Lake Larson

My reflection in the mirror screamed at me not to go on my date with Hudson, but I finished my eye makeup, huffing out. Jabbing the mascara together, I had been in a mental battle with myself for the past hour. I dreamt for years to be on the other end of Hudson's smile. A second date meant a lot to me in the past, but what about now?

Ian popped into my life as quickly as he could leave, but I couldn't get my mind off him. His hazel eyes softening when I walked into a room. His smirk slowly forming into a wide smile. Everything about him, but I would be able never have him. Ian had haunted my mind the moment he floated into my apartment like the ghost he was, reminding me we would never have a happy ending because he died years ago.

My thoughts brought me to reason number three with why I shouldn't attend the date with Hudson. We know who killed Ian, but could there be more to it?

The clock informed me, now or never. I opened my bathroom door, flipped my hair back, and paused when my eyes caught Ian. My jaw dropped open, caught in the sight before me.

Ian's bare, muscular back flexed while he dropped his shirt to the wood floor. I gasped, causing him to glance over his shoulder in shock. He spun to face me, taking the silence from the air. The ink on his chest painted fireflies like they were escaping his heart and flying over his shoulder.

I swallowed, mentally fanning myself from the heat trailing from my neck to my cheeks. Ian's abdominals seemed to be made of marble, smoothed to perfection. An artist worked a lifetime on his chest, chiseling them out slowly.

Ian strolled toward me, but my mind steadied time like a dream.

His hazel eyes wouldn't stay in one spot. "Lake, I—" He smiled vastly, focusing on me. "I was able to remove my shirt."

I let out an inaudible noise.

He grabbed my shoulders. "This is amazing!"

"Y-y-yeah," I stuttered, feeling the heat from his bare chest.

"Lake." Ian released me, closing our distance. "Why are you speechless? Being able to do this is amazing. Could mean something."

My palms glided to my burning cheeks before my forehead. I peeked into Ian's eyes, not sure if I could talk. He leaned in, causing me to turn around and look at the wood floor.

Ian's hand touched my hip. "What's wrong?"

I inhaled a deep breath and spun around to face him. "Ian," I said, gazing at his chest. "You are, um, how do I say this?" I bit my bottom lip. "Built like a Greek God." I raised my brows, making eye contact with him.

He tilted his head, smirking with a devilish grin. "So, you like what you are seeing?"

"And we are back in restart mode." I walked past him, glancing down at the blue button-up shirt on the wood floor, and picked it up.

"Way cool, huh?" Ian tugged at his shirt. "Maybe I should try my pants, too?"

I looked at him in a panic. "Please don't," I said, dropping his shirt and noticing the scar on his shoulder, the same shape as mine, but slightly smaller. "Where did you get that from?" I brushed my chilly fingers over his warm skin, happy to change the subject.

Ian wrapped his hand over mine, pushing my palm into his scar while he closed our distance. His round hazels looked deep into my eyes with sadness.

"My father."

"How?" I breathed, exhaling a breath.

"When I was about twelve, he got angry with something childish I did." His thumb rubbed my hand, keeping my skin on his. "He grabbed the nearest weapon, and a fire poker ended up in my shoulder." Ian let my hand go and turned around. "Went right through," he said, showing me the scar on his back shoulder.

My jaw dropped open, tracing the red on his perfect skin. Without thinking, I stepped closer and pressed my lips to his shoulder. I quickly jumped back, realizing the line I crossed.

"Ian," I said in a panic.

I moved away from him, restraining my eyes from his. Why did I do that? This man needed to put his shirt back on. I peeked at him, looking away quickly when we met eyes. Making the first move, but I regretted it all, seeing he had zero reaction. He stood there with no expression.

I strolled toward the door. "Got to go."

"Lake," Ian whispered.

I relaxed my shoulders, gripping the handle and watching my hand mess with the metal. "What?"

He didn't say a word until I turned around to face him. His expression softened while his eyes scanned me with sadness.

"Never mind," he said, causing my eyes to gloss over. "Have a great time."

A wall of regret slammed me in the face while I bolted out the door. I had read everything wrong. Ian saw me as a friend, nothing more. Every smile and look stored away for my dreams.

A mindless mess. I had walked to the Roost without a jacket. Goosebumps peppered my arms as I wrapped them around my torso. I raced up the stairs, tunnel vision to the entrance. Opening the door, a hand grabbed my elbow while the warmth from the inside bathed me.

"Lake," Hudson said, letting my arm go. "I've been calling for you." He smiled at the crowded tables. "I'm surprised you didn't hear me."

My eyes bounced around the gossiping students. "I'm sorry."

Hudson rested his hand on my back, guiding me to a table. "Is this a rad spot?" he asked, pulling out the stool for me.

"Yes," I replied, looking through the window at the people ice skating on the rink below. The student circled the cold, slick ground, falling at moments. Eastern Washington always had the ice rink during the winter months and basketball courts during the warmer months.

"I'll order some food and be back." Hudson placed his jacket on the stool beside mine and walked to the line.

The date was a one-person conversation while we ate. Hudson seemed to talk about himself, while I smiled and agreed with most. I spent most of the time watching the ones on the ice rink.

Hudson reached his hand over to me, gripping my forearm. "So, would you like to come back to my place?" he asked, leaning closer with his blue eyes on my lips.

"Yes," I replied too quickly without thinking, showing how much I agreed with him without meaning it. "Wait. What?"

"I was thinking, since we are both having a great time, we could continue at my place?" He seemed too eager.

