Ayden

  AYDEN

  MELISSA BELLE

  ISBN: 978-1-946307-09-5

  e-ISBN: 978-1-946307-10-1

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  Published in the United States of America by Autumn Ink Press.

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  This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. All names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual situations or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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  Copyright © 2018 Melissa Belle. All rights reserved.

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  No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or distributed in any form or by any means, except for brief quotes used for the purpose of review, without the prior written permission of the author. Any trademarks, service marks, or product names are the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference.

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  Cover Art: J. Hunter

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Coming Next!

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Melissa Belle

  About the Author

  To my husband, for your unyielding belief in this story, and for never letting me give up on telling it. I love you.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Bella

  Plus One.

  The two words every single woman dreads when she opens up a wedding invitation from her ex-boyfriend and sees he’s trying to be chivalrous. Kind. Possibly generous. You can bring a plus one. Sure, you can. I’m getting married, so I’m clearly not threatened, and I’ve obviously moved on. Have you? If you have, then you’ll have no problem filling in the space next to your name with a “plus one.”

  I stare at the gold embossed envelope in my lap. My work shift has just ended, but I stay sitting inside the safety of the Lucky Bay Pool Hall cashier’s booth because I need the privacy.

  With shaking hands, I reread the thick embossed page inviting me to attend the wedding of my ex-boyfriend and his new partner, about to become his husband. And I stare at the blank space where my plus one is supposed to be.

  Then, because I’m a masochist right now and old memories are center stage in my mind, I flip through my phone until I find the online video that went viral and altered the course of my life.

  Me—grainy but clearly me, naïve and barely twenty-two—on stage with my guitar at a bar in Los Angeles. Happy as can be, my long blond ponytail swinging behind me as I strum the chords to the song I’d just finished writing the night before. The camera shifts to Trevor, my boyfriend at the time, making out in the crowd with someone, someone who clearly isn’t me. Max. My manager. Who I trusted.

  The camera shifts back to me, and my horrified face as recognition sets in because somebody put the spotlight on my boyfriend and my manager in the crowd. I’ll never know who did it, who literally shined the light on the lie that was defining my life, but I’m actually grateful to the misguided angel. Because if I hadn’t found out, and Trevor and I had kept dating and built a future like we’d planned…well, my life would be in a far worse hell than it is.

  I still remember staggering home alone to my threadbare apartment that night. I was teary-eyed and lost. But then Ayden called. Ayden Wild, my best friend and lifeline since I was three years old. He asked me what was wrong, and I poured my heart out. He let out a string of curse words when I told him about Trevor.

  “I’m getting on the next flight out,” he said immediately. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, Bella.”

  I glanced at the wall behind my bed, at the postcard of the stately Lucky Bay lighthouse effortlessly withstanding the rough Maine seas. Ayden had sent me that postcard a month earlier—he had told me to tack it up so I could look at it whenever I felt homesick. The town lighthouse felt like my sanctuary, calling me home when I was feeling so lost. That lighthouse reminded me of Maine, and comfort, and Ayden.

  And that was the moment it hit me. “There’s nothing here for me anymore, Ayden.” My voice choked up as I realized for the first time how true that statement was.

  “I’m here for you, Bella.” His voice was rough and sure, and I clutched at the phone like I was holding onto him. “I’m here.”

  When I didn’t say anything, he added in a tone so low I barely heard him, “I dare you.”

  I dare you.

  Like always, Ayden gave me exactly what I needed from him.

  Shivers ran through my body, and he added softly, “Come home.”

  And I did. I hustled my way out of Los Angeles, lost any momentum of gaining a record deal, and landed back home in Lucky Bay, Maine, where I’ve been hiding inside of a cashier booth for the past three years. Life’s been better. But I look at the video whenever I need to remind myself that life can also be much worse.

  At the familiar tap-tap on the half-open cashier window, I say, without looking up from my phone screen, “Oh my gosh, Ayden, you won’t believe what I just got in the mail…”

  “Bella.”

  Ayden’s tone is edgy, and I jerk my head up.

  His ridiculously gorgeous ocean-blue eyes look back at me. His trademark navy baseball cap with the red B in the center can’t mask his somber expression; his mouth is turned down in a frown, and his handsome face is etched with tension.

  “Hey!” I reach to my right for the door handle to the booth. “What’s up?”

  “I need to talk to you,” he tells me in a rough tone. “Do you have class tonight?”

  “No. Our summer schedule is different.”

  “When you’re done working, can we go to the beach?”

  “Of course. I’m done now.” I shove Trevor’s wedding invitation into my purse and stand up.

  We leave the pool hall, and the chilly ocean breeze hits me like it always does. Glad for my cream cardigan that hangs over my jeans to mid-thigh, I inhale the salty air as we head across the wooden boardwalk toward the soft white sand. We pass by the shops and businesses that line the town square, nearly all of them closed and locked for the night.

