26. Chapter 26

26

Heath

"So, how's the friendship going?" Marie asks with a grin.

"What fucking friendship?" I sip my beer.

"With Hope, who else?" She rolls her eyes dramatically. If Marie wasn't a computer geek she'd make an excellent actress.

"That's your fucking business how Blondie?"

"You're my best friend. So of course you're my business."

"She's right," Sebastian chirps in with a smirk.

I study the bar, specifically, the teenagers talking and drinking. Seems like we're not the only ones who got fake IDs. The chatter floats in the air over the soft tune of some 80's music playing on the jukebox.

The sun is going down coloring the sky in beautiful hues. There's a tranquility that comes with it.

"Both of you—" I cock my bottle between the two of them, "—get off my fucking back."

"Can't do." Marie shrugs and dives for the onion rings.

"Then I'm leaving." I'm about to stand up when Marie's next words glue me to my fucking seat.

"Hope is two minutes away."

Right at the moment the door opens. Hope stands there doe-eyed. Black jeans, a maroon top, and Converse. Her hair is pulled in a loose braid with a few strands falling on the sides of her face. Everything is simple about her but to me she's fucking special.

"Here!" Marie excitedly waves at her. Hope and a few others look at us.

With an annoyed sigh, I lean back while Sebastian watches me with a smile. My best friend is having a blast in this feeling-situation I'm stuck in.

The pretty book nerd quickly crosses the room, avoiding the drunk idiots who try to bump into her. I'm seconds away from shoving them right across the dance floor. Fucking assholes.

Since we're sitting in a booth the only seat left is next to me. She takes it after greeting my best friends who send her beaming smiles like they've known her their entire lives.

Then it's finally my turn. "Hi."

"Hi," I say.

My gaze stills over the faint marks around her neck. This is the third fucking time I'm seeing them on her and I'm fucking pissed. Whoever this fucking person is, I will beat the living shit out of them when I get my hands on them.

We're staring at each other, and I don't even want to stop.

"Hope, what would you like?" Marie asks, making Hope look away from me.

"I'm not hungry."

"Bullshit," I murmur.

Sebastian watches me closely, but I don't give a fuck.

Marie moves her basket toward her. "You can have my onion rings." Reluctantly Hope takes one.

Wanting to put an end to this I ask Hope to move so I can get out. At the counter I order French fries and a coke can for her. I pay and turn around only to see Marie waiting for me.

"What is it?" I ask with agitation.

"Nothing." Her smile broadens.

"You look creepy with that smile, Blondie." I check on Hope who's talking to Sebastian. She looks relaxed and even smiles.

Marie sits on the stool while I lean against the counter, waiting for the order.

I feel the heat of Marie's stare on me.

So, I turn and glare at her. "There isn't anything going on between us."

"I didn't say anything." Marie sips her coke bottle. Because of Sebastian, she avoids alcohol, not that she was a big fan of it before. She doesn't even take a beer.

This is my first time drinking in a while, otherwise, I avoid it too, especially in front of Sebastian. Even though he's quit and been through rehab and knows not to dive head-first into his urges. As a friend I don't want to resurrect a part of his life he's buried and moved on from.

Although tonight my head is a mess of thoughts about a girl who crosses my mind so often. Everywhere I go I'm thinking about her. All the fucking time.

She lives in my head.

On instinct, I check up on Hope for the fourth time

"She's fine, Heath," Marie says, noticing me.

I'm getting addicted to her, for fuck's sake.

"Thanks for telling, not that I care," I say in a curt tone.

"I know you don't." Marie pauses. "I think you should ask Hope out."

I almost break my neck when I turn toward her. "Excuse me?"

"You like her, it's so obvious. So why waste time?"

I watch Marie with astonishment. "We're friends, Marie. I don't like her."

She ignores me. "I see the way you look at her."

My eyebrows pinch. "And what fucking way is that?"

"Like she's the only girl you want in the whole wide world."

A dry chuckle leaves my mouth. "She's not my type."

"She's everyone's type," Marie says with confidence, then gets closer to me. "Look around the bar. So many guys are checking her out."

Running a glance at every guy in the bar, my blood boils when I find a number of them staring at Hope who's smiling and sipping Sebastian's orange juice.

Marie pats my shoulder. "Don't worry you'll find your type."

I glare at her. "I don't want a girl."

