to admit that I felt better when he was finished. Though the cold wind on my neck was something I could have gone without.
By the time I loaded up on groceries—by which I meant junk food that had no nutritional value whatsoever but certified mood lifters—and made my way back to the house, it was nearly dark. I busied myself by putting everything away, then I stood in the middle of the living room like a fool. I usually felt lost after running from my problems, but I’d never been stuck, alone, with nothing more than the consequences of my own actions to keep me company.
Logically, I knew that it would only take one phone call to fix everything, but I wasn’t ready for what that phone call would mean for my future. I still needed to work through the feelings thrashing around inside my head. The last couple of months had been a whirlwind. In a matter of weeks, I’d gone from thinking that whatever James and I had was completely casual to realizing it was something more, and then discovering that I was in love with the man. It felt like I’d been moving at a hundred miles an hour and slammed into a concrete wall. And now I was surveying the damage.
I knew I was in too deep. There was no way out for me now. I’d had my chance to run from it, and I’d chosen to stay.
Then I realized I didn’t want to run from it—and that scared me even more.
I perched on the edge of the couch, flipping my phone around in my hands. Sitting there by myself, I felt silly. All I had to do was say those three stupid little words to James, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was bonded to the man, for fuck’s sake. Even without the bond, I knew he felt the same about me. I didn’t need to worry that he wouldn’t say it in return. Still, my stomach churned at the thought.
Fed up with my own thoughts, I scrolled through the contacts in my phone and pressed one.
The line picked up after one ring. “What’s wrong?”
Damn it . I smiled fondly. I should have known better than to expect I’d get a word in before she started her interrogation. “Good to hear your voice, Mom.”
She cleared her throat, a sign that she was calling me on my bullshit. I could practically picture her standing in front of me, one hand on her hip, brow crooked. The last time I called her out of the blue, I told her I had a seventeen-year-old kid.
I sighed. “I’m seeing someone.”
“And did they hurt you?”
“What? No!”
“Are they horrible to you? Did they do something wrong?”
“No, Mom!”
“Then why do you sound like your puppy just died?” I heard her suck in sharply. “Did something happen to Carlos?”
“Carlos is fine.” I groaned. “I don’t…”
“Okay.” In the background, her TV show paused—the show she watched whenever my dad was out of the house because he couldn’t stand it. “What’s going on, Ryder?”
“Nothing,” I said again, with a shrug she couldn’t see. “It’s literally nothing. James is great. He’s been nothing but incredible to me since we met.”
“James? Your boss, James?”
“Yeah, that’d be the one.” I chuckled. “Things are, uh, getting serious.”
“And that scares you. ”
“Have you been talking to Hannah?” I let out a relieved sigh. At least I wouldn’t have to be the one to say it.
“I’m guessing you haven’t told him.”
“I don’t know how,” I said, my throat tight.
“Ryder, you said your first word when you were eleven months old and you haven’t shut up since. Don’t tell me you don’t know how to talk.”
I swallowed hard, the ache in my chest intensifying. “What if it bites me in the ass?”
“It might,” Mom said dryly. “But that’s a risk you take when it comes to love.”
Bile rose in my throat at the sound of the word.
“Are you scared he won’t say it back?”
“No. I know he will, but?—”
“That doesn’t make it any easier.”
“It really doesn’t.”
Rustling hit my ears as Mom adjusted her position. “I wish I could tell you something that would make it easier, but I’m afraid venting to Mom won’t help you there.”
“Then what will?” I asked, already knowing her answer.
“Telling him.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
“Because you know it’s the right thing to do. And the right thing isn’t always the easy thing.”
I cocked a brow. “Did Raleigh tell you to say that?”
“I would think the fact that I had no idea about this man in your life proves I haven’t spoken to Raleigh in ages.”
I snickered. She was right about that too. She and Raleigh were scary close—much to my dismay. Though the conversation I had with him a few weeks ago about this whole “mate” thing was eerily similar to the one I was having now. Mom’s voice pulled me out of my spiral.
“You’ve never been an overthinker, honey. Don’t start now. ”
I took a calming breath. “I’ll try. Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re welcome. Call him, and I’m going to finish my show before your dad gets home and gripes until I turn it off.”
I laughed, we said we loved each other, and I hung up the call. See? I was more than capable of saying the words. So why was it so damn hard to say them to a man who would easily give his life for me?
Instead of calling James, I set my phone on the coffee table and grabbed my jacket. I knew I’d regret it, but I needed to move, and the beach house was too small for the energy buzzing through my body.
Leaving my phone behind, I headed for the beach.