  The lights on the boardwalk guide us along and also give me a clear view of Ayden next to me. His unruly black hair peeks out from underneath the back of his cap, and his chiseled jaw is set in a firm line, so I know he’s worried about something. His worn blue jeans fit him perfectly as always, and he strides confidently next to me in that easy way he has. I get a nice glimpse of his ass when his long strides take him just ahead of me. Carrying a brown paper bag in one hand, he shoves his free hand inside the front pocket of his dark hoodie and glances back at me with a sexy half-grin.

  “Almost there, and we’ll talk.”

  “But you’re okay?” I ask him softly as we cross the sand and walk closer to the breaking waves of the Atlantic Ocean.

  “I’m fine, Bella,” he says quickly. “I’m good.”

  Thank God.

  Once we get further away from the boardwalk lights, Ayden flicks on his phone flashlight and leads me around the jutting rock formation so we can’t be seen from the line of shops. We keep walking until we reach our favorite spot on this part of the beach—the place where we
can see the lighthouse from a distance but where we’re away from everyone in town. It’s just Ayden and me and the breaking waves.

  As soon as we take seats on the sand, our backs against the rocks, Ayden turns off his light, and we sit in silence while our eyes adjust to the moonlight. It’s shining brightly tonight and casts an even stronger glow over the water. Ayden shifts so he’s facing me.

  “Remember our most recent ‘I Dare You?’” he asks me.

  My mind starts spinning. Ayden and I started our “I Dare You” game when we were kids. Whenever one or the other of us feels stuck—from me deciding if I’m ready to snorkel in the tidal pools for the first time to Ayden struggling to choose his love of landscaping over his family fishing business—we turn the difficulty into a dare.

  Of all the times we’ve played the game, neither of us has refused a dare yet. It’s almost like a challenge thrown down, and we’re determined to carry it through. But the biggest reason we don’t turn down a dare from one another? Trust. I trust Ayden with my life. I know he’ll only choose a dare that he thinks I really need in order to move forward. And I do the same for him.

  Right now, though—I’m actually not sure what dare Ayden means. Because the only one I’ve challenged him to recently felt like such a long shot—

  “Wait—you mean when I dared you to apply to that job in California that Jaley told you about? The one where you’d manage an entire crew on your own?”

  Ayden’s straight white teeth press into his full bottom lip as he nods.

  I lean closer to him. “Did you actually do it? You sent them your resume? You never said anything, so I figured that was our one dare gone wrong, and I never brought it up again.”

  His mouth lifts up in a grin. “You dared me. When have either of us ever turned down a dare from the other?”

  I widen my eyes. “And??”

  He reaches for the paper bag by his feet and pulls out a bottle of Lucky Bay wine from the only winery in town. “And I got it. You’re looking at the new manager of Santa Monica Gardenscapes and Design.”

  I scream and throw my arms around his neck so vigorously he bangs his head against the rocks.

  “Oh my God!” I reach behind him and start rubbing his thick dark hair underneath his baseball cap. “Are you okay?”

  He’s laughing too hard to answer me.

  “Ayden? You’re okay?”

  He effortlessly pulls me onto his lap and holds me close. “I’m fine,” he says in my ear. “I appreciate the enthusiasm.”

  I shift back to look at him, and our eyes lock.

  And for one strange, out-of-body moment, I swear Ayden Wild is about to kiss me. His ocean-blue eyes are raw as they hook into mine, and his breath halts.

  Ayden and I are just friends. Best friends, for sure, but only friends. On purpose, so we don’t fuck up what makes us so good. So we don’t lose the one and only person either of us has always been able to count on.

  Right now, though, Ayden’s hot eyes are on me, and I’m clutching at his shirt, unable to tear my gaze away from his. He reaches behind me and tugs at my ponytail, using the leverage to bring me even closer to him.

  I’m surprised when I feel my body start to come alive with heat, and the crashing waves somehow sound a long way off.

  But then…

  Ayden shakes his head, almost like he’s trying to clear it of any craziness, and gently lifts me off his lap and back to the empty spot next to him on the sand.

  “So.” He clears his throat. “About the new job. It’s far away from Lucky Bay, obviously.”

  I try to calm my racing pulse. “Yes. We’ll be living on opposite coasts from each other again.”

  “Right. I wanted to make sure you were the first to know and that you heard the news directly from me,” he says, his tone unusually gentle. “It starts in mid-July.”

  “Mid-July.” I say it quickly. “Well, this is only June, right? So we’ve got some of the summer to hang out together.”

  He reaches out and his thumb strokes my cheek quickly. “Right. I’ve got to go out there for training in a few days, but that’s just Wednesday through Saturday. Other than that, you’re stuck with me until I move.”

  “I know you wouldn’t leave Lucky Bay for the first time ever if this weren’t something you really wanted.”

  He nods, his gaze searching mine. “Something I really needed. I wouldn’t leave otherwise.”

