“Dammit, Landon, will you stop walking toward me?” she begged.
“I’m sorry. It’s just... it’s been a long time.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Mine,” I admitted. “Everything that went wrong with us was because of me, and I want to make up for that.”
“Stop saying that kind of crap,” she ordered. “You can’t just show up and start saying that kind of stuff, because you’ll make me say something, too.”
“Like what?” I asked. I needed to know what was on her mind. “What would you say?”
She had to be feeling it. She had to be feeling the strong connection between us, the magnetic pull that we’d always had whenever we were near one another. Never in my life had I felt a link as strong as the one I’d had with Shay.
The words that left her mouth weren’t what I was expecting to hear. I didn’t know what I was looking for—or more so, hoping for—but what she gave me felt like a knife through the heart. A piercing stab that I wouldn’t recover from.
She narrowed her eyes and spat out the words: “Ihateyou, Landon.”
38Shay
What. A. Freaking. Jerk.
What nerve Landon had walking up to me, looking all dapper, rich, and famous, like he hadn’t stomped on my heart and left me to die all those years ago. What nerve he had to keep following me around that evening. What nerve he had to keep trying to reconnect with me after all those years had passed.
I’d imagined what it would be like running into Landon a million times in the past. I’d played out scenarios of how I’d react. I’d gone through every version of it, too. There were three top situations I’d settled on the most.
1. Instant love. I’d see him, forgive him for everything he did, and ignore the fact that he disappeared, broke my heart, and left me for Sarah freaking Sims.
2. Unleash the rage of a million demons. I’d snap at him, tossing out every curse word in the Urban Dictionary, not acting my age or displaying any form of class.
3. Be like Michelle Obama. When he went low, I’d go high. I’d appear above it all. I’d smile, nod, agree, and let him know we were civil and fine. I’d comment on how we were so young when we were dating, say I’d moved on, and wish him well.
Option three was what I was trying to accomplish, but truthfully, I didn’t wish him well. There was a good period oftime I wished him massive diarrhea during a red carpet event. I wished he’d trip on the steps before accepting his many Oscars. I wished he’d go bald at thirty. There were many things I wished for Landon, but I definitely didn’t wish him well.
“I hate you,” I repeated as he stood in front of me, looking dumbfounded.
His face dropped, and my stomach rolled as I repeated the words. “I hate you so much it makes me want to scream. I hate how you just showed up at my place after all this time, with no rhyme and no reason. I hate that you walked in as if we could just be the people we were before and fall back into some normal conversation. And mostly I hate you because it was the only way I was able to stop the aching in my chest from the pain you caused me.”
“Shay—”
“Don’t.” I shook my head, feeling the whiskey coursing through my system. “Don’t do that. Don’t say my name like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like it still belongs on your tongue. I worked hard to get over you, Landon. I worked hard to get over the hurt you caused me, the heartache you created. So excuse me if I don’t feel as if we can have anything more than friendly conversation. I have to hate you, Landon,” I said, my voice low and shaky.
“Why?”
“Because if I don’t, you’ll be able to break me all over again.”
“Shay,” he pleaded, moving in closer. I kept backing up until I bumped into a wall, and he boxed me in. The heat of his body pooled around mine, and I tried to ignore the thumping of my heart pounding against my chest.
There it was—the fireworks, the angst, the indescribable feeling Landon always unleashed in me. The yin and yang of emotions he’d been able to build up inside of me confusedme so much. I wanted to push him away while pulling him in closer. I wanted to slap him and let my fingers linger against his skin. I wanted to kiss him. Gosh, I wanted to kiss his full lips that were only inches away from me, breathing their hot breaths against me, his cupid’s bow so perfectly shaped, so perfectly full, so perfectly...
No.
“Hear me out, Shay. I’m not that same boy I was when I left you all those years ago. I’ve done a lot of work on myself.”
“I know that,” I agreed. “But you never came back.‘When I get better, I’ll come back.’Remember? Or did fame make you forget?”