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Asher
With every shot of tequila, Eli’s words dim just a little more. Eventually, I won’t hear them, right? Or they won’t hurt so much?
How did we get here? We still have a little over two weeks left to figure it out. Wasn’t that the plan? To find a way to make this work once we left here? Was it just me?
Was he planning to go back to his life in LA, back to ignoring my existence?
As I rub at the pang in my chest, the redhead from earlier comes over and tries to sit in my lap.
“Nope,” I say too loudly, but I don’t care.
“Are you sure? I promise I’m a good time.” She puts her hand on my knee and starts sliding it up my thigh, but I shove it off. My dick tries to retreat into my body at the thought of her touching me.
“Not interested.” The world is starting to spin, and my lips are numb, but Eli’s face is still clear as fuck. That goddamn tear on his cheek. He told me to go. Last time, I didn’t give him an option, yet we have the same outcome.
Stumbling to my feet, the world tilts and shifts under me, but I find a quiet spot and lay down, just until the spinning stops, but the world goes black.
My head is pounding, and my mouth tastes like shit. When did this bed get so hard and lumpy? And why is it so fucking bright?
I lift a hand to cover my eyes, but something scratches my arm. Jerking my eyes open, I’m looking at the underside of a bush. What the fuck? Looking around, I’m definitely on the beach, and I’m not sure why. What is happening?
Forcing my body to move, and with a lot of cursing, I roll out from under the bush and sit up. My stomach turns, and I lean over to puke stomach acid onto the sand. Oops. Now my mouth really tastes like shit, but the pressure in my head is a little better. Where is Eli?
Once my body settles, I struggle to my feet and search my memory for how I ended up here.
I head toward one of the piers and hope it’s the right one.
Eli and I went to the bonfire, he was super antsy. A redheaded woman who I can’t remember if she told me her name since I wasn’t paying attention, and Eli danced with that fucking bartender. We fucked against a building, I have no idea which one, and . . . oh fuck. His parents.
His dad told me to leave thismistakebehind.
Eli told me to go.
Running now, powered by the fear of losing him again, I find our villa quickly.
“Eli!” I yell as I open the door. The dining area is empty, so I hurry to the bedroom, but he’s not there, and the bed is made.
“Eli!” I tear into the bathroom, but he’s not there either. Shoving the back door open, I yell his name again outside, searching everywhere, but he’s gone.
Panic is taking over, making my hands shake, and my stomach recoils. On his side of the bed, I jerk open the drawers, only to find them empty.
“Fuck!” I scream into the empty space, dropping to my knees and pulling my hair. “Elliot!”
I can’t lose him again. How am I supposed to function without him when he’s the air I need to live? I just got him back.
Digging into my sandy pocket, I pull my phone out and find his number. It goes straight to voicemail.
“Fuck!” I pace the bedroom, slapping the phone against my palm. I go onto Instagram and find Jordan’s message thread.
ASHER: Where is he?
The three dots dance on the screen for a second, disappear, then come back. I hold my breath as I wait for her answer.
JORDAN: Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you. If he wants to talk to you, he will.
ASHER: His parents are feeding him poison and trying to pass it for truth. I need him.
JORDAN: I’m sorry.
