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Broken Notes
-- EXCERPT: TROY “Not her,” I demanded through gritted teeth, slowly peeling my fingers away from my palm. His exasperated breath was the only sign that he’d heard me before he said, “Alexa, make it louder. A little more.” Once the music volume in the room was louder, he walked back to me. “Why, man? What’s your issue?” All my fingers finally opened, the last one painfully so. I used my left hand and scrubbed down my face. “Just trust me.” This whole situation suddenly exhausted me. Theo crossed his arms. “You know I do, but you have to trust me too. You are the last person I expected to walk in here and start insulting fucking clients, so explain or get the hell out so I can go back there and do my damnedest to get her to see me again.” A frustrated growl rose from deep in my chest, and I looked up to the ceiling, forcing myself to take a deep breath. He deserved to know. “Les is her.” I waited for a response. When none came, I forced myself to look back at him and clarified, “Les is . . . Alessa.” A second of confusion lingered before realization sparked in his eyes. His frustration dropped away and his mouth pinched as he rocked back a step. “No fucking way. What are the odds?” “Never thought there were any odds. Never thought she’d be back around here.” “I wonder why she—” “No.” My voice was sharp, my anger rising all over again. “Don’t wonder shit. Just ink her friend and get her the fuck outta here.” I stormed out the door, needing space and air and a goddamn deep breath that wasn’t tainted with any part of her. My hands touched the leather of the seat of my bike, palms flush against it, and my chin craning up, opening my airway. I inhaled the light smell of tacos from the truck a block over and watched the streetlight go from yellow to red. My fingers traced the custom stitching in the leather a bit harder as I tried to even my breaths. Even with all the time that had passed and life that had been lived—it didn’t matter. I would have known it was her if only one of my senses had been working. She smelled the same as she had all those years ago. I laughed in the least humorous way possible because, as much as I loathed it, she was every bit as beautiful as she’d been in high school too. Just like back then, she sure as hell didn’t know it now either. I leaned over and spit on the sidewalk. All I needed to do was ride away and pretend as if the last ten minutes never happened. My freedom was right in front of me, and I should climb on, gun the engine, and open the throttle. I shouldn’t go back in. With my jaw locked tight, I turned away from my bike and headed down the alley between the shop and another building. Then, as quietly as I could, I unlocked the emergency exit and let myself into the back of the shop. In the small, narrow space of the hallway, I could smell her. I inhaled deeply because my brain still wasn’t working, and I let myself think it fueled my hate, that it was only disgust punching at my skull. I refused to acknowledge that there was anything but deeply rooted loathing making my skin tight or that I didn’t care at all about what she may say or do while here. I told myself it was not because of her that I parked myself in the chair in the office, which was right next to Theo’s station, and left the door wide open while I pretended to look at his books. I had to make myself believe it all because I’d only ever been weak once before in my life. Once. For the woman named Les in room five. The girl who I knew as Alessa. 
GIVEAWAY! --
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