40 | California

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I flipped the camera shut. I'd seen enough. "Can you take me back to LA?"

Matt nodded, a smiling stretching over his lips. "We'd like nothing more."

I said goodbye to my mom, and pointed out landmarks that we passed on the way to the airport. Matt was fascinated by everything I told him. We made it on the plane and laughed about silly things, waiting dreadfully long to get to the other state. It seemed like months had passed before we landed. Matt called a taxi to our hotel and we made it in the late afternoon.

Hours later.

My feet seemed shaky after all the travel as I slapped my shoes across the lobby floor. Matt was going to wait downstairs—he gave me a key to his room, his phone, and an idea.

I was in California again. It had only begun to register when I had seen the plane land, passing swiftly by palm leaves fluttering in the wind. Just like I had thought while I was on Long Beach a few months ago, I had missed this place. I still wasn't registering it now, taking the elevator up to the room's floor. Two weeks felt longer than it should have.

The room was right in front of me. I leaned back in the hallway and brought out Matt's phone, finding Alex's contact number. Dialed. Alex didn't answer the first time, or even the second time. Took him the third to finally answer. 

"Please leave me alone right now, Matt. Don't tell me she has been ignoring me. Just come back to LA already."

"Stop moaning, it's not Matt."

The voice on the other end stopped, and I heard a small breath. His voice was light—I know it recognized me. "Ah, must be Nick then," he joked. "Or is that you Jamie?"

I laughed, my fingers wound tightly on the phone. "Shut up. How're you doing?"

For some reason, I could tell he was smiling. "I could never word it more eloquently than you have. I'm just dandy."

I licked my lips, staring at the door. "Could you come out into the hallway for just a moment?"

There was no response on the phone until it clicked off, and I heard drawers opening in the other room. He must be changing. Shuffling on the carpet. He was cursing behind the door until finally it opened.

"You really are here," Alex mumbled.

His hair was a little unruly, there were dark lines underneath his eyes, and I couldn't have been happier to see him in front of me. Chills ran along my spine. Seeing him again my heart fluttered, and my stomach flipped, and I wanted nothing more than to approach him.

Alex didn't look so happy. "If you're here to break things off with me, this is a cruel way to do it, darling."

I could listen to that accent all day. I shook my head. "I thought you were ignoring me; I wasn't ignoring you. I didn't get anything in the mail."

His brows turned up. "You didn't?"

"Nothing," I whispered.

He took a step forward, fixing his hair. "I'm so sorry about everything. Please tell me Matt told you about what really happened at the club."

"Yeah," I nodded, feeling the sting in my chest as fresh as it was two weeks ago. "I get that she forced you there, but it hurt that you didn't push her off."

Alex opened his mouth. Then closed it. His shirt fit looser than it did before.

"You could tell me that if she somehow exposed the plan to the media, the media would hurt me, but we've been over this—it never hurt me as much as you thought it would. It was you that hurt me in the end."

He swallowed. "I don't know why you're here then. Is it just to establish that we'll both never forgive me?"

"No," I mumbled. "I want any sort of explanation."

"I don't deserve an alibi, but if you so desperately want one, I wasn't in my right mind," Alex said. "I drank too much because I was scared to lose you and I was too scared to push her off of me. And you left because of that. I can't explain it any more because I can never seem to explain the things I regret."

I stayed quiet for a moment.

His voice lowered. It sounded raw. "It was the worst thing in the world watching you leave."

"I didn't want to leave." I stepped forward, crumbling inside. "And I don't want to now. I need to know just one thing."

"Anything."

"Do you still have feelings for her?"

His eyes darkened, head tilted in disappointment. "If you want the truth and nothing but... yes, but they're only nostalgic. I'd be a prick if I forgot everyone that had been close to me. But there's no romantic feeling whatsoever—she's just a memory to me. You're the only one who I feel this way towards."

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I moved off the wall. "I guess that's all I wanted to clear up."

He exhaled slowly. "Then, might I ask, is there any way you'd forgive me?"

"I'd be a prick too if I couldn't forgive somebody who I'm still in love with." I gave a soft smile. The hallway seemed to hum with the sound of the radiator. My eyes traced over his outline.

"I want to kiss you so badly," Alex mumbled.

"Okay, that's totally convenient. Me too."

Alex laughed, and I fell in love with the sound again. His lashes fluttered. He moved so much closer to me until I was pinned against the wall, and he moved his hand over my jaw and paused.

For a second I waited in anticipation, my pulse exploding in my neck. Alex slanted his mouth to capture mine, and kissed me slowly; I drew in a breath and held it. "I missed you," he mumbled, voice a little broken, the taste of his lips driving me insane. "Come with me."

Alex locked our fingers together and we headed down the hallway.


California was swaying palm trees, warm sand slipping through the palm of my hand, the sun peeking just over the horizon as it set and bathing the marble of the hotel in a golden light. I looked up at the glossy windows with my clammy hand still in his, and he asked for a certain room, took me up that familiar elevator, and guided me to room 505.

What the fuck? Get the fuck out!

How could I forget the first words we said to each other? Alex clumsily opened the room door to the smell of lavender once again and nostalgia prickled the hairs on my arms. He opened the door to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Water poured.

"It's been a long time, but I still remember I met you in this exact spot," he smiled.

I walked up to him and crossed my arms behind his neck. Alex kissed me so gingerly and naturally it was if nothing had ever happened between us. His hands played with the edges of my shirt, the waistband of my jeans; things moved forward and soon we were under the stream of hot water, letting it slip over our skin. I was tracing the lines on his chest and letting the steam cloud my lungs.

It couldn't get any more perfect.

I wouldn't want it to.

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