Chapter 13
thirteen
Lizzy’s reaction when she sees me hits me hard. All I can do is watch in stunned silence as she turns and walks away, disappearing through the back door, her ponytail swinging furiously behind her.
“What the hell was that about?” Logan asks, brow furrowed in confusion.
I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant even as my heart hammers painfully against my ribs.
Her friends exchange knowing looks before they rush after her, leaving me standing awkwardly with my best friend who has no idea how thoroughly I betrayed his trust all those years ago.
“Jesus, man, I’m sorry,” Logan says, pulling me aside. “I didn’t think she’d react like that.”
I scrub a hand over my face. “It’s fine. Not your fault.”
He frowns, looking toward the back door where Lizzy just disappeared. “I don’t get it. I mean, I know you two didn’t really get along back in high school, but it’s been fifteen years.”
If only he knew the truth.
Before he can press any further, a big guy with a floppy brown mohawk and tattoos comes over and claps him on the shoulder. “You gonna introduce us or what?”
“Oh, right.” Logan gestures between us. “Jax, this is Rowan Cole, my best friend since forever. Rowan, this is Jax Riley, one of the owners of Skin & Ink Tattoo. This is his girlfriend Sasha’s party.”
“Nice to meet you, man,” Jax grins, extending his hand. “Logan’s told us a lot about you. I dig your movies.”
“Thanks.”
Jax turns, grabbing the attention of the other two men who are sitting on the couch. “Yo, Ryder! Carter! Come meet our celebrity guest.”
A big guy with both arms sleeved in tattoos strolls over. “Hey, man. Ryder Blackwood. Heard you might be filming around here soon.”
“That’s the plan,” I reply, accepting his firm handshake.
“Oh, and this is Carter,” Logan says, waving at a guy with artfully tousled dark blond hair.
He’s got to be in his late twenties, with just enough stubble to look effortlessly cool.
The kind of hipster vibe that probably has women falling at his feet.
“He’s the new apprentice working under Lizzy at the shop. ”
Working under Lizzy. The phrase sends an unexpected jolt of possessiveness through my veins as I shake Carter’s hand, squeezing a little bit harder than necessary.
“Nice to meet you,” I nod, fighting the sudden urge to ask exactly what “working under” actually means. I smirk to myself when Carter’s eyes go wide in surprise.
“You wanna drink?” Jax offers, gesturing toward the kitchen.
“God, yes,” I mutter-sigh, following him and Logan into the kitchen.
For the next hour, I try to relax and enjoy myself, but my mind keeps wandering to Lizzy and what she might be talking to her friends about.
The look on her face, like she’d seen a ghost, keeps replaying over and over in my head.
And the flash of hurt in those stunning green eyes before anger took over?
Fuck. I shouldn’t have called her Sunshine, but the nickname slipped out before I even knew what I was saying.
I can’t help glancing toward the back door every few minutes, hoping to catch sight of Lizzy coming back inside.
Jesus Christ. I wasn’t prepared for what seeing her would do to me.
I’ve seen a few photos of her over the years, but those images did nothing to prepare me for the real thing.
The memories I had of Lizzy in my head were still of her as a teenager with hints of the woman she’d become.
The Lizzy I just saw? Pure fucking fantasy come to life.
When she walked in wearing that tight blue tank top, my brain short-circuited.
Her body has filled out in all the ways that make my mouth water.
Curvy hips flaring perfectly from a narrow waist. Breasts practically straining to pop out from her top.
I had to force myself not to stare. It irked me when I realized I was gawking at her like some perverted teenager getting his first look at a Playboy centerfold.
And those tattoos... Fuck. Me. Vibrant, colorful ink covering both arms in intricate designs I couldn’t fully make out in the brief moment before she bolted.
All I know is they suit her—wild, beautiful and completely captivating.
And that silver-hoop lip ring hugging the middle of her full bottom lip?
Holy fuck.
I’m more than desperate to suck it between my lips. Not to mention how it would feel sliding over the length of my cock.
