Drawing The Line

By Lee Jacobs

When Avery Hart's best friend Cayden was forced to move hundreds of miles away, she knew her life would never be the same. Five years later, Cayden's back... only he's no longer the sweet boy she once knew. Now he may just be the biggest jerk she's ever met. But when Avery finds herself in trouble, it's Cayden who comes to her rescue. As the old Cayden begins to emerge, Avery can't deny that she's falling for him. But when she learns that he's hiding a secret... one so big it could not only wreck her heart, but also his life... can she convince him to give up his past before it's too late?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lee Jacobs
• Release date: Mar 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393642756

Book preview

Prologue

My chest heaves as I cross the short distance between our yards. Icy rain plasters my shirt to my skin, but I barely notice. The only thing that matters is Avery. She’s the one bright spot in my life, and I’m about to lose her. Sucking in a sharp breath, I try to calm my racing heart. Staring up at her window, tears blur my vision. Pale light slips between her closed curtains. Raising my hand, I knock lightly on the window. Shivering, I wait for her to let me in.

A minute later the curtains pull back, and her beautiful face is staring out at me. Pushing open her window, she frowns. Cayden, what are you doing? It’s pouring outside. Get in here. She steps back so I can climb in. I’ve snuck into Avery’s room hundreds of times, but this could be the last time. That thought sends another stab of pain slicing through my chest. I pull myself through her window, and water drips onto her beige carpet. Sorry. I wipe the rain from my eyes, but they’re still blurry with tears.

I’ll be right back. Opening her door, she peaks her head out before slipping out into the hall. She returns carrying a large gray towel. Handing it to me, she watches me with concern in her eyes. Drying off as best I can, I slip off my sneakers and set them on the towel. I don’t want to track mud on her carpet.

What is going on Cayden? You look upset.

She’s twisting a red curl around her finger, a sure sign she’s nervous. I know everything about this girl, and I don’t know how I’m going to make it without her. The day Avery moved next door to me, had been the best day of my life. Playing outside on my tire swing, I watched as a moving truck pulled into the driveway next door. Curious, I kept watching as the door slowly opened, and this tiny girl, wearing a bright blue dress, emerged. She had stolen my heart that day and never given it back. That was seven years ago. I thought she would always live next door to me, but I was wrong. So fucking wrong.

I’m leaving.

She shakes her head in confusion. What do you mean you’re leaving?

Taking her small hand in mine, I tug her toward the bed. Sitting, I run a hand through my wet hair. I can’t look at her. I’m afraid if I do, I’ll start crying again. And it’s not cool to cry in front of a girl. I may only be twelve, but even I know that. Mom told me they’re getting divorced, and I have to move. I’m leaving with my mom this weekend. We’re moving to Chicago to go stay with my Aunt. I don’t know if I’ll be back.

Avery clutches my arm. You can’t leave. Her voice quivers, and it kills me. I never want to cause her pain. I’d give anything to take the words back, to make them not true, but I can’t.

Wrapping an arm around her, I pull her into me. I don’t want to leave, but mom won’t let me stay. She says I have to go with her. Avery wraps an arm around me. Sobs rack her small body, and I try to sooth her. Don’t cry. Pulling back, she looks up at me. Tears spill from her bright green eyes, and it’s a punch to the gut. I’ll call you all the time. Maybe I can even talk mom into letting me get my own cell phone. That way I can text you every day, bug. She smiles slightly at my nickname for her. I’m the only one allowed to call her that. She’s my little lightning bug, lighting up my world. Now she’s going to be hundreds of miles away. Placing a soft kiss on her head, I pull her close to me. It’s going to be okay. I promise, you’re always going to be my best friend. That’s never going to change.

I didn’t know when I said those words; they were a lie. It would not be okay, and sometimes you make promises you can’t keep.

Chapter One

Staring out the window , I can barely make out the old tire swing in the dying sunlight. Turning my eyes away from the window, I finish washing the dishes, placing them into the metal draining rack to dry. Pulling the stopper, I watch the dirty brown dish water swirl down the drain. How fitting. Yeah, I’m being overly dramatic, but the last couple of years have done nothing but kick me in the face. At seventeen, I’ve endured more hurt than anyone should feel in a lifetime.

I glance over at the clock hanging on the faded yellow wall above the stove. It’s close to 8:00 p.m. and dad still isn’t home. Not that this really surprises me. Over the last couple of years, dads at work more than he’s at home. Sometimes I wonder if he’s trying to work himself to death. It wasn’t always like this. Mom would never have allowed it. Without her, the house doesn’t feel like home anymore. It’s a former shell of itself, just like the people living inside its walls.

