Wait (Bleeding Stars #4) Read online

  She stood there.

  So clearly confused.

  Torn.

  A hundred different emotions played out on her unforgettable face like the raging wind.

  Whipping and lashing and inciting.

  I wanted to reach out and calm it.

  “Wait,” I whispered again. I ducked down to bring us level. Coming closer. Because there wasn’t anything on earth that could keep me away.

  Her eyes pinched closed, her voice a rasp. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” I asked, edging even closer, backing her toward the wall. Leaning in, I let myself get lost in the suggestion of sun and warmth. In orange and light and something so fucking sweet and intoxicating I wanted to bury my nose in her hair.

  In her skin.

  To fall in and disappear.

  Forever.

  Tears pooled in her eyes. She blinked them open. “Don’t do this.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The words came out a rough murmur.

  She managed a scoff and a slight shake of her head. “Yes, you do. You’ve always known the way you affect me. The control you have. Don’t play games with me, Austin.”

  “Seems to me, that’s the only thing we’ve ever done. You’re the one who ran, Edie, and you took what was left of my heart with you when you did.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.

  That had been like our fucking mantra.

  Don’t get too close.

  Don’t say it out loud.

  Don’t touch.

  “You did this.” Her whispered accusation hung between us, a violent shot to the simmering air.

  Guilt climbed my throat, tongue going dry. “You didn’t stay long enough to let me say I was sorry.”

  She turned her face away, chin trembling, before she seemed to gather strength, the courage to look back at me. “You know it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. I had to go. You knew I couldn’t stay. Not when he knew.”

  Anger pulsed, and I gritted my teeth, forcing down my rage for that bastard.

  Focused on what mattered and not what I couldn’t control.

  Her.

  I edged closer and she inched back. She plastered herself up against the wall like she were hoping it might open up and swallow her whole.

  My fingertips grazed her cheek, so soft, my body a wisp from hers. Sweet tension throbbed in the air, so dense I swore it slowed our movements. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

  She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. A disorder of emotions spun around us. “But you did.” Pain echoed through her watery confession. “You hurt me so much.”

  “Edie.”

  Regret.

  Longing.

  Sorrow.

  They twisted through her name like the whirlwind she incited.

  She shook her head. “Why are you here, Austin? In my town. Have you been looking for me?” Dismay laced the last.

  I almost wished I could say yes.

  Pretty damned sure that would be the correct answer.

  God knew my heart had been.

  I cleared my throat. “No, Edie. I left L.A. three years ago. I’ve been traveling up and down the coast since.”

  Guarded, her gaze wandered, taking me in. Searching. It took me only a second to realize what she was searching for. Like she was doing her best to see beneath my skin to what was polluting my veins. To discover my demons.

  It wasn’t a subject I liked returning to.

  But it was a part of me.

  Who I was.

  A piece I was always going to battle.

  The words were tight. “I’ve been clean for more than three years, Edie.”

  Emotion raced across her features. Quick surprise and sweeping relief.

  And then I saw it. Glimpsed the flickers of young love this gorgeous girl had once felt for me.

  Her tongue darted out and swiped along her plush bottom lip.

  Fuck.

  I wanted to kiss her.

  “I worried about you so much.” Her words were wispy and hushed. Like the admission was her greatest secret. Her biggest pitfall.

  Need clawed at my senses. I was fighting desperately not to reach out and take her. Struggling not to give in and tug her body against mine.

  To wrap her up and take her whole.

  She released a throaty sigh, breath basking me in warmth.

  In unrelenting light.

  My voice came gruff, and I got closer, my mouth a breath from hers. “I worried about you, too. Too much. Every day. Every night. I missed you so fucking bad it nearly killed me, wondering what happened to you. Where you went. If you were okay.”

  Sorrow creased the corners of her eyes.

  We swam in it. Black, dangerous waters lapped at our chins. Threatening to pull us under. Her light battled against my dark. That dark, dark storm that was gaining speed.

  She seemed to shake herself from its grips, both relieved and pained to redirect our conversation. Her voice took on a new edge of desperation. “Do you…do you talk to my brother?”

  On a heavy sigh, I gave a reluctant nod.

  Shit. Did she think this topic would be any easier?

  “Yeah.”

  “How is he?”

  “I think he’s good, Edie. But honestly? I don’t really know. Told you I left home three years ago. Only keep up through texts and letters, mostly with my brother. But I do know so much has changed. Things with the band have gotten…crazy big.”

  Her nod was sad. “He has to hate me.”

  My brow pinched, words nothing less than a growl. “He doesn’t hate you, Edie. How can you say that?”

  A bitter sound seeped from that pretty mouth, the sound such a contradiction to the softness of her face. “How could he not? I just…left.”

  This time I did grab her, both hands on her face, forcing her to look at me.

  Her heat was nothing less than a shock directly to my heart.

  Energy and light.

  I wheezed.

  Her expression froze in surprise.

  I forced the words through gritted teeth. “No one hated you, Edie. Sure. He was fuckin’ terrified when you took off, not knowing what went down.”