"Well, good luck dying single then." With a wink she abandons me.

A woman drops off my order. I take it back to our table and put it in front of Hope.

I sit down next to her, and she whispers, "You didn't have to, Heath."

Blood rushes through my veins and heats my skin. In a T-shirt, I'm sweating when the AC is working to its fullest. It's happening just because she said my fucking name.

I gesture toward the food. "Eat."

Hope smiles.

I finish my beer and see Sebastian and Marie grinning at me. I roll my eyes and check my phone to catch up on my emails and other work stuff. I like earning money so I can do things freely. One day I'm going to be as rich as my dad, and none of my wealth will be connected to his.

The music stops and Marie jumps up. "My turn! My turn!" Hurrying toward the jukebox she slides in the quarter. I know the song even before it starts playing.

‘Shut Up and Dance' by WALK THE MOON pours out of the speakers. Marie's favorite song that she's played so many times I've gotten sick of it. Not Sebastian.

Sebastian joins her and they dance in the middle of the floor while laughing at each other. Their moves are absurd, and they look awkward in a group of people who at least know how to dance, but none of that shit matters to them.

Bodies close, and eyes locked, they're lost in each other as the world around them fades away. It's been exactly like that since they met each other. To them only they matter and no one else.

"They're so in love," Hope says.

"Yeah."

I can feel Hope's gaze on me. "Do you believe in love?"

"I don't." Despite those words, I feel a weight on my chest, as if I've lied to her which is confusing.

I meet her gaze. "Do you?"

She shakes her head. "It only exists in books." She's lying. There's a flicker of longing in her eyes as she watches our best friends.

"You're a hopeless romantic. You're supposed to believe in it," I argue, wanting to dig deeper for God knows why.

She eats fries as if she's stalling, but I wait for her.

"I do believe in love, but only when it's in the fictional world. Love feels real and safe between the pages of a book." With a sad smile, she adds, "Marie and Sebastian contradict my belief. I mean just look at them. They are in love, and it exists in the outside world."

She stares at them, and I stare at her.

Her brown eyes are so beautiful when they're filled with emotion, or the way the golden light of the bulbs in the bar gleams in her eyes.

I realize she steals every molecule of my breath and owns every beat of my heart.

I've never been enamored by a girl this fucking much.

At once she glances at me. Her lips part in surprise when she finds me not looking at anyone but her. Clearly, she has no fucking idea what she does to me.

The black in her eyes dilates and a bright flush adorably covers her cheeks.

I can't help myself as I lean down. I press my lips to her ear and pick up her hand from her lap.

My fingers find her pulse that's fluttering under her warm skin. And fuck, she smells like a field of lavender. Lately, it's become my favorite fucking scent.

"How many chapters have you read?"

Seriously. That's what came out of my fucking mouth?

She shivers, then says breathlessly, "Ten."

Good . Seems like I'm not the only one who forgets to breathe in our proximity.

A smile dances on my mouth. "Taking it slow so it lasts longer?"

"Yes."

I breathe and her lavender scent attacks me like rain on a pleasant summer day.

I was right, this girl will ruin me, and I'll let her.

"Text me as you read the books. I want to know everything." I'm desperate.

"Okay."

Pulling back, my eyes find hers. I can see so many emotions crossing through them. Then my gaze drops down to her lips and a desire to kiss them marches above my logical thoughts.

Fuck .

Those lips look fucking inviting.

I've never wanted to kiss someone before, but here I am craving to take one taste.

Lust clouds my mind and body. I can barely see through the haze that blinds me.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

"Heath, what are you doing?" Her sweet, scared voice breaks my train of thought.

Fuck. I don't want to scare her by showing her how badly I want her. I'll never take anything she's not willing to give to me. If she gives me nothing I'll make peace with it and learn to live with it. As long as I'm close to her.

"You're safe with me," I tell her instead, wishing she believed me.

I caress the side of her neck, and she winces.

Fuck.

"I'm sorry," I quickly say and rub circles over the inner side of her wrist.

I keep fucking up, don't I?

It's the last thing I want to do .

I need to be better. I need to be good to her.

"It's all right." She gives me a tiny smile and doesn't pull away from my touch. But I do.

I can never bring myself to hurt her. In fact, how can anyone? She's delicate and pure and there's a monster who's physically assaulting her.

