Free Heartbreaker by J. Dorothy

The cowboy's grip on my shoulder slips and I presume he’s decided to give me up, so I’m left here with Cam.
    I stand frozen as he looks at me. Really looks at me. God that hurts to have him actually look at me. It’s the first time he has, well when I’ve been conscious. I can’t really tell what he’s thinking. Funny, I always could, but not right now. Not in this moment.
    I don’t move, even though it's killing me. I feel exposed, like I'm bare naked, and I really want to look away and crawl into a hole somewhere, but I don’t. I let him have this. I want him to see me vulnerable and weak. Because that’s what I am. He needs to see that too. He needs to move on. Jennifer Jaimeson is not for him, but I’m not for him either. The ghost of what we had is just that. He needs to stop being haunted by us and the past. I really want him to have a good life. And I’m not good. Not for him anyway. Not anymore.
    His beautiful blue eyes don’t leave me and I can’t take much more of his scrutiny. I’m just about to look away, turn away, walk away, when there’s a tap on my shoulder.
    “Bailey, honey, you alright?”
    Dad.
    I let out a breath and turn to look over my shoulder at him. “Yeah. Sorry, I got held up.”
    Dad arches a brow and then looks to Cam. “I see. Hi, Cam.”
    “Bill,” Cam replies, and I wonder when he started calling my Dad by his first name. It’s insignificant, but it says so much about how much I’ve missed.
    “You two okay?” Dad says looking between us.
    Terrific question, Dad. Where to start on that one. Then again, there’s no point starting anything. We’re done here.
    “Travis was hitting on her.”
    What? Who's Travis?
    Then I follow Cam’s eyes trailing off to settle on the big cowboy. Travis, I presume, though I’ve never met him before. And hitting on me is a bit extreme. Showing some interest maybe, but nothing major. I’ve had way worse. I shiver, and try not to think about that.
    “You cold?” Cam asks suddenly.
    “Um, no. Not cold,” I say and Cam frowns at me. I want to press out those creases on his forehead and kiss that spot, like I always used to. God, I’m so desperate.
    Why can’t I just get over him?
    Because you love him. You’ll always love him, you dumb idiot.
    Stupid thoughts! I hate the way they tell the truth of it.

eLeVeN
    ______________________________________
    It’s Sunday. Bennett left about an hour ago. I’m sitting on my bed waiting for Gerry, thinking about Friday night and Cam. He didn’t hang around long after Dad showed up, made some excuse to get back to his friends. More likely, back to Jennifer. The thought makes my throat dry and I push my nails into the palm of my hands. I wish I didn’t care. I wish I was over him. I know deep down I never will be. And that stabs at my heart even more.
    I had a thumping headache the next morning. I’d love to blame the beer, but one or two brews a hangover do not make. I used it as my lame excuse, though. Dad and Bennett never questioned it, even though I’m pretty sure they were on to me. They still let me have a slack day on Saturday, nursing my sore head, watching old eighties movies and eating pizza. Drove Bennett crazy. He hates corny, kept rolling his eyes every time I laughed at the lines from my favorite, The Princess Bride. Cam and I loved that movie. I’ve seen it about fifty times, and it never gets old. I dig the nails into my palms harder, remembering those movie nights. I really need to stop dwelling, but it’s hard to move on, when you’re stuck. And I’m stuck right now. Stuck between reliving the last two years, wishing they’d never happened, so I can go back and do it again.
    Do it right.
    Not wrong.
    If only.
    Gerry comes in smiling. She looks more cheery than usual, but is dressed in plain clothes. I immediately miss the bright colors. The black jeans and swirled mottled green t-shirt don’t look right.
    She crosses her arms, her head tilted, like she’s guessing