Chapter 1
Landon
Seven Years Later
A FAMILIAR, GNAWING PANG STARTS throbbing and my muscles tense. I don’t have to turn around to see her. I know she’s here.
Ashley Monroe’s back in tiny old Mason, Texas. She’s back to finish breaking me, killing me, and then when she’s done, she’ll toss me aside like garbage. Since she didn’t have the chance to see me fall apart in person, well, now she’s here to see it. Front and center. She’d much rather pull my heart out and stomp on it and watch while I slowly die with a cruel smile on her face.
Heartless.
Cold.
Calculating.
Knowing all of this should be enough to forget her. Push her out of my head. Move the hell on. The only problem is I’m a man with something to prove. I want her to see the man I am today and not the boy from seven years ago.
I should have a woman on my arm to erase the pain Ashley brings. There are plenty of them here, and I know they want me from the way their eyes take me in. I could do that for the sole reason to make Ashley jealous and hurt her, the way she did to me.
One look at her and my world falls apart again. She’s standing by my side, acting as if she didn’t shatter my world and put me in a depressing place seven years ago. Blinking, I steady my breathing, bring my beer to my lips, and take a healthy swig before setting it down on the bar. My hands tremble as she moves closer to me. I should get up and leave without talking to her.
Then I look at her again. I don’t see the light in her deep, honey brown eyes anymore. I study her outfit—faded jeans with a white, off-the-shoulder top and knee-high boots. Her face is slender and her collarbone stands out. Her body is smaller than I remember and the curves I love so much are gone. I focus on the dark circles underneath her eyes and exhaustion is all over her face. Pain twists though my stomach, inciting the anger that I didn’t protect her, and I’m just as much to blame as she is for the end of us.
My two friends, Gunner and Jeff, are by my side and don’t say anything when they realize who’s here.
“We’ll leave you here,” Gunner says and pats my back.
She’s staring at me, but I refuse to look at her again. If I look at her, then I’ll push away the pain and want to start over with her. I’ll bring her back to my house, place her down on my bed, and feel her warmth. Feel her. Then I’ll fucking make her eat something and let her sleep for days, weeks, months. Anything to bring her back.
But I can’t.
No matter how much I want to protect and heal her, I can’t deny the harsh reality of our breakup. A furious fall of guilt sheds around us, circling us, entrapping us so we’re forced to bring out old feelings and give one another closure.
“Whiskey,” she whispers, sitting down on the empty stool next to me.
Her voice puts me in a frenzy. My entire being is overflowing with pain and confusion. The twists and turns of the path from where she’s standing to where I’m sitting are jagged. Fury howls around us, casting a brutal storm to create devastation to the only two people in its course.
Yet, she’s my one regret.
My one heartache and the one I let go.
The suffocating presence of Ashley and her nickname for me makes me go still. Instead of looking at her, acknowledging her again, I keep my eyes on my beer bottle.
“Can we talk, please?”
No.
I won’t let her back in.
I won’t survive that hurt again.
“Whiskey.” This time she says my name a little higher than a soft whisper. “I’m back.”
Through the years, I’ve kept up with her, reading the tabloids, and following her on social media. All at the advice of Ellie, Gunner’s wife; she reminds me every day that love will conquer and once Ashley’s back, my world will be whole again.
I’m watching her, drinking her in, and even though we’ve been apart for so long, she’s still Ashley. She’s still my Ashley. The one who has the power to take my breath away.
“There’s got nothing to say, Ashley.” She freezes.
It takes me a moment to realize what I’ve said, but I don’t take it back. I have to protect my heart, and in doing so, I’m going to have to hurt her.
“We have a lot to talk about,” she says with emphasis to each word. “I’m not leaving until you get your head out of your ass and look at me. “
“Is that so?”
“Yes,” she confidently says. Ashley’s moving closer to me, and my body stiffens at the closeness I feel to her.
“Where’s your pop star boyfriend? Shawn is it? The two of you look good together.”
“That was for show. It was to promote his album. I’m sorry, Whiskey. I know I owe you so much more than my apologies. Give me a chance to explain. All I’m asking for is a chance.”
“Seven years ago, I would have accepted, but not now. Seven years ago, I would have moved heaven and earth for you, Ashley. Now, there isn’t anything between us. You threw our relationship away for him.”
“You never came for me! You never tried talking to me! You never gave me a chance to explain!”
“I did!” I yell, and get up from the stool. “After all that shit that went down, I bought a ticket to New York to talk to you and figure it out. Then, I saw you walk out of the cafe with him, kissing and hugging, so I left.” She doesn’t move an inch and stares back at me with the same ferocity as I have in myself.
“No!” she yells. “Everything with Shawn was for show. It didn’t mean anything. I couldn’t talk about it. That’s why I didn’t tell you and give you a warning.”
I let out a huff. “You should’ve trusted me. Instead, you did whatever they told you to do and left me in the dark. I wanted you to tell me. Not the tabloids.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Landon. I promise you, it meant nothing.”
“It may not have meant anything to you, but it broke my damn heart. While you were out there living your life, and forgetting all about me, I was here, living my life and forgetting you. You need to leave me alone. There’s nothing more to say.”
“So, is that why you broke up with me in a letter?” she asks, pulling out the one-page letter and presses it against my chest. “One page, Whiskey. One damn page—after all the years we’ve been together.”
“Like I said,” I slowly say, “love wasn’t on our side and love still isn’t on our side.”
The explosion in my chest is more than I can handle. I need to maintain my emotions and myself. I can’t break down and let her see the pain I’m feeling. It’s like a thousand knives forcefully slicing my skin until I bleed. The pain turns into numbness and I can see each slash. The sinister smile from the blade laughs in my face; it continues, and I’m useless to fight back.
She takes back her letter and slides it inside her pocket without breaking our connection.
“You owe me an explanation.”
“Come again?” I say to her.
“You heard me.” I don’t miss the sass in her voice. Same old Ashley. “We’re going to talk.”
The words waver between anguish and hurt. “No. I’m done, Ashley.”
I sound like an asshole. I can tell she’s hurting from the way her hands are trembling and the way her eyes are begging me for something. Anything.
“We’re not done.”
Jim, the bartender, makes his way over to us and looks at Ashley. “What can I get ya?”
She looks at my empty beer bottle and the shot glass I didn’t realize was there until she did. I’m guessing it’s from Gunner and Jeff.
“Another round of whiskey,” Ashley says. “Are you staying or going?”
“Going. Enjoy your night and leave me the hell alone,” I slowly say and move away from her.
My heart’s beating wildly, blood pumping hard and fast through my veins. I can’t think straight and shake her out of my system. I hurry out of the bar, rushing to my truck, gasping for air when my hands slam on the door. Fucking Ashley’s back. The other half of my heart’s back.
But will I take her back?