Curved Horizon Read online

It was no secret that Shannon’s partner, Karman de la Cruz, had no couth, but tonight she decided to worsen her reputation for tactlessness even further.

  “Daisy and Chelsea?” Karman’s dark plum lips split to make room for sharp jabs of laughter. “Chelsea will eat that poor girl alive. How’d it happen?”

  Shannon sat next to Aiden in a red upholstered booth at the diner across from Main beach. A basket full of fries was in the middle of the table among four glasses of differently flavored sodas. Shannon sipped on his, which happened to be cherry-flavored, and nodded along.

  “Chelsea’s Camellia Clock sped up,” Shannon said. “We don’t know why it happened; it just did.”

  “Neither of them seems to be too thrilled about it,” Aiden added.

  Karman turned to Aiden’s older brother, Marcus, who sat beside her. She had to move her bountiful hair out of the way to make eye contact with him and bundled it into a giant ball of dark curls at the base of her neck, fastening it in place with a hairband. “This is crazy, right?”

  Marcus barked a laugh. A pair of glasses sat on the tip of his wide nose; his dark complexion was a stark contrast to his adopted brother’s pale skin. He pointed across the table, gesturing to Shannon and Aiden with a flick of his finger. “Anything is possible.”

  Karman rolled her eyes and wagged her head. “I know. I know. Shannon and Aiden, the weirdest fucking couple ever, but let’s be realistic—this is Chelsea fuckin’ Cavanaugh we’re talking about here.”

  “Hey,” Shannon whined. “She’s my friend, be nice.”

  “She’s my friend,” Karman mocked in a high-pitched imitation of Shannon.

  Aiden tried to swallow his laughter, but it rumbled in his throat and he snorted and hid his face in his folded arms on the table. Shannon glared at him; his top lip curled in a mock snarl.

  “Seriously, Wurther.” Karman propped her elbows on the table. “Chelsea isn’t easy, okay? We all know that, you especially. And Daisy is just… different. I mean, I’m happy for them, but do they have a plan? Have they talked?”

  “Not since they timed out two days ago.” Shannon heaved a sigh and leaned against the window. His foot was curled around Aiden’s calf under the table. “They can’t put it off. They have to try to talk to each other about it.”

  “Maybe you guys can give them some advice?” Marcus offered.

  Three resounding nos of varying tones responded. Karman’s full voice drew the word out. Shannon simply chirped a very quick and easy no. Aiden was still hiding in his arms when he said it, and his shoulders shook from exasperated laughter.

  “What exactly is the big deal?” Marcus adjusted in his seat. He glanced from Karman to Shannon and finally to Aiden. “Chelsea dated Shannon in high school. I know that. Daisy I’ve known for years, and she’s sweet as pie. Why is it such a shock that the Clock would put them together?”

  Aiden rested his chin on top of his joined hands and peeked at Shannon. “That’s kind of a good question. Chelsea’s an asshole, but so are you, and we’re doing fine.”

  Shannon kicked him under the table. Aiden’s lips stretched into a playful grin.

  “Our first date was horrible,” Shannon said softly. “Our second date wasn’t even a second date; you showed up drunk and bleeding on my doorstep. Our third date…”

  One of Aiden’s eyes closed in a wink. His grin softened into something more private, a look Shannon knew well.

  “We didn’t have a normal start, is what I’m trying to say,” Shannon muttered. “These two are going to be in each other’s lives no matter what. They know this. They know we’re talking about them, they know we’re discussing parts of their lives that aren’t anyone’s business. I can almost guarantee that’s why they’re being distant.”

  Karman popped a fry in her mouth and nodded. “Yeah, they got dealt a shitty hand. You two are their best friends; they don’t even have the luxury of being able to avoid each other. They haven’t talked to either of you about it?”

  Aiden dipped a fry in ketchup and chomped on it. “I’ve been staying at Shannon’s, giving Daisy some space. She hasn’t texted me or anything.”

  “Good to give them time to digest,” Marcus said. He nudged Karman with his elbow. “It’s seven, babe. We need to pick up Fae.”

  “Look at how domestic and adorable you are,” Aiden teased, tongue stuck between his teeth.

