Three years ago.
Jace's POV.
My eyes flutter open, squinting at the natural light spilling into the room.
The first thing that comes crumbling into my brain is that kiss and how it ended.
Shit.
It's way too early for this.
I rub my eyes, sitting up on the edge of the bed, running a hand on my face and tugging my hair at the roots.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Why does it feel like that kiss mattered, like those lips were the only lips I'd crave for for the rest of my life.
Reminder, you met this girl last Friday.
She shouldn't even be occupying my mind right now.
I groan, picking up my t-shirt from the floor, slipping into it and marching out of the room.
I hear her calling her dog from the kitchen and I halt on the staircase.
Shit.
I stare at the front door straight ahead, thinking about walking out of it without having any awkward conversations with her.
Dick move.
I descend the stairs, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning my shoulder against the frame and watching her put food for the dog.
Her eyes find me but she looks away quickly, standing up and going around the counter.
I scoff, looking to my side at the front door then back at her.
"You regret it, don't you?" I state the obvious.
She clears her throat, "What?"
"The kiss." I say.
"Oh, that, no worries, it's already forgotten." She forces a smile.
She's weird, and also, ouch.
"When do you wanna finish the painting?" I change the subject.
She grips the back of her neck, huffing.
A very irksome silence passes between us.
"Yeah, about that..." She starts, "So I don't think I... I'm not gonna go through with it so you don't have to." She shakes her head, keeping her gaze down.
"Is it because I kissed you?"
"No, it's not about the kiss."
"Then what is it?"
"I.. uh, I-"
She's cut off by the sound of the front door opening and closing, I turn my head to look at a guy with polished dark hair, wearing a white cardigan, blue jeans and white sneakers.
He narrows his eyes at me, looking curious and confused at the same time.
He slips right passed me, walking into the kitchen as though he were familiar with the place.
The dog wiggles its tail and follows him around the counter, which tells me that he's here often.
He wraps his arms around Olivia from behind and kisses her cheek.
The scene confuses me.
Brother? Neighbor? Cousin?
She said she lived alone, right?
I watch as he whispers something in her ear, she looks at him over her shoulder and puts on a smile.
Dafuq?
YOU ARE READING
Tangled Love
RomanceOlivia Conner was only sixteen when she was diagnosed with amnesia, it's been three years and she still doesn't remember half of her life but she's more than okay with that. She doesn't let that dark stormy night define her life, but when she meets...
