Hard to Hold On (10 page)

“I understand,” she says. “
When bad things happen, it causes some to change. Not everyone is a “
coper
” . . . if that makes sense. I feel bad for him but he shouldn’t have let his emotions break it off with you. I’m sure he regrets it now—especially if he called the same night you left. Guys are complete fuck-ups, I swear. Too bad we have to live with the fuckers.”

I nod my head in agreement and Harper changes the subject quickl
y. She goes over how her major degrees of Fashion Merchandising and Interior Design are going and she even talks about Dawson a bit more. We continue our chat and it bothers me to the max that I can’t stop thinking about Nolan. It’s really time for me to call him. I’m sick of the games. As soon as I get home, we’re discussing everything and I don’t care if it takes all night as long as we’re on the right track again.

****

It’s like a fucking game of phone tag when I call Nolan. I called him as soon as I got home—before I’d even stepped foot into my bedroom—and he didn’t answer. He called back while I was in the shower but I immediately called him as soon as I saw it. Of course he didn’t answer. Now I’m staring at my phone, hoping he’ll call back.

Unfortunately, a few hours pass and my wariness gets a hold of me. I grip my phone in my hand and stare at the screen for a few minutes before
deciding to shoot him a text. I wait for ten whole minutes but he doesn’t text back and as bad as I want to wait up, my eyelids grow heavy and I end up falling asleep.

Around three in the morning and I’m
awake to six missed calls . . . all from Nolan. There’s even a voicemail. Sitting up quickly, I dial the voicemail and listen to it.

“Damn it,
Natalie. Pick up your fucking phone. Are you trying to confuse me? I don’t understand why you’ve been ignoring me and if you’re calling because you want to end what we have, then don’t. I’m not going to give up on us. I’m not letting our relationship come to an end.
I’ve worked too damn hard in keeping this going before and I refuse to let it go now. I refuse to be a part of your past.” He sighs through the phone and my heart pounds against my rib cage as he sniffles. I know for sure that he’s drunk and crying. “I just . . . I love you too fucking much, Natalie. I miss you,” he continues. “I’m sorry . . . I’m so sorry,” he sputters. “Just please stop ignoring me. Please don’t let this go.”

The phone cli
cks and I drop the phone slowly, staring down at it. Tears threaten to spill but I bite back on them. Hopping out of bed, I rush for the window and pull it open. I gulp the warm night air down that’s heavy with the scent of salt. The beach is near and the feeling is satisfying.

Instead of lingering around my window, I grab a jacket and hurry for the living room. I grab a few sheets of paper
from the coffee table, a pen, and then hurry for the balcony. All of it then pours out of me. Even with the tears blinding me. Even with the hurt lingering within my soul.

It’s a deadly feeling to be so confused and lost. To feel so hopeless and fucked up. The last few lines are what I’ll remember
the most of this lonely night:

Buried deep in hurt, freezing from heartache

Hidden behi
nd locked doors, releasing all that won’t make me

Feel again

Chapter Twelve

Nolan

“Why the hell i
sn’t she answering?” I slur, sitting on the edge of the couch.

Shrugging, Mills slumps down beside me. “Don’t know. She probably doesn’t want to be with you
r wallowing ass anymore.”

I look at him quickly,
scowling. “Yeah right. She loves me too much.”

“Sometimes you have to set the ones you love free.
” He grabs his bottle of beer from the table and takes a swig. “Not saying she’s too good for you. I just feel bad for her. I feel bad for
you
for letting her go. Now you’re miserable.”

“I know,” I groan as I sit forward.
“I feel like shit.” I take another swig of what is probably my fourth bottle of beer. I sit on Mills’s words and then terrible thoughts come to mind. What if she called to break it off? What if she keeps calling because she wants to explain why we won’t work out? “Holy shit,” I mutter, standing. I rush outside and dial her number again. I pace back and forth on the front lawn, waiting for her to pick up but of course it goes to voicemail once again. Instead of hanging up I wait for the beep.

