Page 2 of If You Never Come Back
I try for a minute, but judging by my racing heartbeat, the sweat beading at the back of my neck, the burn in my eyes, it’s an utter fail.
It’s not all Garret’s fault. The shit-show conversation was all him, but the reason I stand here barely able to keep myself from sobbing on a public street corner is completely on me. I don’t know why I thought Valentine’s Day would ever be normal again. I should have just stayed home in my pajamas, binged Netflix, and eaten three cartons of Haagen Dazs. Going for a drink at this bar on this night, where one year ago my world turned upside down, was the worst idea I’ve had in a long time.
Hot tears freeze against my cheeks as the frigid wind whips against me. This day will never, ever be normal again. It will never be anything other than a taunting reminder of my worst heartbreak.
A warm whoosh of air hits the backs of my legs as the door to the bar swings open behind me. Quickly, I wipe my face dry with the back of my mitten-covered hand. The last thing I need tonight is a pitying look from a passing stranger. But there are no footsteps behind me like I expect. Just the nearby downtown street noise of car honks and snow slushing against tires.
There is a single breath though. One sharp inhale, then a throat clearing. Then my name, spoken by the one person I never, ever thought I’d hear from again.
“Shay?”
I know it’s him without even having to turn around and look. The low, whispered tone he employs is so different from how he used to say my name, but I still recognize it. I’d remember that rasp anywhere.
“Wes?”
I almost don’t believe my eyes when I spin around to look at him. It’s been six months since I’ve laid eyes on him, six months since we’ve uttered a word to each other. No phone calls, no texts, no form of contact between us for more than one hundred and eighty days. But that sure as hell is him.
That mass of thick brown hair, that smooth tan skin, those earthy brown eyes. The only thing different is his facial hair. What was once the sexiest five o’clock shadow in the universe is now a well-groomed beard.
And his body…damn, that body. Even thick winter clothing can’t mar his killer physique. He’s still the proud owner of thickly muscled legs and a broad chest. All that traveling must have kept him in killer shape—
Emotion grips me by the throat, and I blink. Drooling over Wes’s exquisite body is not allowed. A handful of silent seconds passes, and I’m not tearing up anymore. In fact, all moisture has left my body. My throat is so dry that when I try to speak, I fall into a hacking fit.
He takes a step toward me, but I shake my head. Holding up my hands is my only defense. He gets the message loud and clear because he stays away. I let out a breath, relieved. If he touches me, I might fall to the ground. Or punch him. Hard to say, given how he left things. How he left me.
I whip out my phone and pull up a rideshare app. My apartment is just over a mile away; I could walk. But I need to retreat. Immediately. I can’t endure one more minute in Wes’s presence, especially after that god-awful date. If I stand here any longer than I have to, there’s no telling what I’ll do. A car ride home is the fastest way—the best way to protect myself.
I swipe my finger across the screen. The next available car is due to arrive in one minute.
“Shay, are you okay?”
His brows knit together, and my stomach does a backflip. Raw concern paints his face. Everything from the frown lines on his forehead to the purse of his lips conveys that it hurts him to see me like this. Six months ago, I would have handed over one of my organs for that look to flash across his face. That look that says he wants me and nothing else.
Instead, my body reacts differently now. I’m armed with a dry throat and unblinking eyes, struggling to process the fact that Wes Paulsen is standing twelve inches from me.
The phantom taste of tequila hits my tongue. It’s spiced oak and smoke and the faintest hint of caramel.
No tequila.
The silent command inside my head is useless. The flavor still dances on my tongue. It was his drink, then mine, then ours. And when he left, it was all I could taste.
It’s all I can taste right now.
I sink my teeth into my tongue, letting up just before I draw blood. Now all I taste is fire and acid. No more tequila. Not ever again.
The gray sedan that is my ride pulls up to the curb. For three seconds, I stand between the car and Wes, my eyes darting back and forth between them as if I’m a lost dog who can’t remember which one is my rightful guardian.
Wes tugs at the hem of his coat. It’s the same black puffer coat he wore the night I met him, a year ago today, in this bar.
“I just…can we talk?” He takes a single step toward me.
The invisible dam inside me breaks. Every word he said the night he left comes flooding back.
I snap out of my haze, blinking back the tears begging to fall down my cheeks. “Stay away from me, Wes.”
I jump into the car, slamming the door behind me. I don’t turn around to look at him. I don’t even peek at the side view mirror to catch a farewell glimpse. I just stare straight ahead, my vision blurry from all the tears.
Chapter One
