First Love: A Superbundle Boxed Set of Seven New Adult Romances (169 page)

Unable or unwilling to fight the both of them, I let myself get caught in the current of Hurricane Chelsea and blown toward the house. I still haven’t said anything, and as Chelsea steps out of her mud-caked high heels, I feel like I should. “Hey, Chelsea?”

“Huh?” She cranes her neck up toward me while remaining bent over unbuckling the strap around her ankle.

“Thanks,” I whisper.

“Don’t mention it. And if it’s any consolation, Axel looks even more fucked in the head over this whole hot mess than you do.” Free of her shoes, Chelsea drags me into the kitchen and pulls a bottle of wine off the rack on the counter. She doesn’t ask, she just pours and then hands me the full glass. “Drink.”

Maybe it should be a consolation, considering he is the one who walked away, but hearing that he’s hurting as much as I am thrusts a pang of agony right into my already bruised heart. The problem is: I can’t just call him or go to him, because no matter how this hurts, I’m still not sure if I can trust him. Hearing that he hired someone to look into me burns just as much as the wine I’m gulping, and I don’t know how to move past that. The trust issue, that is. The cure for the wine burning is to drink more wine until I no longer feel it.

By the time Chelsea and Lexi leave a few hours and several glasses of wine later, I feel a little better. Lexi bitched about her ex, Chelsea told us dating horror-stories she’s heard while working at the bar, and I managed to survive most of the day without crying. The three of us worked together to muck out the stalls and made quick—though not necessarily efficient—work of it. Had anyone been watching, they probably would have gotten quite the kick out of my tipsy ass trying to shovel shit. Lexi and Chelsea both had to drive home, so they stayed sober, and they each did twice as many stalls as I did.
 

I never would have pegged Chelsea as the type to muck stalls, but each time her and I meet, I realize there’s a lot I don’t know about her. We made plans to go riding together later in the week, and I’m looking forward to it. I haven’t had a group of girlfriends in so long it’s embarrassing, but it’s my own damn fault.

Thinking about my friends at the cafe in Tucson has me staring longingly at my phone. Spending the afternoon with Chelsea and Lexi was nice, but I’m still alone and it still sucks. I’m not sure if it’s the distance, the loneliness or the wine, but something has given me courage and there’s a call I need to make.

Johanna and I were going to be roommates in the dorms if I hadn’t moved in with Nick, and we worked together at the cafe. She’s actually the one who got me the job there, and she pushed hard when I started showing up later and later. I didn’t have much choice because I couldn’t leave the house until Nick let me, but I couldn’t exactly tell her that.
 

She tried to convince me to leave him and told me I would always have a place with her and a friend, but being my friend was dangerous for her, so I pushed her away and refused her help. Had I taken her up on her numerous offers, Nick would have hurt us both. Seeing how easily Chelsea and Lexi accept me has left me craving the friendships I once had, and it is way past time for me to try to make amends.

Someone unfamiliar answers Johanna’s number on the second ring, speaking in a hushed, feminine tone. “Hello?”

“Oh, um, sorry. I was looking for Johanna Rennert.”

“Of course, dear, this is her mother. Johanna is still asleep.” The woman sounds tired, as if she has had a distinct lack of sleep.

I look at my watch. It should be around five p.m. in Tucson, so why is Jo sleeping? “Is everything okay, Mrs. Rennert?”

“I assumed you were one of her friends and that you’d know. Johanna was attacked at Thanks-a-Latte Cafe, and she’s in a coma.”

I manage to mumble an apology and goodbye before I hang up and run to the toilet to be sick. It’s Nick; I know it is. When he couldn’t find me, he tried to get information out of her. I should have known he’d remember we’d been friends, and when my mom told me someone was attacked at the cafe, it didn’t even dawn on me that it might be related to me. I’m such an awful friend.

Heaving into the toilet for hours offers me nothing but awful stomach cramps and a gnawing sense of guilt. I wish I could call Arion and tell him how much I need him right now, but I can’t bring myself to do it. It wouldn’t be fair to him, because nothing has really changed, except I’m even more afraid.