"Another incident with the straightener?" I inquire, keeping my voice quiet so she can't sense the rage flooding through my senses.

"Yes." Her eyes steer away from me as she lies.

I know her because it's so easy for me to read it.

She reads books and I read her.

Squeezing her wrist gently, I nudge her to look at me. "Do you want to leave?"

"Now?"

"Yeah."

"But—"

"Marie and Sebastian won't mind."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Hope finally nods.

We slip out of the booth and bid goodbye to Marie and Sebastian who are dancing to another song now. They don't ask us questions for which I'm grateful. I just want to get out of here with her.

Getting in my car, I drive us around the town as my playlist plays in the background. We sit in silence and it's comfortable.

For her sake, I keep the speed at forty which isn't my usual. I like to drive fast—live on the edge—but then I don't think she'd feel safe with me.

The sky gets darker as I drive us to my secret spot that's slowly becoming our spot. The place where I would be lonely is now accompanied by her presence.

Parking the car near the edge of the hill, I help her out of the car.

She sits on the hood of my car, while I grab something that I specifically bought for her.

Leaning against the side of my car, I look at her. "This is for you."

She gasps and meets my gaze. "It's chocolate!"

"Your favorite kind."

"How do you know?"

"You told me."

"Yes, but I didn't expect you to remember."

I fold my arms over my chest. "I remember everything you tell me. You just have to tell me."

She smiles and it hits me right in the chest. "Thank you."

I stay silent, fully captivated by the sight of her. The way her teeth bite a little chunk as if she's afraid of finishing it, or the way she melts the chocolate in her mouth, devouring every milligram of sweetness in it.

I feel my body heat up like a furnace. I swear I'm fucking sweating through my T-shirt.

For fuck's sake.

And if that's not enough, my dick strains against the zipper of my jeans.

"Fuck," I harshly whisper as I rake a hand through my hair.

Hope quickly looks over. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

She nods, not one bit aware of what she does to me. "Can I ask you something?"

My chest tightens. "Go ahead."

Hope gulps hard. From that alone I know something is bothering her.

Slipping the empty wrapper into her jeans pocket, she says, "Why do you think people don't believe victims?"

My body coils in ropes of tension, making me sit straight. My hard-on is long forgotten.

Well, that worked perfectly.

Lots of answers race through my mind. I need to say the right thing, especially when I already have suspicions about her.

"Maybe because they don't want to come to terms that it's happened."

Her short laugh turns into a sob that shakes her entire body. "That's a good excuse."

My heart beats violently against my chest.

Without thinking, I come around and stand in front of her.

"Hey." I approach her in a gentle voice, keeping my hands to myself.

She quickly wipes away her tears. "I don't want to cry in front of you again."

What fucking nonsense.

I ignore her and take her hands which she keeps using to rub her face. However, her tears don't stop. They fall, fall, and fall.

"I think we're way past that."

"I never wanted to." She lifts her shoulder to wipe her eyes. Before she can. I do it for her.

Using my thumb, I wipe away every tear that falls as she cries hard.

It's breaking my fucking heart.

"It's done now," I reply.

Shaking her head, she sniffles. "I should go."

She starts getting off the hood, but I hold her back by grabbing her thighs.

"Stay." There's no way in fuck I'm letting her leave until I know she's okay.

She chews her bottom lip. "I have to be home by eight."

"Then I'll drop you home by eight." Picking out my phone, I show her the time. "It's six-thirty now. We've got time."

"I don't know."

Even in the dark, I see how miserable and scared she looks. For fuck's sake, she's shivering.

"You're staying." I decide for her.

Unlocking my car, I get her in the backseat, then grab the black blanket from the trunk that I keep with me at times I sleep in my car to avoid going to an empty home. It used to happen a lot last year after Emery's death.

I hand it to Hope and then turn on the AC and music from my favorite band. Coldplay.

Hope bundles up in my blanket and looks so small and vulnerable.

She is trouble to my heart.

She has the power to wreck everything in me with her eyes and I'll be a goner. Yet I can't seem to avoid her. I should. I really fucking should. But I can't.

"Come here." I've lost my fucking mind, but that's not new. I lost my mind the day she collided with me and turned my world upside down with her pretty eyes. At this point, there is no going back. I'm too fucking invested in her. Fuck, I don't even want to go back.

Hope scoots over to me and cuddles in the crook of my arm. Her head rests on my chest and I'm certain she can hear the fast rhythm of my heart.

