Pieces of Summer(6)

She snickers softly.

“They also usually return every year to the same nest and add to the structure, making it stronger, better, bigger,” I go on, watching as the amusement in her eyes turns to seriousness. “Sort of like us right now. We return every year to the same spot on the same day.”

I gesture around to our place—her rooftop. It’s been our place for as long as we’ve known each other. “And every year we get closer to building something stronger, better, bigger…” I let the words trail off when I start feeling stupid.

Suddenly, she launches herself at me, and my back hits the roof as she straddles me, crashing her lips against mine. I must have said something really right.

I don’t stop to ask her anything. I just enjoy the way she’s grinding on my hips, and I kiss her back, wishing we had longer than just the summer to be this way.



“You okay?” Bill asks, snapping me away from memories that are better left forgotten.

Clearing my throat, I nod. I grab one end, and hold my breath, even though I don’t know why. We quickly walk through the doors on the side, and Bill rushes me toward the entrance way where the two eagles will greet people and dismiss them on their way out.

Just like I had once planned…

Trying not to think about it, my eyes scan the place, and a sick feeling consumes me as I straighten back up from putting the statue down. From the retro carpet of the lobby entrance, to the golden hues of the wooden lanes, everything—I mean everything—looks almost exactly like I had once imagined. Other than a few random things here and there. All the important shit is in place though. All the things on my “must-have” list. A list I formed with the girl who taught me how to fuck, love, and hate.

When my eyes land on the oversized disco balls hanging from the ceiling, my stomach twists into a knot. Right above them is a mural on the ceiling—two eagles flying side by side with a city behind them as though they’re escaping together. I drew that…

No. No fucking way. No—

“Mika!” Whit’s shrill pitch slices through my panic, and my eyes dart down just in time to see a curvy, much different body than what belongs to that name. But the face and the eyes… Those eyes are seared into my memory and haunt me every fucking day.

The second those green eyes meet mine, the smile on her face vanishes, and the tray of glasses she’s carrying shatters to the floor. I almost feel sucker punched by life.

Life is an evil bitch.





Chapter 5



MIKA



“Mika!” Whit’s voice has me jerking my head and changing direction, still clutching my tray of pretty wine glasses I was going to put up nice and neat behind the bar.

I smile broadly at her, happy to see her all dressed up and excited about the big opening. Bill moves, drawing my attention, and my eyes land on a set of devastatingly familiar blues while my world goes crashing down and shattering.

No…. that’s my wine glasses that just crashed down and shattered.

My empty hands stay suspended in the air as all the air is sucked from my lungs, and I stare at the impossible fucked up sense of humor life has as it stares right back at me. Maybe I’m seeing things… Maybe he’s just dangerously similar…

If it’s really him, age has certainly treated him well. His shoulders are broader, his jaw is stronger, he’s definitely taller, and his body… I wish he’d gotten ugly. Life would be better. Why the hell is he here? No. No. It can’t be him.

Considering the hard, cold glare he’s giving me, he knows me. No stranger hates someone that passionately. Even though he has no right to freaking hate me. I’m the one who was hurt, lied to, betrayed…

Fidgeting nervously, I tug at the bottom of my shirt when I see Whit staring at me in confusion. That’s when he walks up and wraps his arm around Whit’s waist, still glaring into my eyes like he’s trying to silence me.

“You okay, Mika?” Whit asks.

Still in an eye-lock, I shudder, feeling stupid, embarrassed, and very freaking pissed off. He doesn’t live here. Why the hell is he standing in here right now with his arm wrapped around the model?

My heart does the whole slapping me in the face thing, reminding me it’s sick of being played with, so I manage to look away. Tugging at my shirt again, I look over at Whit.

“Sorry. He… just reminded me of someone I used to know. It surprised me. That’s all.”

Feeling his eyes burning against my face, I kneel down to start putting the larger broken shards on the forgotten tray, ignoring the fact the pieces aren’t broken in the same sizes. I resist the urge to spend forever grinding them into such small fragments you wouldn’t be able to tell they’re not the same size. The urge gets stronger, but I manage to ignore it, since it’s not overwhelming.

