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Chapter 14
Pete
Mel is still sleeping soundly. I ease my arm out from under her, pressing a kiss against her temple, and tucking the coverlet up around her. My heart thumps as I look down at her face.
I had the worst fucking dream last night. Mel was having an allergic reaction and died in my fucking arms while I sat there, unable to do anything.
If I closed my eyes right now, I could still see every curve of her face. This was supposed to be a little bit of fun, messing around with a bubbly college student. But I kept seeing her, slowly becoming addicted to being around her, to spending time with her. And now I’m standing here – having almost lost her last night – completely fucking in love with her.
I have no idea how we got here, but I can’t be in love with her. She’s twenty-one. She doesn’t even want to stay in Seattle after graduating next month. She’s going to walk out of my fucking life in the next few months and rip my heart out when she goes.
Quietly dressing, I kiss her forehead again, letting myself out of her apartment. I’ll be calling the restaurant later, organizing for them to pay the out-of-pocket medical expenses.
I’m already in First Hill, so I clear my head by walking to Andy’s condo building, pressing his buzzer until he finally answers, five minutes later.
“This better be a fucking emergency,” he growls.
“It is. Let me the fuck up,” I snap back. The door clicks, and I tug it open, fidgeting with my keys in my pocket as I wait for the elevator.
Andy is waiting at his door when I stride in, his eyebrows shooting up as he takes in my suit from last night.
“Your walk of shame is an emergency?” he asks, closing the door behind him and shoving his hands in the pockets of his sweats. Clearly, I woke him up.
Ignoring his snarky comment, I cross to his wet bar and pour myself a healthy nip of whiskey.
“Dude, it’s seven in the morning,” Andy protests, staring as I swallow the whole thing down, wincing and pouring another nip.
“I spent half the night at the hospital,” I reply. Andy’s eyebrows shoot up, and he crosses the room to me.
“Fuck. Is everyone okay? What happened?” His hand clasps my shoulder.
“Yeah. I took Mel to dinner. I told them about her cashew allergy, and the fucking hostess laughed and told me it wasn’t an issue. Then she took two fucking bites of the salmon and collapsed.”
“Shit. Is she okay?”
“Yeah. I helped her with the EpiPen, and the ambulance got there quickly. She’s back home now.”
I sink onto his couch, and Andy drops into one of the armchairs across from me, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands, staring at me.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. No. I fucking fell in love with her. This is a shit show.”
Andy’s eyebrows raise again, his eyes boring into mine. “You fell in love with her?”
“Yeah.”
He whistles, long and low. “That’s a big deal. Have you ever been in love before? Properly in love?”
“No.”
“So…why is it a shit show?”
“She’s twenty-one. She’s so young. She has no idea what she wants to do with her life, but she doesn’t want to do it here in Seattle.”
Andy pauses, tapping his laced fingers against his lips, still watching me.
“Did you tell her how you feel? Maybe she’ll want to stay.”
“I can’t ask her to throw all her future plans away for me. It’ll just make her hate me in the long run.” Blowing out a breath, I drain my drink, setting the glass down and scrubbing my face. “What the fuck am I supposed to do, man?”
“I think you need to do whatever you feel is the right thing.”
“That’s super fucking unhelpful.”
“Only if you don’t know what the right thing is.”
“It’s super fucking unhelpful.”
“Sorry.”
He doesn’t look very fucking sorry. Flipping him off, I shove to my feet, striding out of his condo, calling a cab. I need to get my car, go home, and shower. I need to think and decide what the right thing to do is, and I need to contact the restaurant and get them to pay Mel’s medical bills.
Mel’s apartment building is looking at me judgingly. I know a building can’t look at you, but it fucking feels like it is. She texted me earlier, telling me she’s feeling much better today. Thank fuck.
I’ve had the day from hell. Productive but shitty. The restaurant will cover any out-of-pocket costs - anything to avoid a lawsuit - and I’m expecting it to come in the post from the hospital in the next day or so. But first, I need to see Mel.
The apartment door opens about thirty seconds after I hammer on it, Mel’s face appearing. She smiles, stepping back to let me in.
“Hey,” she says softly.
Stepping through the door, I close it behind me, my eyes drinking in her face. She looks okay. She’s got her color back.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, following her through to her living room.
“Better,” she calls over her shoulder, sounding cheery. “I had a really good sleep. I didn’t even wake up when you left.”
“No. You were dead to the world.”
She smirks at my word choice, sinking into her couch. I drop into the armchair, and Mel starts in surprise. Usually, I sit next to her on the couch, but I think it’s best if I stay over here for this conversation.
“Is everything okay?” she asks, the smile dropping off her face.
“I’ve been thinking about us today,” I admit, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees, pressing my hands together in front of me.
“About us?” Mel asks, her voice high and curious. “What about us?”
“About what we’re doing.”
“Having fun. Isn’t that what you said?” She’s not looking at me, smoothing her hand over the throw rug beside her, pinching at the fringe.
“Yeah, that’s what I said. That’s what I was thinking about today.”
“Oh? And what did you decide? How serious are we?”
Fucking hell. This is harder than I thought it would be. Swallowing, I press my hands together, linking my fingers and squinting across at her.
“I don’t have an answer for that,” I reply, my voice cracking the slightest amount.
Mel’s eyes fly to mine, locking there and attempting to read my face. Whatever she sees there has her face crumpling.
“You think we shouldn’t see each other anymore,” she guesses, her voice flat.
“I think maybe we should put the brakes on this thing,” I agree tightly, my eyes dropping to watch my twisting fingers. “We are at different stages in our lives. We want different things. We always knew this moment was coming.”
“Yeah,” Mel sniffs. My eyes fly back up.
She’s wiping away tears. Fucking shit. I once thought it was wrong for her to cry, and now I’m the one who is causing her tears. I’m the biggest asshole in the world. She’s Tinker Bell, and I feel like I’ve just ripped off her wings.
“I think you should leave,” Mel whispers, tearing out my heart. Yeah. I think I should. It fucking sucks, but this is the right thing to do. We’re at different stages in our lives. I can’t hold her back. Hold her here. I won’t.
It’s harder than I ever imagined to stand and even harder to walk down the hallway, her sobs echoing and ringing in my ears. I let myself out, closing the door tightly behind me.
My heart feels like it’s in the soles of my ridiculously expensive leather shoes as I close the door of her apartment. It feels so fucking fundamentally wrong to walk away from her, but I don’t know what else to do.
Mel
The door clicks shut, and I let my tears flood out, noisy, heart-breaking sobs ripping out of my chest. Shoving off the couch, I run and throw myself onto the bed, curling around the pillow he slept on last night. It smells like him, and I wail and howl, burying my face into the pillow as I cry out all my emotions.
I knew this wouldn’t last, but I didn’t realize how much it would hurt. Apparently, I wasn’t the tiniest bit in love with Pete - I was completely in love with him, and now he’s stomped on my heart and taken it with him as he left.
I can’t even call anyone about this. Dad would feel uncomfortable talking about a boyfriend, Mom would just tell me I was better off without him, and Bee… Old Bee would be here with wine, telling me I’m better off without him, drinking away my tears. New Bee… I’m too scared to tell her we’ve broken things off. What if she decides she doesn’t want to see me anymore without Pete?
Hugging the pillow tighter to me, I breathe in his scent and keep crying. I don’t have anyone to talk to about it. I have exams next week that I need to focus on to graduate and get the hell out of Seattle, away from Pete and my broken heart.
I’ll lie here until I don’t have any more tears to cry, and then I’ll get up and do some study. Or get drunk. Both are good options.
