Breathe You (Pieces of Broken Book 2) Page 8

  Jessie blushed at the use of her pet name. Rick was a few years her senior, and for some reason avoided their connection even though it was blatantly obvious the two of them had the hots for each other. I never understood why. There was always something off about it.

  “You know, I don’t have a pet name.” I glanced at Jessie from the corner of my eye.

  “Put a cork in it. I want to enjoy myself.”

  “For now.” I took a deep inhale and looked around, trying to relax and just focus on having a good time for once.

  Rick returned with our drinks, and I wasted no time sucking down half of it before asking him to bring me another. It was the first time I’d drunk since I almost killed myself with alcohol poisoning, and it immediately shot to my head and made a swirl in my belly.

  Rick leaned in. “You good?”

  “I’m good.” When he turned to get my next cocktail, I faced my friends. “Thank you for dragging me out, guys. I needed this.”

  Jace wrapped his arms around my waist. “Dance with me. I miss you.”

  We hit the dance floor, and my body took over, remembering its dance partner for life. Jace and I always put on quite a show and tonight was no different. By the time we returned to the bar, my chest was heaving as I reached for my sweaty, watered down drink.

  Jace swatted my hand. “Have I not taught you anything?”

  I raised my eyebrows at him.

  “You never drink anything left unattended. Unless you enjoy roofies.” He raised his hand. “Rick! Bring her another one, please.” He turned back to scowl at me, but his twisted pout was short-lived. Jace’s spine sharpened, and I could practically see the hitch in his chest as he looked past my shoulder. He swallowed hard. “Be right back.” Then he disappeared into the crowd.

  A few minutes later, I caught sight of him talking to a cute guy who I thought looked slightly familiar. Is he that twin? Or maybe the football player? A fresh drink plopped in front of me, and I gave up trying to analyze Jace. He changed men like I changed underwear.

  Rick wiped the bar clean with a rag. “So, Eva, you singing?”

  “Not tonight. I’m off the clock.” I traced wet swirls in the wood with my finger. A familiar laugh swarmed my ears, breaking the monotonous sound of the crowd. The hairs on my arms rose, realizing if he was close, Blake was probably closer. I flipped my hair to the front of my shoulder so I could bury my face in it while turning my head to peek.

  Eric snaked his arm around some bountifully-bosomed redhead and rubbed his nose along the edge of her jaw. She giggled and meshed further into him, slapping him playfully on the chest.

  I looked around—no Blake. My body relaxed and then tensed once again as Eric’s hand drifted to the mound of the redhead’s ass, another throaty chuckle rumbling from his throat. My insides churned. Any hopes I had of him being Abby and my savior were flitting away on a wave of this girl’s fire engine red locks.

  I rolled the drink between my fingers and took a sip, begging for it to live up to its name of liquid courage. Maybe he would tell me who the girl was that Blake was seeing. I needed to know. Needed confirmation that what we’d had was over and that I should move on and set him free.

  I probably shouldn’t have been intruding on their moment, but I couldn’t help myself. Downing the rest of my drink, I turned, determined to get my answer. I nudged his side with my shoulder, and he rocked into his female companion before turning to face me, his eyebrows pulled together in anger.

  When he saw it was me, a slow smile spread across his boyishly handsome face, and his mint green eyes came to life. “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” he slurred.

  I nodded toward the girl. “I see you downgraded. Didn’t take long to move on, huh?”

  He moved from her and slipped a heavy arm around my shoulder, the alcohol seeping from his mouth to imbed itself in my nostrils. “Seems we all gotta do what we gotta do to move on these days, Angel.” He winked.

  My stomach shriveled at the use of Blake’s pet name. I swallowed hard. It’s true. “You’ve seen her before, then?”

  “Amanda?” He shrugged. “Couple times. Right, baby?” He turned toward the redhead and blew her a kiss. She merely smiled, then eyed me as she stuck her straw in the corner of her mouth and took a pull. I thought I would be sick, visions of them double dating rotting my insides.

  “I gotta go. Thanks, Eric.”