“You okay, man?” Logan’s question instantly yanks me out of my sexual haze. “You look like you’re about to crush that beer bottle,” he says, eyebrow raised as he jerks his chin.
Loosening my death grip on the glass bottle, I take a long pull, hoping the cold liquid will stamp out the heat rushing through my veins. “Yeah.”
“Liar,” he chuckles. “You’re eyeing the back door like you’re trying to Jedi mind trick it open.”
“I’m just...” I shake my head, unsure how to explain the mess of emotions I’m feeling without revealing too much. “I didn’t expect…”
Logan shrugs. “You know she’s always been pretty stubborn about holding onto grudges. Remember when I accidentally broke her favorite Megadeath CD in eighth grade? She wouldn’t speak to me for two weeks.”
I nod, knowing this is much different. What happened between Lizzy and me goes way beyond some broken CD.
“Maybe I should go?” I suggest, setting my empty bottle on the counter. “This is your friends’ party. It’s not like I was invited.”
“No way,” Logan says firmly. “You’re with me, so you’re invited. We’re not leaving yet. Lizzy will come around. She always does.”
Not this time, I think to myself.
“Listen,” he continues. “The girls will calm her down. Give her some space and she’ll be back.”
Space. Right. That’s exactly what I’ve been giving her for the past fifteen years, and look where that’s gotten us.
Before I can respond, his phone buzzes. He checks the screen and frowns.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, it’s just work,” he sighs, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.
“There’s not a fire, is there?”
“Nope. We’re good.”
Another half hour passes with no sign of the women returning. The conversation flows easily enough between me and the guys, but I can’t seem to shake the feeling that Logan bringing me here has ruined Sasha’s party.
“We should head out,” I suggest. It’s clear the girls aren’t coming back anytime soon. “Early day tomorrow.”
Logan glances at his watch and nods. “Yeah, probably a good idea.”
We say our goodbyes, promising to catch up with the guys again before I leave.
The ride back to Logan’s is quiet, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I stare out the window as we pass through downtown Lakeside, the streetlights casting periodic shadows across the dashboard. My mind keeps replaying Lizzy’s reaction on a loop—the shock, the anger, and beneath it all, the hurt.
Back at the apartment, Logan mumbles something about an early shift and disappears into his bedroom, leaving me alone.
Streetlights filter through the blinds, casting striped shadows across the ceiling as I stretch out on the couch in the dark. My chest feels tight with the weight of everything I haven’t told Logan as I sling an arm across my eyes.
Fifteen fucking years since I walked away from Lizzy without a word. And now here I am, lying to my best friend about why his sister can’t stand the sight of me.
“You’re such a dick,” I sigh to myself.
The truth is, I knew coming back to Lakeside would up the chances of running into her. I just didn’t expect it to happen on my first night here, with zero warning.
I roll onto my side and punch the pillow. Two more days and then I can escape back to California. The thought brings a small measure of relief. Once I’m back in L.A., I’ll be able to breathe, put some distance between me and the past again.
But it’ll only be temporary. I’ll be back in a couple of months to start filming, and for a hell of a lot longer than a weekend. Three months of being in the same town as Lizzy. Three months of potentially running into her at every turn.
Stubble scratches my palms as I scrub a hand over my face. Maybe by the time I get back, she’ll have calmed down. Maybe the shock of seeing me will have worn off, and we can at least be civil to each other.
At least I’ll be busy with filming. Long days on set, endless meetings with the crew. I’ll barely have time to breathe, let alone cross paths with her. Maybe we can both just... continue to pretend nothing ever happened?
My phone buzzes on the coffee table. Snatching it up, I squint at the bright screen.
HANK
Any progress on finding a girlfriend?
I groan, tossing the phone back onto the table. That’s the last thing I want to think about right now.
The apartment is quiet except for Logan’s soft snoring coming from his bedroom. I stare up at the shadows dancing across the ceiling, memories washing over me as I drift off to sleep, dreaming about the past.