Shaking off the melancholy, I head down the hall to my bedroom. Opening my door, I flop down on my bed, and stare up at the twinkle lights strung around my room. My phone vibrates beside me, grabbing it I swipe to unlock it. It’s a text from Sara.

Sara: HELP ME

I can’t stop the laugh from bubbling out. Sara, one of my best friends, is staying at her grandparents’ house in New York for the summer. She won’t be home until sometime next week. We hoped that Sara’s parents would relent and let her stay here for the summer, since it’s the last one before our senior year. But much to our disappointment, they insisted she spend some quality time with her grandparents. Sara loves New York, but her grandparents are old-fashioned and keep dragging her to their friend’s house for tea parties and bingo nights.

Me: What did they drag you to this time? LOL.

Sara: It’s not funny. They took me to bingo and tried to set me up with one of their friends’ grand kid. He is 15!!

Me: LOL-Oh, that’s just too funny. Take a picture for me!

Sara: she sends me the middle finger emoji

Laughing, I turn off my phone and slip under the covers. Turning on the TV I, flip through Netflix, finally settling on an old episode of The Vampire Diaries. I watch a few episodes until my eyelids grow heavy. Glancing at the clock on my nightstand, I sigh. It’s after 11:00 p.m., and dad still isn’t home. I guess I won’t be seeing him tonight. Grabbing the remote, I turn off the TV, plunging my room into darkness.

BRIGHT SUNLIGHT SPILLS in through my curtains. Wincing, I push my hair off my face and stifle a yawn. It’s too early to be awake, but with school starting soon, I must get myself back into the habit of getting up early again. Shuddering at the thought; I am so not a morning person. The smell of coffee lures me into the kitchen. Dad’s already sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and his newspaper. He glances up from his paper when he hears me come into the kitchen. Dark smudges mar the skin beneath his eyes. It doesn’t matter how late he gets home; he always gets up early. I don’t know how he does it. I can barely function with eight hours of sleep.

When did you get in last night?

Dad flips to another section of his paper before answering me. I think it was around 1:00 a.m. 

Dad, you really need to stop working so late, you’re going to work yourself to death. He takes another sip of his coffee and pats a fist on his chest. I’m as fit as a fiddle, stop worrying so much Avery. Shaking my head in frustration, that’s the same answer he always gives me anytime I mention his late hours. Dad is an architect and works for a large firm downtown. They must enjoy all the extra time my dad’s been putting in over the last few years, but I’m not. I miss spending time with him. He smiles and pats the chair next to him. Sit and have a cup of coffee with your old man.

I get my caffeine addiction from him; he drinks it all hours of the day. Grabbing the creamer from the fridge, I pour myself a cup of coffee and walk over to the table. Pulling out a chair, I sit next to him. I look over at him while he reads the paper. His hair used to be a dark brown, but now it’s mostly gray.

Picking up my mug of coffee, I take a sip, letting the warm liquid coat my throat. So, do you have any plans for the day? I shake my head. My art program ended yesterday, so that leaves me with nothing but free time until school starts back up. I might go for a run later. Dad nods his head, but he’s already lost interest in our conversation and is back to reading his paper.

We finish our coffee in silence. When I’m done, I take my cup over to the sink. Glancing out the window, I see a black Honda pulling into the driveway next door. That’s odd, the Monroe’s rarely have visitors, especially this early on a Saturday morning. For a long minute no one gets out of the car, and I’m wondering if they’ve pulled into the wrong driveway. I’m just about to turn away, when the driver’s side door opens, and one jean clad leg appears. Climbing out of the car, the driver leans a heavily tattooed arm on top of the car door. He’s facing away from me, so I’m not able to get a good look at his face.

Shaking his head, he runs a hand through his hair. Slamming the car door shut, he walks around to the trunk. Opening the trunk, he reaches in, pulling out two large duffel bags... and it’s official, I’m a creeper, but I can’t seem to look away. Who the hell is this guy? Closing the trunk, he makes his way slowly up the driveway, and it’s almost like he can feel my eyes on him, because he stops and turns, looking directly toward the window, I’m staring out of.

Holy crap! Sucking in a sharp breath, I gasp. I’d know that face anywhere. The once boyishly round face is now all hardness and sharp angles, but I still recognize him. My heart races at the sight of him, at the boy I used to call my best friend. The very same boy who held my heart in his hands and then broke it into a million little pieces. Cayden Freaking Monroe is standing in his driveway, looking hotter than sin. I must be having a nightmare because this can’t be happening. Not now, not after all this time. I pinch myself, and nearly yelp at the sharp sting. Damn, guess I am really awake.

