“There’s nothing like those courting days when everything’s fresh and new, but life gets in the way sometimes, you know?” I nod in automatic response.
“Don’t let it,” he voices, his tone resolute.
“What?” I’m not following him.
“It’s not what, it’s ‘pardon,’” he scolds at me. “Don’t let life get in the way. You only get one chance at life. One chance at real love, or if you’re lucky, maybe two. But from the look on your face, lad, it’ll be the once, and if you let life get in the way, you won’t have a life. Yes, you’ll live, but that’s not a life; that’s an existence. A life is full of love, warmth.” He stands up. “An existence is just that, existing to live from one day to the next, with nothing to warm you in the coldest of days. I should know.” He leaves, hacking his way down the street.
I stare after him, amazed by the old man who wasn’t intimidated by my size, tats, or piercings. His words hit hard because what I’m doing is exactly that, existing. Could he see that? As I stare at the back of the tramp walking further away, I feel calmer, like the conflict inside subsides with each step he takes. Shaking my head at his audacity, I stand up and head off back to the coffee shop.
Walking through the door, I sense the eyes of everyone on me, but ignore them and relax back at the table. Bear eyes me with curiosity, my sudden calm as much as shock to him as it is to me. Layla’s face is flushed, probably in anger at me.
“Where are we up to?” My composed tone doesn’t give away any of my earlier turmoil.
“Have you worked it out yet?” Layla asks.
I rock back in my chair and let my head loll backwards, eyes staring at the ceiling as I run through Layla’s information from earlier again. I sit forward and the chair’s legs give a satisfying thud as they connect with the floor again.
“If I’ve got this straight, you’re telling me Lizzie left because she had no other choice. You’re also saying if she’d have just told me, I probably could have protected her from whatever it was which drove her to push me away.”
“Stating the obvious, but keep going,” she urges.
I think a minute more, running over the information one more time. “You said she was coming home, so whatever it was that made her leave has changed.” She nods at me. “Are you telling me that bastard dying meant she could come home?” I begin to snort like a raging bull again.
“I’m not telling you anything; you’re working it out.” Layla smiles at me.
Glaring at her, I replay the information over and over again in my head. But I’m coming up blank. I’m missing something important, but also know there’s no way she’s going to give it to me. As much as it frustrates me, it’s nice to know Lizzie’s choice in friends is solid. Layla has her back. That much is clear.
Layla stares out the window in silence. As I’m watching her, it’s impossible not to notice her eyes widen, and her hand moves to cover a choked gasp, which struggles from her throat. Before what I assume is relief flashes through them. As I turn, my eyes flash past Bear’s unconcerned but watchful face and towards the window.
I stand up abruptly and my chair flies back and crashes down behind me. Bear jumps from his seat in automatic response to my posture and glances around for something he can’t see.
My response is feral. I bend down and move right into Layla’s face. She must have known.
“You think this is fucking funny.” I spit the words at her. Anger seeps from every inch of my body. She backs away as much as her chair will allow, panic clearly present in her eyes.
Bear grabs hold of my arm to pull me back from her, but I shrug him off.
“Fuck off.” The sound echoes around the now silent coffee shop. I glance around at the customers watching me, and then back out the window.
Lizzie.
“Noah, calm down. What are you doing?” Concern laces through Bear’s anger.
“I’m fucking leaving,” I grind out.
I’ve been played.
I crash out the door and onto the street and straight into a body. My arms wrap around it instinctively. Warm, sun-heated shoulders greet my fingers, setting them on fire. Each breath I take is assaulted with a scent I know all too well. The combination sends tremors through my body.
This can’t be happening.
Blinded by the haze of anger, I’ve barged straight into the cause of it. Her face is down and covered by strands of wavy, caramel hair, yet I know it’s her without even seeing it. She’s as frozen as I am.
I fight my body to let her go as my fingers release her shoulders, and the spell holding us prisoner breaks. Yet the few steps I take to back away from her are still like fighting quicksand. Her head lifts, and the hair falls away from her face.
Fuck me if she isn’t the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. It’s been years since the last time I laid eyes on her, and in that time everything and nothing has changed.
Her eyes widen. I know it’s shock. I know every look that has ever crossed her beautiful fucking face. They’re etched into my memory. Hieroglyphs on stone less permanent. But I don’t understand it. She knew I’d be here.
“How… Um…” She flounders for something to say, but I don’t want to hold a conversation. I need to get far away, but the tip of her tongue grazes her bottom lip and nails me to the spot.
“Noah?” My name on her lips strikes through my heart, and spurs me to move.
Layla rushes past me and engulfs Lizzie in her arms. “Lizzie. Thank God you’re all right. Where have you been?”
Lizzie returns Layla’s embrace, but her gaze never leaves mine as she responds with something I can’t hear. The only sound in my head is white noise mixed with the rush of blood coursing through my ears.
“Mate?” Bear’s voice bursts into the noise in my head. My eye contact with Lizzie breaks as I turn towards him.
A hand grasps at my elbow and the contact sends electric pulses shooting across my skin. My head whips back around and I glare at her. If I don’t get away soon I’m going to do something stupid. Like hold her. Beg her to be mine.
Her bottom lip trembles and her storm-filled eyes glint at me as she pulls her hand away. And because I’m a bastard I finish her off. “I wish I could say it was a pleasure to see you, but we both know that’s not true.”
Her sharp intake of breath crucifies me. Bear’s hand clasps hard on my shoulder. “Time to leave.”
“Mate, I left years ago.”
BASTILLE BLARES ON the radio while I work underneath an old Dodge Charger, which came in this morning. My mind’s taunting me like it has for the past twenty-four hours. Endless movie reels of Lizzie play through my imagination. The feel of her skin beneath my touch, her storm grey eyes, and no matter how loud the music, I can’t block it out.
I reach out from under the car to pick up a socket wrench, and movement catches my eye outside in the car park. I strain my neck to see what it is, but decide it’s a fucking hallucination, or it’s the movie in my head playing tricks on me. I’d assume I was still a little wasted from last night, but it’s three in the afternoon.
She’s got some balls, I’ll give her that.
Lizzie’s caramel hair is tied back in a loose ponytail, a few strands framing her beautiful face. As I watch her swaying hips as she walks in, my pulse quickens and blood pounds through my ears, rushing through my shrivelled heart. Every inch of me goes on high alert as I slide out from under the car and get to my feet. I slowly wipe the grease off my trembling hands with an oily rag, and then shove them into my pockets so she can’t see the effect she’s having on me.
She stops just inside the workshop door. The flecks in her stormy eyes sparkle in the sunshine. She just stands there. Her eyes widen a fraction then rake over my bare chest. I took my shirt off earlier, because the summer heat in the workshop is unbearable, and I feel more naked than if I were standing with my cock out. I don’t know why she’s here. She’s not even saying anything.