First Chance Book 3

[POV: Liam]

I toss my phone onto the bed and rake my hands through my hair. It’s not much, but it’s growing. I’m frustrated.

Part of me wants to race to Natalie, to tell her she’s making a mistake. To tell her that I’m the one she should be with.

But I can’t. My life is a mess, a pile of crap shoved into a corner. It’s not something I’d wish on her or anyone else.

What the hell am I thinking?

She deserves so much more than I could ever give her. She deserves happiness, something Ryan can provide.

I can’t offer her a life filled with laughter and sunshine, or a fairy-tale ending. I’ve never been one to want kids. Temperance is the exception, but she’s Ryan’s and Natalie’s, not mine.

I need to figure out how to get these thoughts out of my head for good. I have a feeling that simply cutting Natalie out of my life won’t do the trick.

And if I did cut her off, Ryan would question it, especially after this. Their engagement.

God. They’re getting married. She said yes. Clearly, this is what she wants. I start pulling at my hair, hoping the physical pain will numb the emotional.

It’s not working. I need something stronger. I need to get out of here. Maybe go back home for a few days. Not to Cordova, but to Los Angeles.

I need space. Time. To work through this. Being here in her room isn’t going to help me let go of these feelings.

Deciding I need to get away, I head to the kitchen to grab my car keys. Layla intercepts me.

I really don’t need this right now. Her confronting me won’t help. It’ll only make things worse. I can see the pity in her eyes. She looks at me like I’m pathetic. Weak.

“Liam,” she starts, her tone patronizing.

“Don’t. Just don’t, Layla. I need you to leave me alone. Let me go.”

“Running away won’t solve anything. It won’t help you move on. You need to face your feelings and work through them.

“This,” she says, reaching for my keys, “won’t change anything.”

“Layla, you might enjoy meddling in everyone else’s business, but I’d really appreciate it if you’d stay out of mine,” I snap at her. She flinches.

I don’t know what else to say to get her to back off. If she doesn’t let me go, I’m afraid I’ll say something even worse, something I’ll regret and can’t take back.

“I’m trying really hard not to take my mood out on you, so please just let me go, Lals,” I beg her.

“Promise you’ll come back. That you won’t run away,” she pleads.

“I can’t make that promise,” I tell her, brushing past her on my way out the door.

I’ve been driving aimlessly for about an hour, no destination in mind. Layla’s words keep echoing in my head, about running away.

Who does she think she is, assuming she knows anything about what I’m feeling? This is the girl who’s notorious for having flings that last a week, then dropping them like hot potatoes.

What does she know about love? About caring for someone so deeply that your own happiness depends on theirs?

About wanting the best for someone, to the point where you’d consider stepping aside because you know you couldn’t make them happy?

That person could never be me.

I turn the car around, heading back the way I came. I can’t run away for good, not when I’m in a band with the guy who has Nat’s heart.

So, it’s time for plan B.

Alcohol. The best way to numb any feeling you want to ignore. A few hours of bliss, courtesy of a buzz that could last until morning.

Hopefully, Zepp, Jason, and Gage are up for a night out.

***

“The heart will break, but broken live on.”

—Lord Byron