“Damn it, Nata
lie. Pick up your fucking phone. Are you trying to confuse me? I don’t understand why you’ve been ignoring me and if you’re calling because you want to end what we have, then don’t. I’m not giving up on us. I’m not letting our relationship come to end. I’ve worked too damn hard in keeping this going before and I refuse to let it go now. I refuse to be a part of your past.” I sigh heavily and that’s when I realize that I’m actually crying. Damn it, I hate crying but it always seems to happen when I’m drunk and at my most vulnerable. But right now I don’t give a fuck. I want her to know how I feel. “I just . . . I love you too fucking much, Natalie. I miss you,” I continue. “I’m sorry . . . I’m so sorry. Just please stop ignoring me. Please don’t let this go.”

Eventually, I
run out of stuff to say and hang up. I take a few steps backwards until I’m on the porch. I sink down into one of the wooden rocking chairs and stare ahead at the empty street. The streetlight to my right is blinking and a stray cat is resting at the end of our driveway but it’s all a blur. I’m so fucking stupid for letting her go. Maybe she’s teaching me a lesson. If she is I’ve learned already and I won’t do it again. I want this grief to be over with already.

A
crazy thought then comes to mind. Pulling my lips in, I bite on them until it hurts. I stand, tuck my phone into my back pocket, and then rush for the door. I barge in and Mills flinches on the sofa, his sleepy eyes meeting mine. “Mills, we have to go back soon—next week, maybe. I can’t deal with this shit anymore.”

His eyes widen before
he frowns. “Next week? Are you fucking crazy? We can’t sell this house that damn fast.”

“We’ll come back
if we have to,” I say. “I swear. We can deal with it after I settle this shit with Natalie. I . . . I just can’t deal with this anymore. I have to tell her I’m sorry face-to-face. It’s the only way she’ll really hear me out.”

He looks me over several times before finally sighing. “You really love this girl?
You really want her back?”

“More than you think.”

“I can see that.” Standing, he runs his palms across his jeans and then stretches. “Alright. Next week it is. You know we’re already tight on money so first round of bills are on you when we get back to Miami.” He looks me over again before narrowing his eyes, his smile fading. “I’m telling you right now if we’re rushing to get over there for nothing, I’m beating your ass. You better have her back in your arms before this month is over.”

“
I will.”

“
I’m not joking, Nolan,” he scolds. Right after, he smirks. “Plus I’m only doing it because I miss my girl and I could use some of her right now.” He stumbles his way towards his room with a hearty laugh. His door shuts and I smile, realizing this is the breakthrough I need.

I’m getting her back.

Chapter Thirteen

Natalie

I don’t think I’ve been this worried to run into a guy since the first time I’d met Nolan. For some reason, I feel like running into Tyler again will be a bad thing. After the way Harper made him seem two nights ago, I know he’s going to work hard in capturing me, just like Nolan.

Sighing, I stand behind
the classroom door, checking my phone for the time. I’m five minutes late.
Great
. Now he’s making me not want to attend my favorite class of this semester.

After Nolan’s voicemail the other
night, I know we can work it out and I don’t want to move on from someone that I care for deeply . . . from someone I’m in love with. The only thing I hate is that he’s getting drunk over there.

Finally grabbing the door handle, I step inside and shut it behind me. Professor Doran looks up at me as I walk down the aisle and I allow my eyes to apologize for me as much as I can but he looks away too quickly to catch the gesture. Glancing to my left, that’s when I spot Tyler in the corner . . . at
my
regular table . . . watching
me
.

Damn it! What the hell is this guy’s
problem? Instead of going for my usual spot, I take a seat at the empty table in the middle of the room. I drop my notebook, pull out a pen, and then write down the objective of today which is Shakespeare. It’s odd how Professor Doran can go from a grunge poet to a tragically romantic play writer.

