Waiting for the Sun (Hand Over My Heart Duet Book 2) Read online

  Waiting for the Sun

  Lindsey Iler

  Published by Lindsey Iler, 2019.

  Waiting for the Sun

  Copyright 2019 Lindsey Iler

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved. This book or any portions thereof may not be reproduced or used in any matter whatsoever without the written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Editing by Katie Mac

  Proofreading by Deaton Author Services

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Playlist

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgement

  More from the Author

  Stay Connected

  About the Author

  Playlist

  Power Over Me- Dermot Kennedy

  All You Need To Know- Gryffin (feat. Calle Lehmann)

  Overdose- Alessia Cara

  Deep End- Birdy

  No Right To Love You- Rhys Lewis

  Losing Your Memory- Ryan Star

  Be Still- The Fray

  Falling Apart- Michael Schulte

  Wildfire- Seafret

  Worst In Me- Julia Michaels

  Rush- Lewis Capaldi (feat. Jessie Reyez)

  I’ll Be Good- Jaymes Young

  Now You’re Gone- Tom Walker (feat. Zara Larsson)

  Out Of Love- Alessia Cara

  Bridge Back To Your Heart- The Beach

  Check it out on Spotify

  Dedication

  For those who have picked up the pieces of another’s broken heart...

  Chapter One

  Nick

  I’ve fought a lot of demons in the last several months, the kind that find their way deep into your soul, festering for attention. These particular demons don’t seem to want to give up the spot where they believe they belong.

  Hannah Barnes is one of my greatest demons.

  Leaving her in the rink, a mess on the floor, is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. As I turn my back, I nearly pause at the door, only to convince myself to get the hell out of there. Even with all the anger and bitterness, I know she belongs right here in my arms. We both know it. It’s what I hate most about her. Even when she ignites a fury inside me, she’s the only one who can cool me down.

  I park my truck behind my parents’ car and take a deep breath. What goes better with pain and heartache than a little bit of sorrow and nostalgia? That’s the only reason I can explain my trip down memory lane. I did the driving tour of my relationship with Mia, stopping at all the places we loved to go to together. It’s a great combination, if you’re searching for the ache we bury to keep up our perfect outward appearances.

  No one likes to admit it. Everyone tries to hide from the pulse that reminds us of what we’ve lost. I was naïve enough to think mine had died inside me the moment I fell for Hannah. She has this thing about her we’re all searching for, this special ability to make me believe anything is possible, that the hurt will go away even when it seems like it’s been there forever. She’s the kind of magic we’re all missing, yet fearful of, because while she has you looking at one hand, the other hand is making everything you want disappear into thin air.

  “We’re in here!” my mom yells from the kitchen as the front door clicks shut.

  A fire roars in the living room, casting a glow around the area. Shadows dance around me when I pass through to find my parents sitting at the kitchen island. They’re bent over a plate of nachos, laughing with each other.

  “Are you okay?” my dad asks, pushing out the stool across from him.

  This is the last thing I want to do, but after the destruction I’d caused earlier tonight, the absolute least I can do is give them some peace of mind.

  “Not really,” I admit, nabbing a chip from their plate.

  “Hannah found you, then?” my mom asks, pouring us glasses of lemonade and sliding mine across the counter.

  “She came here?” I glance around the kitchen like the thought is inconceivable. “Of course, she did.” The minute she figured out I had that letter, she came to correct it as quickly as possible. It’s more plausible that she came to play interference.

  “I may have been a little harsh. I told her if she couldn’t bring me the man you’ve been since she first started coming around, then to leave you be.” Her hand skims across the marble and rests on top of mine.

  I hate the way she can sense the brokenness inside of me. She winces when I pull away.

  “I’m going to head upstairs.” The stool skids against the tile as I stand.

  “Buddy?” The thick worry in Mom’s voice as she says my childhood nickname stops my escape.

  Facing her, I take in the wrinkles around her brow. A mother’s face never lies.

  “It hurts now, and it will hurt tomorrow. When it stops hurting so badly, that’s when you’ll see the truth.”

  Her words are worth a true moment to soak in. I sure hope she’s right.

  “I’m just going to jump in the shower. Wash off some of the bullshit from today,” I state, backing out of the kitchen.

  Eager to get out of clothes that smell like Hannah’s perfume, I take the stairs two at a time, then flip on the light of my bedroom. What the hell? It doesn’t look like anything ever happened in here. Everything is how it should be. The broken glass is gone. My desk is organized, not a single paper out of place. The salvageable frames rest on the shelves, some missing their glass.

  A few things are missing. Mia’s pink box of letters. The calendar with her birthday circled in red.

  I strip and head right into the shower. The sharp bite of the cold stream instantly relaxes me. I rest my head on the wall. Every single minute of today rolls through my mind like a Ferris wheel. It goes around and around, never stopping to let me off. When I can’t stop shivering, I wrap a towel around my waist, ready to fall into my bed and forget today ever happened.

