Fine Line (Inked Duet #1) Read online

  “Everything okay?” she asks.

  This is beyond awkward. The woman I thought was the only person I wanted, who recently married the love of her life, is asking me about the woman I have been dating for almost no time at all. Funny thing is, it feels as if I have known Autumn for years. As if she has always been mine. What Cora and Gavin have, I get it now.

  “Not sure.” I glance toward the wall with the ball racks and spot Autumn chatting with Shelly. A smile sits on her face, but it isn’t genuine. I have seen the genuine smile. “She was on the phone earlier and I overheard part of the call. Then I said something dickish.”

  Cora smiles subtly. “Your relationship with her is still very new, Jonas. But the way you both look at each other… it’s deep. You guys need time. Don’t rush it. Get to know each other. Autumn is a sweet woman. But we all have history and baggage. The older we get, the more we have.”

  I stare at my best friend straight-faced. “When did you become so wise?”

  She slaps my arm and laughs. “Jerk. I’ve always been wise.” Another laugh. “It just takes everyone else way too long to realize it and catch up.”

  “Ouch,” I say, and it has nothing to do with the playful smack a moment ago.

  Autumn walks up to us with a shy smile on her face. Without permission or announcement, Cora hugs Autumn. Cora squeezes her tight and whispers something in Autumn’s ear. Too quiet for me to hear. When Cora lets her go, she braces her hands on Autumn’s shoulders and gives her a pointed look. Autumn’s lips curve up and she nods.

  “Have a good night. See you next time,” Cora says to Autumn before turning to me. She gives me a hug and whispers in my ear next. “Assumptions are the death of relationships. Ask, but be patient. Because I love the way she makes you come to life.”

  Before Cora pulls away, I whisper thank you in her ear.

  Everyone else leaves before me and Autumn. As if they wanted to give us privacy to talk. To hash out whatever changed both our temperaments three-quarters of the way through our night out.

  On the way out of the bowling alley, I desperately want to wrap Autumn’s hand in mine. But I don’t. I feel as if I don’t deserve her hand right now. Not after how I behaved earlier. How I accused her of being dishonest.

  It was super shitty and I wish there was a way I could take it all back. Take it back and say something different. Or not say anything at all.

  But instead of giving her time to slowly divulge her past to me, I ripped the proverbial bandage off and basically forced her to explain herself. My parents would be pissed with my juvenile behavior. I am.

  Her conversation could have been completely innocent. But instead of allowing her the opportunity to tell me in her own time, I snooped and jumped to conclusions. Mom always taught my sisters and I that snooping never accomplished anything except for causing more problems. And I have learned, over the years, Mom always steered me down the correct path.

  A couple cars from Autumn’s, I reach for her hand and she lets me take it. Thank goodness.

  “Hey” —I halt us at the back of her car— “I’m really sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have been such an ass.”

  Autumn closes her eyes and essentially cuts me off from her sweet, addictive cognac irises. And the loss of her eyes on me sends a sharp pain through my chest. Slow, yet steady and debilitating. I don’t like it.

  “Jonas…” She says my name as if it causes her pain. The ice pick in my heart twists and deepens. “Please don’t make me choose.”

  I shake my head, confused. “Choose?”

  She opens her eyes and my pulse silences for one, two, three beats. “Jonas, I…” She swallows and peeks up at me. Tears stand on the ledge of her eyes, thinking of jumping. And I hate how I have put her in this place.

  “What is it, Autumn? Please tell me. I… I hate that I did this. I hate that I upset you.” I wipe away a tear that escapes and rolls down her cheek. “That I made you cry. I will never forgive myself.”

  She leans into my touch and I take it as a good sign. “Thank you. But, Jonas…” Autumn kisses my palm, then stands straighter. “I need to tell you something.”

  I bend at the knees and lower myself to her height so we stand eye to eye. “You can tell me anything,” I say.

  Her eyes dart between mine. She swallows and nods. “Jonas, I have a daughter.” Her confession comes out barely audible.