  “Yeah, yeah, at least we don’t have matching necklaces,” Karman snapped, gesturing at the wire-wrapped crystal hanging around Shannon’s neck. She scooted out of the booth, flashed two fingers in a wave, and walked toward the door. “See you tomorrow, Wurther!”

  Marcus shook Shannon’s hand, and then proceeded to grab his little brother by the top of the head, ruffling Aiden’s grown-out buzz cut. “Dinner soon, my place,” he said, eyeing Aiden playfully, and patted his cheek with an open hand.

  After Karman and Marcus were gone, Shannon tilted his head, taking in the sharp lines of Aiden’s face. When he was like this, relaxed and a little tired, it was easier to look at him—really look. There were places on Aiden that Shannon had once been scared of, worried that if he touched them he’d pull his hand back and see blood.

  “What?” Aiden whispered.

  He touched Aiden’s cheek, then cradled his face in his palm. Aiden leaned into it; his eyebrows furrowed quizzically.

  “I remember when I used to be scared of you. I remember feeling what Chelsea and Daisy feel right now and I wish I could tell them to bypass the bullshit of trying to sort through it.” Shannon hadn’t meant to say what was actually on his mind. He’d wanted to come up with something playful and nonchalant. Nothing, can’t I look at you? This would look good on Instagram. What a view. Anything but the truth, because he knew the truth of their odd start still hurt Aiden sometimes. “I wasted a lot of time not being with you when I wanted to.”

  “We’re not wasting time now.”

  Shannon’s thumb pressed on Aiden’s mouth, felt across the bow of his top lip, and pulled gently on the bottom. “No, we’re definitely not.”

  The clock on the DVR read 3:03 a.m.

  Aiden couldn’t sleep.

  He watched Shannon breathe in the near-dark. The TV had gone off hours ago, and all that lit the loft was the glow from distant streetlights and hazy moonlight that came in through the window.

  He touched Shannon’s face; his fingertips ghosted over the barely-there stubble on his jaw, the place beneath his cheekbone, the edge of his eyebrow. Shannon stirred, and Aiden pulled his hand back.

  Wondering what happened and why it happened seemed to be a recurring thought between them. The story of their unorthodox meeting, the faulty dynamic and rocky beginning resurfaced too often for Aiden’s comfort. He thought back to the diner—Shannon’s conflicted expression, the way he faltered when he tried to talk about their own ruptured start to whatever this was. He thought back to Daisy saying I’m not good enough for her and thinking so quickly I’m not good enough for him either.

  Aiden sat up. His gaze trickled over Shannon’s shoulder to the window. He could see the outline of the ocean between buildings and he strained to see more: crashing waves, stars reflecting off the water.

  Shannon touched his elbow. “Whatsa matter?”

  “Can’t sleep,” Aiden whispered. “It’s okay; go back to bed.”

  “You forget how loud your thoughts are when you’re like this,” Shannon mumbled. He rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes, blinked, and shifted on the pillow to catch Aiden’s gaze. “Talk to me.”

  “What made it horrible?” Aiden asked. He sighed through his nose and fidgeted with the comforter. “What scared you?”

  Shannon’s tired eyes sharpened. He tilted his head back against the pillow and looked at the ceiling. The hand on Aiden’s elbow stayed there; fingers drew circles along his arm. The other he kept to himself; knuckles dru
mmed against his mouth.

  “I lied to myself the night I met you. Even after you kissed me, I kept on lying. It took a couple sleepless nights and us fighting over coffee to really put things into perspective.”

  “Put what into perspective?”

  “You being real, you wanting me, you just… existing, I guess. I didn’t think you were what I’d get to have. I thought when my Clock timed out I would be paired with someone nice and predictable who would make my life easier. I wasn’t prepared for you.”

  Aiden winced and hoped the dark covered it. His gaze shifted to Shannon’s hand on his arm; he reached out to take it and slid the back of his knuckles along Shannon’s wrist.

  “That didn’t come out very well, did it?” Shannon mumbled.

  Aiden shook his head. “Our third date or whatever it was,” he tested, feeling the words inch up his throat. “Were you scared of me that night?”

  “Yes,” Shannon said, exhaling through it. “Weren’t you scared?”

  “Yeah, of course. I was fucking terrified.”

  “Then why are we discussing this?”

