I was entranced as I watched her fall. Bottling the sound of her breathy moans as she came around my fingers. She was perfect. So fucking perfect. And in a different time and place, she could have been mine.
But that wasn’t our destiny.
Birdie would escape this place one day. She would leave, and I would let her. Because The Row was toxic and that shit would eat at your soul until there was nothing good left.
“Thank you,” she smiled at me all dreamy-eyed and sated as she leaned in to kiss me.
Nothing had ever hurt me more than this moment. Knowing that’s all it could ever be.
So I held her. Held on tight and for a few seconds I let myself believe that this was the start of something special. Something real.
Something I knew I’d never get to experience again.
Harleigh
“Miles,” Celeste giggled, nuzzling his arm as we sat outside in the yard. They were lost in their own little world. Had been all morning.
I’d wanted to stay in my room, but she’d refused to let me, insisting that they both wanted to hang out with me. But I’d barely said two words while they drifted deeper and deeper into their bubble.
It was cute, watching them. But it made my heart heavy.
“Sorry, Harleigh.” He flashed me an apologetic smile. “I just can’t believe this one”—he hugged Celeste into his side—“finally agreed to go out with me.”
“Technically, you never asked.”
“Because you’ve always kept me in the friend zone.”
And they were off again, gazing at each other with those dreamy lust-filled expressions. Miles nipped Celeste’s jaw, tenderly holding the back of her neck, teasing her with featherlight kisses that made her squirm and sigh.
My stomach curled, the bitter sting of jealousy shooting through me.
I’d never had that.
Never had anyone looked at me the way Miles was looking at Celeste right now.
Even when Nix had kissed me, he hadn’t gazed at me like that. His eyes were always clouded with regret, his expression tortured. Because things were never simple between us. He’d put me on a pedestal. Treated me as if I was some kind of precious stone or rare bird, to be cherished and protected but never touched. He’d loved me, I never doubted that. Not for a second. But it wasn’t the kind of love that consumed a person until they couldn’t think of anything else but being with the object of their desire.
If it had been, he would never have left me.
He would never have willingly let me go.
Miles’s cell phone chimed and he leaned over, snatching it off the small rattan and glass table.
“Who is it?” Celeste asked, trying to peer over his shoulder.
“No one.” He batted her away, concealing his screen as he texted the no one back.
“Hmm, keeping secrets, Mulligan. I can probably think of a few ways to get them out of you.” She latched her mouth onto his neck, sucking and kissing. A deep groan rumbled in Miles’s throat, a breathy cuss falling from his lips.
Rolling my eyes, I clambered off the lounger and said, “I’m going to grab some more snacks from the kitchen.”
The house was empty. My father and Sabrina were out of town with some business associates, and Max was off doing whatever Max did with his spare time. Ever since he’d outed me to his friends, he’d been avoiding me more than usual.
Good.
I wanted nothing to do with him.
I’d been here for weeks now. I knew what lay behind every door, around every corner, but it didn’t feel like home. It never would. It was beautiful, sure. A light and airy canvas full of perfectly positioned vases full of fake, never wilting flowers; abstract wall art splashed with vibrant colors. Everything had its place, had been picked out to compliment the ambience. But what it had in style and aesthetic beauty, it lacked in feeling. And maybe it was weird, but I felt cold here. Empty.
Even my room didn’t feel like my room. It felt borrowed. Temporary.
“Harleigh?” I turned to find Celeste frowning at me. “What are you doing?”
I hadn’t even realized I’d wandered over to the sideboard and picked up a rare photograph of my father with his family—the one he’d wanted, the one he’d claimed for himself.
“Nothing,” I said, placing it back down, ignoring the bitter sting of jealousy stabbing my insides.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry… about Miles. I know it’s been like a day and we’re already that annoying lovesick couple. I’ll try and—”
“Celeste, I said I’m fine.” I didn’t meet her apologetic gaze. “You deserve to be happy.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want it to change things between us. I’ve really liked having you around, Harleigh. I don’t make girlfriends easily, or at all, really.” She toyed with the ties of her shorts.
“I’ll be here,” I said.
It’s not like I had anywhere else to go.
“I think I’m going to head up to the roof.”
“Are we that bad?” Guilt glittered in Celeste’s eyes. But it really wasn’t about her, it was about me.
“It’s new and exciting and you don’t want me cramping your style. Besides, I—”
The doorbell rang and we both glanced down the hall toward the door.
“Expecting someone?” I asked her, and she shook her head.
“I’ll go see who it is.”
I used the moment to grab a bottle of water and a granola bar and head for the stairs. But a voice gave me pause.
“Mulligan invited me.”
“Nate?” I spun around and marched toward the door. “Seriously?”
“I’m guessing Mulligan didn’t tell you he invited me.”
“No, he didn’t.” I ground out, glancing at Celeste.
She balked. “Don’t look at me, I had no idea either. But now that you’re here, I guess you can—”
“Celeste!”
I didn’t want to hang out with Nate again. Not after last night. But the overbearing ass stepped into the house and held up beers and a bag of snacks. “I grabbed a bunch of stuff.”
“We have food, Nate.” Celeste smothered a laugh.
“Yeah, but it’s rude to turn up empty-handed.”
They both looked at me expectantly.
“Fine.” I blew out a frustrated breath. “Whatever.”
“‘Nice to see you too, Maguire.” He smirked, slipping around me, and disappeared into the kitchen.
“Sorry. I didn’t know,” Celeste said.
“It’s fine.” It wasn’t, but whatever.
Something told me even if I took off up to the roof, Nate would only follow me, so I let Celeste slip her arm through mine and lay her head on my shoulder. “He’s not so bad.”
“You’ve had a change of heart.”
“Yeah, it’s weird. I thought he was another Marc Denby type. But I don’t know, there’s something about him.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” It pained me to say the words, but she was right.
There was more to Nate Miller than met the eye.
I just didn’t know if I wanted to find out what it was.