  What did she just say? Did I hear her correctly? Did Autumn just tell me she has a daughter?

  Dumbstruck, I have no clue how to respond to her confession. Does it bother me that she has a daughter? A child? No. But the only thing I know about kids I have learned from being around my nephew. Which isn’t often enough to say I have knowledge. He is cute and fun and says the craziest shit sometimes, but I don’t spend long periods of time with him.

  “Jonas?” Autumn asks after I don’t say anything for far too long.

  “Sorry. I’m just…”

  “Terrified?”

  I shake my head at her. “No. But I don’t know what to say or do next.” Her phone call earlier makes perfect sense now. And I hate how I reacted. Ugh, I am such a prick.

  “There’s nothing to do,” she says. And the way she says the words adds a new wound. But this one feels different. Deeper. Harsher. One which will leave a vicious scar. “I think we should take a break.”

  Shaking my head and pinching my brow, I stumble back from her. “Wait, what? Why?”

  Is she really doing this? Breaking up with me before we even begin. I can’t fucking breathe. Can’t hear anything except buzzing white noise. Can’t see anything except Autumn’s face slowly fading in the darkness.

  Please tell me I misheard her. Please tell me this is all a farce.

  “This is why I never dated, Jonas. Because it just gets in the way.”

  Seriously? How on earth is this reality? Two hours ago—hell, even an hour ago—everything was perfect. We were perfect. And now…

  “Is that what I am, Autumn? In the way?” Anger seeps into my veins and coats the hurt residing there. Because anger is easier to manage than heartache. Heartache and I seem to be besties nowadays.

  “Jonas, that didn’t come out right.”

  I throw my hands in the air, ready to go to battle. Hours ago, I would fight to the death for Autumn’s happiness. But this stubborn rejection she tosses at me for shits and giggles… it’s bullshit.

  “Then please, clear it up for me. Explain it so I understand.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Please don’t make this harder than it is.”

  I laugh without humor. “Why? Because you like me? Because I like you? Breaking up a relationship shouldn’t be easy, Autumn. Not when both parties feel the way we do.” Part of me wants to drop to my knees and grovel. But I won’t. Not here. Not tonight.

  “It’s just easier this way.”

  “For who? You? Me?” I step within an inch of her face and lock eyes with her. “Losing you will never be easy,” I whisper. “Never.”

  Autumn closes her eyes as if it pains her to look into mine. Good. It should hurt. Breaking off what we have, what we could have, should hurt. Nothing has ever crippled me like hearing Autumn tell me she no longer wants me.

  A tear rolls down her cheek and, this time, I don’t reach for it. Don’t swipe it away with my thumb while muttering sweet reassurances. Words which tell her everything will work out. That we will be okay. That we will survive this.

  Because I don’t believe it myself. How can I?

  “As great as we are… were…” Tears spill from her eyes more easily now. Pain floods every line and curve and dimple of her face, but she won’t admit the pain this causes her. Not aloud. Not when she believes being alone for her daughter is the right thing to do. “I can’t do this, Jonas. It wasn’t a good idea.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from saying something I will later regret. As determined as Autumn is, I will find a way to make this better. I have to.

  �
�If that’s how you feel,” I say before swallowing down the wad of cotton in my throat. “If this is what you want, I guess there’s nothing I can do to change your mind.”

  I take a step backward. Then another. And another.

  With each falter back, the pain on her face intensifies. Each move away from her, she flinches. But I refuse to be a punching bag for someone. Refuse to stand on the sidelines while she lives her life as if I don’t matter to her. Because I do. I do fucking matter.

  She won’t admit it to herself, but she cares. Maybe a little too much. And perhaps therein lies the problem.

  “Jonas,” she mumbles.

  I take another step away from her. And another. Then I spin around and stride toward my bike. After I slip on my helmet, I rev the engine louder than appropriate. I am in no condition to ride, but I can’t be here any longer. Not after everything that has happened here tonight.

  How do I go from being on the cusp of slipping the infamous L-word to breaking up with the one woman I can’t imagine life without?

