Reckless Abandon (November Blue, #2)

“Thank you, Ember. And, thank you for all of your hard work.” He smiles before his face greys a bit. “I know it’s been challenging to live in so many different places over the last few weeks.” Bo’s face is blank, but his eyes scream Boston. I offer a tight smile and walk away.

Seeking out Rae, I find her talking with her friends. She nods in my direction, and they scatter through the crowd. Wordlessly, I embrace her with all the force I can muster, tears spilling down my cheeks.

“What’s that for?” Rae pulls away, dabbing her eyes with her fingers.

“I had no idea that today was the anniversary, Rae. Bo and I never talked about it...I never asked.”

“Hey, it’s OK,” Rae takes my shoulders and pulls back, “it’s not something we harp on. It happened once, and we didn’t want it to happen every year, if you know what I mean. Like he said, we wanted it to mean something new—something hopeful.” Regan weaves through the crowd toward us and tenderly kisses Rae on the cheek.

“You two are so friggen cute, I can’t even stand it,” I change the subject, talking louder to drown the sound of Ainsley’s giggle from my ears. “Are you guys coming to the party tomorrow?” Monica and Josh’s engagement party is finally upon us, and I couldn’t be more grateful for the timing. I need a liquor release after the last few weeks.

“We are, but we won’t stay too long. Usually I spend this weekend holed up in my room somewhere, but Regan’s assured me it’s healthy to get out of the house.” Rae smiles up at Regan, who strokes her cheek and kisses the top of her head. He’s probably eight inches taller than she is, but her larger-than-life personality fills the gap.

“All right, kids, I’m heading out of here.” I rake a hand through my hair.

“Are you heading to Boston tonight?” Monica comes up behind me, linking her arm with mine.

“No, I’ve got lots to do to get ready for tomorrow.” I kiss her on the cheek. “See you then, bride-to-be.”

I return to the office to grab my bag and keys. The strap of my bag catches the arm of a chair, scattering the contents across the floor.

“Perfect,” I mumble as I sink to my knees and gather my belongings. I ignore the shadow suddenly standing over me, pretending I don’t know it’s him.

“Need some help?” I allow a glance upward and find Bo leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. His silver tie is loosened, hanging carelessly from his black shirt. This is the first time we’ve been alone since sitting in my car in his driveway.

“No. Thanks, though.” I stand and brush myself off. “That was a great speech you gave today. I didn’t know today was ...” I trail off.

“Yeah, we didn’t really cover that, did we?” Bo bends over and picks up my lip gloss that landed next to his foot. He studies it between his thumb and forefinger before handing it back to me. Our hands touch for a moment, and we simultaneously clear our throats, forcing our hands apart.

“Thanks,” I manage.

“So, I guess we won’t be seeing each other for a while, huh? Now that the center’s open and all.” Inexplicably, he closes the door behind him. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Monica’s wide-eyed stare through the window. I can’t break his gaze as he runs a hand through his hair. His eyes are more grey than blue today, taking on the emotion of the room.

“Guess not. Unless, of course, you’re coming to Monica and Josh’s engagement party tomorrow night.”

Why in God’s name did I just say that?

“Am I invited?”

“You’re friends with Josh, aren’t you? Come, it’ll be fun.”

You just can’t stop yourself.

“I’ll come.” He shrugs.

“Please don’t bring Ainsley,” I spit out before I can stop myself. Get. A. Grip.

Bo laughs as he tucks his hands into his pockets. “Don’t worry about Ainsley, Ember.” His eyes gleam as he says my name.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

“OK, then. See you tomorrow, I guess.” I breeze past him and race to my car.

When I get to my apartment a couple hours later, I tear open my guitar case and play and write until my raw fingertips meet the sunrise.





Chapter Twenty-Two



Waking on my couch late Saturday morning, I find my comp notebook splayed open on my chest, and my guitar on the coffee table. I sit and stretch my neck side to side before examining my fingers. I’m sure I’ll have a blister or two before sundown. Placing the notebook on the table, I look at what I wrote last night.

I don’t know where we’re going, but can it be

somewhere good, baby, mmmhmm

The space between your heartbeat and mine

is filled with indecision, fear, and time

I just can’t see past my own mistakes...

A knock on the door stops me from reading further. I toss the notebook on the table and open the door to find Adrian—looking rather tense.

“I called you all night, what the hell?” He brushes past me.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Adrian,” I hurry to my coffee table, “I was playing last night and didn’t want to be interrupted. I forgot to turn my phone back on when I was—”

“What the hell is this?” Adrian is aggravated as he picks up my notebook.

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