The Fabric of our Souls

I sit by myself in the cafeteria.

Liam wasn’t in bed when I woke up and I couldn’t find him anywhere. I stare down at the ham sandwich wrapped in clear plastic, unenthusiastically reaching into the bag of potato chips and popping one in my mouth as I wait.

The chair next to me screeches as someone sits down. I lift my head and meet Lanston’s warm gaze. His hazel eyes are soft and comforting, his smile even more so.

“Good morning, Wynn. How’d you sleep?” He looks as tired as I feel. He hands me a paper cup of coffee and the biggest smile forms on my lips. We’re kindred souls, he and I.

“You’re the best. I slept okay, I guess. How about you? Have you seen Liam?”

Lanston takes off his baseball cap and sets it on the table. His shiny light-brown hair falls perfectly over his forehead in small waves.

“Yeah, he stopped by my room this morning. He didn’t go back to yours?” His brows pinch with worry and he searches my eyes for reassurance.

I shake my head. “No, he didn’t. Do you think he’s okay?”

He looks down at his hands as if in deep thought. Then he snaps back up. “I bet he already took off to town. Our appointment is in a few hours.”

The underground garage is cleaner than I expected it to be. The cement is uncracked and smooth. Every vehicle down here costs more than what I made in a year at my old corporate job. Sad.

I sold my soul at that job and what did it get me? More depression and more heart pills.

Lanston wears his black leather jacket. His crisp scent is earthy and pleasant. He glances back at me with a boyish grin.

“You ride, right?” He nods over to two black crotch rockets. One is mine, I can tell by the silver handles and the small, pink heart-shaped sticker on the side. The other must be his.

“You have the exact same model I do.” I laugh. It’s been ages since I’ve taken my motorcycle for a drive. Lanston picks up my black helmet off the seat and hands it to me, but when I try to take it from him, he doesn’t let go. I quirk a brow at him.

“Think you can keep up with me?”

I yank the helmet from his hands and smile. “We’ll see who’s keeping up with who.”

He laughs, and it actually reaches his eyes. He looks at me for a few moments before murmuring, “You’re going to be the end of me.”

We secure our helmets and he tosses me a pair of spare gloves. His helmet is black too, but a white line runs down the center. He revs his engine, flips me off, and peels out of the garage.

I smile beneath my helmet and giddiness fills my entire body. I haven’t felt this excited in a long time. My bike purrs between my thighs and when I jerk the throttle, my tires squeal as I tear down the runway after Lanston.

Laughter that no one else can hear pours from me and the cold air welcomes me entirely, breathing new life into my exhausted soul.

Lanston circles the driveway a few times until I pass him, then he hits his gas and races after me. I squeal and speed up to stay in front of him.

These are the perfect roads to fuck around on, long and free of traffic. I turn right once I reach the highway. We head toward Bakersville with our throttles pulled toward us, accelerating to dangerous levels. Lanston has his choked as far as it will go and flies by me at a reckless speed, putting his hand up to his helmet and motioning it like he’s blowing me a kiss.

Cocky asshole. My cheeks hurt from smiling.

I’ve needed a person like him in my life for a really long time. Him and Liam.

We reach the town and pull over at a small shop off the main street. I pull my helmet off and set it on the seat of my bike. Lanston dismounts his motorcycle and when he pulls his helmet off, he flashes me a bright smile as he mutters, “Damn, Wynn. You drive like a fucking psychopath.”

“Shut up, you’re the one who raced by me going like a hundred!”

He chuckles and wraps an arm around my shoulder. “Now, now, let’s not get into the nitty-gritty details.” We both laugh as we walk down the sidewalk of this enchanted little storybook town. I’m shocked it’s not a huge tourist spot. Every lamppost and shop window has fall decor strung up. Leaves, pumpkins, witch hats, hay bales.

This place beckons me, makes me want to sit and watch people for a bit. Curl up next to a roaring fire and sip coffee as I watch the leaves fall and hear people share laughter. Lanston glances down at me and must catch on.

