Charlie
We ended up staying the night in Peyton.
We’d both had one too many beers to safely drive, so Rachel directed us to a nearby inn—the cutest little place. It was a shame we couldn’t take our time. But Nixon’s alarm went off when it was supposed to, rousing us both from Dead Land.
I groaned. “Shut that thing up, will ya?”
“I can’t,” he moaned. “We’ve got ground to make up today.”
Flinging his covers back, he stood tall and stretched with a loud yawn. I peeked my eyes open and enjoyed the shape of his taut arm muscles.
He’d never be a super-strong stud or anything. He wasn’t particularly muscly or sporty, but he was gorgeous to me. I loved his lean frame and the fact that I could wrap my arms all the way around him.
His curves and contours were sexy and beautiful. I could still picture his naked body in that hot little tent. Sweat glistened on his skin while I straddled him and traced a line from his collarbone to below his belly button. He’d gazed up at me with the kind of affection I’d never felt from anyone.
I was all that mattered.
Yosemite had been the happiest time of my life—Nixon’s arms around me, his soft lips trailing kisses down my neck. I’d pictured an entire life of that.
But they were foolish dreams that hadn’t considered the real consequences of everything we wanted. The reality check punched like thunder, shocked like lightning. My aunt spent months trying to coax a smile out of me. Not even Montana’s breathtaking beauty could help me see past my pain.
The memories made me swallow and close my eyes. I’d allowed Nixon to have the life he was worthy of. I could never hate myself for that.
He had security, his family…and a girlfriend.
Clenching my teeth, I got up and dressed, then loaded up the car while Nixon had his turn in the bathroom. In spite of my sadness, I was determined the day would be fun like the night before. Nixon had been his old self again, laughing and having a good time. I needed to keep that going. We still had two days together…and a lot could happen in that time.
It was almost seven o’clock when we hit the road. I figured we’d knock off a couple of hours before breakfast. I gulped down some water from my bottle as we drove out of Peyton. Nixon was still kind of groggy but his lips tugged into a smile as he waved goodbye to Clark’s Bar.
I’d never forget that night—Rachel with her baby bump, Josh and the dreamy way he watched her on stage, getting the entire bar to raise their hands and sing “We Are Young” with us.
“Pure epicness,” I murmured.
“What was that?”
I smiled. “Last night was epic. I had so much fun. Thanks for getting up on stage with me.”
His laughter had that morning croak to it—husky and sexy. “The things I let you drag me into.”
“Aw, come on, you had fun, didn’t you?”
“I was with you. Of course I had fun.” He winked and then started singing the chorus of “Good Time.”
I giggled and passed him my phone. I didn’t have to ask him to look up the song; he knew what I was doing and searched for the upbeat tune on Spotify. Thirty seconds later, my phone was plugged into the stereo system and we were rocking out to “Good Time,” singing the parts the way we always used to.
It was a snapshot of our past and it set the perfect tone for our day of driving.
The hours flew by. We sang, laughed, reminisced about high school, then chatted about mundane stuff turned interesting because I was talking to Nixon.
We knocked off two hours before stopping for a quick breakfast, then managed another six before stopping for a late lunch. We wanted to reach Albuquerque by the end of the day, which meant we still had another five hours to go. We probably wouldn’t get there until after nine, but Nixon had called ahead and booked us a room at a hotel near the highway.
He held the door open for me as we stepped into Big Bear Diner. It looked like a family-owned business—wooden interior, checkered tablecloths, huge meals and friendly smiles. Decent music pumped through the sound system, loud enough to be heard but quiet enough not to disrupt conversation. I instantly loved the place.
“Smell that?” I sniffed.
“Oh yeah.” Nixon wiggled his eyebrows. “So good.”
I laughed as he followed me to a big, round booth in the corner. The place was half full and the smell of bacon was rich in the air.
“I know it’s lunchtime, but I’m totally getting the big breakfast.” Nixon opened his menu the second we sat down on the squishy red leather seat.
My nose wrinkled as I browsed the glossy pages, but it didn’t take me long to settle on a club sandwich and steak fries. It was just the ticket. I also ordered a glass of Sprite. I needed the sugar kick to keep me going.
“Can’t believe you still drink soda.” Nixon snickered.
My head jerked to look at him. “And you don’t?”
“Nah. Too full of sugar.” He shrugged.
“In other words, your girlfriend won’t let you drink it anymore.”
His embarrassed smile and the way he raked his fingers through his hair told me I was right. His brown locks kind of flopped over his forehead, the lack of hair product giving it a soft, messy look. I liked it. It was way more relaxed than that slicked-back do. I bet it was his human resources office girl’s idea to make him look that snazzy, dress that fancy…and eat all healthy.