As
I write each thing down, I feel a pair of heavy eyes boring holes through the left side of my head. I force myself not to look, but the inner girl inside of me never listens and I peek over my shoulder.

Tyler is looking directly at me, his eyes soft and his lips hinting at a smirk. Today he has on a black T-shirt, dark-blue
jeans, and I have to admit he looks completely sexy. His blonde eyelashes bat at me and the pool of hazel in his eyes causes me to stare a little longer than expected. As he winks, I finally tear my gaze away.

The class carries on with the
heavy feeling of Tyler staring at me and me trying to ignore him. I don’t think I’ve ever been more relieved than now when Professor Doran gives us the cue that class is over. Tucking my notebook beneath my arm, I spin around and head for the door but before I can make it out, Tyler is right behind me.

“
If I weren’t crazy I’d think you were avoiding me,” he says over my shoulder.

“No—I’m just . . . I have a busy day today. Sorry,” I mumble, pushing the door open and not daring to hold it for him.
Damn it, Natalie. What a terrible excuse.

I continue toward
s the exit glass doors and in only an instant, Tyler jogs around me to stop me. Taking a dare to look up, I watch as a smile forms on his lips. “I’m seriously intrigued by you,” he says, his bedroom voice purring through me. “I’ve never enjoyed a chase before.”

“What makes you want to chase?”

“You’re different. Pretty. You seem like a sweet girl. What would it take to get to know you a little bit more?”

“I don’t think right now is a good time to get to know me. I told you, I’m on a
pause. I have a gut feeling the play button will be hit soon.”

Raising
an eyebrow, he licks his lips and folds his arms. “Like I said before, until it happens you’re technically single. There’ll be no harm down.” He then leans in and I take a whiff of his cologne. It’s rich and spicy. Warm and hot. Delicious and lick-worthy. “Join me at my lake house party tomorrow,” he says against my ear. Heat spirals down and I clutch my notebook to keep myself standing. “I promise I’ll make it worthwhile and if you call, I can give you the directions.” He pulls back and flashes a clean, white smile. “I won’t badger you because . . . well . . . that’s just not me, but I like you. I think you’d be cool to hang out with. I don’t know much about you but we could always change that.”

“Once again,” I say, stepping around him to push out of the other door. “I’ll think about it.”
He chuckles but I don’t hear it for very long because the door shuts behind me and I’m walking away so fast that it almost becomes a sprint. That had to be one of the most nerve-wracking moments of my life. For a second I wanted him to press those lips all over me. But why? Is he really that hot?

Tyler
does have a point at one thing, though. Nolan and I are on a break. We aren’t together and I don’t know when the hell I’m going to see him again. I know he misses me. He said it in his voicemail. I miss him, too, but I still haven’t figured out why I’m so in love with him.

Ugh. This is the most confusing time of m
y life. I’ve never been so lost.

****

When I arrive at the condo, the coffee table is pushed aside and the sofas are out of place. Harper is bending on her elbows in plank position with her blonde hair up in a sloppy bun. “Hey, Nat,” she grunts, struggling to keep herself steady. I giggle as I look up at the TV screen where a woman is saying “Breathe.”

“Since when do
you do yoga?”

“Since I realized that I’m getting out of shape. I’ve been really—” She drops on her elbows with a
nother grunt and lands on top of the purple yoga mat. “I’ve been really comfortable with myself while I was with Dawson which led to getting out of shape,” she says, completing her sentence. “We should definitely start hitting the gym.”

“You’re still upset, huh?”

Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, she sits up and pushes herself into a stand before brushing her grey pants off. “What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know. You’re really fidgety lately. You can never keep still.”

“Oh, pshh . . . please.” She gives me a disapproving wave of her hand. “I’m always on the move. I live the fast life, girl. You just don’t know how to keep up.” She makes her way around me to get to the kitchen. “Did you think about going to that party tomorrow?” she asks.