Where the Night Ends Page 24

  I told my mom I wouldn’t be in until tomorrow, so I’m not surprised when I arrive at her house to find her car gone. I know she’s at work and probably won’t be home until morning. Me being here when she arrives I’m sure will be a welcome surprise.

  I don’t get nearly enough time to visit and am ashamed to admit that even though I am just an hour away, this is the first time I’ve been home since Christmas. Considering it’s now June, that’s saying something.

  Don’t get me wrong, I miss my mom something fierce, but being here without Courtney and Bree—without Sebastian—I don’t know, it just feels wrong somehow. Like I’m an outsider now looking in.

  I let myself inside the house and carry my suitcase to my old bedroom. Because I’ve opted to take some summer courses I only have two weeks off, only one of which I plan to spend here.

  I was only able to get a few days off from work and while I know my mom was hoping for more time, a part of me is glad this is all I can give her. I mean, of course, I’d rather be here spending time with my mom than making coffees for people who don’t even have the decency to look up from their phones when placing their orders, but being here brings too much to the surface. There are too many feelings and memories tied to this place. The less time I’m here, the better.

  The instant I push my way inside my small ten by ten childhood bedroom I’m hit with a wave of nostalgia.

  Of course, my mom hasn’t touched it since I left, wanting to keep it exactly the same so when I come home on break I have my old room to come back to.

  Looking around the small space, I take in a deep breath and let it out slowly, my eyes stopping on a picture still hanging from the mirror on my dresser. I know every single detail of the picture, but it doesn’t stop me from dropping my suitcase on the bed, crossing the room and pulling it down, holding it gently between my fingers.

  God, I remember that day so vividly. The picture is of Courtney, Ant, Sebastian, and me. We’re all clad in swimsuits standing next to the lake behind Sebastian’s house, wide smiles on all of our faces. Every set of eyes is looking directly at Bree who was operating the camera, except for one person whose eyes are trained directly on me like they always seemed to be.

  My chest swells and a thick knot forms in my throat. I quickly toss the photograph onto the dresser and walk directly out of the room. Knowing I can’t just sit here and dwell in the ghosts of my past, I grab my car keys from where I left them on the coffee table and head outside to where my beat-up Jeep is sitting in the driveway.

  I really don’t have any place specifically to go, I just know I need to go somewhere. So when I climb into Sara Beth and throw her into drive, I have absolutely no destination other than away from here. And that’s okay with me.

  After thirty minutes of being on the road, I’ve only managed to sour my mood further. Making the mistake of driving past the high school and then the restaurant we all used to go to every Friday after football games, I let the memories wash over me, a part of me longing for a past I know I will never get back.

  I don’t know at what point I end up veering onto the winding wooded road toward Sebastian’s house or why, but once I’ve started that way I can’t bring myself to turn back. Even though I know he doesn’t live there anymore, driving past the expansive property still gives me chills, like a part of him still exists there.

  Forcing myself to turn around several miles after passing Sebastian’s, by the time I make it back into town the sun is starting to disappear over the horizon, casting an orange glow over the streets and buildings.

  I start to head back toward my mom’s house, but then my stomach lets out a loud grumble and only then do I remember I haven’t eaten today. And while I’m sure my mom has food at the house, I’ve been craving a pretzel bun sandwich from Perfect Pita for weeks, and since it’s just a couple blocks from where I am, I decide to make a quick left and head back that way.

  When I pull up outside of the small sandwich shop on the corner, I park my Jeep at the back of the near empty lot and make my way toward the entrance. As soon as I reach for the door handle an odd sensation washes over me, and without thinking I look up, my stomach bottoming out the moment that I do.

  At first, I think I’m seeing things that there’s no way he could be here right now. But then he turns his face upward to assess the couple in front of him and a wave of nausea washes over me.

  Sebastian.

  I’m not sure how long I stand here, my hand suspended in mid-air but never actually reaching anything. I watch as he fiddles with his phone, swiping his fingers across the screen while he waits his turn, completely unaware of where I stand just a few short feet from him.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve felt as torn as I do in this very moment. Every part of me wants to go to him, wants to open this door and run into his arms—a place where I know everything will feel right. The other part of me knows I can’t do that.

  We’ve come so far and while I still think about him every day, I know that talking to him, looking at him, seeing that boyish smile and feeling the burn of his hazel eyes again will only upset the very delicate balance I have between my head and my heart. And I don’t think I can do that to myself—not again.

  So instead I just watch him through the thin pane of glass that separates us. Him unaware that I’m even here. Me all too aware, able to feel his presence in every single pore of my body.

  I take a moment to appreciate him. His broad shoulders and massive biceps, the way the muscles strain against his gray t-shirt—no doubt from countless hours of conditioning, practice, drills, and games. His blond hair is covered by a backward baseball cap, and even from here I can see the week-old scruff he’s sporting.

  I swear to god he gets more attractive with every minute that passes. Seeing him on television, clad in his football gear, has nothing on seeing the real thing up close and personal. He really is a sight to behold.