  Fuck.

  I smack the handlebar as I fly down the highway. As I ugly cry for a woman for the first time in my life. As I feel my life crumbling into a pile of ash.

  Fifteen

  Autumn

  Jonas revs his motorcycle louder than polite several spaces down from me. Still standing at the back of my car, I stare glassy-eyed at him as he backs the bike out of the space then zips out of the parking lot and onto the highway faster than safe.

  And the moment I no longer see him, when I no longer hear the angry growls of the bike engine, I start shaking head to toe. My heart hammers in my ribcage. My breath coming in short bursts.

  What have I done?

  I reach behind me and brace myself on the car. Slowly, I guide myself to the driver’s side door as a torrent of tears spills down my cheeks. I fumble through my purse—frustrated as hell with my oversized bag—until I locate my keys. Drop the keys from my trembling fingers as I try to unlock the door.

  Once I finally get the door unlocked, I fall into the seat and slam the door shut. Tossing my purse on the passenger seat, I white-knuckle the steering wheel as I rest my forehead on top.

  My chest wrenches violently as the sobs continue to come. I can’t catch my breath. Can’t think clearly. And there is an ever-expanding hollowness beneath my breastbone.

  It fucking hurts. Hurts more than anything I have ever known. The exponential pain unbearable.

  I lean back into the seat with my grip still firmly on the wheel and scream at the top of my lungs. Slightly cathartic, it only serves to exacerbate the emptiness taking over my heart.

  “Why,” I scream at the windshield. “Why did I do this to myself? Why did I do this when I knew it would be a bad idea? When I knew it would end badly.”

  Simple. When your heart is involved, your brain no longer makes rational decisions.

  And Jonas was definitely in my heart. Still is.

  But doing this, breaking things off, before either of us becomes too heavily invested, is for the best. At least that is what I keep telling myself.

  How could it be for the best if it hurts this much?

  Shouldn’t I be relieved? Now I don’t have to worry about the awkwardness of being a single parent and trying to fit another person into my life. Don’t have to worry about my daughter becoming attached to a man who won’t stick around. Don’t have to worry about her little heart being crushed by losing another person in her life.

  I should be relieved, but I am far from it.

  Minutes tick by as I work to cease the dam of tears spilling from my eyes. Once they subside enough for me to see clearly, I pop the key in the ignition and start the car. I ease out of the space and exit the lot.

  The drive home is a blur. Not because I can’t see, but because I go from point A to point B on autopilot. No music to distract me. No visual stimulation to spark my brain back to life. And somehow, I make it home safely.

  After I cut the engine, I sit in the dark for a moment and try to compose myself. Surely, I look like shit. There will be no hiding what happened tonight from Penny. Nothing except time will erase the pain on my face and in my heart. Quite a bit of time.

  I suck in a deep breath and tug the handle to open the door. Each step toward the front door feels like a step closer to my demise. Where I will have to relive everything all over again. A vicious cycle of hurt on repeat.

  As I unlock the front door, the television mutes inside. When I swing the door wide and Penny sees my face, her smile vanishes as she bolts from the couch.

  “Oh my god, Auti. What’s wrong?”

  And I lose it. Again.

  Penny wraps her arms around me and holds me in a death grip hug. I cry into her neck. On her shoulder. And she gently strokes my hair and shushes me, telling me everything will be okay.

  Before I realize it, Penny has walked us to the couch and is sitting us down. She lets me cry until I am ready to stop. Doesn’t ask any questions and just lets me sob uncontrollably.

  When I finally compose myself enough to speak, everything comes out broken and stilted. “I broke up with Jonas.” A new torrent floods my eyes. Penny rises from the couch, disappears down the hall, and returns with a box of tissues. She pops one from the box and hands it to me before settling the box on the couch in front of me.

  Penny brushes fallen strands of my hair out of my face as I swipe my eyes dry. “Want to talk about it?” she asks, her tone soft and cajoling.

