Perfect for Me by Claudia Burgoa

Chapter Twenty

Hazel

Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don’t resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. ― Lao Tzu

The housein Santa Cruz was built in the sixties. The kitchen, living room, and dining room are actual rooms. There’re no open spaces. After watching a YouTube video on how to demolish a wall, I’m ready to continue the purge. The stuff in my room can wait a few more days. Tonight, I need to smash through the walls. This has been the day from hell. Scott sent a bouquet. Not just any flowers, but my favorite blue orchids along with a granola bar. It arrived at eleven. The note read:

To remind you I’m always right beside you.

Scott

P.S. Don’t forget to eat lunch.

I wanted to call him and ask what that meant, but my gut talked me out of it.

When I arrived at the house ready to declutter this residence, I found a surprise on my doorstep. A basket with wine, Doritos, and a note.

Have dinner with me.

Eli.

Translation: here’s some wine to numb the pain I caused. Can we try to break your heart one more time, Hazel?

Swinging the sledgehammer, I hit the wall and release some of my pent-up energy. How dare he asks for another chance? It didn’t take me long to find purpose. Some days, I was strong enough to let myself smile. Others, I couldn’t shed the sadness. There wasn’t a night when I didn’t cry. They were tears of pain, anger, denial, and depression.

I remember the time when it seemed impossible. It was to put one foot in front of the other, but once I got the hang of my new life, the sun shined, and the possibilities became infinite. Each day, I learned to fight the sadness and the darkness. It’s hard, but with each breath, I am fighting it.

Boom! Boom!I smash the wall harder. Pieces of drywall and dust fly all around me. Once the debris and trash are out of the way, this place will be bigger and brighter. That’s what I need—to declutter my mind. Clean out everything that’s not good for me.

That’s why I’ve been closed to the world. Last night, I realized I’ve been pushing away all the opportunities I’ve come across because of Elliot.

Is that what happened with Scott?

It’s hard to know when he’s just as screwed up as I am. My hand itches to reach for my phone and call him. I have so many questions, and I know in my heart he has answers. A lot of them would help unknot the mess that’s my mind.

I place the sledgehammer on the floor. The handle leans against a bare beam. I take off the safety glasses, pull down the respiration mask, and admire my handiwork. My heart beats fast as the tightness that had squeezed my lungs since yesterday is gone.

My phone buzzes, and I take off the top of my white jumper to pull it out of my pocket.

Fitz: I’m outside waiting for you to open the door.

I open it and find him and Harrison smiling at me.

“Oh my God, you’re here!” I jump into Harrison’s arms, and he twirls me.

“How are you, squirt?” He places me back on the floor.

I blink twice as I find my footing. “You’re alive,” I say, looking into his clear blue eyes, making sure it’s him. Holding his face, I look for bruises or new scars. “Where’s the wife?”

I look around for Luna—my bestie and partner in crime. Maybe I can convince her to help me demolish all the walls. She’s a hundred times stronger than me and loves to destroy things.

“Your little friend is working,” he reveals with a bitter gaze.

“Alone?”

Luna can take on a mission by herself, but Harrison always works with her. Part of their rules and marriage vows.

“Her brothers are with her,” he discloses. “They didn’t invite me to play with them.”

Luna and her two brothers work with Harrison. One of them co-owns the company with Harry and two other guys.

“I bet there’s more to it than that. What is it?” I ask, curious about this siblings-only mission.

“Yeah, but if I tell you about it, I’d have to kill you.” Harrison winks at me, picking up a tote bag from the floor and some lawn chairs.

“What am I, chopped liver?” Fitz glares at me.

“You’re here!” I open my arms and give him a big hug.

“I thought you were never coming back,” I whine, placing my arm on my forehead.

The three of us laugh.

“You’re too much, Beesley.” Fitz winks at me.

They make their way into the house, looking around.

“You seem to have channeled your inner Hulk tonight,” Harrison says, handing me the bag and setting the chairs on the floor.

“This looks like a lot of fun.” He lifts the sledgehammer and pretends to hit the wall. “Tomorrow, I’m helping you all day long. But can you take a break today?”

“For my boys?” I smile at them, taking off the overalls and industrial boots. “Always.”

“It’s ugly outside, though,” Fitz states.

“You just came from some fucking ugly weather, Fitzhenry. It was snowing in New York when we left,” Harrison argues with his brother.

I poke my head outside, looking up at the sky. “You’re crazy. It’s just another cloudy evening.”

The clouds roll in, covering the last of the twilight sky. It never fails that at night, the balls of cotton and streams of gray become as invisible as the stars they conceal, but the air is humid.

“How’s New York?”

“Freezing, like every fucking winter,” Fitz complains, rubbing his arms and fake shivering.

We go to the backyard and set up the lawn chairs that they brought.

“So, what’s going on, Beesley?” Harrison asks, sitting down.

“Have you seen L’asshole?” Fitz asks.

I tell them about last night and how I went from picking up the trash to falling asleep with Scott’s soothing voice.

“You should share a meal with him,” Fitz comments.

“It’s not that simple. Being around Elliot awakens memories I want to keep under wraps.” I open the bag that Harrison gave me. There’s beer, wine, and snacks. “He insists that he didn’t cheat.”

“Cheating isn’t just fornicating,” Harrison tells me.

“What does that mean?”

“Cheating can happen in many ways. You can have an emotional affair without ever sticking your dick in the chick.”

“Or the dude,” Fitz adds to Harrison’s statement, taking a beer from the bag.

My chest burns as the night I caught Elliot replays in my head. I’m fighting hard to forget everything, and it’s useless. The more I try to push those memories away, the more they push back.

