Charlie
I couldn’t believe Nixon called me out on the whole travel thing.
And I couldn’t believe he wasn’t writing anymore!
That was a travesty.
He was amazing. The guy knew how to make the most boring information sound fascinating. He would have made such a great reporter…or a travel writer.
That was the plan, way back then. I’d take the photos, he’d write about them, and we’d publish books about our adventures around the world.
It could have been so epic.
But then I destroyed it.
For his own security.
I wanted so badly to explain that to him, but I couldn’t. How did I admit what had happened? The repercussions were huge, and so destructive.
No, I’d done the right thing. I just wished that it felt like I’d done the right thing. Because as I sat there in that car, listening to his sad voice and enduring the sad conversation that basically implied neither of us were doing what we wanted with our lives…I had to wonder if I’d made a huge mistake.
As if to amplify my doubts, “Break Me Down” popped up on my playlist.
The only words I could hear throughout the entire song were “I’m yours.”
It hurt because it was true.
I was Nixon’s. I always would be.
I’d never wanted any other boyfriend. Even though Chix never officially dated, we had both wanted to. That summer proved it. We finally overcame our fears of ruining our friendship.
But then I had to walk away.
And I’d never moved on.
I’d tried—gone on a bunch of different dates, but I could never make it anything more than a night of fun. If my date got too handsy or serious I’d back away in a flash. No guy had ever compared to Nixon. We’d had depth that no one could match.
So I kept it light and if a guy ever tried to fall in love with me, I’d cut him off or move away.
That’s what you’re so good at, right?
Running away.
The thought was dark and brutal.
Crossing my arms, I rested my boots on the dash and glared out the window.
I didn’t need a stupid boyfriend to make me happy.
Stealing a glimpse at Nixon’s handsome face, I knew that was total bullshit.
I mean, I was happy. But I was smart enough to know that being with Nixon always made me happier.
The thought that maybe he’d moved on and found joy with someone else shot through me. It was like a freaking speargun to the chest, and I didn’t want to know.
But then Fliss’s warnings echoed in the back of my mind and I was compelled to blurt, “You dating anyone?”
Nixon stilled, then gave me a quick glance. “Yeah. I am.”
The words were acid in my ears but I forced a smile. “Is it serious?”
“It could be heading that way, yeah.” His jaw worked to the side, his eyes trained on the road ahead.
I didn’t know what to say. I figured screaming “How the hell could you move on when I haven’t stopped loving you for one second?” wouldn’t fly, so I swallowed the glass shards in my throat and murmured, “Good on you, man. She pretty?”
“Yeah.” His lips twitched with a smile.
“What does she do?”
“She’s in human resources. She got an assistant’s job last year and is working towards a managerial role.”
“Wow. Cool.” I bobbed my head, kind of lost for words. Human resources? A manager? That didn’t seem like Nixon’s type.
Because it wasn’t like me at all.
I’d go out of my mind working in an office job like that.
I squeezed my eyes shut and turned away from Nix.
Was I seriously arrogant enough to think I’d be the only girl he’d ever like?
Disappointment spiked through me. He’d moved on. He had a freaking human resources girlfriend who no doubt wore heels and fitted skirts with matching jackets—the exact opposite of me.
Hurt wasn’t a big enough word to describe what was happening to my heart.
But anger overrode the emotion.
What had I expected?
I’d left him with no explanation. Of course he was going to fucking move on!
“You?”
I jerked at Nixon’s question and spun back to face him. “Me what?”
“Do you have a boyfriend?” His voice was deep and thick, his Adam’s apple sticking out when he swallowed.
I bobbed my head before I could stop myself. I didn’t know why I did that. Maybe I wanted to save face, I’m not sure. But I did. I lied.
“Yeah. I mean, sort of.” I captured one of my blue curls and wound it around my pinky finger. “It’s been a bit on again, off again. We’re currently on a breather, but who knows, I’ll probably end up marrying the guy.” I laughed and pinched my lower lip, looking out my window so I didn’t have to see Nixon’s face.
He was probably happy for me, dammit!
He’d moved on.
He had a girlfriend.
A beautiful one who made him smile. She no doubt had perfect legs and perky little breasts that meant she could wear anything and look smoking hot.
Once again, I crossed my arms over my chest and looked out the window.
I never should have suggested the road trip. It was a terrible idea.
But I couldn’t blurt out the fact that I wanted to travel across the country with him to try and recreate what we’d had that summer.
The thought made me still.
Really? Is that really what I’m trying to do?
Make amends and go back to where we never should have left off?
Grinding my teeth together, I kept my eyes trained on the scenery flashing past.
You’re a hopeless dreamer, Chuck.
Nixon had a girlfriend.
My eyes burned.
She was waiting for him in LA.
Shit, I thought he’d been worried about his parents, but it was no doubt his girlfriend he’d been texting.
She better be damn amazing.
And she better treat Nixon like a fucking king.
My nostrils flared, my jaw trembling as I fought the emotion inside of me.
If I didn’t do something soon, I was going to explode.
Thankfully music saved my ass like it always did.
The guitar riff for “Raise Your Glass” came on and I rushed for the volume, cranking it up and throwing all my emotion into singing.
Nixon cracked up—a loud, surprising burst of sound.
I whipped around to look at him. His smile was so damn adorable. “What’s so funny?”
“Do you remember that time you performed this at the school karaoke competition?”
A hot memory flashed through my mind and I couldn’t help a sheepish grin.
“I thought Principal Maclean was gonna burst a blood vessel. You got the entire school up and dancing like crazy people. It was fantastic.” He shook his head, quietly snickering like he loved my antics.
He was the only one who ever had.
Which was why I’d always be his.
Because he was the guy who’d put up with my shit and still love me at the end of the day.
I lurched for my phone and skipped back to the beginning, needing to throw myself into an uninterrupted performance. I needed some way to release the pressure inside.
Pumping up the volume a few more notches, I went for it, banging my head and singing the words at the top of my lungs.
And Nixon joined me.
Because we were Chix.