  Something about the way he says it…

  “What are you not telling me?” I ask him, worry filling my head. “I thought you were trying to challenge yourself by proving you could manage a crew year-round. And that’s just not possible in Maine with how short the landscaping season is. Plus, they have great landscaping design schools out there, and you always said you wanted to get your degree. But your face—clearly there’s something more going on.”

  He just shakes his head. “Later. Right now, I want to celebrate on the beach with my best friend.” He holds up the wine and reaches into his hoodie pocket, producing a wine opener. “I know you moved away years ago, but we all know boys grow up slower than girls.”

  I laugh at his silly joke. “Very true.” I reach out and hug him again, and his strong arms wrap around me tightly. “Congratulations,” I say into his sweatshirt.

  “Thanks.”

  His voice vibrates through my body as I hold onto him, and I swallow down my emotion. Ayden certainly isn’t the reason I left L.A., but he’s sure as hell the reason I dared to come crawling back to Maine. And he’s the only reason I wake up here with a smile on my face.

  I think I definitely need some alcohol right about now.

  Ayden and I aren’t big drinkers. But he must have known his news would unleash feelings that neither of us is necessarily ready for.

  I gesture to the wine bottle gratefully. “Let’s celebrate your big news.”

  Ayden effortlessly uncorks the bottle and hands it to me. “Ladies first.”

  I take a big sip of the full-bodied, slightly fruity-flavored wine. “This is my favorite.”

  “I know.”

  I hand him the bottle, and he takes a swig. And then another.

  He scoots closer to me. “Come on. Get buzzed with me.”

  I giggle. “You know it doesn’t take much to get me drunk, Ayd.”

  Ayden

  Two hours later, the bottle of wine is empty. And I can’t stop touching Bella. Every time a strand of blond hair slips out of her ponytail, I brush it out of her face. Which means I get to touch her soft skin—her cheeks, her neck, and the soft curve of her ears, one of which holds three tiny diamond piercings, and the other ear two. Those diamonds are my undoing right now—I have to hold myself back from nibbling at Bella’s earlobe and making her moan.

  What in the ever-loving fuck is wrong with me?

  Bella Wesley and I are just friends. The truth is, she’s far more than a friend—Bella is everything to me, and she always has been. Which is exactly why I make sure to keep her in the friend zone. Why I need to keep her in the friend zone. This decision is not up for discussion; it’s a choice we both made and hold to, no matter what.

  “Ayd?” Her voice is huskier than normal, the way it gets when she’s been drinking. “You okay?”

  I wrap my arm around her shoulders, and we sit silently on the beach, just staring out at the black ocean.

  “I’m going to miss this place.” I don’t mean to say that; it just slips out.

  “I know.”

  And that’s what I’ll miss the most. The woman next to me, who understands what I’m saying and every meaning underneath it without me having to explain. The woman who’s been there for me my entire life.

  And, because I can’t seem to stop myself, I bring up a topic Bella and I always make a point to stay away from. “How’s the tool you’re dating?”

  She backhands me in the stomach, and I laugh.

  “Trey,” she says, clearly drawing out the name on purpose, “is fine.”

 
; “‘Fine’ doesn’t sound nearly good enough for you, B.” As much as I try to hold it back, I can’t help the jealousy that creeps into my voice.

  “And we’re not ‘dating,’” she says, putting the word in air quotes. “We’ve only been on two dates. I’m getting to know him. He’s…you know, it’s just casual.”

  That’s Bella code for, “I don’t really like this guy, but I’ll date him for a while until it fizzles out and comes to an end.” I try to keep from smiling. “Okay.”

  “How are your girlfriends?” she says in response. “Jenny, and what’s the other one’s name? The one who always glares at me when I say hi?”

  I can’t help the grin that takes over my face. “Ashley. She hates you.”

  “Really,” she says sarcastically. “I couldn’t tell. Maybe she should hate your dating style instead—you know, the fact that you won’t ever commit to one woman.”

  “Maybe she should.” I lean closer to her, inhaling her strawberry and mango scent that I normally try to ignore.

  But tonight, I can’t ignore anything about Bella Wesley.

  And I’m buzzed enough that I let my body take over my brain. My fingers trail a slow path down Bella’s bare arm until I reach her waist. I circle her hip with my hand and squeeze.

  I’m not prepared for the sound that escapes her mouth. A tiny but clear moan that has my dick threatening to break through my zipper.

  I drop my hand off of her immediately and we both jump up and awkwardly brush the sand from our clothes.

  “Let’s go to the bar,” I say. “Maybe the tool and…” I can barely remember the names of the women I’ve been casually dating this spring. “And others will be there.”

  Bella

  Ayden drops the empty wine bottle into the nearby recycling can when we leave the beach and walk the half block to Lucky Bay Bar.

  God. I cannot believe I let out that sound. It was just…the way Ayden’s hot hand felt when he gripped my waist—I haven’t been touched like that by a man, well, ever. It was so possessive, so…erotic. And I couldn’t stop my reaction. That breathy sigh I made…it definitely sounded like a moan, and I’m mortified. Because clearly Ayden heard. He let go of me like I was contagious.