Pieces of Summer

My number has changed numerous times since that spring. It wouldn’t have done any good for him to call after that. But I also don’t mention that. He had a phone before he moved on.

He blows out a breath, leaning back to stare at me again. “I tried to find you on social media. Never could.”

“I’m only on there under my author name.” The name that anchors me to the past, according to my shrink who wants me to lose the Chase surname and adopt a new pen name.

It could have been worse. I could have used his surname. It makes me feel a little less crazy to not have used Mikayla James.

“So you looked me up?” he asks, referring to the fact I admitted to knowing he moved.

I stalked your page numerous times a week to see if you had made any post I could see.

“Yeah,” I say vaguely.

“Why not message me?”

“Why not call me? My number was the same for a long time. You might not have called it, but you had it. My address was the same too for a while. You knew how to write.” The words come out with more bite than I mean for them to, but he doesn’t flinch.

“Think it’s time to stray from memory lane. How about telling me what your plans are now that you’re in town?” he asks, confusing me with how nice he’s being tonight.

“I don’t know. I try not to make plans because I have to follow through with them. You know? That whole unfinished thing.”

He grins again. “It was one of my favorite things about you. Considering I didn’t have anyone in my life who ever carried through with plans or kept promises, it made me appreciate your inability to leave something unfinished.”

My chest aches a little from that confession.

“Why did you come back to Hayden?” I ask him.

He shrugs. “Seemed like the only place I really fit. I lived in a few places before Nashville, but I didn’t stay longer than a month anywhere until then. Sucks I spent my life dreaming of getting out, only to land right back in town. At least it doesn’t bother me when people stare at me or run their mouths anymore. I grew out of giving a damn.”

Fighting the urge to go to him isn’t easy, but I keep my spot on my sofa.

The wind howls, forcing the house to groan in reply as the limbs crack and slash against the sides. I jump when a loud burst of thunder vibrates the entire house, and Chase watches me.

“What?” I ask, feeling like a kid scared of thunder.

Thunder can’t hurt you, but it’s like a dog growling. The growl doesn’t hurt, but it scares the shit out of you because you know you’ll find teeth where that growl comes from.

“I keep thinking of lying in that sunroom with the rain windows closed. It’s what we always did when it stormed.”

“When we were young and in love,” I remind him, wincing as that four letter word rolls off my tongue with too much abandon.

He flinches too, and an awkward silence gathers between us. After it gets suffocating, he clears his throat.

“You want something to eat?”

I shake my head.

“Movie? Never mind. That’s stupid. Power’s out,” he says, sounding a little nervous.

My laptop is fully charged and I could put a movie on for us, but that would require sitting close to each other to watch it.

“I’m actually really tired. You don’t have to stay. I’m going to head up to bed.”

He looks down at his phone, probably checking the time and seeing how early it is.

“I’ll just make a bed on the couch.”

I close my eyes, trying not to think about what it would be like to walk down here and just stare at him while he sleeps. Because that’s creepy. Only creepy, weird girls do that.