  “Because I don’t know if you’re still scared of me.”

  Shannon went quiet. Sometimes when they argued or got themselves trapped in deep conversation, Shannon would stop everything to think. He’d stop his eyes from blinking and his lungs from working, Aiden wouldn’t be surprised if his heart ceased to beat when he thought that hard.

  “You’re not a rabid dog,” Shannon muttered, vowels pulled open wide. “But no, Aiden, I’m not scared of you, and I don’t think I ever was. I think I feared myself, mostly—who I might become if I fell in love with you.” He paused to sit up; his lips trailed the top of Aiden’s shoulder to the nape of his neck. “We’ve had this conversation before, you know. Many times.”

  “I know,” Aiden whispered, “I’m sorry for bringing it up again.” He turned toward Shannon. It was all nose against cheek, mouths passing by each other as they shared one breath after another, and eyelashes brushing skin. “Are you still scared of who you might become?”

  “Not even a little,” Shannon said. He kissed Aiden, let his lips persuade him to be quiet. “I’d trade any version of me for this one, as long I get to keep waking up to conversations with you at three in the morning.”

  Aiden laughed gingerly against Shannon’s mouth. “You have to be up in two hours.”

  “Might as well stay awake then.”

  He pushed Shannon down and climbed over him, hands bracketing Shannon’s shoulders, knees nudging his thighs apart. Aiden wanted to make a witty comment of some sort, play it off as though this reccurring conversation was one he didn’t take seriously, but he couldn’t. Instead he stayed busy with Shannon’s mouth and pressed his hips down to get his point across.

  They still weren’t very good at talking to each other about the things that bothered them.

  Aiden still hadn’t mustered the courage to tell Shannon his view of their beginning. About the sleepless nights, about the dreams, about the time he’d spent alone thinking of Shannon and the raw desire he’d felt after their first meeting at Laguna Beach Canvas & Sculpt.

  “Are you still scared of me?” Shannon asked. He pawed at the waistband of Aiden’s briefs.

  The light that came in through the window reflected from the whites of Shannon’s eyes. He swallowed hard when Aiden’s hand slipped between his legs. Shannon’s mouth parted, trembling over a weak sound that made Aiden shudder.

  “Not right now,” Aiden whispered and bit Shannon’s already bruised collarbone.

  Aiden didn’t know what the answer was. He liked to think it was no, of course not. Of course Aiden wasn’t afraid of this man, this person—his Rose Road, the love of his life. But seven months wasn’t forever, and Aiden had plenty of time to screw this up. He knew that.

  Maybe it wasn’t Shannon he was afraid of.

  Shannon gasped against Aiden’s shoulder; his hot breath was a wave across his skin. His fingernails dug into Aiden’s ribcage, held on, urged him to keep going.

  “Do you know how much I fucking love you?” Shannon pressed the question into the space where Aiden’s neck met his shoulder. He sounded pained and vulnerable, a testament to how short a time seven months really was.

  Aiden gripped Shannon’s jaw and forced his gaze, then watched his lips tremble, his lashes flutter. The kiss that followed was deep and hurried—a rush of breath and lips, tongues and teeth.

  Maybe Aiden was still afraid of himself.

  6

  Javi Chahal 5/18 8:04 a.m.

  Are you actually at work right now?

  Javi Chahal 5/18 10:27 a.m.

  Okay someone just told me they were in a meeting with you.

  Javi Chahal 5/18 12:01 a.m.

  We work in the same building, stop avoiding me.

  Two hands slapped the side of Daisy’s cubicle.

  “Okay, what the hell, Daisy. What’re you doing at work?” Javi’s exasperation was evident in his whisper-yell. “And why haven’t you texted me back?”

  Daisy stared at her computer screen, hoping if she put all her effort into adequately color-matching this new castle installment, the rest of her thoughts might fade away. It hadn’t been working, but it had cut her off from engaging with her peers.

  However, this wasn’t just another peer; it was Javi, her only friend at Blizzard. She talked to him outside of work, they were lunch buddies, and she enjoyed being around him. He didn’t know the ins and outs of her life or care to dig up old bones, but he liked hanging out with her and she liked hanging out with him. It was an easy friendship, casual and relaxed—a stark difference from her friendship with Aiden.

