Supernova [On Hiatus]

THIRTEEN

"Cade."

I didn't move. I knew that voice all too well. It had been in my head and in my dreams for way too long. I stayed completely still, hoping that if I pretended he wasn't there, I wouldn't have to face him.

He sighed and sat on the cement next to me. "Are you okay?"

"No," I mumbled, almost a whine. "No, no, no."

"What's wrong–"

"You can't be here," I cried, face still buried in my knees. "You don't get to be here."

I pushed myself off the ground, backing away but finally turning to look at him. My breath caught in my throat. God, he was really here. He looked the same, just more rugged, more muscular. A black long sleeved shirt, paired with a red flannel, was pushed up at the arms, revealing tattoos I hadn't seen before. He'd grown out a bit of a beard and his hair was longer. My knees were weak.

He stood up as well, holding his hands out. "I know you hate me–"

"Hate you?!" I yelled, faking a laugh.

"Yes, I know you hate me," he said sternly. "I can explain everything if you just give me a chance."

I shook my head, backing up even more. "I'm not drunk enough for this," I muttered, turning around to re enter the club. Mac was at the table with my drink and sighed in relief upon seeing me. "Give me that." In one foul swoop, I picked up the glass, dripping with sweat from the hot atmosphere, and downed it. I was at that point where I could hardly taste it anymore. Good.

"What's the matter with you?" Mac exclaimed, wrapping an arm around my waist to hold me up. "I know your breakup was hard, but you cannot be a messy–"

She stopped abruptly, her eyes trained on something behind me. I sighed, knowing he had to have followed me in. Dylan gasped audibly, playing it off with putting his beer to his lips. Mac let go, dropping me into the chair.

Jameson strolled over, hands in his pockets. "Hi," he mumbled.

"What are you doing here?" Mac said, no emotion in her voice to give away what she was feeling. I just kept my back turned to Jameson, staring at the puddle forming around my empty glass on the table. "It's really not a good time for you to just show up."

"I know. I just–" He stopped, making me glance over my shoulder to find him already looking at me. "Could I take him home?"

"No," I answered for myself.

The room was spinning and I kind of did want to go home. But not with him. I wanted nothing to do with him tonight.

Dylan walked over to him. "You should probably just go, man," he said. "If Cade doesn't want you here, just go."

I didn't hear Jameson reply so I thought maybe he'd left. I breathed out a sigh of relief, looking back, only to see he hadn't left. Instead, he had taken a spot at the bar and was watching me. Like old times, always watching.

"I'm gonna dance," I said weakly.

Mac tried to stop me, but I was an immovable force, beelining to the dance floor. I didn't take my eyes off of Jameson's face, just like he didn't mine. The cowboy guy was still at it, so I found him and placed my hands on his shoulders, making him grin widely.

"The pretty boy is back for more!" he yelled over the music and it made me nauseous.

Jameson stared with his lips in a straight line. I refused to let him put a damper on my night any longer. I would just pretend he wasn't there. I was here for a rebound, so a rebound I would get. Even if he looked like he chewed tobacco and spit in a bottle.