“What would you have done if your parents hadn’t had so much money, Harrison?” I throw the question, then wait for his answer.

He scratches his head, glaring at me for several beats. Then he grins. “I’d had enlisted. Scott would’ve stripped. In fact, I would’ve pimped him.”

I push him slightly, but his muscles weigh a ton each, and I can’t move him or do any damage. “You’re an idiot.”

“Look, I can’t think of the scenario. What Elliot did for his family is respectable,” Harrison says, his tone is now sober. “But…you’re my family, and what he did to you was fucked up.”

“That’s why I don’t know if I can forgive him.”

“What about Scott?” Fitz stares at me.

I freeze when he asks me that. “What about him, Fitz?”

“He cares for you,” he says, casually staring at the ocean.

“Caring isn’t the same as loving unless you know something I don’t.”

“I’m under oath to protect the conversation I had with Scotty the other day,” he continues. “If I open my big mouth, a lifetime of torture will be unleashed upon me.”

I laugh, drinking more wine. “Scott never tortured you. Did he?”

“You don’t know the half of it. My older brothers weren’t little angels.” He smirks.

Harrison grins. “We had fun with our little brothers.”

Fitz rubs his arm. “Too much fun.”

They both burst out laughing and don’t stop for several beats. I can’t imagine what they’re referring to, but I know there was no such thing as torture.

“To answer your question”—I pause and clear my throat—“Scott enjoyed the benefits of having steady sex.”

Harrison snaps his fingers, sitting straight. “Fuck, you’re right. You look for excuses to push away the men who get close to you. You’ll need more walls to destroy to get through this phase, Bumble Bee.”

“Shut up, Everhart.” I sneer at him. “This is serious.”

I love him. I truly adore this guy, but sometimes, he takes the annoying big brother role way too seriously.

“Hey, chill,” he says, reaching for my hand and squeezing it.

“If anything gets to be too heavy, I’m here for you,” he comforts me. “I only joke because you seem okay, but you know I have your back. Even though Scott misses you.”

“He’s a bigger asshole when you aren’t around,” Fitz adds, munching on Doritos. “Why do you think we jumped on a plane to come to visit you?”

“That’s not why,” Harrison corrects him, giving him a stern look. “I had to check on little Hazel.”

And get out of New York because he’s going crazy knowing that Luna isn’t close to him, I add in my head. He’s so predictable.

“Scott being a douchebag is real, though. He is an ass because he misses you a lot,” Harrison confirms Fitz’s statement. “You should at least throw him a line and tell him that you miss him.”

Closing my eyes, I think about Scott. I miss him, but I’m also glad he’s not around while my head and my heart are entirely off-balanced. I hear a chuckle in my head. Scott has witnessed that imbalance, and knows all my flaws. He’s dealt with all of it and more.

Hazel: Thank you for always being there for me.

Scott: It goes both ways, Hazel. How are you?

Missing you…I don’t text that.

Hazel: I’m well. What were you up to on Friday night?

Scott: I went to a charity event at the Frick Museum in Mom’s honor—you didn’t come with me. My brothers bailed on me too.

Hazel: I wish you were here.

Scott: Tell me, Hazel, where do you want me?

I gasp as heat climbs from my toes to my head with that question.

Where do I want him?

A shiver runs down my spine. My entire body floods with heat as I think about our texts when one of us was away on business. We’d choose a place where we can have sex, take a picture, and text it. Which was followed by either sexting or a long call. I scroll through my texts, searching for the last I-want-you-here picture we shared. It was when I visited my father in Costa Rica. The day he signed the deed, selling me our old house.

Hazel:I wish you were here with me.

Scott: Where would we be?

Hazel: How about the ocean?

Scott: You’re a bit of an exhibitionist, Bee. It turns you on knowing someone might see us. Doesn’t it? What are you wearing?

Hazel: Nothing. I’m already in the water, waiting for you.

Scott: I wish I could touch you. I want you so bad.

“I wish you were here,” I mumbled.

Closing my eyes, I concentrated on the sound of the ocean and the memory of his husky voice and his long fingers caressing my skin. A soft chuckle interrupted me.

“Your wish is my command,” he said with his low voice.

My eyes fluttered open. Scott Everhart was right in front of me, watching me with concerned eyes and a warm smile.

“You came,” I whispered.

“Yeah, and you lied. You’re not naked,” Scott pointed out, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward him. “The beach is empty. Do you want to go skinny-dipping?”

I stared at him, waiting for the vision to disappear. Instead, his head lowered until his lips touched mine. Our mouths drifted, and we got lost in that kiss. It was long, sweet, deep, and healing. The sadness from that day dissipated as I felt the heat of his taut body warming my soul. His arms caressed me softly, and I got lost in the kiss. Drunk on each other, we slowed time. Our bodies moved, dancing to the rhythm of the waves crashing against the beach and our beating hearts.

“How are you?” He spoke as we ended our kiss.

“Better. You’re here with me,” I murmured. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“Ocean, or would you rather go to your room?” he asked with a wicked smile on his lips. “I need you, little minx.”

I groaned when he pressed my body closer to his. I felt his hard erection pushing against my abdomen. Sex with Scott was much more than two naked bodies dancing through a melody of lust. Our spark created a wildfire that burned us into ashes, becoming a phoenix at the end of the night. That day, though, something new and different stirred inside. It threw my predictable world into…mayhem. When we burned, our ashes disappeared through the breeze of the night. I lost myself, and I wished for more.

Hazel: I don’t know, Scott. I’m too confused to play this game.

Scott: See you Sunday morning, Hazel.