Thirty Nine

Angel

Doing barn work the next morning is pure, utter torture. And not because I’ve developed a sudden aversion to the smell of manure or anything. My stomach is still twisted into guilt-soaked knots. All I can think about is Johanna, and how her condition is my fault. Lexi tries to make small talk for a while, but I can’t even feign interest and eventually she falls silent, which of course makes me feel even guiltier.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her as I unload my pitchfork into the trailer stationed in the center of the aisle. One of the things that I like most about Chadwell Farm is the focus on efficiency. At a barn I used to ride at when I was a kid, they took individual wheelbarrows from stall to stall, dumping it frequently. It worked, but that’s exactly what it was:
 
a lot of work. Here, they hitch a long, low, plastic-lined trailer to a small tractor and drive it right through the center aisle. Then they pull it to the back of the property where they empty it onto the large pile that gets taken away once a month. I don’t mind mucking stalls, but I’m thrilled not to have to fight with stubborn wheelbarrows. “I heard last night that a friend of mine from back home was seriously injured, and I’m really worried about her.”

Sympathy makes Lexi’s eyes crinkle as she leans against the handle of her pitchfork. “Aww, Angel, that sucks. It must be hard to be so far away from home.”

Even Molly looks sympathetic as she watches with big, bored eyes from her perch on the seat of the tractor. Last night, Molly slept curled up under my chin, and she’s quickly becoming my constant companion.

It is hard, at least at times like this. It’s also hard never hearing my own name, but each day I become a little more Angel and little less Tess. Even if it’s more like Fallen-Angel. “Have you always lived here?”

“Yup, I’ve lived just down the road my entire life. But I’m going away to college next year, so I can relate to the nervousness. At least a bit.”

I remember being excited about college. Once. And then I threw it away by dating Nick. It still baffles me that one poor choice with him snowballed throughout my entire life, destroying not just me but even my friends in the process. “What are you going to study?”

“Equine Science.” She says it like it’s a ‘duh’ answer, and I guess it sort of is. “Hey, you should email your friend one of those e-cards to cheer her up. Might make you feel better, too, you never know.” She leans her pitchfork against the side of the stall and works a thick strand of hair back into her ponytail then wipes the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. It’s sweltering and sticky this morning, and I don’t know about her but I can’t wait to get back into the house and take a cool shower.

That’s actually a really great idea, but I have no idea how to access the Internet here. “Is there a wireless signal in the house, do you know?”

“Yup, the alarm actually runs off of it. The passcode is by the phone with the emergency numbers.”

I’m feeling a tiny ray of hope when I head back to the main house with Molly at my heels. She wines outside the bathroom door while I take my shower and follows me into the kitchen when I brew myself an iced coffee. Her big eyes do me in, and I toss her a treat before heading upstairs to Arion’s room. I know he put me in the guest room, and I probably should have stayed in there, but I couldn’t. It’s almost like, by helping myself to his room, I’m admitting on some small level that I still think of myself as his girlfriend. I haven’t totally given up. Not really.

Arion’s bedroom is a unique blend of little boy and grown man. A stuffed animal perches abandoned but watchful on a window seat flanked by plaid curtains while the small bookshelf beside his desk has an eclectic mix of everything from
Harry Potter
to Dr. Seuss
to books that look more like doorstoppers. There’s a pack of condoms shoved in the top desk drawer, right next to an old decoder ring that looks like it came from a Happy Meal. I smile, thinking about the contrast of a boy’s protection versus that of a man.

It takes no time at all to boot up the laptop Arion bought me and to plug in the passcode. As tempting as it is, I don’t check my email. Nick is the only one who matters who would have tried emailing me, and I don’t want to hear anything he has to say.

Instead, I begin searching for news stories about Johanna, and it doesn’t take long to find one.

ASU Student Attacked Walking Back to Campus from Thanks-A-Latte Cafe

The article doesn’t say much, but it shows Johanna’s high school portrait photo and her exuberant smile reaches out to me through the page, forcing me to remember how carefree she and I used to be. According to the article, the police are working under the theory that it was a domestic dispute rather than a mugging because her purse was left behind. Her mother was quoted as saying her daughter wasn’t dating anyone and urging anyone with information to contact the police. Just beneath Mrs. Rennert’s quote, Office Lopez was quoted as saying they are investigating all leads, that they will leave no stone unturned in their search for the person responsible for this senseless violence, and that he is committed to not giving up.
 