  “Did you—”

  “Tell him?” I shook my head, exasperated. Trying not to be offended. It wasn’t like I didn’t deserve her distrust. “Of course I didn’t tell him, Edie. Pretended like I didn’t know a thing when he demanded answers. Clearly he knew something bad happened for you to run like that, but he didn’t blame you.”

  Maybe Ash didn’t know it, but it was me who was to blame.

  Her mom, too, for acting like she understood when she didn’t have a fucking clue.

  But the real blame?

  That trophy went to Paul.

  Motherfucking bastard.

  Anger flashed.

  Should’ve just ended him.

  Sacrificed it all to wipe that stain from Edie.

  To finally cleanse her of the lingering fear.

  Now the only thing I could do was hope the asshole was still rotting in prison like the scum he was.

  Her mouth quivered at the corner. “I hate that I left him with so many questions. I can’t even imagine what he thinks.”

  She laughed, but it was in her own disbelief. “I wrote him one letter. Gave him a bunch of flimsy excuses for leaving without a trace, told him I was out finding myself.”

  “Did you, Edie? Find yourself?”

  She sucked in a breath, mouth parted as she stared at me through the haze, that sweet, good honesty seeping free. “I just got more lost.”

  This. Girl.

  I wanted to crawl inside her safety. Fill her up with mine.

  Silence stretched between us, the stillness riddled with everything left unsaid.

  With everything left undone.

  Energy lifted and swelled. Trembled through the chaotic air. Tugging and pulling and pushing at us from all sides.

  Co
nsuming.

  That connection I’d only ever felt with her.

  Fear snaked across her features. I was sure it was then she realized nothing had changed.

  We were still bound.

  Tied in an inexplicable way.

  “You ran.” It was a gruff murmur, my fingertips moving to flutter along the sharp angle of her jaw.

  Because God. I just needed to touch.

  Her brow pulled with uncertainty, words soft and sad. “It sounds to me like you’ve been running, too.”

  “Yeah. I’ve been running.” I squeezed her a little harder. “And I don’t believe for a minute it’s a coincidence I found you, either.”

  She winced. “You know it’s too late for us.”

  I closed in. Refusing to give up. Edged up against my girl until she was caged, her sweet, sweet body plastered to the wall while I was dying to plaster myself against her.

  To draw a full breath into my water-logged lungs. A full breath I hadn’t had since she’d disappeared from my life.

  A breath full of something good. Something pure.

  And this time I’d do my damned best not to dirty it.

  Pressing both hands above her head, I fenced her in. Just needing to know if I had a fight worth fighting for. Because I wasn’t about to harm this girl any more than I already had. Wouldn’t ruin what she’d found if what she’d found had put a smile on her face and ease in her heart.

  “You love him?”

  Confusion lined her face, and she squinted up at me.

  I jerked my head in the direction of the door.

  My meaning dawned on her expression. The shake of her head was quick.

  “Jed? We’re just friends,” she said.

  “Doesn’t look that way to me.”

  So maybe it came across sounding all pissy and surly.

  Couldn’t help it. Possessiveness expanded against my ribs, making them feel like they might bust open wide. Pressing with the crazy need to claim her.

  “You don’t have the right to demand answers from me, Austin.”

  The hall felt so damned small. Like the walls and ceiling were closing in.

  And Edie and I?

  We were just getting closer and closer and closer.

  No matter how damned hard she tried to push me away.

  It was acute.

  Something fierce and alive.

  Something that compelled and urged and impelled.

  “You’re right, Edie. I fucking don’t. But I need to know…need to know what he means to you.”

  Hesitation slowed her, before she averted her telling gaze. “We’re friends, Austin. Nothing more.”

  Urges slammed my senses. An assault of frantic darts that pierced me everywhere, each pumping me full of need and overwhelming desire.

  My mouth watered. My tongue darted out to swipe against my bottom lip.

  I wanted to kiss her.

  Claim her.

  But somehow I understood now was not the time to push. Those boundaries had never been higher, the walls she hid behind built with the bricks of my betrayal.

  Could I ever be good enough?

  Brave enough?

  Wise enough to stand for this girl?

  I wanted to be. I wanted to be so damned badly I could taste it.

  I wanted nothing more than to be the man I’d walked out of my brother’s house to become.

  I’d told him someday I wanted a girl to look at me the way Shea looked at him.

  But I hadn’t been talking about just any girl.

  I’d been talking about this girl.

  Could I be that man?

  A spiral of doubt wound through me, and a thick knot of uncertainty grew at the base of my throat.

  The truth of it was, I didn’t know.

  Swallowing hard, I came to the decision.

  To settle.

  Just like I’d always done before.

  Just like I’d always do.

  Because any part of Edie Evans was better than none.

  “I could use a friend,” I said.

  Both of us knew that wasn’t close to what I really meant.

  Not close to what either of us wanted.

  But Edie and I were old pros at taking what we could get.

  Crinkles dented her brow, her voice rough. “It looks to me like you have plenty of them. The blonde hanging all over you down by the fire was especially cute.”

  Jealousy.

