Page 8 of Kissing My Grumpy Ex Boyfriend

But if I’m being honest with myself, what should I have expected? He has every right to be angry with me. In the end, I was the one who said we couldn’t be together anymore. I didn’t go after him. I left.

I’m the one who ruined the best thing that ever happened to me, and it looks like I’ll be paying for that loss for the rest of my life.

The digital clock on the nightstand says that it’s two in the morning. There is no way that I’m not going to get any sleep, so I roll out of bed and grab my sweater. I put it on and head for the door when I stop.

Glancing over my shoulder toward the window, a sad smile plays on my lips.

“What the hell?” I shrug. “For old time’s sake.”

I cross the room and open my window. It’s hard to lift from years of disuse, but eventually, I pull it open and sit on the windowsill. The tree branch that I used to step out onto is farther away than I remember it being, and the ground is even harder. This is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, but I’m over playing it safe. I’ve spent my life going the safe route, and where has it gotten me?

I grab hold of the sides of the window and place my feet on the tree branch. It looks as though the tree has grown a bit since I last did this, and I hope that means it’s strong enough to hold my weight.

The branch gives a bit when I step on it, but it’s better than snapping it in half and sending me to the ground. I take a deep breath and push my way out onto the branch. This isn’t as easy as I remember it being.

Slowly I make my way down each branch until my foot slips and the branch I’m on snaps. The only keeping me from falling is the fact that I’m holding onto the branch above me for dear life. I take a moment to let my stomach make its way back down from my throat before I look down to see how far the drop is.

I’m close enough that I can drop to the ground. But when I let go, my feet slip out from under me, and I land on my butt in some wet dirt.

“Come on,” I whisper as I stand and brush myself off. I turn to look, and sure enough, there is a big dirt stain on my ass.

I brush off as much off as I can but give up when I remember nobody will see me out this late at night.

I start walking without a particular place in mind, but I find myself heading in the direction of the lake.

The cool night breeze off the water helps calm my troubled mind. I miss this—the security and peace of my small town. For too long, I’ve had to shut out the lights and noise of the city. This is a nice break from everything.

My feet move of their own accord, taking me straight to the pier. A place filled with good and bad memories, but it’s familiar. It’s safe.

I stop abruptly when I see someone sitting on the end with their back towards me. But I’d know that silhouette anywhere—it’s Aiden.

* * *

AIDEN

Coming to the pier and gazing out over the water is something I do when I have a lot on my mind. My conversation with Bellamy, or rather lack of conversation, has still given me a lot to think about.

I lied to her. Which is something I’ve never done before, but that didn’t stop me today. When I said I was over her, it wasn’t the truth, but that didn’t stop me from saying it to try and convince myself. Sure, I told everybody else in my life that I was, but I never lied to myself about that, not until today.

I’ve often wondered if she thought about me the way I think of her. It’s mostly when I am working on, and new piece and I’m just getting into the zone, and my mind wanders. It always wanders to Bellamy. What would she think of my woodworking projects? Most of the furniture I’ve made for my house was for her in some way—in the style, I think she would like. It’s probably some perverse way of torturing myself, making decisions for a woman who I can never be with.

“May I sit?” a familiar voice asks next to me.

I look up and see Bellamy standing next to me in what looks like her pajamas. Think of the devil, and she shall appear.

“Sure.”

She sits down next to me, and I get a whiff of soft jasmine from her hair. The same scented shampoo she used when we were together. My dick twitches with excitement, but I have to remind myself that this Bellamy isn’t my Bellamy anymore.

“The arch you built is beautiful,” she says, kicking her feet out like she did when we were younger.

“Thanks.”

More silence settles between us. She’s the one who interrupted my quiet time on the pier. She can fill the silence with conversation if she wants it.

“I also fell out of the tree tonight. I actually landed my ass in some wet dirt.”

I laugh bubbles out of me before I can stop it. “You did not?”

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