“You wanna grab a croissant and sit? We sorta didn’t eat our breakfast, huh?” He lets go of my shoulder and points across the street at a cute café that’s snug between a bookstore and a pub.

“You read my mind. Should we find Liam first, though? I think he’d like that too.” I look around the shops to see if I can spot Liam.

Lanston sighs and gives me a forlorn grin. “Yeah, I know exactly where he is.”

He leads us down a few alleys before we come up to the base of a hill. We take our time climbing the cement stairs that wind up the slope to the top.

It’s a lookout over Bakersville.

When we reach the small parking at the summit, we find a white Camaro parked in the center with someone sitting on the hood, facing out toward the valley.

“Is that Liam?” I ask, not sure because the guy has his hood pulled up.

“Yep,” Lanston chirps. “Our sad little Liam.”

My chest sinks. Why is he sad? We had a great night, I thought. Is something bothering him?

“Liam?” I call over to him as I trot over to the car. He turns his head and doesn’t seem surprised to see the two of us.

“Hey,” he mutters. His eyes are sunken like he hasn’t slept for days.

Lanston sits on the hood beside him and puts his arm over his shoulder. “What’s up? You ready to head to the tat shop?” Liam doesn’t shrug our friend off like he usually does. He just remains slumped. The sight of him feeling this down carves out a piece of my heart.

“It itches bad today.”

“What does?” I say without thinking. Instantly feeling stupid, I mutter, “Oh.”

He wants to hurt himself.

But… why? I can’t help but feel this has something to do with last night. Does he regret telling me he loves me? The sting of being unwanted scorches within me.

“Is it because of me?” I flat-out ask him.

Lanston’s eyes widen at me but Liam just looks at me with disinterested, cruel eyes.

“Yeah, I guess in a way.”

Tears well in my eyes, and I fist my hands tightly to try to keep them there.

“Why are you acting like this? I thought—”

“Acting like what, Wynn? I’m fucking sick. Some days I just need to be alone, okay?” he snaps at me. I flinch and stare at him in disbelief. “You two should just leave. I’m not feeling like myself today.”

Lanston shoves Liam off the hood of the Camaro. His ass hits the ground and he doesn’t bother trying to get back up.

“Fuck you, Liam. Don’t come back until you’re going to man the fuck up and apologize. You don’t talk to friends like that. You don’t talk to her like that. I don’t care what your fucking excuse is,” he says in a low voice that sends chills up my spine.

Liam keeps his chin close to his chest, unwilling to look up at us.

“Come on, Wynn. Let’s get out of here.” Lanston grabs my hand and pulls me back toward the stairs.

My eyes linger on Liam for a few moments before I follow Lanston. The wind stirs up leaves around us. This hill creates a pocket of sorts for the current. The view is breathtaking, but my insides are tearing themselves apart.

“Lanston?”

“Yeah?”

We both keep our eyes on the steps ahead. It’s taking everything I have not to break down and cry.

“I think I’ll ride back by myself. It’ll be nice to get some air.”

His hazel eyes flick over to me and he squeezes my hand. I leave out that I’m unsure if I’ll be returning. One phone call to James and I could be on a plane out of here tonight. Or I could ride until I end up in some random-ass town.

Anywhere but here…

“Okay, but you want to grab a bite first? Let’s get a cup of coffee and hit the bookstore. Then, if you still want, you can ride back alone.” He stops as we reach the bottom and zips up my coat more. Lanston has a kindness about him like no one else in the world. His cinnamon scent and lingering smile are so infectious that even the coldest heart would thaw.

“That does sound pretty nice.” I manage a half-assed, heartbroken grin. “What genre do you like?”

He winks at me. “Dark romance where the heroine gets fucked by the psychopaths.”

I burst out laughing and he cracks a wide smile too.

“Me too. I’ll give you recs if you give me yours.”

“Deal.”