Page 8 of The Love Chase

His words flitted through my mind again, eliciting a shiver. I squeezed my eyes shut at the memory of turning my back on him, refusing to accept what he had said. Within minutes of that conversation, I had been in my car driving back to the city, sending a text to my cousin that I wasn’t feeling well and had to leave her wedding reception early. It had felt icky, but I needed to get out of there. I couldn’t be around him.

Meridel wasn’t an option anymore, not when he was there.

After he left for California, despite his many promises that we’d remain close and he’d visit when he could, things between us fell apart. First it was him having to cut phone calls short to go to some gig or talk with his manager, then he started forgetting about our scheduled calls altogether, and eventually he became a ghost. No video chats, no calls, and no texts. Nothing. Zilch. Nada.

So, why was he back now? He was supposed to be chasing his dreams in California, becoming the next big country star, and the recent tabloids sure made it seem like he had achieved it. He was famous now, people were obsessed with his music, and he was doing the darn thing he always wanted.

Meridel had nothing to offer him, not when all his wildest dreams had come true.

Especially not now that he was labeled as Country Music’s Bad Boy.

I rolled my eyes at the thought. The Liam I knew would never have earned such a reputation. For a while I kept up with how he was doing, both out of curiosity and because I was a glutton for punishment. But after that first headline about Liam being a ladies’ man, and seeing his mouth on some strange woman’s, I stopped watching. I stopped waiting.

My heart couldn’t handle it.

Clearly, California had changed him.

I thought he was never coming back. I had resigned myself to that. I did my best to let go of the man who was both my best friend and the secret love of my life.

But then he showed up at the wedding, and he looked the same with those cowboy boots and T-shirt, and my heart ached at the sight of him. There was a chasm between us now, one that I wasn’t strong enough to cross.

Liam had cut down the rope bridge, and I couldn’t let him rebuild it. Not now.

My heart wouldn’t survive him leaving a second time.

Even if I desperately missed my best friend with such a deep agony that it stole my breath away, and I wished we could go back to the way things had been. But I had lost so much more than Liam knew when he left, and I wasn’t willing to open myself up to that kind of hurt again.

Swallowing the ache in my throat, I unlocked the door and dragged my feet across the threshold.

Denise, my roommate, with her dark hair and spray-tanned skin, sat on the couch smacking her gum and flipping through a magazine. The overwhelming scent of her Chanel N°5 perfume filled the space, and I tried not to gag. She was obsessed with the scent, and quite literally sprayed it all over the place.

I thought it smelled like an old lady on her death bed.

I was forced to keep a bag of coffee beans in the glove box of my truck just to clear my nose whenever I left the apartment.

“Hi, Denise,” I greeted, hanging my purse on the back of the door.

A grunt was her only response as she turned the page, not bothering to look up or fully acknowledge my existence.

I let out a silent sigh. I had hoped that Denise and I would hit it off, that she would replace the hole I had felt after graduation from not going home, being away from my mom and brother, and from my cousin, Maya, who was my closest friend. It had been so stressful trying to fit most of my credits into just a year and a half, and it made talking with any of them nearly impossible. I’d never felt so disconnected from my family.

I had been optimistic that Denise would fill the void, but if anything, she only made it bigger, and ache more. She made me realize how alone I was. She didn’t care about me, only the money I paid in rent. Any time I tried to talk to her in the past two weeks, she shoved a magazine in front of her face, refusing to engage in conversation with me.

Denise had made it obvious that she didn’t want anything to do with me.

That was fine. This wasn’t a home. This was simply where I slept.

Home was Meridel, even if I couldn’t go back there.

Shoving those depressing thoughts away, I went into the kitchen and filled a glass of water at the tap, draining it in a few gulps, wincing at the metallic taste of city water.

I miss the water at home.

I set the glass down with a loud clink. I wasn’t sure how Denise would react when I told her about losing my paid internship, but I was hoping she would be kind about it.

I took a breath. It was time to rip off the band aid. No beating around the bush.

“So…” I said, bracing for impact. “I lost my internship.”