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

  Fuck. I reach up and dry my eyes. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because that jackass loves his sister. He can say what he wants, but every time he saw you with someone different, drunk or not, it killed him. There has never been any doubt of how much you loved Mia, Nick, but . . .”

  “But seeing Hannah and me, the way we were, it felt like a betrayal.”

  “Kellan will always want you to be happy.” Nicole pats my back.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore. Hannah and I are done,” I explain, gazing at her, hoping for something. I don’t know what I’m looking for.

  “Hannah isn’t someone you get over. You and I both know that. Mia knew it. It’s why she made that girl promise those things.” Nicole sneers at me, turns her back, and leaves me standing here like a dumbass.

  “Yeah, well, watch me!” I yell the threat. It sounds weak slipping from my mouth, and I hate myself more for that fact.

  With determination, I cross the field to my truck, grab a bottle of rum from the back, and take a long pull. Like a burst of wind has hit me, I spin, watching the crowd around me and taking in every little detail I can. The rum settles into a warmth inside of my stomach. Instead of enjoying the feeling, everything inside of me churns, begging to be discarded.

  “Now that you and Hannah are done, you can get back to doing what you do best, Kovac!” Jason jumps up into the bed of my truck.

  “Oh, yeah, and what’s that?” I roll my eyes, unbeknownst to him.

  A couple of the guys on the team circle around me. I’ll give them what they want. They want to be entertained by my loss, fuck it. I’ll give them a show. What else is there to do?

  “Oh, come on now, you know exactly what I mean.” Jason jumps from the bed of the truck, beer sloshing over the edges of his cup.

  A hot little thing circles his body. Her eyes are set on me, though, while she runs her finger across his chest. “Hey, Nick.”

  Before Hannah, I’d think her voice is sexy, but she’s trying too damn hard.

  Jason smiles like a cat who caught the canary. He’s brought this chick over here for one reason, and one reason only. Does he think I’m going to pull up her skirt and take her ass right here?

  “What are you up to, Little?” I shake my head, tossing the empty rum bottle to the side. “You get off on this or something?”

  “Chill out, bro.” Jason holds up his hands. He’d better, because I’m seconds away from smacking him like the little bitch he’s behaving like.

  “I’m sorry he dragged you over for this, but I’m not interested, sweetheart,” I address her while glaring at the schmuck beside her. He’s such an idiot, he doesn’t even realize I’m getting ready to pummel him.

  “Well, you know where to find me.” The girl nods at the fire and smirks an invitation to me.

  “Jesus Christ, man.” I slam my flattened hands against Jason’s chest. He stumbles backward, collecting himself before coming toe-to-toe with me.

  “What?” His eyes narrow. “Like you aren’t thinking about burying yourself inside of her.” He scans behind me. I’m sure he’s watching her ass sway. “I thought you called this party to forget for a little while.”

  “What is this, fucking therapy?” I shrug, angry this conversation is even happening. He’s right. I did come out here to forget, but no matter how angry I am, I’m not going back to that place I was after Mia died. It would be too easy. No, I deserve to sludge through this mess with clear eyes, not numbed by a stranger.

  “What, you still hung up on Coach’s daughter?” Jason scoffs. Snickers ring out around me.

  “I’m glad I’m good for a little entertainment. I mean, that’s why you all showed up here tonight, right? You heard some bullshit about Hannah and me, but let me clear the air.” As I pause, the crowd clears and up steps Kellan. “I fell for Hannah pretty damn hard, but in the end, none of that matters. It’s done and over with, so you can all stop speculating and wondering what happened.”

  I turn to leave, but red and blue lights stop my escape. Fuck. This area is secluded and unused. We’ve been partying out here since freshman year with no trouble, and tonight, of all nights, they show up.

  “If you can drive, I suggest you get in your car, and head home. If you can’t, I suggest you call your parents!” an all too familiar voice yells through the darkness.

  Everyone dives into their cars, and within minutes the field is practically empty. A few straggle behind, Kellan and Nicole included.