  I pull on a pair of gym shorts and slip under the same comforter Hannah and I cuddled under one night before we were whatever we were. I lean over and grab my phone, pulling up an app I know I should be avoiding. I scroll along the feed for a short time, but nothing catches my interest.

  I click a few buttons, bringing me to Hannah’s page. Apparently, I’m a masochist now. There’s nothing new except a random photo Nicole had Peter take at the rink on Mia’s birthday. Hannah stands beside me, a wide smile on her face, but the sadness in her eyes matches my own.

  The green circle appears beside Hannah’s name, alerting me she’s online. Shit. Like she’s on to do the same thing as me, my phone pings with an incoming direct message.

  Hannah: I feel like I’ve lost my best friend.

  Me: You should be a pro at that by now.

  Those three fucking bubbles pop up on the screen, flas
hing to warn me of a message in process. This is taking far too long. My resolve is fully broken.

  Let’s blame it on the hurt. Even with every excuse, it still feels insanely cruel.

  Me: Dammit, Hannah, I’m sorry.

  Hannah: Okay.

  That’s all she’s going to say? What the hell kind of response is that to what I said? Throwing the death of Mia in her face is cruel. Even through my own anger, I can admit that.

  Hannah: Goodnight, Nick.

  Me: Just wait a second.

  What the hell am I doing?

  Me: This isn’t easy for me. I know you must think it is but it’s not.

  Hannah: Because it’s a walk in the fucking park for me? I had you. I’m selfish enough not to feel sorry about that, and now, I don’t. Something so simple feels like it’s ripping me in two.

  Me: I’m torn because on one hand, I understand why you did what you did. Then on the other hand, all I feel is betrayed, like you somehow benefited from the scariest and most devastating moment in my life.

  Hannah: That’s bullshit, and you know it.

  Me: Hannah, that’s how I feel.

  Hannah: Do you honestly think I could be so deceitful? Do you actually think I’m capable of something so cruel? It crushed me, Nick, to see you hurting so bad after she died. I never expected for us to happen.

  Me: I have to go.

  Hannah: Nick.

  Me: Not right now, Hannah.

  I toss my phone onto the bed, stupid enough to think a little sleep will make things clearer. Except I’m dead wrong. When I wake up, unrested and angrier than ever, I pull the covers off, slip on my tennis shoes, and head out for a run.

  Fresh, crisp morning air is sure to help shrink the pain in my chest. I purposefully head right out of the driveway, avoiding the left side of the neighborhood. With headphones in, an angry beat in my ears, I hit the pavement. Pumping out three miles is easy. By the sixth, my legs feel like Jell-O.

  I bend down, silently convincing my lungs to work in my favor. As I stand, I rest my hands on my head, willing the cramp out of my side. As it starts to disappear, a different kind of pain replaces it.

  Too stuck inside my own head to realize I’d run this way, the familiar front porch hits me like a bull. I haven’t been inside Mia’s home since the day she passed away. Pulling my earbuds away silences the music, and I walk to the James’ mailbox. My eyes skim to the second story, over two windows to Mia’s. Even though the white, sheer curtains are drawn, I can still remember seeing her standing there just before dusk. The setting sun would beam against the house, cascading her in this angelic-like light.

  “Dammit.” I turn away, quickening my pace until I’m in a full-blown sprint. Slipping in my earbuds, the music replaces the pounding heartbeats in my ears.

  I only slow when I hit the front step and, panting heavy, walk inside, discard my shoes in the entryway, and head to the kitchen for fuel.

  “You’re up early,” my mom observes, pulling the newspaper away from my father’s eyes. He seems shocked to see me standing here, which is completely fair after the shitshow last night. I should be hiding in my bedroom, away from the world and reality.

  “I’d prefer not to have the conversation I can see happening already.” I open the fridge and grab the orange juice, showboating the empty container after I swig the little bit that’s left. “I’ll grab some at the store.”

  “You’re going grocery shopping?” The skepticism in my mom’s voice should irritate me, but it doesn’t. “Since when?”

  “Since I don’t want to be stuck inside this house with your knowing eyes and a room that only reminds me of her,” I say, turning my back and leaving them alone in the kitchen.

  “Which her do you think he’s talking about?” my father whispers, his voice barely loud enough for me to hear him.

  I take the stairs to my room two at a time and fall to my mattress. Which her am I talking about? My eyes gaze around the room, and a flood of memories takes over everything. Mia’s soft brown hair flashes in my mind. Her laughter is the most prominent memory I have of her, and it’s like she’s sitting next to me right now. Too quickly, the memory is replaced with a vision of Hannah beneath me, running her hands over my ribs.

  Why the hell is this happening?

  I grab my phone from the bedside table and open my texts, searching for the thread with my last conversation with Mia. She had been getting ready to go to bed, and now looking back, her text should have tipped me off that her moments were numbered.

