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Authors: Ashley Wilcox

BOOK: Permanent Lines
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I had to find Amelia. I had to find out why she left, why she wouldn’t explain. I
needed to know what stood between us. There was more. There was more to Amelia that
I needed to find out. I wanted to know everything about her. I needed her. I needed
Amelia in the worst possible way.

I smiled. Staring at the cactus in my hand before placing back on the counter, I smiled
the biggest, goddamn pussy grin ever. I was going to get my girl. I was going to find
her. I was going to find out what the hell happened and I was going to make her mine
again. I didn’t care what it fucking took, Amelia Driscoll was mine and I would make
damn sure that nothing ever changed that or stood in my way.

I took the quickest, most refreshing shower I’d taken in weeks, clarity now overwhelming
me. Only one thing was holding me back: Nova. She deserved an explanation, and I had
to tell her what happened last night. What happened between Amelia and I and what
was consuming everything in me. Nova deserved to know that it wasn’t her fault. I
knew how it felt to be left, to feel unwanted. I wouldn’t do that to Nova.

She answered on the third ring, right before it went to voicemail. I wouldn’t have
blamed her if that was where I went, but she answered and I was relieved for that.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Nova, it’s me, Merrick,” I greeted, trying to keep the pleasant, nonchalant
tone in my voice, but let’s be real, telling someone that you’re not interesting because
there’s someone else isn’t a fucking walk in the park. No matter if you’re a dude
or not, breaking up with a girl or telling her it’s not working out fucking sucked,
especially with chicks like Nova—there wasn’t really anything wrong with her, she
just wasn’t Amelia, and right now, and how it’s always been, Amelia was who I wanted,
who I needed. No one could compare to Amelia, even cool chicks like Nova.

“Hey.” There was no mistaking the awkwardness in her tone. She wasn’t looking forward
to this conversation anymore than I was.

I needed to just let it out, tear it off like a BandAid. “Listen, I’m sorry about
last night, I …”

“You don’t need to explain anything, Merrick. I get it.”

I sighed and ran my hand over my head. I guess Nova and I were more similar than I
thought. The truth hurt and we were afraid to hear it, so we avoided it instead. She
was doing exactly what I would’ve, defusing it, letting me out clean and avoiding
the truth of the matter. She didn’t want to hear the explanation, didn’t want to be
told why it wasn’t her I was interested in.

“I’m sorry, Nova. Really I am. You’re really cool, it was just bad timing.”

Dammit, I was sounding like a tool. I tilted my head back, disappointed with myself,
but also antsy. My knee was jumping, wanting to just get on with it and go find Amelia.

“Seriously, Merrick, I’ve got my own crap going on too. It would’ve never worked;
we weren’t all in with this dating thing.”

I looked at the phone with a little weight taken off my shoulders.
It just wasn’t me with shit … baggage.

“It’s always the exes,” I kidded, making her chuckle.

“Always dropping shit on our parade,” she added.

I smiled and nodded even though she couldn’t see me. She was dead on. Whenever I thought
I was moving on from Amelia, something would happen, pushing me right back to the
shit situation I was in before. Amelia shit on my parade more than once, but it still
didn’t matter.

“Yet we keep going back.”

“Yup,” she exhaled, slightly laughing as she did, “and we love them until the end.”

“Yup,” I agreed, “we definitely do.”

 

 

By the time I finally walked out of my building, it was already after noon. I didn’t
have a game plan, I was just going with my gut. Whatever I had to do to get Amelia,
I was willing to do. I started walking to the only place I knew she might be, the
art studio. I didn’t know if she would be there, but it was the only thing that came
to mind.

When I turned the corner where the building was, a rush of nervous excitement floored
my body—the inside lights were on! There was a bell on the door! I wasn’t very observant
last night, nor did I really want to be there, but the fuck I didn’t today. I never
wanted to be in an art studio more than I did right then. There was no one around
that I could see, but someone had to be there, so I just walked over to the pictures
hanging on the wall and looked at them while I waited. Even if it wasn’t Amelia that
was here, hopefully I would find out where she was. People that worked together knew
a bit about one another, so I’d find out something—any information about her would
be more than what I was currently working with.

Apparently luck was on my side today, because seconds later Amelia walked up front
from the back. Her expression was exactly what I was expecting, shocked, but what
came next was something I wasn’t expecting. Fear.

“Merrick!” she said in a low tone, worry filling her face as she looked around to
see if anyone else could see her talking to me.

Immediately my nerves shot up. Something was wrong and it wasn’t just me being there.
There was more, and I needed to know what. Was she in trouble? Was she in danger?
Was it just me she couldn’t be near or was it something bigger than that? I didn’t
have a fucking clue, but part of me just wanted to scoop her up and run away with
her regardless.