  Mr. James steps out of the shadows of his patrol car, and his eyes land on Kellan.

  “I haven’t been drinking, Dad, so no worries,” Kellan explains. “If you’d shown up twenty minutes later, I might have had to give a different answer.”

  “Why don’t you get Nicole home, Son?” The tone in Mr. James’ voice has my eyes narrowing and my full attention on him. He’s begging Kellan to leave.

  “What’s going on, Mr. James?” I ask.

  He leans forward, shielding his voice. “I don’t want to do this in front of anyone, Nick.”

  “What’s happening, Dad?” Kellan strides up beside me. Suddenly, we feel a little less like enemies and more like a team.

  “Mr. James,” I beg out his name.

  “Dad?” Kellan takes one step forward, shielding me from what we already know is coming.

  “I’m sorry, Nick.” Mr. James reaches onto the side of his belt and pulls out his handcuffs. The silver glistens under the moonlight. “You’re being placed under arrest. If you could please turn around.”

  “Dad!” Kellan shouts. “You have to be fucking kidding me!”

  “I’m sorry, Kellan.” Mr. James places a hand on his son’s chest, begging him not to step in the way of him doing his job. “Nick, please turn around.”

  I do as he says, holding my hands behind my back. The cuffs aren’t tight by any means, but there’s a discomfort and a disbelief in being in handcuffs.

  “Mr. James, is this about—”

  His nod answers my unfinished question.

  “Hang tight, Nick. We’ll call your parents!” Nicole yells as Mr. James leads me to the patrol car. I stall at the back door.

  “Don’t be silly. Sit up front.” He opens the door and helps me slide inside. When he’s behind the wheel and pulls out of the field, a heavy sigh echoes in my ear. “I didn’t want to do this. I want you to know that.”

  “It’s your job, Mr. James. There’s no hard feelings,” I say to ease his mind. “I made a choice last night.”

  “Doesn’t make this hurt any less, Nick. You’ve always been like a son to us. When you’re hurting, we hurt. Please know that.”

  “I don’t deserve that from you.” I stare out the window. Buildings and cars pass by in a blur.

  “What on God’s green Earth makes you believe that?” Mr. James pulls into the police station parking garage. He doesn’t give me a chance to answer before he jumps from the car and comes to stand at my door, flinging it open. “You think you don’t deserve it because you somehow betrayed my daughter, but I’m here to tell you, you did no such thing.”

  “Sir, with all due respect—”

  He holds up his hand before pulling me out of the car.

  “With all due respect, Nick, I need you to listen to me, and listen good. Losing Mia has been the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced. Her life was cut far too short. I thought of all the things she’d miss out on most nights when I laid in bed, barely able to close my eyes out of fear of what the next day would bring. Do you know what made it easier?” Mr. James’ eyes sparkle with unshed tears.

  “What, Sir?” My voice cracks in the middle. Damn, if that lump isn’t growing larger by the second.

  “She left this earth knowing what it meant to be in love, and that is only, and will only ever be, because of you. I don’t care what happened after she passed, and I don’t care what happens tomorrow. If your love had been enough, Nick, she would have lived forever.”

  “I love your daughter,
” I say because there are no other words.

  “I know you do, and I bet, for the rest of your life, you will, but don’t be a martyr. You deserve to be happy, no matter who it’s with.” Mr. James nods, ending the conversation.

  The way he says that last part doesn’t go unnoticed. He knows about Hannah. Everyone does. They all have opinions and questions. One thing they don’t have, and will never have, is answers. Mr. James can say whatever he wants, but I don’t deserve to be happy, not right now.

  Mr. James leads me into the station and once I’m in a room, quickly removes my handcuffs. Am I being interrogated? This seems awfully cut and dry. I threw the first punch. I’m at fault.

  “Mr. James, what’s going to happen now?” I ask.

  “We can’t talk to you without a parent present, Nick.” Mr. James sits down across from me, looking far too relaxed for the situation.