  It was there.

  Blatant and bold.

  And I fucking liked it, fed off it, and there wasn’t anything in the world I could do to stop myself. My finger was suddenly twirling through a lock of soft waves that framed her stunning face, those silky threads inciting a war of lust and greed and an age-old devotion inside of me.

  “I always did like blondes,” I murmured low.

  “Austin…” she warned.

  She didn’t need to say it.

  I already heard.

  Don’t.

  “Friends,” I reiterated, forcing myself to keep it cool. To give her time when I wanted to demand she give me all of hers.

  Blinking, she swallowed hard. “How do you always manage to do this to me?”

  “Do what?”

  “Make me feel like I’m where I’m supposed to be.”

  “Because you are.”

  Her eyes darted down the hall, like she didn’t trust herself to be standing there with me.

  My mouth pressed against the top of her head, and I fucking begged as I breathed the words into her hair. “Don’t run, Edie. You’ve always been my best friend. Time and distance hasn’t changed that. Nothing ever will.”

  Her reluctance swirled between us, her hesitation palpable, her breaths a pant. Filling up the air and space and my heart. She pressed her mouth to it, to the thunder and the roar ricocheting in my chest. Her words were a mumble of hope and dread. “How could you ever expect me to trust you again?”

  I enclosed her in my arms. Rocking her slow. Comforting her.

  It felt so natural.

  So goddamned right.

  Like holding her was what I’d been created to do. “I don’t, Edie. I don’t. But I’m asking you to try.”

  “I don’t know if anything’s changed, Austin. If I’m any different than that girl in the dark room.”

  She said it like a pleading warning.

  But that girl in the room was the one I’d fallen in love with.

  “I know you, Edie. Think I’ve figured that out by now. You don’t scare me.”

  That was an outright lie.

  This girl terrified me.

  The things she made me want.

  Who she made me want to be.

  The fear of losing it all again if I fucked it up the way I always did.

  We stayed like that for the longest time. Swaying soft and slow.

  Took about all I had not to protest when she finally untangled herself from my hold. “I need to get back outside.”

  For now, I knew I had to let her go. “Okay.”

  Slowly, she moved down the hall. Fingertips just grazed the wall as she passed, as if they kept her on her wavering feet.

  “Edie,” I called.

  She paused at the end, shifted to look at me with that gaze from over her shoulder.

  “I’ll wait. I’ve been waiting for you forever,” I told her.

  Aqua eyes stared back at me. The depth of them was staggering.

  Swimming in sadness.

  Brimming in hope.

  She smiled. Slow and cautious. Then she turned and slipped out the door.

  Sucking in a shaky breath, I lifted my face to the low ceiling, like maybe in the rutted, pitted surface I could find the cool that remained just out of reach. Grappling for the patience that felt fleeting and fake.

  But I’d told her the truth.

  I’d wait.

  For however long it took.

  I headed back down the hall toward the kitchen, dug into the fridge, and pulled out a beer. I wasn’t s
ure I could handle any more of the cozy little party taking place on the beach.

  Wasn’t sure I could keep my head from spinning or my heart from hammering with the possibilities I couldn’t help but hope for.

  I spun back around and sucked in a surprised breath, caught off guard by the shadow of a lone figure standing in the middle of the darkened living room. The air gushed out when I realized it was Deak, staring back.

  I raked a flustered hand through my hair. “Shit. Dude. You scared the hell out of me.”

  “Yeah? Better me than Jed.”

  I both scoffed and sighed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You know exactly what that’s supposed to mean. You’re new around here, and Jed’s been around for a long, long time. He’s good people, and from what I’ve gathered, she’s a real good girl. Sweet. Neither of them need someone like you swooping in here and mucking up their lives. Seen you in action, mate. She deserves better than that.”

  “We’re just friends, man.”

  Motherfucking lie.

  But what the hell else was I going to say? That I’d already grilled Edie and she promised me there was nothing going on there?

  Snorting, he lifted a knowing brow. “I might be getting old, but I’m far from blind.”

  I pushed out a breath, glanced at the floor, gathering up the courage to look back at him. “There’s a lot of history there you don’t know about, Deak. And you’re right. She’s a good girl. And I have no intention of hurting her.”

  Not ever again.

  But what I did intend was to win her back.

  Mine.

  Age Seventeen

  “Are you crazy? We’re going to get caught.” But her smile proclaimed this was the only place she wanted me to be. I tiptoed the rest of the way into her room, quietly latched the door shut behind me.

  A rush of something good propelled me forward as I climbed into her bed.

  I breathed out in relief when she set those tiny hands on me.

  Because this girl…she ushered in the good. Something that felt so right.

  Didn’t matter that I’d been sneaking in here for the better part of the last three weeks, both of us doing our best during the day to play it cool, to pretend like this wasn’t transpiring night after night.

  It wasn’t as if anything salacious was going down between us, anyway, but I doubted Ash would take all too kindly to my sleeping in her bed.

  She nestled her head on my shoulder, her sigh so easy when she fisted a hand in my shirt. “Sing to me.”