Series: Torn and Bound Duet Series by K. Webster
Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Get over here,” I rumble, finally stepping out of Drew’s comforting grip.
She rushes over to me, throwing her arms around my neck. I hug her to me, my heart beating out of control and stuck in my throat.
“I’m sorry I fucked up, MiMi. Please forgive me.”
She snorts out a humorless laugh. “As if I had a choice. I love you, Ashton Carter, even when you’re a confusing asshole.”
The jingle of keys can be heard as Drew silently lets himself out of the apartment. Later, I’ll have to corner him and thank him for not letting me retreat. For forcing me to deal with this shit with Mia. Having him there, standing behind me, felt more comforting than I’d like to admit.
He was wrong.
I don’t see him as Dad’s live-in spy.
I see him as my gorgeous, intelligent roommate and now friend.
Maybe people can have a few labels.
Or… fuck labels.
Mia and I, though, our label of best friends, will always be my favorite.
“I get jealous of Brayden. I think you’re beautiful. Lately, the urge to kiss you is out of control,” I whisper against her hair. “But I’m not enough for you. My mind is too messy. I’m afraid if I ventured out to try something with you, I’ll fail. I can’t ruin us, Mia. I need you.”
“I need you too.” She sighs heavily. “I had a wonderful date with Brayden. We kissed. Thought you should know that.”
Guilt eats me alive.
I ruined her date because of me.
“MiMi…”
“I’m going to see him again. And I’m going to need my best friend to be just that. My best friend.”
“You got it,” I promise, hating how my heart doesn’t completely like that idea. “Want to eat ice cream and build pig pens on Minecraft?”
“Now you’re just sucking up,” she says with a laugh.
“Is it working?”
“Kinda.”
“Are we good, Mia? I can’t bear to think we’re not.”
She tilts her head to look up at me. “We’re good. Now go make me an ice cream sundae while I change out of these clothes.”
I can’t help but grin down at her. “You’re a bossy brat.”
And beautiful and brave and my best friend.
“And you’re a bitchy boy,” she sasses. “That makes us even.”
I tickle her ribs, sending her screaming out of my apartment.
We fixed it.
I’ll be damned if I break it again.
“Hey, Dad. I know it’s been a while since I’ve visited. But in my defense, it’s been one helluva a year.” I swallow thickly. “I can’t believe it’s been five damn years since you’ve been gone.” I drop my ass onto the cold grass. Sometimes it seems like I talk to him more now that he’s gone than I did when he was alive.
“So, as you can see I’m back in Hawk’s Landing. Coaching at Atlantic Pointe. Not exactly what you dreamed for me… Hell, it wasn’t what I dreamed for myself. But that’s just the way shit shook out.”
I pull the hockey puck I brought with me out of my hoodie pocket and roll it around in my hands, mentally preparing for what I’m about to say next. Even if I know my dad can’t talk back, saying the next words are still hard because I have to hear them. “Brayden plays for the Ice Hawks… and he still hates me. I don’t blame him. Not really. What I did was so stupid and if I could take it back I would.”
I take a deep breath and drop my face into my hands. Over the years, after my dad passed away, I used to come here to talk to him. Get shit off my chest since I had no one else to talk to. But right now, as I attempt to spill my guts to him, I feel like maybe I’m talking to the wrong person. Maybe the person I need to be talking to is the guy I’m talking about… “I miss him so fucking much, but I have no clue how to fix shit. If it’s not too late, that is.”
“Who do you miss?” a masculine voice says, making me jump. I twist my head around and find Brayden standing behind me, dressed in an Ice Hawk’s hoodie identical to mine and jeans. His hands are stuffed into his front pockets and his brown eyes are locked on me.
Breaking our stare, I lean forward and place the hockey puck on top of the others I’ve left over the years and then stand and face him.
For a long minute, I consider how to answer his question. I could lie, but the advice I gave Ashton earlier is still on my mind: let your feelings guide you. I think it’s time I take my own advice.
“You,” I tell him honestly. “I miss you.”
And then I wait with bated breath to see how he’s going to respond.
Brayden’s eyes flicker with a hint of raw emotion before he quickly schools his features, feigning indifference. “Looks like we had the same idea.” He juts his chin out toward my dad’s gravestone, changing the subject. My heart drops into my stomach at the way he ignored my attempt at telling him how I feel, but I can’t fault him. I fucked up first and now I have to deal with those consequences. I hurt Brayden, and I don’t blame him for the wall he’s erected to protect himself.