Page 32 of Burning Bridges Duet

Doing the choreography messed with my head, and now it’s pounding again. Earlier, I quickly dismissed the idea of going to work out or dance in the afternoon after class. Instead, I decide to take it easy and rest, hoping that my headache will go away soon. As soon as the class ends, I gather my things and leave the room, looking forward to some peace and quiet.

As I make my way to my car, my phone chimes with a new message in the group chat that Chase created yesterday.

Chase

Hey, gorgeous, feeling better today? How’s your head?

It was better until I had to perform in choreography class. Now it’s pounding again. How are you guys?

Jaxon

You should’ve stayed home today.

Ryder

Did you at least get a good grade for the assignment?

What do you think?

Ryder

Never doubted you. Want to celebrate with a latte? I’m singing in 10 minutes at Blooms, but River is here too and won’t talk to you for a while.

River

Ha-ha.

Sure, on my way, but just for a bit. Can’t wait to hear you sing again.

I walk into the café, and my face lights up as I see Ryder playing the guitar in the same corner as last time. River turns and smiles, waving at me as I approach them. He hands me an iced latte, and I thank him before kissing his cheek. He blushes, and I giggle before sitting down next to him. I look up at Ryder, who is singing “Collide” by Howie Day, and once again, I’m fangirling hard.

“So good to see you smile, beautiful,” River whispers in my ear, his hand finding the back of my neck and massaging it. I let my eyes fall closed and let out a groan. His hands are magic. When I open my eyes again, he’s looking at me with a smile, and I can feel my cheeks heating up.

“How are you doing, River?” I ask him.

“Couldn’t be better,” he replies, licking his lips. I follow the movement with my eyes before realizing that I’m staring at his mouth and quickly turn to look at Ryder. He’s watching us, smirking while singing, so I look down at my latte, trying to compose myself. What am I doing? I’m in way over my head.

River is still massaging my neck when I stand abruptly.

“I’m sorry, but my head still hurts, and the music isn’t helping. Plus, I have a lot of homework to catch up on, so I should go. It was good seeing you both, though,” I say, trying to sound as polite as possible.

River frowns, but I don’t give him the chance to respond before turning to Ryder, giving him a quick wave, and rushing out of the café. As I make my way back to my car, I feel a pang of guilt for leaving so quick, so I quickly send a message to the group chat.

Sorry to rush out like that. My head is pounding, and I have a lot of studying to do. Thanks again for the latte, River, and the music, Ryder. Catch up with you all soon.

I start the car and head back to my apartment, feeling a mix of relief and sadness. Having a crush on four men is one thing, but acting on those feelings is another matter entirely. I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts, and focus on getting some rest and tackling my homework.

After getting home, I take a shower, then change into comfy grey sweatpants, pulling up the left side so that my leg is bare from the knee down, and Chase’s hoodie on top. I decide I’m only going to give it back to him once it doesn’t smell like him anymore. Then I’ll wash it and return it like I forgot about it. Good plan, right? So not desperate.

I leave my hair loose and let it air dry while I do my homework and study for more than three hours. I took a Tylenol when I got home, but my head is hurting again, so I decide I’ve done enough for today. I get into bed and want to watch a movie, but The Notebook is recommended on the on-demand menu, making me feel a pang of loss. This was my mom’s favorite movie, and she made my dad watch it a thousand times until he loved it as much as she did. It used to be a comfort movie for me, but I don’t think I can ever watch it again.

Grief is a bitch. It comes in waves, unexpected and triggered by the smallest of things, throwing you off course completely. I turn off the TV and try to calm myself down, following the breathing exercises my therapist taught me to help with panic attacks, but it’s not working.

As I try to compose myself in the silence of my apartment, I hear the sound of a door closing and footsteps coming from Gunner’s apartment next door. I shouldn’t rely on him as a crutch, especially since he’s already dealing with my nightmares, but the temptation of not being alone right now is too strong. So I get out of bed, open my door, and knock on his. He opens it and looks down at me, leaning against his doorframe with his arms crossed.

“Hey, Livy. You alright?”

“Sure,” I say, trying to smile and taking in his outfit. He looks like he just got back from a workout, wearing basketball shorts and a tank top that clings a bit to him because he’s sweaty. It’s a good look on him.