  Mia: You deserve a life of happiness, Nick. I love you.

  I read the text several times, and when I can’t take it anymore, I close the screen.

  Losing someone you love more than you love yourself causes a special kind of pain. I loved Mia beyond reason and explanation, but life decided I would need to find a way to survive without her.

  Never in a million years did I think that day would come, but like most things in life, I was unprepared for a force like Hannah.

  Even thinking about her now is a fresh wound, a deep sear on my heart. How do you care for someone so badly and still hate them? It’s a confusing feeling, but one I’m realizing I’m going to have to learn to live with.

  After a quick rinse in the shower, I throw on a pair of sweats and a long sleeve team t-shirt. Hair dripping, I pound down the steps.

  “Here’s the list,” my mom says, holding out a folded piece of paper. I raise an eyebrow, unsure of what she’s talking about. “You said you’d go grocery shopping.”

  “Fuck, I did, didn’t I?” I groan, snatching it from her and heading to the front door.

  “Just because you turn eighteen soon doesn’t mean you have permission to curse at me under my roof, boy!” she yells.

  Like I need the reminder of my birthday. Mia’s had been hard enough. Living through mine will be a special kind of hell.

  As I click the unlock button on my truck keys, I look down the street and come eye-to-eye with Kellan’s furious scowl.

  “What’s up, man?” I open the door, prepared to jump in and drive away from whatever bullshit he has to dish out.

  “Saw you lingering outside the house today,” he says, circling the bed of my truck. His hands are tucked into his pockets, more than likely to keep himself from punching me.

  “I went for a run.” I’m not really sure why I need to explain myself.

  “And you just ended up there, huh?” He shakes his head.

  “What do you want from me?” I slam the truck door. “Are you after an apology? Because I can’t give you one. Or are you in need of something else to make yourself feel better? If you can’t tell, I feel bad enough without your troubles resting on my shoulders.”

  “My troubles?” Kellan scoffs. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means what I do with my life is truly none of your business. You can fucking hate me, but I don’t need to ask your permission for anything.”

  “You couldn’t even wait half a fucking year.”

  “You didn’t seem to give a shit when I was hooking up with girls after Mia died. I’m not damn proud of that, but it happened.”

  “Just like Hannah happened, huh?” He steps to me, and I’m fully prepared to take a fist to the jaw.

  “No, not just like Hannah happened. Now, if you don’t mind, I have shit to do that doesn’t have anything to do with standing in front of my best friend, explaining myself.” I shove his chest. He stumbles back a bit but quickly recovers as I pull out of my driveway.

  It’s a little bit before noon, and the streets are nearly empty for a Saturday. Maybe I can get everything without any run-ins. I’ve already ignored nearly twenty messages. Like any of those fuckers actually give a shit how I am. They want the details. School Monday is going to be a bitch.

  I pull into the parking lot and turn the key in the ignition, savoring the silence surrounding me. Slowly, my eyes open, and my head turns to the empty passenger seat. Where I once would envision a b
eautiful brunette, now sits a tenacious blonde. I snap them shut again, hoping to erase the image of her.

  “Fuck this!” I open the door, slamming it behind me.

  As I walk into the store, a plan hits me. I’m going to pick up the things for Mom and add a few of my own.

  Fueled by an uncomfortable anger, I grab my phone from my pocket and send out a mass text, drawing a line in the sand and maybe making a decision I’m going to regret.

  I’m not the boy who loved the sweetest girl on the planet anymore. I’m not the boy who recovered from losing her. I’m sure as fuck not the boy who dug himself out of a hole and into the arms of her best friend.

  I’m just a boy who’s desperate for a little numbness, even for one night.

  *****

  “Where’s the keg, Kovac?” Jason yells.

  I hold up my red cup and point across the field.

  In the middle of the vehicles is a roaring fire, warming everyone surrounding the flames. My eyes scan over the party I pulled together in a matter of hours. We don’t need much. A large enough space, a few kegs, and music have all the makings of a good party. Something feels off, though. I had imagined this would make me feel better.

  “You all good?” Nicole slips in beside me, interrupting the internal pity party brewing in my head.

  “Not quite, but I will be.”

  “When?”

  “Why do you care? And why are you even here?” I roll my eyes like a twelve-year-old girl. “Your boy said his peace.”

  “Oh, so we’re going to pretend like you and I aren’t actually friends then? Because my boyfriend wants to be a jackass.” She tugs my arm as I turn to leave.

  “He is being a jackass, isn’t he?”

  “A jackass who loves fiercely and protects even harder.” Nicole shakes her head like she’s too pained to be stagnant. “You know, when Mia was at her worst, he’d sneak into her room at night and watch her labored breaths because he was so afraid she’d die alone. And after Mia’s funeral, he stayed the first night at her graveside because he wasn’t sure what it would feel like to sleep under their roof without her?”