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“Navarone, you can’t come back into my life after four years and say these things.” My hand covers my beating heart, before laying them both on his strong shoulders, trying to find my balance. He rises, reaches out, and brushes my hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my cheek.
“Allie, I still ...” He leans his body toward me.
I close my eyes, not wanting to admit I need to feel his lips press against mine like they once did.
The door opens, busting our bubble. “Are you okay, Alice?” Nina asks.
Navarone angrily pushes himself off the wall.
“Um, your brother asked me to bring your bag.”
I take it from her before closing the leather jacket. She whispers for me to hear, “Are you okay? Should I call security or ask your punk-ass brother and his friends to come out? That Austin guy sure is scary-cute.”
Smiling, I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Nina, for messing up the evening.” I look angrily at Rone, who’s scowl never falters.
“Don’t be. We raised over five thousand dollars and counting.” She stares up at Rone and blinks a couple of times. Yeah, those dark eyes will do that to you.
“Can you give us a fucking minute?” he asks, trying to hold back his temper.
“You kids go right ahead. Don’t mind me,” she says, giving me a wink and a knowing smirk before closing the door behind her.
I pick up my bag from the ground and head to my car. Rone gets out of my way, and follows me. “Wait for me, babe, damn it let me talk to you.”
I grit my teeth, looking at the black Mustang Dad and I have fixed up over the better part of last year. “I’m not your babe.” Every time he is near me, I tend to lose all perspective. I know where falling for him leads, and it isn’t a fucking happily ever after.
“Leave me alone,” I tell him handing him back his jacket. He reluctantly shrugs it on. I open the trunk and grab an oversized T-shirt before pulling it on over my head. I step out of my heels, throw them in the back, and slip into my Vans. Shit, now we aren’t on semi eye level.
“No, Al, I’m not going to leave you alone. You still belong to me,” he roars. “I wasn’t the one who fucking up and left in the middle of the goddamn tour. It wasn’t over for me. We had a good thing going, and you—”
I stop him before he is able to finish his sentence. “Don’t you dare take a ride down Memory Lane.” I dump my bag in the trunk before slamming it shut. I fumble with the keys. My hands are shaking and the tears I’ve tried not to cry for so long spill over.
“Shit, I didn’t mean ... fuck, will you wait?” His voice is soft while he clutches my arms.
“No, and this has always been your problem. You think you own me because you put a ring on my finger on some drunken night in Vegas.”
He closes his eyes like he’s in pain hearing the truth.
Being a woman on a mission, I steamroll right along. “I won’t wait until you have your shit all figured out.” I tap him in his chest; it’s still as rock hard as it was back then. The keys to my mother’s 1967 black Mustang dangle in my hand.
“I know I fucked up, but I—” He hangs his head.
On instinct, I take a step forward to comfort him. Like I’ve always done when he’s told me about his pain, his deepest fears. I shouldn’t let him back in. Still, I have never seen him this lost for words.
“You’re always on my mind and I wanted—”
I try to drown out what he’s saying by imagining how I’m going to kick his ass. My body is shaking, the tears spilling over and I have the urge to throw up. He grabs my shoulders, and there is pain in his eyes.
“Get your fucking hands off me,” I scream at him, before slapping him hard across the face.
He takes a deep breath, bowing his head. “Guess I had that coming for a long time now,” he whispers, no emotion in his voice.
I cover my mouth with my hands, taking another step toward him but stopping myself from doing something stupid like reaching out to hold him like he once held me when I was broken. Angry tears fall as the memories come rushing back, my makeup probably running down my face.
“Honey,” he croaks, his cheek turning red.
“Let me go.” I turn around and try to open the door—not so easy when your vision is blurred, and your hands are shaking like crazy. “Let me go.”
“Damn it, Allie, look at me.” He takes a deep shuddering breath. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
