First Love (4 page)

I park the car in the driveway and get out, stretching with a long groan. The house is a huge two-story, old, white Victorian with a gigantic wrap-around porch. After my grandparents passed away, I had a few things updated. Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, my dear neighbors, watched over the renovations for me. The backyard is still my favorite place, though.

Surrounding a massive, built-in, stone BBQ pit is a large wooden deck with a luscious view of Azaleas and roses in every possible color. My grandmother loved her flowers. In the far back corner, there is a stone path that leads through a cluster of trees to the most beautiful pond. I would sit by that pond for hours when I was younger. Sitting on the deck with a drink sounds like heaven right about now.

I walk up the steps onto the porch, unlock the front door, and step through the doorway. To the left of the foyer is a large kitchen that I had updated with black granite countertops, cherry cabinets, and new stainless appliances. I couldn't wait to start using this room; it was perfect. I had all the hardwood flooring replaced throughout the entire house and new tile put in the kitchen. Off of the kitchen there is a formal dining room with a beautiful crystal chandelier in the center of the old, dark, carved wooden table. Across from the kitchen was a spacious living room with a corner stone fireplace and a large bay window looking out into the front yard. There was also a den off of the living room and a small bathroom. The entire house had been painted inside and out. I headed upstairs to check out the other changes. The bathroom in the hallway between the three guest bedrooms had been updated with new tile flooring and a more modern sink, toilet, and walk-in shower. I walk to the end of the hall to the master bedroom. I had put in a large fireplace which added to the already spectacular room. Not that I will use it much in Florida; I just love the look of a warm, inviting fireplace. There is a massive four-poster bed at one end and a large window that looks over the beautiful flower gardens in the backyard at the other. In front of the window and fireplace is a sitting area with an oversized armchair, ottoman, and side table. I can just picture myself curled up in the chair reading a good book. Next, I look in the master bathroom. A double sink had been installed next to a large garden tub. A separate walk-in, glass shower was the perfect focal point. As I was walking back down the stairs, my stomach began to growl. To the fridge, I went. When I pull the doors open, I’m surprised to find it well-stocked. Mrs. Thompson will be getting something special to thank her for that. I start a pot of coffee and make a couple pieces of toast. After I finish my breakfast, I begin unpacking my car.

W
E JUST
finished playing at a huge bar in Tallahassee. The guys and I headed up to the bar for a couple beers. Of course, by the time we made it there we were surrounded by half the women in the bar. Back in the day, when we played in L.A., none of us would think twice about hooking up with one of them, sometimes two. Now, things are different. Paul, our drummer, has a steady girlfriend. Marcus, our bass player, is married. Angel, our lead guitarist, well, nothing has really changed for him. Case in point, he is heading to the bathroom with two sexy brunettes following behind him. I was just like that for quite a few years. After a while, though, it got old. There was only one girl I ever really loved. Even after six years, it still hurts to think about her. Though she is probably married by now and long over me, I cleaned up my act a few months ago, anyway. I would never be able to move on if I kept going the way I was with a different woman every night.

A beautiful blonde came up to me and sat on my lap. She was giving me a look that said I could take her and do anything I pleased. Unfortunately, I didn’t want her.

“Sorry, doll. Not tonight.” I gently nudged her off my lap.

“You have no idea what kind of pleasure I could give you,” she purred. There was no doubt in my mind of the things she could do. I just wasn’t interested.

“Really, I’m not interested.” I turned away from her and took a pull from my beer.

“Oh...are the two of you together?” she asked, motioning between Paul and me. I spit the mouthful of beer I had out over the bar. Grabbing the towel that was laying on the bar, I wiped up my mess.

“No we aren’t together. I’m just not interested in you or any other women in this bar tonight.” She gave me a nasty look and stomped away. No wonder I never used to say no. It was so much easier to find a dark corner to fuck them and then send them on their way. So much easier than this shit.

“You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?” Paul asked with an amused look on his face. He loved to give me shit when it came to Amber.

“I can’t seem to think of much else lately.” I shook my head and drank my beer.

“Why don’t you try to find her again? She could still be just as hung up on you. Anything is possible. Plus, I have got to meet the girl that has had you tied in knots for six years.”

“You’re lucky you’re a good drummer,” I joked. “She is probably happily married and has long forgotten about my ass by now. She left me, remember?” I said with a chuckle.

I would give anything to have her back again. I went to find her once, but it didn’t go so well. She was with someone else, so I came back home. Maybe when I get back home I’ll try looking her up again. Just to see if she is still with that guy from Atlanta.

“Holly sent me a text. She hired a new waitress today,” Paul said

“Great. Someone else to keep Angel from fucking and pissing off.”

“Maybe this one’s not his type.”

“Yeah right!” I laughed. “Every women is his type.” We both burst out laughing.

T
WO WEEKS
have passed since I arrived back in Oakville. Daniel has tried to call a few times, but I just let it go to voicemail. All the messages are the same: he's sorry and wants to make sure I am okay. I don't hate him; we both did each other wrong. I should have never agreed to marry him in the first place. I didn’t love him enough to spend the rest of my life with him. That wasn't fair to him. Maybe deep down he knew it too, and that's why he looked elsewhere. I eventually texted him back, telling him I made it okay and that I was doing fine. I also told him that I thought it would be best if we didn't talk to each other … at least for a while. A clean break was for the best.

I really meant it when I said I was okay. Aside from the fact that two weeks of being in this town has triggered so many memories. It was driving me a more than a little crazy, especially realizing that after six years, I am still very much in love with Kyle Connor. No other man will probably ever compare. I have no idea where he is, who he's with, or, worse yet, if he would ever want me again. It's not like he’s going to come riding up on a white horse and sweep me off my feet. He has had six years to do that. Even if he did, do I really want to be with someone who cheated on me? We were just kids; it's not like we were mature or knew anything about relationships. It was not the same as what happened with Daniel. Or was it? Hell, I don't even know. The only thing I do know is I can't seem to get Kyle out of my head.

I had everything unpacked and put away within the first day of being back. I made a list of all the things I needed around the house and did all my shopping. I had also invited the Thompson’s over for dinner as a thank you for all their help over the last year, and so I could try out the new kitchen on someone other than myself. It was as awesome to cook in as I thought it was going to be. I read three books and polished off too many bottles of wine by myself. Needless to say, I’m getting a little bored. I need to get out of this house, get a job, do something that will keep me busy.

When I was in high school I waitressed at The Shack, a bar and grill a few miles away. I always enjoyed working there. It was really the only hang-out in town for the high school crowd. A large room set up in the back with pool tables, dart boards, and a few video games was the perfect spot to pass the hours on a Friday night. The diner was the only other place to eat in town, so business was always steady. Deciding that it would be fun to work there again, getting to know some of the new people in town or even see some of the people I grew up with, I rush to get ready. It won’t hurt to see if they are hiring. I take a quick shower and throw on some skinny jeans, a white t-shirt, and sneakers as I toss my hair up in a ponytail and head for the door.

I pull up in front of The Shack, instantly noticing that it is now called KC’s Bar & Grille. The outside still looks the same; a wooden, rustic-looking building on the water with a large deck covered in tables jutting out from the building for outdoor eating. A long wooden dock led out over the water with boat slips to tie to, offering diners a beautiful view of the lake. Typical neon beer signs hang in the windows along with a sign advertising Mondays and Wednesdays as karaoke nights. I love karaoke. I have a decent voice and enjoy singing. Though, I usually need a couple of drinks to loosen me up a little. Friday and Saturday nights are reserved for live music.