"Who doesn't believe you, Rose?" I finally ask her when one song ends and another starts playing.

"No one." She holds the edge of the blanket to her chin.

"I'll believe you."

"Because you're my friend?"

"Yes."

Right, of course, how could I forget we're just friends and nothing else?

"So, then who—"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Later then.

"What's the scar-boy up to?"

A laugh bubbles out of her, and the sound is the sweetest fucking thing I've ever heard. It thaws the ice around my heart and makes it warm.

If I could, I'd record her laugh and play it on a loop on nights when death seems like the only option. I believe this sound can make me stay a day more.

Hope elbows me in the ribs playfully. "His name is Harry. You know that."

I do know that, but I enjoy it when she corrects me.

"Harry or scar-boy, what's the difference?"

She gasps as if I've killed her favorite character. " Big difference ," she protests.

"What's happening in there? Tell me."

Just like that, she gives me a run down and I listen to every word. I cling to her like a survivor does to a lifeboat. Midway her voice gets slower and quieter and her body molds more into me.

I bet she's about to sleep on me, and the strangest part is, I'll let her.

"I'll tell you more tomor…" The word barely passes her lips before she dozes off on me.

I stop breathing and my body goes still. I don't want to move a single muscle that'll wake her up.

The low hum of the engine and the melody of the song fill the car.

I check the time and it's 6:45 p.m.

Not two minutes later she jostles awake.

"I'm not asleep." She stirs and looks around with sleepy eyes.

"I never said you are." I scowl as she sits up straight but doesn't move away from me.

"I need to go home."

"It's not eight yet." I gesture to the screen in the front.

"It's better if I leave now."

"Or not."

I draw her back to my chest, surprising the both of us. Then she lies her head on my chest and looks up at me.

"Only for ten more minutes."

I like the sound of it a lot.

She snuggles into the blanket. The temperature isn't cold, but it is for her. The AC is blasting air through all its vents.

I lean over to turn the dial down, but she puts her hand over my arm. I pause.

"You don't need to do that. It's okay."

"You look cold."

She raises the ends of my blanket to her chin. "Your blanket is quite warm, and it smells like you."

I frown. "Is it a good thing or a bad thing?"

She smiles. "Definitely a good thing. You always smell good."

"Good?" I smirk.

She blushes and it's all I need to know.

I move back and relax next to her.

I face her and find her staring at my neck. "What?"

She reaches up and touches me. "You're always wearing this silver chain."

"My sister gave it to me."

Silence extends between us, despite the music and hum of the engine in the background. The world quietens as if to share a moment of silence for the death of the person I loved so dearly.

"I'm sorry about her."

"You already said that to me."

"I know," she whispers. "I can't imagine how it must feel to lose a sibling."

It takes me a whole fucking minute to get the words out. "It feels like the end of the world."

I hear her suck in breath.

After a minute she asks, "What is her name?"

I almost smile. She used is not was . It's a small detail, but I notice it and it makes me feel better—she knew how much it would mean to me.

"Emery," I say, feeling like I'm sharing a piece of myself with her.

"That's a beautiful name."

It indeed is a beautiful name, or perhaps I'm being biased, but I don't fucking care.

"It is." It'll always be.

My throat closes on me. I know it's time to end this topic. It's only been a year but it's fucking hard to move on in life without her by my side.

When I'm six feet above ground, she's six feet under. The distance is small, but enough to keep our worlds separated with no mode of communication. Nothing.

The only thing I believe in is that she's not in pain anymore and is in a better place where no cancer or any form of disease can ever get to her. Even if it comes at the cost of me not seeing her ever again.

She's at peace.

It sounds stupid in my head, so I never share it with anyone. Those idiotic reasons are the only ounce of assurance I have.

I feel a hand rest over mine. Heat sears me like a bullet cuts through the air. A trail of tingles erupts under my skin and burns my arm in a way I've never been burned before. It's a good kind of burn. The kind where I want to keep burning.

"You look sad." Hope drops the blanket and gets closer to me.

"I'm fine," I grumble, feeling vulnerable like she's cut me open and can see everything that I hide from the world—all my fucking emotions on display.

"Is that our way of avoiding a topic?"

"You tell me."

"I don't want you to do that. We're friends. You can talk to me."