Removing his touch from mine, I pulled away. "I'm sorry," I replied, glancing at my hands. "Early morning tomorrow." I lied.

Hudson smiled, shaking his head. "No problem. Maybe next time."

"Yeah." I looked at the skaters. "Maybe."

"Did you want to go ice skating?" he asked while I glanced at him blankly.

"I—" I peeked over his shoulder at the door and back at him. "Sorry, I need to end the date early."

He held his hands up with wide eyes. "No problem at all." Hudson stood from the stool, grabbing his jacket.

After he zipped his coat, he placed his hand on my back and walked behind me while we exited the restaurant. His hand interlocked with mine when the chilly air danced in my hair. Hudson's long fingers wrapped around my hand, not fitting right.

I glanced at our hands together before shifting my gaze to him. His blue eyes were already watching me.

"Did you want me to walk you home?" A puff of breath floated around his face.

I paused, pulling my hand from his. "No, I'll be okay."

"Okay," he slowly replied.

Hudson chewed on his bottom lip, gazing at my face. His hands cupped my cheeks before he leaned in and paused. His thumb brushed circles on my skin, forming the scene every girl would want, bringing me close like all the good ones do.

And his lips brushed against mine. Soft and perfect. The prince charming I had dreamed of, but he was not mine anymore.

Pulling our lips apart, the chilly air fogged around us. Hudson's kiss was perfect, but there was no spark or heart skip because he was the wrong guy. He was not Ian.

Hudson smirked before licking his lips. "Last chance to come back to my place." He pointed behind himself with a raised brow.

"Sorry, still a no."

"Okay," he said, stepping back. "I will text you about another date?" he asked as a question.

I smiled with a shy wave. "Bye, Hudson." I walked backward a few steps before spinning around to walk away.

Running in the misty air, I raced back to my dorm. The brick building appeared from the fog while light rain dripped onto my face. I paused and paced on the path before my apartment, not ready to face Ian with my feelings.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket, needing to talk to Alex, and dialed her number.

"Hey, girlie," she answered quickly.

"Hey," I replied with a huff and paused, looking at the door to the stairwell. "I can't do this."

"What's wrong?" she asked.

I closed my eyes. "I just got done with my date with Hudson."

"Yeah, how did that go?"

"Not bad, but not right," I said, confusing myself.

"Okay?" Alex's hum added a question to her statement.

I continued to pace. "I mean," I said, pulling at my hair. "Hudson is a great guy, but—" I paused.

"But he's not Ian." Alex finished my sentence.

"Yeah," I whispered.

"Why?" she asked, spinning my mind.

"I understand he could disappear any day now, but anyone can vanish tomorrow. Every day is not a guarantee for living." My feet darted toward the door. "I am wasting my short time with him, acting like I'm not deeply and madly falling for him. I would rather spend one minute staring into his beautiful eyes over a lifetime with anyone else."

Alex giggled on the other end. "Then what are you waiting for? Go tell him how you feel before your time is up."

"Thank you." I hung up the phone and jogged up my steps to pause at the door.

Watching my hand grip the handle, I froze, feeling my heart skip. I didn't know when Ian's hourglass would run out of sand or when he would vanish forever. The door banged open, hitting the wall.

Ian jumped from the bed in shock. "Lake," he said.

I pointed at him. "No!" I yelled, letting the door swing back and nudge me. "You don't get to stop me from saying what I want."

"What?" He stepped closer.

"I hate you! I loathe how arrogant you are and how you are always right about the little things. Hate when you look at me like your non-beating heart could start up again. I hate that you might disappear one day without saying goodbye," I cried toward him, letting a tear slowly drip down my cheek.

Ian's face softened while his lips parted slightly.

I shook my head. "That look right there," I whispered. "The one that could stop the sun from setting so I could view the pinks and oranges for a little longer."

He stepped closer, closing the distance, but still not close enough.

"Why?" I sobbed. "Why did fate bring the most imperfect man, only to find out he is and will always be perfect for me? Yet, I hate thinking I could never be with you till the end."

Ian balled his fists, tightening his jaw as he watched another tear trail down my cheek.

I brushed my tears away, smiling at him. "I hate that I don't despise you when I should. That your cocky billionaire ass should repulse me. I should hate you, but in actual truth, I—"

Ian took one last vast step, grabbing my cheeks and brushing his fingers into my hair. "Shut up already, so I can hate to kiss you," he whispered with a smirk.

And our lips collided, the bittersweet taste of goodbye lingering on my tongue, as I desperately clung to the fading warmth of his hazy touch.

Ian's kiss was that elusive moment I had been waiting for, like fireworks on a dark night. My heart could stop now with his, and we could vanish into the floorboards together, waiting for a photograph to bring us back.

The moment I realized love was too simple of a word. It was as simple as L-O-V-E, yet my entire body melted into those four letters. Love was as tender as his touch on my skin when our hands brushed one another, begging for more. To switch places and die a million times again for one last moment with him.

He pulled away, keeping his face close to mine. His hands stayed in my hair while he bit his bottom lip, hypnotizing me with his hazel eyes.

Smirking, Ian forced our mouths back together. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, arching on my toes. His lips parted while I mirrored him. He tightened his kiss to mine, warming every inch of my body. And like every love story, it ended as a knock on the door had us pulling apart.

I glanced over, seeing the open door swinging with a low creak. A tall man spun around, pulling his hat off his head.

"Brandon?" I asked, while Ian pulled me in closer to him.

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