Alyson Cox believes in fate. So when her ex, Ethan Richardson, shows up at the diner Alyson works in after two years of elusiveness, she doubts if they are fated to be together.
However, with Alyson only being able to work for one summer before she...
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I feel my blood, thrumming, like a river almost spilling over its banks. My brain quickly processes what just happened, because—what exactly just happened?
"Ethan." I feel like I have a lot to tell him, but I just stare at his pair of glinting eyes in the dark. He reaches out and touches my left elbow, I fall silent. His touch is calming and electrifying at the same time. But then he removes his hand and shows me his fingers, they're lingered with a liquid that looks black in the dim light. My blood.
"They threw a freaking broken bottle at you," Ethan mutters. I reach out my right hand and touch my elbow as well, it doesn't hurt that much actually. I didn't even feel the pain before he touched the wound.
"It's okay," I begin. "I'm okay."
"I'm sorry," he interrupts.
I shake my head. He attempts to touch my elbow again, but I grab his wrist midway with my other hand. "This is your third time apologizing to me since I've met you again."
"I don't know what else I could say." Ethan's sharp breath slices through the silence between us. "Fuck. I'm such a mess."
My heart aches so bad that I feel a lump rising in my throat. I stare at his face."What are you saying?" My voice soft and trembling, I let go of his wrist and cup his face. "Of course you're not."
"No, Aly," Ethan says, brushing my hand that's on his face with his finger. "I am, really."
I don't answer. He continues, "I don't know what I'm doing now, Alyson. I really don't know, and—" Ethan starts to choke because he is, literally, crying.
My jaw slackens. I've never seen him cry, never. He doesn't like expressing his feelings to others, and I know this, so seeing Ethan cry startles me.
He just looks at me. There are tears in his eyes, but his eyes still shimmer as if they are stars that sing. And I remembered what Ethan told me two years ago: "Sometimes eyes need music too."
"Ethan." I brush away his tears with my thumb. I feel the warm tears slowly forming in my eyes as well. "Ethan. Please, just talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."
Ethan still doesn't speak. And I know that I'm not the person who can let him open himself up. I couldn't even be that person back then. But he is still staring at me. His warm breath fans over my face. There is a weird line of electricity surging between us, and I realize what I want.
I want him, all of him. I want to taste his mouth again. I want to be the girl whom he can really trust.
Two years is a long time to wait.
And so I lean in, my lips touch his. But the kiss feels odd like there is something missing between us, and all of a sudden, everything around me seems to dwindle.