I arch an eyebrow. "Kinda hypocritical of you when you don't tell me stuff."

She plays with the ring on my finger. I don't think she's aware she's doing that. But I am. I can barely focus on anything but her and the touch of her cold skin.

"If I could, I would."

"You can."

Shaking her head, she whispers, "I really can't."

I take her cold fingers and squeeze them gently. "I know I said I won't offer you my help but forget about it. I will help you no matter what. If someone is hurting you, I'll hurt them a thousand times worse. I will protect you."

Hope watches me. She watches me for a long time and says nothing—she doesn't have to. Her eyes say it all. She's afraid for me.

Throwing her arms around my neck, she hugs me. This is not the first time and I sure as fuck don't want it to be the last time when she hugs me out of nowhere. She does it without thinking. I'm sure it's the only thing—the best thing—she doesn't think about.

I feel her body shiver in my hold. I wonder if it's because of the AC or something else.

This time I don't waste a second and wrap my arms around her waist and press her body to mine.

Because I just can't fucking help it.

Emotions, feelings, little-thoughts-bugging-my-heart-and-mind, or whatever the fuck you want to call them, surge high to the point I feel my own body vibrating. Whatever she's feeling, I'm feeling it too.

No words get exchanged between us. In silence and cold I hold her in my arms, and she clings to me.

I've never held a girl in my arms before—a girl I have feelings for. She's the first, and surprisingly I want her to be the only one who hugs me, and I hug her back.

"You're a good friend, Heath."

"I could be a better friend."

She pulls back but I hold her tight. Don't fucking go so soon.

There's little distance between our faces. If either one of us moves even a little bit we'll end up kissing.

The world stops moving, and nothing is in my sight except for her. She's the only one I can see.

Her brown eyes bore deep into mine. Her hands are on my chest and mine around her waist.

"You don't need to be a better friend. You make me feel safe and happy. It's more than enough."

"Your standards are pretty fucking low."

A smile tugs on her delicate lips. "I'm fine with it."

I'm not fucking fine with it.

After a moment she adds, "My standards for men are quite high."

My arm tightens around her waist instinctively. "Men?" I croak out in confusion.

She nods. "Yeah. The fictional ones that I think of as a boyfriend or crush."

Boyfriend.

Crush.

I've never hated those two words more in my life before. More so in one sentence.

Annoyance drips from my next words. "So, you have a checklist for your dream boy toy?"

"He won't be my boy toy."

"I see." I don't like this fucking conversation at all.

Hope gets off me and stumbles into the passenger seat. Turning back, she adds, "It's seven-thirty. We should go."

With a clenched jaw and rage bubbling in my head I get in the driver's seat.

On the way, I ask the question because I can't just fucking help it. "So, what do you want your boy toy to be like?"

She turns red. Red like a rose.

Here I thought only I could do that.

"Stop calling him that. He won't be…that."

My hands hold the steering wheel to the point my knuckles turn white. I press hard on the brakes and slowly drive—I don't want to let go of her so quickly.

"Will you just answer the question?" I grit out in frustration.

"Actually, I don't know what I really want."

"You don't have one thing in mind?" I probe the matter like an obsessive dickhead.

"That's the thing, I don't want one thing. There are quite a few." Hope hides her face in her hands. "This is all because of the books. If I hadn't read books I wouldn't have standards in the first place."

Right. Books. Fictional characters. Fictional fucking men.

"You must have a favorite."

"The list is long, Heath."

Whenever she says my name a blissful feeling spreads wings in my stomach. I know it sounds stupid, but it is what it is.

"How long?"

"Very long."

For fuck's sake.

"And we can't spend the whole night together where you tell me about every single one of them." I drawl out.

"Exactly."

I pull up to her street. Just like before, she asks me to stop ten houses away from her house.

I find it odd. But if I ask she'll shut down, and she seems to be in a good mood right now. I'd hate to ruin it.

"At least give me one." I can't help not knowing.

She giggles and I like that look on her so fucking much.

I'm losing my fucking mind.

Turning in her seat she pins me with a serious look. "Promise me you won't mock me about him."

Him. I already hate him.

"Promise," I say very sincerely.

"All right." She says some dude's name. I print it on my mind in red.

With a smile, she gets out and walks down the street without looking back.

I switch off the headlights and tail her.

At this point, I don't even know how fucking deep I am into this feelings-mess.