  I blow my nose and try to rein in my sobs so I can explain how everything unfolded at the bowling alley. When the tears settle to a lesser flow and the sobs quit wracking my body so heavily, I dive headfirst into how everything went from fantastic to shit in the blink of an eye.

  “Let me start by saying, the night had been perfect up until your phone call.”

  Penny scrunches her brow. “My call?”

  Nodding, I continue. “We bowled. Ate all the junk food from the food bar. Had some beer. Shared smiles and laughs with his friends.” I suck in a breath. Futz with tissue between my fingers. “He kissed me in front of everyone like no one else existed. It was perfect,” I whisper. “And then a couple of frames later, you called and I stepped away.”

  She reaches forward, takes my hands in hers, and gives them a little squeeze. Encouragement to continue, but also to remind me she is here. That no matter what she says, she has my back.

  “I guess he saw me walk off and followed. But I had no idea. He overheard part of my conversation with Clementine. After I hung up and saw him watching me… Pen, you should’ve seen the look on his face. It’s like he didn’t trust me. He asked who I was talking to and I told him you had called.”

  Penny snorts and shakes her head. “Truth and not.”

  I nod. “Yeah. Well, I guess he heard me tell Clementine I love her and that I’d kiss her when I got home. I never said her name. And when I told him you’d called, he flipped on me. Got upset and thought I was lying. Asked if you called for a good night often. I’d backed myself into a corner and had no idea how to get out.”

  “You should’ve told him about her then.”

  “I know,” I say as I hang my head. “But he was acting like such a jerk. And I didn’t have the energy to go into explanation right then. Plus, his friends were all waiting on us to return. When we did, they all knew something was off.”

  I go on to tell Penny how we finished the rest of the game in the thickest cloud of tension. How I got more and more frustrated with each passing moment. How I decided, when the night was over, that I would break things off with Jonas because it seemed like the right thing to do. To just cut out the heartache now. To eliminate the need to skirt around the truth. That I had a daughter and she was my world. Clementine would always stand front and center in my life, no matter how much I cared for someone else.

  “When we got ready to leave, Cora came over to me and gave me a hug.”

  “Cora? As in Gavin and Cora, Cora?”

 
“Yep. She and Jonas have been friends for years. He supposedly had the hots for her.”

  “Had?”

  “Until he met me,” I whisper.

  Penny stares at me wide-eyed. “Wow.”

  “Yeah. Well, when Cora hugged me, she whispered something to me.”

  “What?” Penny asks, leaning in closer, hungry for all the details.

  “She told me she’d never seen Jonas so happy. And she hoped he made me happy too. When she pulled out of the hug, all I could do was nod. Because I knew I was about to rip it all away.”

  A new onslaught of tears pours down my cheeks as Penny tugs me forward into her arms. God, I have never cried this much in my life. And it fucking sucks.

  I thought getting this all off my chest, spilling all my pain out, would help. That talking with Penny would alleviate some of the devastation coursing through my veins. Bring a sense of comfort and slowly wash away the heartache I know will reside in me for days or weeks or months to come. But it isn’t. If anything, it only serves to amplify it. Spark it with new life.

  Penny eases her embrace and leans back to swipe at my tears. “Auti, do you really think what you did was the right thing?”

  What? Why is she asking me this? Of all the people who I assumed would be Team Autumn, I pegged Penny at the top of the list.

  “What kind of question is that?”

  She shakes her head as she cups both my cheeks and locks eyes with me. “Don’t be upset. It’s a fair question. If you thought breaking up with Jonas was the right thing to do, you wouldn’t be crying like this. Not after dating for such a short period of time. Neither of you knows much about the other. Your relationship is, was, still in the beginning stages. You’re getting to know one another. Finding the quirks and kinks. Learning about pasts as well as likes and dislikes.” She drops her hands from my face and leans back slightly. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, Auti, but you didn’t even give him a chance.”

  I narrow my eyes at her. Did she really just say that? Or did I mishear her?

  “Let me clarify,” she says.