  At his puzzled expression, I squeezed past him and made my way back to my friends. “Hey, guys, I think I’m gonna head home.” I kissed Jessie on the cheek.

  “You sure? I feel like you just got here,” she whined.

  “Yeah, I’m not feeling great. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Jace had returned in my absence and ambled to my side. “You sure you’re okay? You don’t look so hot.”

  “Perfect. Love.” I recited our unique term of endearment and kissed his cheek.

  “Love,” he replied with a questioning glance.

  Outside, my lungs opened up, inviting in the cool air. I hadn’t realized how claustrophobic I’d felt in there. I pulled the edges of my jacket shut and bared down to the cold, the few drinks I’d consumed doing their job of warming me, and began the walk home.

  One, two, three . . .

  Lost in thought, I counted the cracks in the sidewalk, making sure I didn’t step on them. I wasn’t sure what I thought would happen if I did. World termination?

  I dug around in my bag and pulled out my iPod, needing to distract my brain from the dark thoughts I felt clawing their way toward me. Ever appropriate, the somber sound of a guitar filled the silence as What If You by Joshua Radin began.

  His voice, his words tore through me. Maybe the saddest combination I had ever heard slapping me in the face. A song built around love lost, around one last chance to feel. Tears welled in my eyes as goose bumps lined my skin. He would never know what his absence was doing to me, how it was gutting me and shredding any hopes I had of feeling whole, human.

  I superimposed Blake and me into the lyrics, picturing myself lying beside him for one final goodbye before I disappeared from his life for good. I wished for one more chance to feel. To be close to him, knowing it was impossible. I pictured the look in his beautifully pained eyes when he would wake the next morning to find me gone.

  A set of familiar concrete stairs with gold drizzled throughout taunted me. They weren’t my own, but they begged me to use them. My body always had a way of doing what it wanted without me even realizing. I walked absentmindedly into the lobby, waving to the doorman in a dream state, wishing for one more chance. An opportunity to say goodbye the way we should have. The way I needed to.

  I opened the zipper in my wallet, extracted a lone key, and dangled it from the red satin ribbon it was anchored from. I watched it twist and twirl, and felt my stomach do the same.

  Blake’s spare key.

  I hadn't given it back. His words when he gave it to me replayed in my head. Use it anytime. It’s just as much yours as I am. You’re always welcome.

  I bit down on the edge of my bottom lip, contemplating what I was about to do. Sure he wasn’t mine anymore, but he hadn’t asked for the key back either. He knew I still had it, so if I were no longer welcomed to use it, he would have changed the locks, right?

  I glided the brass between my fingers, flipping it over and back again, uncertain. My chest weighted, the pull to be near him stronger than anything I had ever felt. Then, with a racing heart and trembling fingers, I slipped it into its home. With a turn and a click, the seam of the threshold parted and a wave of Blake rushed out, causing a burst of anticipation to surge from my lungs. I closed my eyes briefly, enveloped in memories and familiarity—letting him invade me as an acquainted comfort wrapped itself around me.

  Home.

  I closed the door as quietly as I could and stepped inside. Remembrances swarmed me—his leather couch, and the day I’d first said yes. Told him I was his and would never leave him. The first time he had touched me. Th
e day he had called me a unicorn and the adorably confused look on his face when I didn’t understand why.

  Lies.

  I hung my head, ashamed that I hadn’t kept my word, and moved toward the kitchen. The table sat bare but for the streak of moonlight. In my mind, it was covered with books, and Blake was wearing a mischievous smile as he gave me a lesson with his unorthodox teaching skills.

  I looked up then, squinting through the darkness as I searched for the first photo he had ever taken of me, which had been framed and displayed on the counter, but it was gone. Glancing around, it hit me—there was no sign of me anywhere. Nothing of mine remained. No pictures lining his walls. No flowers.

  I tucked my hair behind my ear and pushed through the burn in my throat, making my way toward the back of the apartment. I envisioned yellow caution tape that once blocked the bedroom door in Blake’s attempt to keep his hands off me, and despite my melancholy that he had just about erased me from his life, a small smile met my lips at the fond memory.

