Page 28 of Forget Me Not

The ride to The Alley goes by quicker than I hoped it would. I help her off the bike and I’m left with an immediate coldness, an emptiness where her body once was. I undo both of our helmets before fastening them onto the bike.

“So is Kayla going to be here?” She looks up at me, what looks like nervousness in her eyes.

“I doubt it. Her friend Sabrina, the one who was at the barbecue with her normally hangs out at the bar here. Kayla rarely comes here, but Sab has a big mouth.”

“Okay, got it. I’m ready.” She pushes her shoulders back and stands taller. She looks like she’s preparing to go to war. It’s fucking adorable.

Adorable… who the fuck are you, Kade?

I grab her hand in mine, interlocking our fingers that feel as though they fit perfectly together. We walk into the sports bar and loud ’90s rock music immediately fills my ears. “SmellsLike Teen Spirit” by Nirvana blares in the back from where the pool tables are, while sports commentators can be heard on the televisions to the right opposite the large bar.

“Do you want anything to drink?” I ask Logan as we walk toward the bar. My eye catches Sabrina sitting with Trix in the corner, neither of them looking our way. I ignore them both, focusing all my attention on the girl by my side.

“No, I’m okay for now.” I nod my head and continue to guide her to the back of the building where a few high-top tables are scattered around the sides, and four large pool tables sit in the center. There are people at most of the tables and two of the pool tables are being used, the other two empty.

“You ever played?” I ask as we walk up to one of the empty pool tables. A wide smile crosses Logan’s face and my heart beats a little quicker.

“You ready to be beaten by a girl half your size?” She laughs, pushing past me to grab a cue off the wall.

“No, and I don’t plan to.” I grab a cue of my own and start racking up the balls. Logan moves to the opposite side of the table just as I remove the triangular rack.

She leans over the table, lining up her cue with the cue ball to break the others. Her eyes meet mine, twinkling with mischievousness, just as she makes the shot. The balls scatter into a perfectly clean break, two striped ones falling into opposite corner pockets. Logan jumps back up to a standing position, a smile illuminating her entire face.

“We’ll see,” she says. She walks toward where the cue ball now is on the table to take her next shot. She lets her shoulder brush against my arm as she passes me, and I want to yank her back to feel more of her.

I watch her take her second shot, easily sinking the ball into the pocket and I find that I don’t care if she makes every shot, beating me all night long. Just standing here and watching her,there’s happiness radiating off of every inch of her and it feels like it’s directly seeping into me. In this moment and possibly every moment to come, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

CHAPTER

FOURTEEN

Logan

I like the way his eyes feel on me. They follow my every move, not leaving me for even a second. He looks at me like the world could be falling apart around him and I’d still be the only thing he sees. It’s definitely not how you look at someone who’s supposed to be yourfakegirlfriend.

His comment from earlier still rings loudly in my head. “Everything about tonight has been real, and you know it.” He was right. It is real. I just don’t know if I’m ready to admit that to myself. I honestly don’t know if I ever will be. Avoidance is my friend tonight. Who am I fooling? Avoidance is always my friend.

We’re currently playing our second round of pool after I annihilated him in the first round. He didn’t seem to care though. The last time I played pool with a man, he was so butt hurt that I beat him that he barely spoke to me on our drive home, and I never heard from him again. I wasn’t mad about it. If anything, I found it laughable that being beaten by a woman had that harsh of an effect on his ego that he could barely look me in the eye.

Not Kade though. The second I sank the eight ball, his eyes lit up with pride, a soft smile adorning his face as he told me, “good job.” It was like he was proud that I beat him, even if that meant he lost. My heart feels a little fuller at the thought.

Our conversation flows effortlessly as we play. It feels natural speaking to him, asking him questions and answering his in return. I’ve found out that he’s been drawing since he was a kid, so the transition to tattoo artist just felt right. He doesn’t have a favorite color, saying each color holds equal importance in his life when it comes to art. He played football throughout high school, but more so for the love of the sport than the popularity aspect since he preferred the shadows. He was a mediocre student, he did enough to pass, but college was never an option for him, so he never saw the purpose of doing more.

He also told me that his biggest fear in life is becoming his father. He changed the subject quickly after that though, so I don’t think he meant to let that bit of information slip. He’s asked me similar questions, and I answer them easily, except for my biggest fear. I told him it was clowns. He looked at me like he didn’t believe me for a second but didn’t push me further. My true biggest fear is something I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to put into words, and now is certainly not the time to try.

“So, what about your family?” Kade asks, just as I hit the ball and take my shot. The ball goes wide, missing the second ball by an inch.

“What about them?” I ask. My family is a subject I normally avoid at all costs. With the skeletons of my past being directly tied to them, it’s not an easy topic to discuss.

“Well, you got all my family secrets earlier, so now I want yours,” he says. “What was your family like?”

“Normal, I guess.” I hesitate, trying to think about what I’m willing to share. “My mom had us young and was a single mom. She was also a full-time nurse, so she worked a lot to make surewe had a good lifestyle. She can be a little self-involved at times, but she gave up a lot of her life to raise us alone when she didn’t have to. She’s a good mom.”

“She sounds like it,” he says.

“I don’t talk to her as much as I should and we really only see each other a couple times a year when she can make it out here to visit me. We’re both just busy,” I lie. I’m sure I could make more time to talk to her, or I could find time to visit her, but I don’t. She reminds me of the past, of Lennox, and I know it’s the same for her. That doesn’t mean I don’t love her, though.

“I’ve never met my father. He bailed before I was born and never cared to try to show up after. Not much of a story there.” I add on.

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