  It’s so hard to believe that once upon a time I called him mine. Of course, that seems like another lifetime altogether. A time that would probably feel like it belonged to someone else entirely if it weren’t for the pull in my chest—because despite everything that has happened my heart still knows where it belongs.

  I watch him for several more seconds, a deep sense of longing lodged in my stomach. It takes everything in me not to pull that door open but somehow, someway, I manage to find the strength to slowly back away.

  By the time I reach my Jeep my hands are trembling, and I feel like I’ve just run a marathon rather than walked just a few yards. My heart is beating so rapidly that I can feel my pulse pounding against my neck.

  I take several deep breaths, slowly pulling air in through my nose and blowing it out of my mouth.

  It’s for the best, I try to reason with myself. And while I know I’m right, it doesn’t make the act of not going to him any easier.

  I don’t make any attempt to leave the parking lot. While I blame it on the fact that I’m still too shaken up to drive, I know it’s really because I want to see him again. Even if he doesn’t know I’m here, I just want to look at him for a moment longer and wish that things could be different.

  The longer Sebastian is in the restaurant, the more my inner battle rages and the harder it becomes to just sit here and do nothing when I know I could be seconds away from feeling his arms wrapped around me if I would just move.

  My eyes stay glued to the front door, not once looking away. I’m so scared I might miss him that after some time I find myself wondering if I’ve even blinked. Then the gears in my mind start to shift, and I’m left arguing with myself for the next twenty minutes on whether or not that was actually even Sebastian inside or if it was someone who favored him and my eyes simply saw what they wanted to.

  In fact, I’ve nearly convinced myself of this when he finally exits the restaurant several minutes later, hands shoved deep in his pockets and his face turned down toward the ground.

  My breath quickens with each step he ta
kes in my direction, and I swear I’m on the verge of hyperventilating by the time he rounds on a small sports car that I’ve not seen before, not feet from where I’m sitting. I watch him hesitate at the driver’s side door, and then he turns in my direction.

  I suck in a breath and hold it, afraid that even breathing will give away my position. Even though it’s dark at this point and I know he can’t see inside my Jeep, I still slink down in my seat.

  He looks around, his eyes only grazing over my Jeep for a split second before he slowly shakes his head, looking a little unsettled, before finally climbing into his car.

  I watch him drive away after the longest minute of my life, and the instant he does I’m pissed at myself. I punch the steering wheel, cursing at the top of my lungs at how stupid I am. He was right there—right in front of me—and I just let him walk away.

  So what if things won’t change? So what if it would be hard to say goodbye? Wouldn’t it be worth it to see him, to hear his voice, to know that he’s doing well? Wouldn’t that have offered me some semblance of peace amongst the chaos?

  Completely abandoning the reason I came here, I’m finally back on the road. Courtney’s voice sounds through the phone held to my ear as she reassures me that I did the right thing.

  I don’t know if it was necessarily right. I mean, it sure as hell doesn’t feel right, but I do agree with Court when she says that there’s nothing good that could have come from me going to him.

  “I mean, think about it, Tess,” she continues. “Even if things were to go the way you wanted and you two would’ve ended up hanging out, where would that have left you tomorrow? Or the next day? Or the next? You’ve fought so hard to find your place without him.”

  “I know. I know.” I let out an audible sigh, wishing the heaviness in my chest would lift so I could breathe without feeling like there’s a thousand pounds weighing me down.

  “Look, you’re home right now, in the place where nearly every memory you have together is tied to. It’s only natural that it feels harder when you’re there. And then there’s knowing that he’s in town, too. Just know that if you go to him, you’ll hate yourself for it tomorrow, and you know I’m right.”

  “You just love saying you’re right.” I chuckle, finally letting go of some of the tension winding tightly inside of me.

  “Lord knows I don’t get to say it nearly enough,” she quips. “Just hang tight. You got two days with your mom and then you’ll have my ass to distract you. And you know how good I am at that,” she promises mischievously.

  “I don’t know if I’m down for your idea of distraction,” I object. “But I really can’t wait to see you.”

  “Me too. Don’t forget you’re picking me up from the airport at…”

  “8 a.m,” I cut her off. “Yes, I know.”

  “Don’t be late, bitch,” she teases.

  “Late is not in my vocabulary,” I spit back.

  “I’ll see you then,” she says before quickly adding, “but if you need me between now and then just call me. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

  “You have my word.”

  “Love you, Tess.”

  “Love you, too.” I smile before ending the call just as I pull up outside of my mom’s house.

  Two Years Later…

  “Come on, dude. Wake the fuck up.” It’s the first thing I hear the moment the morning sun stings my eyes. Throwing my arm over my face, I groan, stretching out my legs.

  “What time is it?” I grumble, scratching my head as I peer up at Wilson, LSU’s star running back and one of my closest friends.

  We were lucky enough to get bunked together my sophomore year after my first roommate dropped out and moved back home. Wilson was just a freshman then, but we hit it off instantly. Since then we’ve pretty much been inseparable. He, like me, likes to play hard and work even harder, putting everything he has onto the field.