“Let me help,” Whit offers.

“I’m fine,” I say quickly—too quickly. “You should probably start checking the music lineup and such.”

I don’t look up. I can’t. This is hell. Actually, this is a level somewhere beneath hell. How did this even happen?

“Want to help me grab that last statue right quick? The doors are opening in less than an hour.”

Bill’s voice is like a hammer to my ears, because all my senses are hyper-alert right now. My heart is slamming against my ribs, because it’s exploding over and over instead of beating. I want to run away, hide, scream, cry… I want to do it all at once, but I’m stuck on the ground, picking up pieces of broken glass that poetically remind me of the pieces of my heart I was once left with because of the same man.

My eyes lift ever so slightly to see him glaring down at me still, and I cut my gaze away.

“Babe, are you okay?” Whit asks him.

I don’t bother looking up. I concentrate on the mess I made thanks to the jerk in the room. A surprising cry of pain escapes my lips before I realize it, and I curse when I see blood pouring from my finger. Damn it.

“Shit! Mika, let me help. Chase, get some towels. Hurry.”

There’s too much blood to put my finger in my mouth unless I sprout fangs and turn into a vampire so I can enjoy it. It’s a small cut, but I’m bleeding like an alcoholic on blood thinners. Shit. My blood pressure must be ridiculous right now.

“Chase! What the hell? Why are you just staring? Get some towels.”

My eyes come up just as he rips his gaze away from me, and he stalks out the entrance, pushing through the doors so hard the glass on them rattles on impact.

“What the fuck, Chase?!” Whit calls after him.

But he doesn’t slow down. He gets in his truck, slams the door, and the beast of an engine roars as he slams it in reverse and cuts it back, speeding off like hell is on his heels.

“What the hell just happened?” Whit asks me.

“Guess he doesn’t like blood,” I mumble.

My eyes land on the lonely eagle by the entrance, and I swear it’s a bittersweet symbolic statement. This isn’t how my new life was supposed to go. It was supposed to read the end.





Chapter 6



CHASE



I’m drinking a beer when Whit walks in and slams the door.

“Where the hell have you been?” she barks.

I ignore her while staring at the TV, still drinking.

“Damn it, Chase, what the hell is going on? Two days ago you acted like you saw a ghost, then you ran off. Now you’re just sitting here after not calling me or coming home for two days?”

I start to point out it’s my home, not hers, but I think I’ve pissed her off enough. It’s not like I foresaw my worst fucking nightmare coming true.

“Just needed to clear my head,” I say before taking another sip.

“From what? First you act all kinds of skittish about the bowling alley, then you act like you’re going to tear Mika’s head off for no damn reason, and suddenly you disappear while she’s bleeding? I’m lucky she didn’t just fire me on the spot!”

I disappeared because I was seconds from dropping down and pinning Mika to the floor. Seconds from asking her a thousand questions about what the fuck she was doing in this town. Seconds from carrying her out of there and taking her to the ER for a simple cut on her finger.

Seconds from losing my motherfucking mind. That’s what I was.

“Getting really sick of the silent treatment. Talk or I freaking walk.”

As shitty and selfish as it is, I can’t let Whit walk. I’ll go straight to Mika’s if I don’t have an anchor holding me back. No way can I face her. No way do I want to get sucked back into a steel fortress of fucking misery after finally escaping.

What the hell is she doing here? Why did she do it? Why the bowling alley?

“Do you know Mika or something? She literally wouldn’t speak to anyone after seeing you, and she barely even came out on opening night after you left. She refused to come in the next day, and she’s been incredibly excited about this. Why do I get the feeling there’s something going on between you two? Oh, I know why. Because you both acted shocked to see each other. As though you knew each other in a past life or some shit.”

It feels like a past life. That’s for damn sure.

“I think she used to vacation here in the summers or something. Look, Whit, I just hate that bowling alley. I’ve told you this before.”