Dad looks over at me, glancing at my hands that are now gripping the sink for support. Avery, are you okay?

I force a smile to my lips. There is no way I’m going to tell him my worst fear is now a reality. Yeah, I just remembered I have to do something. Slipping out of the kitchen, I make a beeline for my room.

Chapter Two

Once I’m in my room , I shut my door and sink to the floor. I can’t seem to get enough air into my lungs. My heart is beating so fast it feels like it’s trying to fly out of my chest, I can’t remember the last time my heart raced this fast. Calm down and just breathe I tell myself. I refuse to let the sight of Cayden make me fall apart. I’m not that girl anymore. Running my fingers along the carpet, I try to calm myself.

It’s going to be okay, at least that’s what I keep telling myself. Him being back changes nothing. I don’t know how long I sit on the floor, but by the time my breathing returns to normal, my butt is numb. Slowly, I climb to my feet and cross the room. Pulling back the curtain, I peek out the window. My room is directly across from Cayden’s, or it used to be. I don’t know if he plans to stay in his old room or the guest room while he’s here. Not that it matters, because I don’t want to see him.

There is nothing to see, his blinds are closed tight. Closing my curtains, I walk over and sit on the edge of my bed. Trying to gather my thoughts, I can’t seem to wrap my mind around the fact, that Cayden is really back. Only I would have such rotten luck. Five years, that’s how long he has been gone. In that time, he hasn’t visited once. So why now?

A knock on my door makes me jump. Hun, I’m heading into the office for a bit. I have some paperwork that I need to look over before my meeting on Monday with my new client.

Normally, dad going into the office on a Saturday would irritate me. But for once, I’m glad he won’t be here to witness my epic meltdown. There is no way I can hide how upset I am, and I don’t feel like explaining to him why the sight of Cayden has me all worked up. He doesn’t have a clue what happened between us, and I would like to keep it that way. Okay, I’ll see you later, I call out. Once I hear his footsteps retreating down the hall, I let out a sigh of relief.

My mind’s a chaotic mess, jumping from one thought to another. How long is he planning to stay? If I was lucky, a few days. But knowing how my luck normally went, I was screwed.

I briefly wonder if he posted anything to his Instagram feed about coming here. Even though I unfollowed him ages ago, he still has his profile set to public. At least it had been the last time I checked. I get as far as typing Cayden Monroe into the search bar before I stop myself. Nope, I can’t do this, I can’t let myself go down this rabbit hole again. If I give in to this one little thing, it will spiral out of control, I can’t help myself. When it comes to Cayden, I have no self-control. That boy has had my heart since the day I laid eyes on him, and deep down, I know that will never change.

Over the next few days, I’m lucky enough not to run into Cayden, although that’s probably because I’ve holed myself up in my room. Two nights ago, I had a lapse in judgment. I snort as I recall my lapse. I got this insane urge to glance out my window. To my utter horror, and well, if I’m being honest with myself, delight. I had gotten an eyeful of a very shirtless Cayden standing in his room. And well, that tiny glance had me wishing I never looked.

Cayden was no longer the young gangly boy I once knew. His once lanky frame had filled out, and now, he’s all hard muscle. I almost went up in flames at the sight of him, and I didn’t have the decency to look away. No, I stood there, staring out my window like a peeping tom. After I came to my senses, I closed my curtains. Cursing myself the entire time. I haven’t dared look out my window again.

Rolling over, I glance at my digital clock on my nightstand. I let out a sigh, it’s 5:00 a.m. I have been laying here awake for over an hour thinking about Cayden. My brain is on overdrive and I can’t go back to sleep. Tossing back the covers, I climb out of bed. If I can’t sleep, I might as well do something productive.

And by productive, I mean, not laying here thinking about the guy I can’t have. I throw on a pair of black jogging shorts and a loose tank top. Grabbing my sneakers, I head out of my room. I glance over at my dad’s room, his door is still closed, so he must still be asleep. Once I’m outside on the front step, I put on my sneakers and do a few warm-up stretches. Even though it’s still early, the muggy heat is already pressing in on me. 

Popping in my ear buds, I start jogging. Starting off slow, I increase my pace as I go. Running is my form of therapy. I try to run a few times a week, but I’ve been slacking recently. Keeping pace, I run about three miles before turning back and heading home.

As I run past Cayden’s, I’m focusing so hard on not looking at his house, that I run into a hard wall of muscle. Stumbling back, a warm hand wraps around my wrist to steady me, I let out an oomph. I look up, directly into a pair of intense brown eyes. Eyes that belong to Cayden.