  I pressed my palms to the wood and rested my forehead against it, knowing he lay just on the other side. I wanted so badly to be near him but couldn’t shake the feeling that I just didn’t belong here anymore.

  One last time.

  I squared my shoulders, gathering strength before I broke the seal.

  In the dim light of the room, I was able to make out a giant mound beneath the covers. Soft breathing floated from below the comforter, and my heart skipped a beat as his aura slipped out and deposited itself under my skin. Whether I could have him or not, this man owned me. I didn’t think I would be able to soak up enough of him to last me the rest of my life, but I had to try.

  I slipped my shoes off and crept inside, discarding my jacket as I walked farther into the room. When I reached the side of the bed, Blake’s face was finally visible. The soft illumination from the moonlight played on his relaxed features, making him look younger, more boyish than I remembered, despite the extra scruff he wore on his face these days.

  With a slight part of his lips, I watched the air filter in and out of his mouth in a relaxed rhythm, remembering the smell of his breath, the taste of his tongue. Gently, I moved to my knees and put my face within millimeters of his, closing my eyes and allowing the oxygen to pass between us, recycling from his lungs into mine.

  I opened my eyes and sat back on my heels to study him. He was on his side, one bare arm lying over the cover. His face looked so peaceful, completely at ease without a crease or worry line to mar his beautiful features. His soft hair hung loose, framing his eyes, and I recalled how he’d fought to keep those eyes open the night of our first date. That thought brought a smile to my lips and a sadness to my heart. I pushed that away before it could deter me from what I was here to do.

  Not wanting to disturb him, I walked around to the other side of the bed and slipped underneath the blankets, trying to get as close as possible without waking him. The coolness of the empty side—my side—sent a harsh reality rocketing through me that it no longer held that title. I suppressed the tightness in my throat and inched my way closer to him, the sheets becoming warmer the nearer I scooted.

  Then I was beside him, feeling his heat spiraling beyond his body. I stared at the ceiling, choking back a sob as a million memories flooded me. Happier times which made me long for even the not so happy times, just because they were still our times. One by one, visions of the us I’d left behind crashed into me—the feel of his skin, the power of his arms and the intensity of his gaze. The feeling of gentle possessiveness he held over me, and the way he’d claimed me as his in a non-threatening, non-dominating way that only Blake could do. The way he’d called me Angel and really believed that I was when, in fact, it was him who was the angel all along.

  A tear trickled from the corner of my eye into my hairline and I thought I’d wake him if I didn’t stop, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I needed this—had to let him go properly.

  The words to What If You came to mind and overtook me . . .

  It’s come to this . . . release me.

  Another tear. Swallow.

  I’ll leave before the dawn.

  My breathing hiccuped in my silenced throat as I wiped the back of my hand across my eyes and slid my arms around his bare chest. I did it lightly so not to disturb him, but my fingers were trembling along each brush of his ribs. I ran my toes along his calf and snaked my body around his.

  Blake’s breathing faltered, and he adjusted himself, pushing back against me, and I heard the distinct sound of him smacking his lips together in his sleep—the most adorable little habit I’d ever encountered in my life—before the movement of his rib cage evened out once again. I held my breath, fearing I would wake him and be caught, but he seemed to have drifted back to wherever he’d been. I exhaled and relaxed into him once again, breathing in the scent of him. His soap and his skin—his Blake.

  The song replayed in my head as a flicker of hope stupidly slipped into my psyche. My heart rate sped up as I wondered . . . what if? What if I woke him? Would he be happy to see me? Or done and disgusted?

  What if you could wish me away . . .

  What if I could take back the words . . .

  God, I needed him.

  I had to tell him. I had to take a shot.

  I leaned up on my forearm and stared down at his beautiful profile. The profile of this man whose inside was as beautiful as his outside. I ran my nose along his neck, drawing him into me, hoping a piece of him would permeate me and stay there forever. A line of goose bumps raised there, but again he didn’t stir, and I knew I was on borrowed time. I closed my eyes, ready to tell him I was sorry. To take the plunge on a leap of faith.