A buzzing begins in my ears as I try to swallow back a fresh wave of nausea, knowing the person responsible is me. I wonder if he specifically requested her case, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one who attacked her in the first place. I dig a little further online and finally find the original article that mentions the incident, and sure enough, Officer Victor Lopez is listed as the first on scene.

Knowing he’s involved doesn’t do me any good, it just confirms what I already suspected, but I still don’t know what to do about it so I’m just as lost as before. My phone lies beside the laptop, and it’s all I can do to not call Arion. I just want to hear his voice in my ear, telling me everything is going to be all right. Except it isn’t all right, and I can’t see how it ever will be.

Molly lays at my feet with her head on her paws, and she lets out a low whine, as if telling me to quit being a chicken-shit. I tell myself I’m just trying to appease the dog, and decide to log into WarQuest, hoping he will be online.

Welcome to WarQuest! Message of the day: All servers will be down for maintenance on Wednesday, July 16th for a scheduled update.

Angel has come online.

I punch a button on my keyboard, bringing up my friends list to quickly scan who is and isn’t online. Arion’s name is grayed out, unavailable.

“Are you happy now, Molly? I tried.”

Molly lifts her head and turns a baleful eye in my direction.

I’m taking orders from a dog. A pint-sized dog, no less. I shake my head at my own preposterousness and turn my attention back to the screen. My chat window has filled with messages.

Deedeespriest whispers: Angel! Is that actually u?

Alyanya tells the guild: Hi Angel!

Graundel tells the guild: Heya Angel, long time no see.

LeeroyJenks tells the guild: Angel! WB hon.

I’m not sure if a welcome back is actually in order, but I’m here for the moment at least.
 
I have to admit the thrum of excitement is building, and I wonder what it would be like to play again. I’d be flat-out lying if I said I didn’t miss it. It’s been ages since I’ve played, but my fingers remember most of the commands through muscle-memory and it won’t take me long to figure out the things I’m sure have changed.
 

I take a deep breath then start typing.

You tell the guild: Hey everyone, thanks =) Not sure if I’m actually back or just visiting, but I’ve missed you all.

You whisper to Deedeespriest: Yup, it’s me.
 

There’s a brief pause, and then two messages come across, but only one stops my heart.

Deedeespriest whispers: wow, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you online I thought maybe you sold the account.

LeeroyJenks tells the guild: You just missed Arion. He said he was going to move some stuff between toons, then be back in a minute. We were going to put together a group and run a dungeon. Want to come?

My heart is pounding, and my mouth goes dry, realizing that I just missed him but more importantly that he will be back online soon. Should I log off or wait? I’m still debating when the notification enters chat.

Arion has come online.

If I log off now, he’ll know I saw him, and I might push him even further away. I contemplate remaining quiet in chat and just seeing if he notices me or trying to play it cool. Like I’m unaffected. No big deal. Just another day.

Oh, fuck it.

You whisper to Arion: Hi.

I’m immediately kicking myself. ‘Hi.’ How stupid does that sound? After everything there has been between us, I say ‘hi.’ Arion hasn’t answered yet, and I’m getting antsy. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk to me. Maybe I’ve screwed things up too much.

You tell the guild: Thanks but no thanks, I don’t think I’m going to be on long, and I’m too rusty to try a group yet.

A group invite pops up in the center of my screen, and my first reaction is,
Do they not understand ‘no’?
Then I realize it’s from Arion, and I hit accept.

You tell the group: I thought you were going to go do a dungeon with Leeroy and them?

Arion tells the group: I’d rather spend time with you, even if this is all we have. Unless you don’t want to talk.

You tell the group: No!

Crap, that came out wrong. He’s going to think I was saying I don’t want to. I hurry to type more.

You tell the group: I do. I miss you.

Arion tells the group: I miss you too. So much. How did we let things get such a mess?