Page 28 of Never Have I Ever

I should duck out of here and put some separation between us, move on with my life in a different direction from him. I don’t always make the wisest of choices. I take a step forward, wondering if I’m making a mistake by exposing a part of me that I keep hidden from most. Yes, that’s probably best, so I flip the script, aiming the spotlight in his direction. “I saw it on your chest earlier.”

“Did you think I’d have it removed?” His gaze trails to the floor, and I see the slightest shake of his head. “I kept it because it’s a symbol now.”

I cling to every syllable because this is the closest I’ve gotten to an explanation for my tattoo. “What does it symbolize?”

“The brokenhearted.”

“The brokenhearted?” I’ve never once thought it meant anything other than a greatness in life—a promotion, an accomplishment, even a romantic notion. But with the absence of what truly happened those two days in Austin, I suppose I’ll have to take his word for it. “I’ve never heard anything sadder in my life.”

“I have.” Hearing the certainty in his tone has me believing he has.

“I’m sorry.” I suddenly feel foolish standing so far from him in the middle of a conversation, but I’m sure it’s inappropriate for me to be here. So I suppose I need to take my own advice and let him have his night back.

I turn, this time opening the door. He says nothing, so I leave without another word. He’s right about one thing. It’s freezing tonight—he and the weather. It makes me wonder if he ever warms up to anybody or if it’s the particular hatred he holds especially for me.

Wrapping my arms around my chest, I hurry through the wind and trees. The lake catches my attention briefly, but it’s too cold out to admire. I hate the fear that zips through me from being alone out here. I felt safe in the main house even though there was tension.

After locking the door, I double-check the thermostat to make sure the heat is in fact on. It’s warm in here, but it’s good to make sure. Looks good, so I go about getting ready for bed. My phone is charged, so I send a message to Marina that I’m back on the property. I don’t expect a reply since it’s late, but I know she’ll appreciate knowing I’m safe in the morning.

With the lamp on, I climb under the covers fully dressed because the chill from the main house still lingers in my veins. I’m not sure why he’s gotten under my skin, but I can’t seem to stop replaying everything that happened tonight in my head. “What is it about him?” I mumble to myself.

I don’t know him, but an urge inside me wants to. His eyes are piercing to the point of boring a hole into my chest as if he wants my soul to pay for the damages I caused him.

Opening my phone again, I pull up the email with the contract and scan it for any personal information about him. The lamp flickers, causing me to glance at the side table, and then it goes black.

My phone is a torch in the outage. I’m so glad I charged it.

But then I realize it’s not about my phone. It’s about the heating system. “Oh no.” I flip the covers up and set my feet on the cool wooden floors. As soon as I shine my phone light on the thermostat, a banging on the doors startles me into next week.

“Oh my God.” My heart thunders in my chest, my fears surfacing, though I know it’s going to be him outside and not a maniac. Well, not the murdering kind.

“Hello?” I call with the door closed.

“It’s me.”

If only he’d said his name. No such luck. I’ll still try to get it out of him, though. I crack the door open, not wanting to let the cold air outside sneak in. “Me who?”

He shifts with his hands in his pockets, never looking as charming as he does right now. When his eyes land on mine, he asks, “Do you really not remember my name?”

10

Laird

“I’m sorry.”

That’s the last thing I wanted to hear her say.

An apology doesn’t really make up for being forgotten altogether. I just wish we had been on the same page. If I’d known she really didn’t think twice about me, I wouldn’t have kept her hanging around my thoughts, wondering what happened.

I could have moved on with my life instead of living in the memories of the best night of it. It’s a lot to digest.

Years wasted.

The door is wide open, the cold night breezing into the tiny space. Although it’s dark inside and out, I can see her pretty face. My chest still tightens like the defector it is.

She shivers but reaches out. “Are you okay?”

Backing away from her, I step off the small porch and glance down at my boots. I didn’t bother with the laces or even have time to put on underwear. When we lost power, only one thing crossed my mind. Her. “I should have left well enough alone,” I reply.

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