  I’m not sure how long we sit here, neither of us speaking. When the door flies open, and my parents storm in, my mother grasps me in a tight hug, while my father shakes Mr. James’ hand.

  “You okay?” my dad asks, standing beside my mom, the three of us a united front.

  “I’m good. Just ready to go home,” I express, looking to Mr. James for some answers.

  “You’re being charged with assault and battery for the events that occurred last night at the rink, Nick. You will be asked to stand in front of the judge come Monday morning, but luckily, since you’re a minor, and I’ve explained to the judge you aren’t a flight risk, you’ll be able to go home tonight.”

  “So, I don’t have to go to juvie or anything like that?” I ask, fear thick in my voice.

  “No, but I will let you know, you need to be careful when you mess with any Sanderson. They’re going to try to bury you. His lawyers will try to have you charged as an adult, meaning you could face harsher charges.” Mr. James looks at my parents. “That’s off the record.”

  Everything goes a little fuzzy after this point. I sit in the stark room, running my fingers over the cold metal table. My parents ask questions, while I stare off into the corner, not really hearing anything they’re saying.

  “Let’s get you home, Nick.” At the sound of my dad’s voice, I stand.

  Mr. James pulls me into a hug. “It’s going to be okay. I promise you.”

  I’m getting really sick and tired of people saying this to me. It’s not going to be okay. Promises don’t mean shit. If anyone understands this, it’s me.

  “My truck’s still out at the field,” I explain as I step out into the hallway.

  The pressure of my parents on my back proves how quick I stop in my tracks.

  “What are you waiting for?” my dad says, an amused tone in his voice.

  “We’ll wait for you outside, honey,” my mom says as she passes me. As she comes to Hannah, her eyes fall on the girl I once held at such a high revere. She places her hand on Hannah’s shoulder and squeezes once before following my father out.

  Hannah turns back to the officer behind the desk, signs something, and shuffles the paper to him. Her tired eyes glance up at me. They’re rimmed with red, and large, black circles frame the bottoms. She looks like she hasn’t slept in weeks.

  “What are you doing here?” I question, barely capable of hiding my disappointment.

  “Nicole texted me to tell me what happened,” she whispers, shuffling on the toes of those damn pink Converses.

  “Of course, she fucking did, but what does that have to do with why you’re here?” I don’t care to hear her reason and storm past her.

  “Ma’am, here’s your copy of your statement.”

  At those words, I’m struck frozen. My hand clenches the metal door handle.

  “Statement? A statement for what?” I turn and we nearly collide with each other.

  “For the events of last night. I figured they should know what happened to me, what caused the chain of events.”

  “Always the savior, Hannah Barnes.”

  “It sounds like an insult, coming from those lips of yours.”

  “I don’t need you to save me.”

  “Nonetheless, you’re in this situation because of me, Nick.” Her throat bobs up and down as she swallows. “You came to my defense, and you don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve any—”

  “Don’t.” I hold up my hand to silence her, pivoting on my heel and pressing my forehead against the door. Hearing her say what I know is coming isn’t something I’m ready for tonight.

  With my back turned, my feet refuse to budge. Two arms wrap around my middle. Every breath Hannah releases seeps through the back of my t-shirt. With my eyes clenched tight, I savor the moment her hands reach up, clutching my shirt. With an exhale, she loosens her hold, allowing one hand to slip away, while the other flattens over my heart.

  Her touch, in this moment, is like stepping into the hot shower after a day of sledding. It prickles and burns in a satisfying way you can’t quite ever understand. Instead of backing away from the source of pain, you stick it out, finding a sick satisfaction from it.

  “Nick?” Her nails dig into the flesh protecting my heart.

  I reach up, covering her hand with mine, before ripping it away. “Just go home, Hannah.”

  With rushed steps, I run outside and throw myself into the back seat of my dad’s car. He pulls into traffic, and like I can’t help myself, I stare out the window, my eyes drifting to Hannah. She stands right where I left her.

  “Can we go pick up my truck?” I say, rolling my neck from side to side to relieve some of the tension. “It’s still in the field.”

