Page 67 of The Wrong Drive-
Fucking Christmas Eve.
My mind flashes back to that cabin in the woods, the one where I found myself, and then subsequently lost it. For a while, my mind debated on the truth with Adam and his hobbies, but as it turns out, it was legitimate—and Aaron was involved in the string as well.
I guess you never really know someone.
Tapping my nails on the side of my glass, I ignore the buzzing of my phone. It’s more than likely my mom. Everyone is worried about me, but it’s for all the wrong reasons. They see the way things played out with Adam, and they think I left my heart in Colorado. The truth is, I did. But it’s at that stupid fucking cabin in the woods.
Fuck you, Turner.
I blink away the moisture that still somehow finds its way to my eyes, even after all this time has passed. I guess I don’t moveon as easy as I thought I did. I’ve considered going there so many times. I’ve thought about writing another letter, but I extended my offer when I stuck that Christmas card in his mailbox.
He has a phone, and he chose to never call.I take a deep breath and take a sip of my champagne. I don’t know if I’m angry or bitter. I don’t know if the infatuation with him morphed to hatred, or if I still love him. I still don’tknow.
And that’s the part I hate the most.
Catie says someday the heartbreak will fade, since she knows I fell for Turner. She doesn’t know the rest. That’s something I’ll take to my grave without regret. My phone buzzes again, and I fish it out of my purse, flipping it open. I see the notification on social media, Catie tagging me in some godforsaken selfie with the bar we’re at. We took a trip this year just for her.
“You really shouldn’t let your friend tag you in posts that give away your location,” a voice says from behind me with a deep chuckle. “It’s dangerous, though helpful if someone wants to find you.”
“Thanks for the advice,” I mutter, still staring out the window. “Why don’t you go talk to her about it?”
“I’d rather talk to you.”
I feel the presence of the desperate guy, probably out to get laid, draw closer. “I’m not much for conversation. You’re better off finding someone else.” I wave him off, making it a pointnotto look. There’s something familiar in the deep voice, and I know it’s my mind playing tricks on me. It’s happened before.
“That’s funny, you never shut up when you were with me.”
My pulse jumps in my throat, and I squeeze my eyes shut.It can’t be. It really can’t be. It’s impossible.
“Em…”
My heart explodes in my chest as my eyes flutter open, and I finally peer up at the man standing a couple of feet from me. Turner stands there, holding a glass of champagne, and sportinga fuckingsuit.His hair is longer on the top and slicked back. His eyes are as intense as always, but…
They’re filled fully with warmth.
“What are you doing here?” I manage to choke out, half tempted to pinch myself to make sure I didn’t just drink a few too many.I’ve only had one.
“Well,” he chuckles. “It took me a little longer than I thought it would, but this seemed as good of a time as any to catch up.”
I shake my head at him, my knees feeling weak with emotion. “You never called.”
“No, I didn’t.” He admits in a flat tone, downing the rest of his champagne and setting it on one of the small tables. “If I would’ve called, you wouldn’t have stayed away—I wouldn’t have stayed away. I had to have time to fix myself, Em. I followed through, but I had to do it on my time.”
“Still, you broke my heart,” I reason as he takes a step closer.
“Yeah, and I’m sorry, but it was better than accidentally killing you.” He says the words with a confidence that’s new and unnerving. “As it turns out, I was able to get everything I needed. Well,almost.” He brushes his fingers down my arm.
But I don’t budge, even as the familiar arousal pours through my body. “You can’t just come back.”
“I can.” He gently grips my chin. “I know you still love me, Em. I’ve kept eyes on you the last few months, and you haven’t moved on.”
“You’re making assumptions.”
He chuckles. “Am I?”
I suck in a sharp breath at the woodsy scent filling my lungs. “So, you’re just all better now? All ready to make it work now that I’ve gone through everything alone?”
A flash of remorse fills his expression. “You and I both know, it would’ve never worked out like that. I was in love with you, butI couldn’t be what you needed. Sometimes,” he brushes his nose against mine. “Sometimes, loveisn’tenough.”