Well, there goes avoiding him. His dark wavy hair is so long in the front that it’s falling onto his forehead, the sides are cut shorter, and barely graze the top of his ears. Swallowing hard, I slowly let my eyes travel down, he’s sweaty and wearing a black t-shirt that’s stretched tautly across his broad chest. Standing this close to him, I get a good look at the tattoos crawling up his arm, they're stunning, intricately done in black and gray. I’ve never had a thing for guys with tattoos before, but looking at Cayden’s I change my mind. On him, they’re beautiful, and only add to his attractiveness. He clears his throat and I glance back up at his face.

A smirk plays on his lips. See something you like? Humiliation settles heavy in my stomach and I can feel the heat rushing to my cheeks. I’m sure my face is turning a nice shade of red, but I shake it off. Screw that, this boy crushed my heart and deserted me when I needed him the most. I bark out a harsh laugh. Jerks don’t really do it for me.

One side of his lips tilts up in a smile that says he knows I’m lying. And I am. Not about him being a jerk because he really is, but even I can admit he’s gorgeous. He knows it too, the prick. I can only imagine how many girls have thrown themselves at his feet. But he’s sadly mistaken if he thinks I’m going to be one of those girls, not after what he has done to me.

I’m a jerk, huh? I’ve been called worse, he says, with a shrug.

It doesn’t surprise me that he has been called worse. He’s throwing off this whole bad boy vibe, and I wonder how much trouble it’s gotten him into. I take a step back, crossing my arms over my chest. The guy standing in front of me, he’s nothing like the sweet boy who left here. I raise an eyebrow. Well, if the shoe fits. He takes a step closer to me until he is towering over my 5’4 frame. I tilt my head back to look up at him. He has to be at least 6’3. He reaches out a hand and tugs on one of my curls that escaped the sloppy bun, I had thrown my hair up into this morning.

I see you still have the same fire engine red hair. Tell me bug, does your temper still match it? Warmth settles in my stomach as my nickname rolls off his tongue.

Don’t call me that, and If you don’t back up, you’re going to find out, I snap at him.

He arches an eyebrow, oh, she has snark, but does she bite. Oh my god, he is so infuriating. I’m not a violent person, but my palms are tingling to smack the crap out of him. I restrain myself, but barely.

What do you want Cayden? I demand. In an instant, his dark brown eyes go cold and hard. It’s unsettling to watch the change.

I saw you were out for a run, and I thought it would be best, to remind you we aren’t friends anymore. Just because I’m back in town doesn’t mean I want anything to do with you. I want to make sure I’ve made myself clear, just in case you get any ideas in that pretty little head of yours.

My brain gets stuck on the ‘pretty little head,’ but I quickly dismiss it. Coming from him, it’s probably an insult. Believe me, I know we aren’t friends. I don’t even know who you are anymore, and I don’t want to. He made that crystal clear years ago. And even though the words hurt, they’re true. I don’t know him. Maybe I never did.

He chuckles darkly. Really? You could have fooled me with how intently you were staring at me through your bedroom window the other day.

Oops, he’d seen me staring at him like a damn stalker. Before I can come up with a snarky reply, he throws me a wink and walks back to his house.

The nerve of him. How dare he? After the way he hurt me, I should be the one telling him to stay the hell away from me. He was in for a rude awakening if he thought he was going to steamroll over me. I’m not the same weak little girl he left here, five years ago. Not by a long shot. With a huff, I watch him disappear inside his house.

Chapter Three

I’ve spent the last few hours trying to paint. Try being the key word. Giving up, I throw down the paintbrush in aggravation, getting specks of blue paint everywhere. Sighing, I dab a finger at the paint on my face and wipe it off on my smock. I can’t focus, and it’s all Cayden’s fault. My mind loops back to my run in with him this morning. It took years, but I finally moved on, and gotten over the heartbreak he’d caused. Now he’s back. Exhaling, I glance around my art room.

This was mom and I’s special place. I got my love of art from her. Many afternoons were spent in here, laughing and painting. A pang of sadness washes over me, but I shove it aside. Dwelling on the past won’t do me any good.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. Thankful for the distraction, I pull it out. It’s Noah-my other best friend.

Noah: I’m bored and hungry. Do you want to grab something to eat at Antonio’s?

I had nothing else to do, and dads working late again. Big surprise there. I type back.

Me: Sure, let me grab a shower and I’ll meet you there in an hour.

Noah: see ya than.

I have every intention of taking a quick shower, but