With the memories playing back like a movie, sleep comes and goes in short spurts.
Dreams tempt me and they show me how it once was when we first got together.
* * *
Morning comes all too soon with a stubborn alarm and tired, reddened eyes.
“Fuck,” I mutter as I smack the clock, hating that I didn’t turn it off last night. Six a.m. is far too early and puts me at only three hours of restless sleep at most.
Still, I don’t bother to stay under the sheets.
As soon as I remember—Cill’s here—I’m out of the bed, my bare feet on the cold wooden floor. It’s not far to his room, but when I get there the door is wide open. I know what that means before I step through the door.
My palms are clammy as I steady my breathing.
He’s not there.
With a quick check in the bathroom only to find nothing, I head downstairs. I rush down, taking the stairs two at a time. The house is quiet around me. When I don’t see him, I call out his name and it echoes in the empty house.
He’s not here either. I circle the living room to look for signs of him. There are none. He didn’t sit on the couch, or pull the throw blanket over his legs.
Swallowing thickly, I do everything I can to shake off the uncertainty.
I don’t know why I care so much. He spent one night in my house, and it’s not like there would be plenty of evidence that he was here. As the heat of panic creeps up my arms, I just need some proof. Some little thing to say Cill’s really back home and last night wasn’t a dream. He was here with me.
As I head to the living room to grab my phone that’s charging, ready to text Lydia, I see the note.
A slim piece of paper from the notepad I use to make grocery lists. He didn’t leave me with nothing after all.
It’s from Cill.
* * *
I have to take care of a few things.
Like getting a phone …
I’ll call you and I’ll see you tonight.
If you need anything, or you need me, call Reed.
Six years ago
* * *
A younger version of Cill, only seventeen years old, leaned over the pool table. Shot after shot. He was a shark even then. I remember thinking he probably learned how to play from his dad, but I didn’t care about that. All I cared about was how hot he looked in the dim lights of the rec hall. He had a tight black T-shirt that showed off his muscular arms. He put a ball into one of the pockets, easy as can be, and looked up at me. A smirk immediately met his lips. He didn’t disguise how much he wanted me and I didn’t attempt to hide anything either. He let his eyes linger on my face for a long time, until I blushed.
Our fathers were doing business upstairs. They did that a lot and left the two of us alone. I met Cill’s father before I met Cill. He told me more than once he thought Cill and I would get along well. Which is probably why my father never brought me to the MC club … until that night.
“You want to play?” Cill asked.
“I don’t know how.”
“Bullshit.” He grinned at me and every inch of me went hot. “You’re Angelo’s daughter. You trying to hustle me?” My teeth caught my lower lip, although it didn’t help hide my smile. “Little con artist, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.” I picked at the torn jeans I wore.
“What were you going to bet me, then?” I blushed deeper, imagining all the things I could say if I had the courage. “’Cause I was going to bet you a kiss.”
“If you won, you wanted a kiss from me?” I questioned him. The idea of Cill wanting a kiss from me was like winning the lottery. Even if it never happened, that didn’t matter. He wanted a kiss from me, and I could barely breathe with how excited that made me.
I knew he could tell. I wasn’t very good at hiding anything. His growing smile forced away any insecurity I had.
Unfortunately, it didn’t last for long.
Both our fathers clattered down the stairs at that moment, their voices coming into the rec room ahead of them. I didn’t get to hear Cill’s answer, if he gave me one. I fell in love with him in that moment. I never stood a chance. He was sexy and sinful … but charming and easy in a way I’d never felt before. There was an attraction I couldn’t deny on my side and he wanted me back. Nothing was ever going to top that.
Nothing.
Cillian
Four years might as well have been a fucking lifetime.
Slipping the new phone into my back pocket, I attempt to take in everything that’s changed and what all has stayed the same.
Life used to be routine and easy. I loved every fucking day.
Monday through Saturday I worked my shift in the garage, fixing up whatever came in. Unless we had a run, in which case it was days on end with the growl of the bike under me. Either way, work came and went easy enough and with good company.
Church, a.k.a. the club meetings, on Sunday and then family dinner after.
My father told me when I got out, he’d make sure everything was like it was before.
Now he’s six feet under and I would give anything to hear him offering me any advice at all to get through this.
The slow rumble of the truck keeps us company as I keep my ass in the seat, not knowing what to expect next.
“You look like today kicked your ass,” Reed comments half-heartedly as I turn the engine off and close the door to his truck.
“Thanks.” I huff a laugh and think back on Kat’s house. It’s small and in need of a powerwash and weeding. The whole house could use fixing up here and there.
I could do that. I could so easily take care of it for her.
“Rough night?”
I shrug before dragging my focus back to him. His hands are already covered in oil, just as mine will be in a few hours. My uncle didn’t waste time putting me back to work. One other thing has stayed the same. Church is on Sunday and I’m damn well looking forward to that. Until then, he told me to stick with Reed in the garage.
“It was all right. Slept off the beer and snuck out before she got up,” I tell him.
“Snuck out?” He lets out a chuckle, a smile growing on his face. “I know I keep saying it,” he starts, “but I missed you, man. We all missed you.”
At that remark, my thoughts run back to Kat. Reed must know it because he tells me, “She missed you. Trust me, man, she missed you.”
I stopped by her bedroom door at the crack of fucking dawn this morning and thought about pushing it open, but I didn’t.
Reed left his keys to the truck on the kitchen table. I drove it to get a few things I needed, texted Reed I’d meet him here at the garage and waited and waited. He only lives a few houses down and I thought about heading to his place instead; I couldn’t fucking stand to stay inside the garage. Being there when it’s empty and ghosts linger in every room, was more than I could take. So I stayed in the truck, waiting for his ass to get here.
I’ve never felt so fucking out of place in my life.
As our boots crunch on the gravel, he passes me one of the two cups of coffee from the corner shop. It’s cheap, like it’s always been, but hot. “You and Kat talk last night?”