Page 49 of Reckless Roses
“I want to be a teacher. A coach, too. I worked with some kids, giving horseback riding lessons my last few months out there, and I realized I’m really damn good with them. Plus, playing sports always gave me a purpose, and I want to find that again.” He smiles proudly. “I’m finally ready to get my life together. Gonna work with the guys at the surf shop and offer lessons while I finish my degree.”
I slide off the barstool, throwing my purse over my shoulder as I grasp Zach’s arm. “I’m proud of you. I’m glad you found what you were looking for out there.” I squeeze it gently before pulling back to head toward the door.
He catches my wrist quickly, forcing me to turn around. “My door’s still open for you, Elena.” Zach brushes his thumb across my skin. “I don’t expect anything, but I just want you to know that.”
I softly pull out of his grasp, offering a sorry smile. “I’m in someone else’s room now.”
I don’t wait to see his reaction before I turn around, heading out of the dark bar into the bright daylight.
AUGUST
“All right, just hear me out.” Zach walks a few steps ahead of me, between the alley of two residential roads in town that we have no ties to. “I’ve been saving up damn near every penny I’ve made the last year, mostly for college, but…” My brother stops in frontof a two-story, Craftsman style house, turning to face me with a smile. “I bought us a house.”
“What?” I blink, all other words lost on me.
Zach has been staying with our parents in Palm Springs the last couple of weeks. I drove out there this weekend to spend time with them, and Zach and I came back to Pacific Shores together. I haven’t told him about Elena and me yet, although I know Elena told him she moved on and was with someone else now.
He asked me about it once. I told him it wasn’t my place to speak for her, and he hasn’t brought it up again since.
My plan was to tell Zach today and then race over to Elena’s apartment, get lost in her perfect fucking body, and beg her to move in with me. Because she’s my future. She has always been my future, and my brother has always been a fucking roadblock.
“Us?” I ask.
Zach laughs, nodding. “Yeah. I mean, I’ll cover the down payment, and Mom co-signed the home loan, but I bought it for both of us.”
“Zach.” I rub my forehead, despair funneling through my body. “I… I don’t know.”
“C’mon, I know you don’t want to live in that shitty studio above the shop. This house is great!” He throws his arms out. “It’s got plenty of space, a yard for kick-backs, and it even has a sunroom. I was thinking you could turn it into an art studio since I know you still love to draw. There is a den downstairs that would be the perfect little library for you. Elena could use it, too.” He shrugs. “If she wants.”
Fuck me.
I have been staying in the studio space above my tattoo shop. It works well enough, with space for a bed and a couch. It doesn’t have a full kitchen, but all I really need is a microwave anyway. The worst part is the lack of a shower, but it has a bathroom, soI’ve just been bathing at my parents’ house every day. I didn’t look for a place upon my permanent move back to Pacific Shores because I was hoping Elena and I would find one together.
Zach steps up to me, placing his hands on my shoulders. “We haven’t gotten to live together as adults, and I think we could have a lot of fun before we both settle down. Plus, you’re the person I missed most while I was away. I’m ready to plant roots in my hometown. I may not have someone to plant them with yet, so in the meantime, I might as well spend as much time as possible with my favorite person.”
I swallow, thorns of guilt sluicing through my veins and tearing my skin apart. Looking past my brother to the house behind him, I have no clue how I’m going to make it out of this with all our hearts intact. All I can seem to do right now is force a smile back. “Show me the inside.”
18
ELENA
“HOW DID IT END?” - TAYLOR SWIFT
OCTOBER FIRST
My characters are drivingme up a fucking wall right now.
No matter what words filter through my brain, into my fingers, and onto the screen in front of me, they aren’t right. I can’t figure out where I want to go with this story, and the figments of my imagination are being incredibly difficult to work with.
I sigh, fishing a sweet pickle out of the jar on my desk and popping it into my mouth. I always keep pickles nearby when I’m writing because, well, I love them. Plus, the crunch and the vinegar taste help me stay awake when I’m working late nights like this. It’s a quarter past midnight, and I’m only about a third through my word goal for today.
I crack my neck, setting my hands back down on my keyboard—when the rasp of knuckles on my front door distracts me. I don’t know who the fuck would be showing up at my apartment unannounced at this time of night. August has an early start tomorrow at the Boardwalk, which is why he isn’t here right now, and I’m fairly certain he fell asleep about an hour ago.
Neither my parents nor my brothers would show up this late without calling first, and I don’t have any other friends. That only leaves two possibilities: a very polite axe-murderer, or Zachary Hayes.
Not sure which I fear more.
I pad to the front of the room, peering through the peephole to find Zach standing outside. I throw the door open, and I can immediately tell he has been drinking. His eyes are glossed over and bloodshot, his clothes crinkled, his hair a mess.