“You’ve got to go! You can’t be here,” she continued, not allowing me to speak.

“No!” I told her, not letting her push me towards the door anymore. I wasn’t losing
her. I wouldn’t walk away.

“Please, Merrick. Please, not here. Please go,” she pleaded, making my heart hurt.

I could see it all play out in her eyes. She was scared. It wasn’t that she didn’t
want me there, but that I couldn’t be there. I didn’t understand it. I didn’t want
to go, but I could see it in her eyes. I had to go, but I wasn’t going to let her
go. No, not this time. I wouldn’t leave before making plans of when I could see her
again.

“I need to see you, Amelia.” I let her keep guiding me towards the door. I would go,
but not just yet. “Please.”

She looked over her shoulder towards the door she’d just come from, the frightened
look still alive and apparent on her face. I wanted to break from her hold and find
out what was behind that door that made her so worried and scared. My heart was breaking
in two watching her eyes shift, panicked, from me to the door. I needed to protect
her. I hated that she looked scared. This wasn’t the Amelia that I knew, that I spent
a weekend with. She didn’t have the smile on her face that made me weak. She wasn’t
giggling like she did when I tickled her sides or made her laugh. There was something
seriously wrong, and I needed to know what.

“What’s going on?” I held both of her shoulders squared to me. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Tears filled her eyes as she swallowed back the knot that was visibly forming in her
throat. She shook her head weakly. “You have to go.” Her voice was edged with emotion.
“I’ll stop in the bar tonight. Just …”

A tear fell down her cheek. I wiped it with my thumb, making her face nestle into
my touch. I couldn’t help sighing.

“Just not here,” she insisted, looking over her shoulder again and then back to me.
“Please.”

It took everything in me to agree, to not force through those doors and kill whatever
motherfucker was back there. I had to trust her. What happened between us was still
fresh; I couldn’t just be the Bavarian caveman that I apparently was. I wanted to
bang on my chest and protect my woman, but I had to keep my control. It was apparent
that I was a danger to Amelia while here, and putting her in danger was the last thing
I ever wanted to do. So I agreed, leaning over and kissing her cheek first. I could
feel her body go limp, making my hand find the bottom of her back to hold her close
and supported.

“I love you,” I whispered into her ear. I wasn’t planning on telling her that right
then, but the words fell naturally off of my tongue. I needed her to know that I did,
that I cared for her that much. Maybe it would ease her worry. “I’ll see you later.”

When I stepped back, the tears were streaming down her face, making my exit even harder.
I looked at her one last time, taking a step towards her instead of back. She shook
her head, visually telling me that I couldn’t—I had to go. I felt like I might break
down, fall to my knees, and cry at her feet. I was so afraid to leave her that it
took everything in me to turn my back to her, to leave her … I didn’t know what was
going on, but Amelia was a hardass. To see her in the way I was, pleading and tearful,
was a red flag. I knew that I had to listen and trust her. I had to go. This time
I
had to leave
her.

When I got outside the door and stood on the sidewalk, I looked back one last time
at the girl that would always hold my heart. She was still standing there watching,
mouthing, “Thank you,” from the inside. The pain of leaving her was something I had
never experienced, almost worse than when I woke up without her. I stood there a moment
longer, but she turned and started for the door in the back. I saw her hands go up
to her face, clearing the makeup from under her eyes, it looked like. She was pulling
herself together before facing the music.

The music that I knew nothing about.

I may have made it out the door, but I couldn’t make it off the sidewalk. I stood
there and watched, even after she disappeared. I didn’t know what I was waiting for
or expecting to see, but I stood there. Nothing could make me move at the moment.
I’d pity the fucker that tried.

 

 

The sun was beginning to drop when I decided I could go. No one came or went, the
studio remaining empty (at least from my point of view) for the hours I stood there.
My back ached and my head hurt from the constant clench of my jaw. None of it made
sense to me, nor did having a studio that barely got any (none while I was standing
there) customers during the day. Granted, it was a Monday and she held those painting
classes at night, but I wouldn’t think that that would be enough money to keep a New
York City business lucrative. I knew better than anyone else how much it cost for
one to remain profitable or even afloat, for that matter. From the outside looking
in, it didn’t make sense, but then again, not much with Amelia and I did.

 

 

 

The last thing I wanted to do was run the bar, and seriously the only thing that made
me turn the sign to “open” was the fact that Amelia said she would stop in tonight.
It was the longest fucking night of my life. By midnight I made myself reason with
the fact that she wasn’t coming, that I believed her when I shouldn’t have. I should’ve
stayed. I shouldn’t have walked away from her earlier. I was beating myself up, pacing
the length of the bar for the 17
th
time, scrubbing as I went, when the door opened and I saw her beautiful, captivating
self.

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