Mended (Connections, #3)(20)

A shiver ran through me and somehow I knew he was there—it was the strangest thing. I felt his stare and when I looked up into those eyes blazing with an intensity I once knew so well, they were boring into me. I felt a sharp jab of pain for what we had shared as the eyes of the boy I once loved quickly morphed into the eyes of the man I hated. The eyes I spent years looking into—the ones that sometimes look green but if you study them long enough you’ll see their hypnotic flecks of brown.

He was the same, but different in a few ways. His startling hazel eyes, his tousled brown hair, sharp jawline, and strong, lean frame hadn’t changed that much. He was so good-looking—not in a pretty or adorable way, but more in a rugged, handsome way. But he looks harder, even more closed off now. Then again, I’m sure I do too. Staring at him across the pool, I got lost in my thoughts. He was a boy no girl could ever forget. My mind filled with all the things I’d missed about him—our conversations, his protectiveness, his cocky grin, his charm, the way he said “f*ck” just because. So many things I didn’t want to remember, but they were all right here in front of me.

I never looked back and wondered if I made the right decision. Even now I know leaving Xander is something I shouldn’t be questioning. But the moment our eyes connected at the pool, all the hate I had been carrying around for years dissipated instantly. It scared me. How could just one look erase the bad memory and replace it with all the good ones? He was giving me the same look he used to give me when I’d cross the school grounds and spot him waiting for me—with his smile so genuine that his eyes lit up. It was the look that told me how much he loved me. I only stifled the need to run to him by remembering my fiancé was by my side.

Confusion tangled deep within me, but I couldn’t resist setting my sights on him again. A hint of a smile crossed my lips. God, he was magnificent—broad shoulders, lean waist, toned arms. It might sound clichéd, but even when we were both fourteen and I noticed him for the first time I thought he was tall, dark, and handsome. And I couldn’t help but fall for him. With his first grin in my direction—I melted. When he first played his guitar for me—he scored my mind. When he first kissed me—he stole my heart. And when he cheated on me—he took a piece of my soul. I was broken. His love broke me, and music was my only refuge.

I reminded myself that I hated him. I had once trusted him, confided in him, given him what I’d given nobody, and he stomped on us like we were nothing. I thought I was over him—I’d moved on long ago. But seeing him just brought it all back. The feelings I had for him were still there in my heart. I realized it the instant his stare reverberated through me and butterflies fluttered in my stomach. But I pushed those feelings aside—hate felt better than love, especially when I saw who the girl was that was standing next to him with her fingers in his hair. A wave of jealousy swept through me—I wanted to be the one running my fingers through his hair.

But seeing him was like a sign I didn’t know I was waiting for. I finally knew it was time to break off my engagement to Damon. It had been time for a while—in fact, I never should have gotten engaged to him. The man I was going to marry was not the man I wanted to marry—that man was standing across the pool.

But breaking my engagement wasn’t because of Xander—I had decided to do it before I saw him. The simple truth was Damon and I were never right for each other. I loved him in my own way. He had nurtured my talent and helped me with my career. I had trusted him in a world where trust was hard to find. But I had matured, grown up, figured out what I wanted—and we didn’t want the same things.

He wanted me to put out another album—just like the first one. He also wanted a family right away. I wanted the independence to make my own decisions. I wanted to give my career time to grow before starting a family. That left us at a crossroads in our relationship when he suddenly asked me to marry him. He wanted me to take a year off and create the album of my dreams. He said he’d help me get it out there, help me sell it, and I loved him for supporting me.

Yet his job demands had intensified, and suddenly he was insisting that I travel everywhere with him—he wanted me by his side. I had written the songs for my album, but they weren’t being produced. Damon was adamant that he knew what was right for me. Somehow I had become his arm candy and all we were doing was arguing. I was so unhappy, and I knew what we’d had for each other was gone—I just hadn’t figured out how to tell him we were over. And then, without even knowing it, Xander made it all so clear. My relationship with Damon was one of comfortable love, not true undying love. And I wasn’t going to settle.

The next day things unexpectedly came crashing down with Damon. We were at the pool and my gaze steadied on Xander again. I couldn’t help but be drawn to the sight of him. To his strong, stubbled jaw that I wanted to cup in the palms of my hands, to his pale hazel eyes that were pinned on me, to all of him. Damon saw me staring, and he must have sensed what I was feeling, because he exploded, dragging me from the pool. When I finally told him the name of the person I was looking at, he slapped me. That was it. I wasn’t sticking around any longer. I was done the moment his palm struck my face. I wasn’t going to be anyone’s punching bag. My father used to hit my mother and me until one day he just up and took off. I wasn’t going to repeat my mother’s mistakes in any way, shape, or form. Xander’s seeing me afterward made me so angry, and his concern made me furious—the hate I had for him was back in full force. I didn’t need his help—I didn’t need him.