  “Kellan and Nicole dropped it off at the house,” my mom says, glancing back at me. A sad smile greets me, and her softness feels like a thousand bullets shredding my heart.

  “Are you guys not going to even yell at me?” I ask.

  Neither of them says anything. Their hands clasp together, resting effortlessly on the middle console. When we get home, my truck is in its spot. The kegs glisten under the moonlight.

  “You’ll need to return those tomorrow.” My dad raps his knuckles against the metal as he passes.

  “Seriously, no one is going to yell at me?” I shout, running after them.

  When the front door slams behind me, I stare at them, certain they’ve been switched out by pod people. I’ve done some fucked up things in the past several months, but getting arrested takes the cake.

  “Go to bed, Nicholas. Nothing we say will make you feel any worse than you already do.” My mom cups my cheek. “Tomorrow is a new day, and we got you, kiddo.”

  “Always got you!” my dad shouts as he disappears into their bedroom. My mom follows him, leaving me to a night full of uncertainty.

  I went out tonight for one thing. To forget. To disappear into the oblivion of my world. All it’s done is knock me on my ass, something I’m far too familiar with.

  Seeing Hannah step up for me, once again, is the biggest knock of them all.

  That won’t happen again. Hannah Barnes can keep showing up.

  I just won’t be here when she does.

  Chapter Two

  Hannah

  Avoidance. That’s my survival tactic. Is it working? Fuck no. Does it make me feel better? Hell yes.

  That is until I step onto this damn Greyhound bus, packed full of hockey players and a scattering of students.

  Is that a record screeching to a halt, or does everyone, all at once, create sound with silence?

  “Jesus,” I whisper.

  Curious eyes burn into me as I search for an open spot. Avoiding shitshows like this is why my mom always says to be on time. If I’d listened better, I would have been able to slink onto the bus, snatch the back seat, and plug in my headphones before anyone caught a glimpse of me.

  Halfway down this social runway, I spot Nick. His head is against the window, his headphones covering his ears. With his eyes shut, he can’t see me gripping the seat backs to maneuver through the small space. The bus jerks forward, s
ending me flying into Nick’s lap. His hands reach out instinctively and grab my waist.

  A twinge of hope zips through my body, straight to my heart. That same hope quickly dissipates when I notice he hasn’t opened his eyes. As they flutter, and he comes face-to-face with me, that hope turns to pure dread.

  “You all good?” Nick drops his hands, allowing me to stand. Before I can utter an apology, he adjusts his headphones and leans away from me, focusing on the window.

  I ease away, watching the city pass in a blur as the bus kicks up the engine, and we make our way onto the highway. The big hockey tournament is this weekend. Every year, teams from around the state who’ve qualified, come together for a weekend of games and too much testosterone.

  Nicole waves, a hardened smile on her face, as she sits next to Kellan. He pulls his arm away from her, sulking towards the window, much like Nick did to me. We both offer a shrug, silently saying ‘it’s all good’.

  Kellan is still thrashing me with his hatred, and I’m giving him the distance I believe he needs. I’m not going to beg him for forgiveness because I don’t need it from him. He’ll find a way to learn to coexist with me. Until then, I’ll hold onto the hope that we can get back to a place of comfort.

  “That was awkward,” Beckett says, patting the empty seat next to him.

  A breath of relief leaves my body, curing the ache in my chest caused by the collision with Nick. Beckett grips my waist, hoists me over his legs, and settles me in beside him.

  He shakes his head as my grin spreads wide. “Sorry.”

  “For what, picking me up like a ragdoll and depositing me into my seat?” I giggle. Completely amused by him, I grab his arm, resting my cheek on his bicep.

  His muscles flex under my grip, and he nudges me. “You okay, though?”

  “What do you think?” An unsettling pit forms in my stomach.

  Over the past week, Nick and I have spoken a handful of times. Nothing of substance. Nothing worth mentioning to Beckett. Reliving our minor run-ins will make me come across as pathetic, and I refuse to be that girl, the one who dangles from a guy’s every word.