  Making my way around the hard line of his jaw, I opened my eyes, searching to see if he’d felt me when my eyes caught the faint outline of a picture. With no other trace of myself in his apartment, I was curious which memory he’d decided to keep close. Long blonde hair draped over a dainty shoulder, but there was something off. As I squinted, I couldn’t make out the surroundings. It wasn’t ringing a bell. Reaching over his shoulder, I fingered the photograph lying on his bedside table and pulled it closer to inspect it. My breathing caught, and my heart began to bang around in my chest. Though similar in many ways, this was not me. It was her. The girl from earlier.

  Amanda.

  Smiling a soft, contented smile, she wasn’t looking directly into the lens. She was looking past it somewhere. The shots I knew Blake lived for. And it was right beside him in the night. Replacing mine. Where he could study it and fall asleep to it. Dream about it.

  With a start, I backed away, clutching my chest and wondering if that was where his mind was as I lie in his bed. With her. In that photograph, reliving a happy moment.

  Ice seemed to line the mattress, making me feel like an intruder in a place I no longer belonged. I dropped the photo and slid out from beneath the covers as delicately as possible. As almost an afterthought, I reached into my pocket and extracted my key, placing it in his drawer. Then I slipped on my jacket and shoes and turned to look at Blake one last time in a final goodbye.

  But when the sun hits your eyes through your window, there’ll be nothing you can do . . .

  My throat began to close, and I knew it was only a matter of time before I lost it. I shut the door behind me and ran from the room, not stopping until the cool night air slapped me in the face. I dropped to his stairs, weeping into my knees.

  I’m too late.

  My legs refused to take me away. I rested my chin on my arms and brushed my fingertips along the concrete, remembering so many walks into and out of this building, up and down these stairs.

  Flash.

  A memory of him taking a picture of that girl flashed before my eyes. Just as quickly, it was me standing as the object of his attention again.

  Flash. Flash.

  I winced.

  She’s skipping down the stairs toward him, looping her arm through his. Then it’s me again, snugglin
g close to his side.

  Flash.

  Wince.

  She’s laughing, her blonde hair swiping along his arm.

  I crumbled.

  I have no one.

  BLAKE

  I FELT HER.

  With her living inside me for so long, it was impossible for my body to not know when she was close—even in my deepest rest. It took everything for me to pretend I was asleep, just to get as much time with her as possible. I erased her from my place for my own sanity, the constant reminders too crippling, but doing the same to my heart wasn’t so simple.

  God, she felt so fucking good. I couldn’t help my skin from reacting. From coming alive with her wrapped around me. A couple of times I thought she’d figured it out, but then she stayed, coiling herself further. When a unicorn approaches you, you don’t stir. You stay as still as fucking possible and take in their beauty before they disappear again.

  She’d left so abruptly, I didn’t understand why. I’d laid there, hoping she was coming back, but she never did. I rolled to a sitting position, dropping my legs from the side of the bed, and switched on the bedside lamp. I scrubbed my palms over my eyes and took a deep inhale, looking around. The smell of her still lingered in the air, on my skin.

  Something on the floor caught my eye, and I rubbed it again, squinting. The picture of Marybeth. I picked it up and put it back on my nightstand, wondering briefly if Eva had seen it and if that had sent her running.

  Didn’t matter. Clearly, it was over.

  I couldn’t shake the undeniable feeling that she had just said goodbye for the very last time, and part of me was almost relieved. This girl had wrecked me from the inside, broken something I’d thought unbreakable. I’d had a thick skin my whole life because of my father, set my heart in a sheath of armor so it couldn’t shatter, and she’d blasted it. Scattered the pieces like they’d never been part of one beating organ in the first place.

  I’d given her everything. All my faith. My love. My heart and soul. Hell, I’d given her my fucking veins and insides. She owned me. Lived in me. And now, I was dead. A carcass of a man, lifeless and broken. And I didn’t care. My reason was gone, and she’d taken me with her. There was only so much a person could endure, and I’d reached my limit.