Time-Lapse by J.B. Heller
Chapter Six
The uncertaintyin Eliza’s gaze made me feel like a fucking asshole. I’d done that. I’d dimmed the sparkle in her eyes that was there this morning as she sang into her hairbrush. I had to fix it, and I had to keep my distance. But I didn’t know how to do both.
I’d grinned and sent her a wink, and I thanked God when her smile emerged—her real smile. Seeing it lifted the weight that had settled on my shoulders the moment I realized I had to keep a distance between us.
I want her. There’s no doubt about that in my mind. But I also know if I let myself get too much closer, it will only make it that much harder for me to leave.
If anyone had asked me a few weeks ago if anything could keep me here, I’d have said hell no. But I’m beginning to doubt that. And I can’t. This has always been my plan. I can’t deviate now, no matter how much she makes me want to.
I’m walking down the embankment to my tree when something shoves into my back, making me stumble forward and almost lose my footing. I swing around, ready to give the person a piece of my mind, but I come face-to-face with a head of messy brown waves. My fingers instantly itch to push her hair away from her pretty face.
A coy smile lifts her lips. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I tripped over my own feet.”
I haven’t got a clue what she’s doing, but I play along. “Yeah, well, watch it next time.” I smirk.
Her eyes sparkle with mischief. “Trust me, I wouldn’t touch you by choice.”
My brows jump, and I close in on her. “Oh, really?” I watch her chest rise and fall with her excited breaths. “You should be so lucky.”
Eliza licks her lips quickly. “Oh, honey, you actually think a girl like me would be lucky to have you? That’s cute.”
I narrow my eyes on her. “Any girl would be lucky to have a piece of me. If only you knew what I could do to you. To that prim-and-proper exterior you parade around with.” I step so close our chests are nearly touching. I drop my mouth and whisper in her ear, “I’d love to mess up that queen-bee persona you’ve got going on, but you couldn’t handle me, princess.”
Then, I leave her standing there, glaring, panting, and looking so damn hot I want to drag her back to her car so I can fuck that look right off her face.
She is clearly turned on, and knowing that I got her so worked up with nothing but my words … I shake my head and blow out a big breath. I’m in so much fucking trouble with this girl.
By the time I make it to my tree and sit leaning against the trunk, I see her walking over to her friends. They question her about our encounter, and I can tell she’s painting me as an asshole.
Her friend Yazzie is glaring at me, and I smile widely in return.
I slide my hand into my pocket to retrieve my phone so I can double check with Johnno where we’re working this afternoon. A piece of paper falls out with it. Frowning, I pick it up and unfold it. It’s from Eliza, and it’s addressed to Mr. Mysterious. She must have slipped it in there when she ran into me.
Mr. Mysterious,
I get why you’re pushing me away. You’re leaving and don’t want to hurt me. But it doesn’t make me want to be with you any less.
You’re on my mind all the time, even when I’m surrounded by people who think they know me.
You make me feel alive. If I can only have that for a short time, until you leave, I’ll take it.
Think about it.
Princess
I let out a deep breath and drop my head back against the trunk. Shit.
When I look up again, she’s watching me cautiously. I try to smile back at her, to assure her that we’re cool, but I’m not sure how well I pull it off because she doesn’t look comforted.
Pulling my camera out of my pack, I flick through the couple of pictures I took of her this morning. She looks like an angel with that one ray of light breaking through the treetops shinning down on her.
I’ll keep this photo forever. No matter what happens with us, I can’t let go of her completely when I leave. I know that now.
Turning off the display, I slide the camera into my pack and pick up my cell. It’s a piece of crap, but it’s all I need. It makes calls, and it can text. That’s it.
Unlocking the screen, I flick a quick text to Johnno, double checking the address for this afternoon before working out how long it will take me to walk there. If the job is too far from the school, Johnno comes and picks me up, but today it’s a close one.
That afternoon, as I’m leaving the school grounds, El’s Rover pulls up beside me. I still haven’t figured out what to say in response to her letter. So, when she rolls down the passenger window, I lean in, crossing my arms over the frame, and smile at her.