  The one glaring difference between us is his drive to play ball professionally whereas I’ve chosen to walk away from it all together. I lost my love for the game a long time ago, and no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t seem to get it back. So I rode out my scholarship and declined to speak to any reps from the NFL when they came knocking.

  Will thought I had completely fucking lost it. He’s been dreaming of playing pro since he was little and can’t see a world where someone else might not want the same thing. He’ll no doubt go in the first round of the draft next year barring any crazy injuries. There’s no way he won’t. The kid is fucking magic on the field.

  “It’s fucking late, that’s what time it is,” he says, throwing a pair of dress pants over his shoulder. “Only you would be late to your own graduation.”

  It isn’t until then that I remember what today is.

  “Fuck,” I groan, rolling to my side, the entire bottle of whiskey I killed last night burning the pit of my stomach.

  Then I remember that my parents’ flew in this morning, or at least they were supposed to, and my stomach lurches for another reason entirely. I haven’t been home since two summers ago when I had yet another blow up with my father and he ended up kicking me out of his house.

  Since then my relationship with my parents’ has only gotten worse. Quite frankly, I’m surprised they even want to come to my college graduation at all. At this point, I think our relationship is beyond salvaging, so I’m not really sure why they even care. Then again, I’m sure it’s nothing more than to save face. They’ll take pictures and smile so they can brag to all their friends about what amazing parents they are.

  Fucking pathetic.

  “You can always stay here with me.” I hear a female voice seconds before the bed shifts and an arm drapes over me from behind.

  I glance over my shoulder to see bright green eyes, a pretty face, big red curls cascading over her slender shoulders, and while she’s beautiful, I’m flooded with the same sensation I get every time I wake up next to a different woman—guilt and disappointment.

  I slide her arm off of me and quickly sit up, holding the sheet in place as I do because I’m very certain I have no clothes on underneath. I look up to find Will fighting a smile as he slinks out of the room and into the adjoining bathroom, shaking his head.

  “You better hurry the hell up!” he calls over his shoulder, laughter in his voice, seconds before the bathroom door slams shut, vibrating the wall.

  “Last night was amazing,” redhead croons as she slinks up behind me, pressing her bare chest against my back.

  “Yeah, it was,” I grumble out, running my hand over my face as I lean forward, elbows on my knees, still feeling the effects of the alcohol from last night.

  When a few of the guys from the team, most of which are graduating today, suggested we spend the night at the bar just off campus celebrating, it sounded like an amazing idea. Now, well, now I’m wishing like hell I had taken it a bit easy. At this rate, I’ll be showing up at graduation still drunk.

  Glancing at the clock, I stand abruptly the second I register the time, the sheet falling from my lap. I hear an audible purr behind me but am too frantic to pay her even a second of attention. The ceremony starts in just over an hour, and I have to be there thirty minutes prior.

  Racing around my room, I slip on a pair of boxers as I quickly gather the suit I plan to wear today, draping it over the back of the desk chair before turning to usher redhead out the minute she’s dressed. I thank her for an amazing time, like I have so many other women before her, not even bothering to try to remember her name; I know I won’t ever see her again.

  I’ve watched countless girls walk out of my dorm room over the last four years, but every time there’s only one girl I see… Tess.

  I can’t imagine she’d be proud of the man I’ve become or the fact that I’ve slept my way through half the student body just trying to fuck her out of my heart and my brain. It hasn’t worked yet and I doubt at this point it ever will, but it doesn’t stop me from trying.

  Will ex
its the bathroom, successfully pulling me from my thoughts. I blink, realizing I’ve been standing in the same spot looking at the back of the door where redhead just exited for who knows how long.

  I shake my head, quickly slipping past Will and into the bathroom. Hitting the shower and then shaving faster than I probably ever have in my entire life, I re-emerge within twenty minutes looking a lot more put together than I feel.

  Will is decked out in a navy suit, his dark skin accentuating the white collar of his dress shirt making him look like he’s already a rich NFL star. Hell, with the traction he’s received already he might as well be.

  “Bout time. You ready?” he asks, strapping a thick banded gold watch around his wrist before looking in my direction.

  Even though he doesn’t graduate until next year, he and the entire rest of the team, along with the coaches are coming to the graduation ceremony to support their graduating teammates.

  “As I’ll ever be.” I let out a breath, waiting for Will to slip on his dress shoes before following him out into the hallway.

  ***

  Graduation goes by in a blur of smiling faces and handshakes. I swear one minute the ceremony is starting and the next I’m climbing into my car, tossing my cap and gown into the passenger seat, getting ready to head to the graduation luncheon.

  I didn’t speak to my parents’ during the ceremony, but at least they showed up. I honestly don’t expect to see them at lunch, and I can’t say I’m upset by it. They’d only end up making this day about my failures, about what I didn’t accomplish that I should have.

  I mean, fuck, I just graduated with a degree in Sports Medicine. Most parents would be satisfied with that, happy even, but not my parents’. More specifically, not my father. If it was up to him I would’ve followed in his footsteps—attended an Ivy League school and took over the practice from him someday.