Things were going okay. As good as could be expected. I was miserable, and Chace was happy. I was moping around, and Chace was enjoying his holiday. I was shutting myself off, and Chace was the centre of attention. How could he not be? With that bronzed body and those baby blue eyes and his luscious…I had to stop torturing myself.
I wanted to go home. But I was stuck. I didn’t have a car. I was riding shotgun in Indie’s car with Christina. The freedom that should have come along with this trip felt suffocating. I didn’t feel free. I felt trapped trying to pretend that seeing a smiling Chace every day wasn’t ripping a hole in my chest.
Indie at least attempted to liven things up for me with her terrible karaoke skills and game of I Spy a Hot Guy whenever we drove through a town. The random, and initially surprising, texts from Ryder freaking Jones distracted me sometimes. I almost dropped my phone in the ocean when I opened his first message about two days into the trip. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that Ryder would text me.
We seemed to have the same text conversation every couple of days.
Ryder: How’s the douche? Are you enjoying your trip?
Me: He’s great. No, I’m not.
He shocked me one afternoon with an unexpected offer.
Ryder: Say the words and I’ll come get you.
I couldn’t think why he would go to all that trouble to drive eight hundred kilometres to pick me up. It didn’t make sense. Something screamed at me to not trust him. The fact that he’d offered to help me get revenge on Chace out of the blue was a little unsettling and weird.
Me: What words?
I asked him while I was sunbaking on the sand, pretending not to watch Chace jump around in his sea green shorts as he tried to spike the volleyball over the net.
Ryder: Chace is an arse. ;)
Ryder’s reply made me laugh out loud, which in turn made Indie and Christina whip their heads around to look at me warily.
“What’s so funny?” Christina cocked a perfectly arched blonde eyebrow in my direction, while Indie pushed herself up to look over my shoulder at my phone.
I tucked it away under my towel. “Nothing. Don’t worry.”
Indie didn’t look convinced, but Christina had lost interest and had already turned back to watch the boys playing volleyball, cheering and clapping every time Chace scored a point.
It was wrong of me to be jealous that she was cheering him on, but I couldn’t help it. She was my best friend. She was meant to hate him as much as I tried to. But she didn’t, and I knew that. They had been friends forever, and I could never expect her to choose a side. It still didn’t stop the sting when he won the game and Christina jumped out of her chair and ran over to him, throwing her arms around his neck and squealing like she had won.
That was how our days went. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves while I just wallowed in my grief and considered sending the magic words to Ryder. But I couldn’t do it. I didn’t believe Chace was an arse. How could I believe that when I still loved him and hoped with all my heart that this road trip would make him see how much he missed me?
A couple of days after New Year’s, I was up just after sunrise ready to hit the road and move further up the coast when my world came crashing down once more. Indie was packing her things, and I loaded up her car with my stuff. Christina had packed the night before and had disappeared before we even woke up, which was a huge surprise if you knew Christina.
“I’m going to grab some coffee and look for Christina. You want some?” I asked Indie.
“Yes. I’m dying,” she said, rolling up another swimsuit to shove in her bag. How one person could make so much mess, I would never understand.
It was three days after Ryder had first offered to pick me up, and I was feeling a little better. I had only cried for two hours the previous night before falling asleep, which was an improvement on the previous few weeks. I had even attempted to do something with the bird’s nest in my hair, which was almost impossible. My hair seemed to have a mind of its own when I slept.
I made it through packing without crying and even made it to the coffee shop without a single tear escaping. Things were looking up, although I still had a lump in my throat and was trying to avoid eye contact with anyone.
And then I saw Chace—well, Chace’s back—leaning against the corner of the shop, and I realised something wasn’t right. From that distance, I couldn’t quite make out what he was doing, but I knew I didn’t want to be caught alone with him. I was sure I would have had a breakdown or something, and I didn’t want him to see me cry again. He’d seen enough of my tears.
A knot formed in my stomach. I didn’t want him to see me, so I approached the door of the coffee shop taking slow, deliberate steps and trying as hard as possible not to make a noise. I hoped I could slip inside and get my caffeine hit without having to stop and speak to him. Not that he’d probably even talk to me. A few people exited the cafe and gave Chace a weird look. Some even rolled their eyes at him.
When I did reach the door, I felt my heart shatter. Time stopped. The sounds of chatter and excitement became muffled. My vision blurred. All I could focus on was Chace pressing Christina up against the wall, kissing her like his life depended on it. My best friend and my ex-boyfriend.
I didn’t know how long I stood there watching—stuck to the spot. They seemed to have no idea I, or anyone else in the immediate vicinity, was watching. They were in their own little world. Time passed, and my vision cleared. I snapped out of whatever daze I was in and turned and ran. I ran back to the hotel, my heart shattering and crumbling into dust. I screamed as loud as I could.
It was surprisingly refreshing and made the pain a little better, but the tears I had managed to keep back still spilled over. How could they do that to me? How could she? Christina was my best friend. We’d been friends since we were eight. We’d done everything together. She had been my biggest support over the last few weeks, reassuring me that Chace was a moron, that I was better off without him, and how I didn’t need a man when I had my friends. She lied. She was a liar. A backstabber. A bi—
Indie came running out of the room to see what I was yelling about, but I couldn’t speak. I slumped to the ground and pulled out my phone. I sent a simple text to the one person who could help me.
Me: Chace is an arse.
Ryder: On my way.
Ryder’s reply was almost instant. I had to get away from them. From everyone.
And then I cried. I tried to compose myself, to pull myself together before they returned, but I couldn’t do it. Instead, I blubbered to Indie that I was leaving and grabbed my stuff from her car. She tried to stop me, but it was useless. I told her what had happened, but I was too humiliated and beyond gutted that my best friend would do something like that to stay any longer. Indie understood. Well, I thought she did.
Ryder was going to be hours, and I couldn’t be there with Chace and Christina, so I said goodbye to Indie, ignored her protests, and walked down to the beach and waited.
And waited.