  Sometimes Daisy thought her life was a series of relationships tied around her roommate. Shannon. Chelsea. Karman. Marcus. The damn cat. Having that all-encompassing mutual attachment made other friendships seem dull.

  “I didn’t want to miss work,” Daisy said. She looked up from her chair and offered a smile, if she could call it that. “I took the day it happened off; I took the day after off, but it’s been long enough. I don’t need to sit at home and mope.”

  “That bad?” Javi bared his teeth in a grimace. “Wanna tell me over food? I have a Yardhouse coupon.”

  Daisy heaved a sigh. She glanced at the half-finished castle on her screen, then back to Javi. A bobblehead from her favorite anime stared at her from its place next to the keyboard; a framed picture from Aiden’s twenty-third birthday of her and Aiden with pizookie smeared over their faces sat next to it. “Will you judge me if I have a beer while I tell you?”

  “No judgments here.”

  Daisy nodded, grabbed her purse, and accompanied Javi through the lobby. They wove through a group of people Javi knew well; some he waved to, others he called out to with inside jokes. She looked at her phone as they walked through the front doors and stumbled when the pointed toe of her black boot caught on a raised part of the sidewalk.

  “So, do they have a gender?” Javi prompted.

  “Girl,” Daisy said.

  Aiden Maar 5/18 12:10 p.m.

  I’m coming home tonight, is that okay?

  She shoved her phone in her purse and ignored it when it continued vibrating. “Remember when I told you about my roommate, Aiden?”

  Javi nodded.

  “She’s his boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend.”

  “Wow.” Javi whistled. “That’s only a little complicated.” He tried on a lopsided smile. “At least you already know her, right?”

  Daisy’s boots clicked on the cement as they entered the employee parking lot. She played with her keychain, slid her knuckles through the holes of her cat-eared self-defense chain, thumbed over a charm, and finally grabbed the sleek button-key that would unlock her car.

  “Yeah, at least,” Daisy mumbled. She pressed the button, and her car beeped.


  A sharp gasp caught her attention.

  “Oh, wow,” Javi said over a long exhale. “Lemme guess, that’s…”

  “Yep,” Daisy snapped, trailing her gaze from Chelsea’s strappy sandals over a billowy sundress to her face, which was hidden by oversized sunglasses.

  “I was callin’ you.” Chelsea’s voice wavered as she lowered her phone from her ear. “I was in the area, and I know you’d be taking lunch soon, so I figured I might as well stop by.” Her mouth parted and closed again and again, as if she had more to say, but didn’t know how to say it. She ran her fingers through her hair, bundled the long blond locks into her palms, and fiddled with it over her shoulder. “Hi,” Chelsea managed, directing her attention to Javi. She held out her hand for him to shake. “I’m Chelsea Cavanaugh.”

  “You sure are,” Javi said under his breath, eyeing Daisy before he took Chelsea’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Chelsea. You guys go ahead,” he said, gesturing to the two women. He walked backward, nodding toward the street. “I’ll hit up the food truck.”

  Daisy gritted her teeth. “Javi, that’s okay, we can—”

  “No, no, you guys go ahead. I should take a short lunch anyway, lots to do.” Javi grinned at her, turned away, and slid his phone out of his pocket to send a text.

  Daisy felt her purse buzz. She heard Chelsea clear her throat.

  “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to.” Chelsea’s voice was softer than Daisy had ever heard it. “I meant to come by the apartment yesterday, but work got in the way.”

  “No, let’s go,” Daisy said, because she didn’t know how to say no and because the woman standing in front of her was still Chelsea—not a stranger. She waved toward the passenger door. “Get in.”

  Chelsea hesitated. She looked from Daisy’s Scion FRS to the silver Mercedes with Georgia plates parked next to it.

  “It’ll be fine here for an hour; don’t worry,” Daisy said.

  Chelsea nodded and fidgeted with her keys. She retrieved a beige purse from the back seat, locked her car, and slid into the Scion. Her gaze moved around the inside of Daisy’s car in quick, edgy movements. She looked from the miniature dream catcher hanging from the rearview mirror, to the Stormtrooper bobblehead attached to the dash, to the empty disposable coffee cup shoved in each cup holder.