“Is she one of those size four health freaks who only eats rabbit food and exercises for like five hours a day?”
He laced his fingers together and rested them on the table, forcing a tight smile. “No, but she does like to eat healthy. And she only makes me eat that way too because she cares about me.”
He bit his lips together.
“She’s a control freak, isn’t she?”
He stared at his phone, then started spinning it on the table as he tried to deny my statement. “She… I like being looked after. It’s—”
And then his phone started ringing.
Picking it up, he saw the caller and clenched his jaw before mumbling, “I have to take this.”
He shuffled out of the booth and walked away so I couldn’t hear the conversation.
I could tell he was talking to her though…or his mother.
The look was the same.
Whoever he was talking to was ragging on him—demanding, pressuring…and he was saying all the right things because he was an expert in pleasing people.
The heavy stone in my belly rattled beneath the pent-up guilt I didn’t want to face. I’d left because I thought it was best for him, but as I sat there watching his tight expression, I had to wonder if I’d made the biggest mistake of our lives. Had I sentenced him to a life he never even wanted because I was too scared that we’d lose the fight?
I didn’t want to be the nuclear bomb that blew his family apart, knowing what they’d already lost. His father had been so damn convincing.
And Nixon had never followed me or tried to track me down. I never expected him to, but I’d still lain awake for hours murmuring wishes into the darkness, hoping he’d show up on Aunt Jessica’s doorstep.
He never did.
He got over me and moved on, scoring himself a girlfriend who was nothing like me.
I blinked and looked out the window while Nixon finished his phone call.
He returned to the table with a little sigh, then flashed me a forced smile. As much as I wanted to avoid serious conversation, I had to break my own rule and say something.
The day was supposed to be nothing but light banter and fun, but I couldn’t hold it in as his butt shuffled on the spongy seat and the muscle in his jaw worked big time. Clench, unclench, clench, unclench.
Sexy. So damn sexy.
I’m still in love with you.
That’s what I wanted to say.
But I didn’t. I went for a more subtle approach. “Are you happy?”
“What?” He frowned, his eyes still drilled on the table.
I nudged his elbow with my knuckles. “With your life. Are you happy?”
“Of course I am,” he mumbled.
“So, you want to go to Columbia, and be with this girl. What’s her name?”
“Shayna,” he whispered.
“Shayna.” I nodded. “Nice name.” Trying to keep my voice upbeat was damn hard. The word was ash in my mouth, dark and acidic. “So, she makes you happy? You’re happy with your life?”
“I just said I was! Why do you keep asking?” His eyes flashed to mine and then back down to the table. He started spinning his phone again and I licked my lips, heartsick at the fact that he was lying.
“I’d hate it if you were forced into a life you didn’t want. It’s really important that you follow your heart, and your dreams.”
His laughter was brittle as he shook his head. Scrubbing a hand down his face, he pinched his nose, obviously fighting something. I was desperate to know what he really wanted to say, but in the end he just grumbled out more bullshit.
“Life doesn’t work like that, Charlie. Not everyone’s dreams come true. There needs to be a certain amount of sense thrown into the equation. There are other people to think about, and it’s selfish to just blindly pursue what you want without considering anyone else.”
The bitterness in his tone and the dark look on his face made it clear that he was thinking I’d left him for purely selfish reasons. The thought was brutal, but what did I honestly expect? In his eyes, that was exactly what I’d done.
If only I could tell him the truth. I wanted to unleash it all, but it’d just do more damage than good. It’d turn my last four years of torture into a complete waste.
Gritting my teeth, I took in a breath and finally managed, “Not all dreams are selfish.”
“Your passion for photography took you to Montana. You quit on a college education to pursue a dream with no guarantees!”
“I quit on college so I could live a life that made me happy. I want to photograph every color that exists on this planet. I want to capture every face and every smile. And I want to see it all through my camera lens. A college classroom wasn’t letting me do that.”
Nixon’s fingers shook as he rubbed his forehead. “Life can’t be about having fun all the time. At some point you have to grow up and live a normal life.”
“What’s normal?” I bit back. “Two-point-four kids and a house? That’s all well and good if you want that, but that can’t be my normal. My normal can’t be this strict, rigid set of rules and expectations. I want to travel, and see the world. I don’t want to be tied down, and I don’t need to be like everybody else to feel happy.”
His gaze hit mine. The look in his eyes was heart-wrenching. Those sad brown eyes. If only he could understand how badly I wanted my dreams to include him. I’d just spouted off the plans we’d come up with in that tent. Traveling, exploring, adventuring together.
But then I’d gone and left him out of the equation.
And he’d moved on like he was supposed to.
I’d convinced myself it would make him happy. He’d be better off.
But…
Oh shit. What have I done?