She raises a brow. “So?”
I scratch my temple and gnaw on my bottom lip, and her shoulders slump. “It’s not like that, El. Whatever you’re thinking right now, stop. Everything you said in that note, I feel it too. I do. But you make it sound so simple, and it’s not.”
The hope that appeared briefly vanishes just as quickly as it emerged. “Why? I think you’re making it more complicated than it needs to be, Hux. I want you; you want me. What’s so complicated about that?”
I close my eyes because the look in hers right now is weakening my resolve. When I open them, I catch sight of the time on her dash. “Shit, I’ve gotta go, princess. Can we talk about this later? Tomorrow. I promise we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
She sighs. “Yeah, okay.”
“Thank you,” I say with a wink, and just as I’m stepping away, she stops me.
“Wait, you have a phone. Give me your number,” she demands.
I shake my head. “It’s just a shit box. I only use it for work.”
“I don’t care. Give it to me,” she says, holding her hand out.
Reaching into my pocket, I grab it and hand it over. She punches in her number then hands it back. “Now call me.”
She programed herself as Princess, and I grin at her. “Feeling pushy today, huh?” But I do as she says and hit call.
Her phone starts singing, and unsurprisingly, it’s another freaking Bieber song. “We’re really going to have to do something about all this Bieber shit you’re into.”
“I’d like to see you try,” she says, then she pulls away from the curb, and I jog the rest of the way to the job site to avoid being late.
Johnno and the crew are in the middle of assembling a timber deck when I arrive. “’Sup, boys?” I call as I throw my pack into the back of the truck.
I’m greeted with grunts and grumbles from the boys, then Johnno comes over and shows me where he wants me. It’s a big project, and we’ll be here for the next few days, but at least I won’t smell like horse shit.
When I get home, the front door is open a fraction, and I can hear banging and crashing coming from inside. Apprehension fills me as I step in and see Dad throwing an empty beer can at the wall. He’s on one of his binges. He probably didn’t go to work today in favor of sitting around drinking.
The house is trashed. The coffee table is on its side, broken booze bottles and empty cans are scattered all over the floor, the TV is hanging on the wall at a weird angle, and everything’s been wiped off the kitchen counter. “What the hell?” I say as I walk through the living room, dodging broken glass.
There’s a photo album I’ve never seen before sitting on the arm of Dad’s recliner, and I pick it up to see a picture of my parents on their wedding day. They look so happy, and my gut clenches.
“YOU!” my dad roars as he marches toward me, his fists clenched. “You ruined everything! I never wanted you. It was all her. And you fucked everything up!”
I swallow down the bile rising in my throat, but I don’t respond. What can I possibly say? I did ruin everything. I ruined both their lives.
He shoves me back against the wall. “We were perfect together. She loved me, and I fucking worshipped her!” he yells in my face, his rancid breath washing over me, and I avert my gaze.
He towers over me as I shrink into myself, and he continues to spew his rage and hate all over me. And I take it. I deserve it. My heart splinters in my chest, and I want to rip it out. It would hurt less.
When he finally takes a step back, I go to move away from the wall and retreat to my room, but he grabs my shoulder and reels me back. “It’s all your fault!” he grits out through clenched teeth. And before I know what’s happening, his fist slams into my jaw.
Pain ricochets through my skull, then his hand is around my throat, squeezing. “I hate you,” he seethes. Anguish shimmers in his gaze as his grip tightens. Stars flicker in my vision before he finally shoves himself away and staggers back, releasing me.
I stumble down the hall to my room, collapsing against the door as I close and lock it then slide to the floor. I grit my teeth to stop the useless tears from falling. My jaw throbs, and the clenching makes it worse. My teeth feel like they’re going to fall out. My head pounds so hard I can feel my pulse beating in my brain.
This is the first time he’s ever hit me intentionally. And now that he’s finally done it, I know it won’t be the last. I can feel it in my gut. This is just the beginning of a new kind of hell.
