Page 45 of The Time It Takes
While everything in my very being screams to let myself exist in these moments, I’m still not sure how to do that without wanting to turn tail and run until my past blurs again.
I’m already late to the bonfire and they’ve probably assumed I’m not coming by now. I was tempted to stay at the house and order food and mope around, but I’m only here for a short time. I feel like I owe them this. I feel like I owe it to myself to see who they’ve become.
Life went on, just as it always did. Just like it did for me in New York. They kept putting one foot in front of the other too. I can’t be bitter because they learned how to do it more gracefully.
I hate that I’m nervous to see everyone together. What I hate even more is that it’s my fault I feel this way.
I come to a stop as I catch sight of the orange dancing flames from where I stand further down the beach. I can also see the four figures that surround it. They’re like shadows in the night—ghosts of my past.
I can hear soft music playing lightly through a speaker as I force myself to walk. I stop a short distance away and my eyes find Oliver’s as if we both still can’t help but feel the other’s presence. I can’t believe I forgot what it’s like to be near him. Even with several feet separating us, it’s intoxicating. My body will never stop recognizing his. Knowing he’s with someone else tells me this is a bad thing. I shouldn’t be feeling like this. He’s not mine anymore.
The ache in my heart grows as I look at him. I wonder if he can see it in my eyes. He’s always been so good at noticing little things about me. The idea is killed by the look of indifference on his face as he stares back at me just as intensely. His bare chest is on display through his unbuttoned shirt as if he had come here right after a meeting. Even though I will myself not to let my eyes trail to his abdomen, they do.
Holy.
He was handsome when he was younger but looking at him now…he’s a gorgeous man. I don’t recall his abs being so defined. He’s ridiculously perfect without even trying and the way he’s looking at me now is breaking my heart. I didn’t think this would hurt so much, but it does. It hurts like a bitch. His eyes are still on my face when I decide to turn away. There’s that feeling in my stomach that I only get when he’s around. It feels like an old friend trying to crawl back inside toward familiar warmth. Judging by the cold look in his eyes, he doesn’t feel the same way.
I swallow hard as everyone else follows Oliver’s gaze.
“Who is—” A deep voice stops abruptly.
My eyes flash to a figure rushing toward me. Before I can process what’s happening, I see Taylor’s face as he throws himself into me. We both make anompfsound when our bodies hit the sand. His arms wrap around me so tightly that I can hardly breathe.
“Hi, Tay,” I wheeze.
He lifts his head to peer down at me. He could have at least let me land on him. A boyish smile spreads across his devilishly good-looking face. “Hey, pretty lady. Still easy on the eyes I see,” he chides.
I smile but say nothing. My emotions get the best of me.
Taylor's eyes roam my face as if he’s looking for something. Either way, I won’t let him find it.
I try to joke instead. “As much as I love a guy on top, can we get up? I’d like to breathe again.”
His head falls back as he laughs, and he rolls off me. “God, I missed you.” He says, running a hand through his hair.
“I missed you more,” I say as I stand and brush sand off myself. My eyes slide to Oliver, who’s staring into the fire with a dark expression.
“Doubt that, baby girl.”
I barely hear his words as my mind loses itself, taking in the person who used to be my favorite in the entire world. I used to be his favorite everything. Now I wonder if I’m his favorite thing to hate. Taylor’s eyes follow mine. Before he can say anything, I reach up and tug on a piece of hair hanging out of his bun.
“Is that a gray hair?” I ask, squinting my eyes at it.
His eyes narrow as he swats my hand away. I choke on my laugh as his hand reaches out and jabs me in the side. I don’t realize how loud it is until Oliver’s head jerks in our direction. There’s something familiar in the way he’s looking at me that has me pushing Taylor’s hand away.
He wraps his arm around my neck and rubs his knuckles on my scalp as we join the others. “Now, first thing’s first, you’re going to catch me up on everything I missed for the past two years.”
I close my eyes with a grimace.
“Two?” Phoebe squeaks with a frown on her face. She’s propped in between Dean’s legs while he keeps a hand absently resting on her belly as he rubs idle circles around it with his fingers.
It isn’t really a secret, but it sure does feel like one. I clear my throat and nod. “Yeah, we um—we met up a couple of years ago.”
Phoebe scowls at Taylor. “And why are we just now finding out about this?”
Taylor shrugs. “Willow here wanted to keep our affair a secret.”
I shove his shoulder, pushing him away from me as I snort. “Shut up,” I say. I turn my attention to Dean and Phoebe rather than the green eyes watching me from across the flames. “I called him and asked him to come for a project I was working on.”
