Present Day.

Olivia's POV.

Waking up to the reminder of the best night of my life is the best part.

Somewhere in the middle of the night when we both stirred awake, Jace buried his head in-between my legs and ate me out till I came in his mouth, then he flipped me over and fucked me from behind until my body was left weak and helpless by the time he was done.

I can still feel him between my legs, my body feels tired and relieved at the same time.

But....

Something about all this gives me major deja Vu, I feel like I've experienced all this before even though I know for sure that I haven't. Maybe Olivia one experienced something like this with that guy Tristan or that other guy Ryder.

Lucky bitch.

I wonder if the same Ryder guy can make me feel as good as Jace does.

Wouldn't bet on it.

Jace is not in bed, he told me he has trouble sleeping, he usually just stares at the ceiling and gets up earlier than the entire apartment complex.

I wouldn't want that to happen to me, I love my beauty sleep.

I get up, stretching my naked body, picking up a random white t-shirts from the floor and slipping it on.

This guy is a mess from the inside out.

I head out of the room, searching around the apartment for him, I find him in his own homemade darkroom.

It's also a mess, there are boxes everywhere, pictures hanging above his head like clothes on a line, there's a table in the mirror of the room and it's filled with papers and photographs, there's a metal rack on my left, it's stashed with files but what catches my attention is the pink shoe box on top.

I wonder what's in there.

He ceases his movements, looking at me and smiling a wide toothy smile.

I return the smile, intertwining my fingers behind me and feeling a beautiful knot in my stomach.

"Good morning." He keeps the smile while his eyes drink in my appearance.

"Morning." My tone is barely audible because of the sudden nervousness that builds up in my body.

I walk over to the table, picking up a photograph of a group of students in a study group.

"Wow, Jace, these are really good." I pick up another photo of a guy carry a stash of books.

"Thanks, I'm working on this little project, I haven't figured out a name yet but it's a collection of young people being young and getting through life." He explains.

"Like a movie but in form of photographs?" I ask.

"Exactly." He nods.

"I'd love to see it." I smile at all the photographs.

"I think I've captured every aspect, except for one, the most important one." He sighs, his inked hand stroking his smooth jaw.

I look away, clearing my throat, "Which one?"

"Life of the party." He scratches his buzzed head.

"Dude, why didn't you start with that?" I giggle.

"Because I hate parties." He says in a serious tone.

"You hate parties?" This information comes as a shock to me.

"Is that so hard to believe?" He narrows his eyes at me.

"You look like the life of the party, like a party would make so much more sense if you showed up." I shrug a shoulder.

"It used to be like that but not anymore." He keeps his gaze on the table, keeping his hands busy.

Myra said that there was a time when Jace used to be happy, sometime in high school, I don't know what happened and I'm too afraid to ask but I do know that there's a girl who can never forgive him, I think that girl is Cassandra Richardson but I don't know for sure.

"What changed?" I go for it, confidently.

"I just feel out of place every time I'm at a party, like I don't belong." He's lying and he knows it, "I guess what I'm trying to say is, there are certain events in your life that change the way you see things, I guess I just changed." His face hardens, whatever memory flashed through his brain made him bitter.

I want to go around this table and hold him till he no longer feels pain and guilt or any of the other hurtful things that feed on his insides.

But I don't know how he'll react to that so I don't.

"Want me to go with you?" I suggest, he gives me a questioning look. "So you don't feel out of place?" I add, he does that thing he does, the staring at me like he's debating with himself.

I hate that, by the way.

"Yeah, I'd like that very much." He nods, forcing a small smile.

"The girls are probably looking for me." I blow out a breath.

"Yeah, why'd you go out in the rain anyway?" He asks like he doesn't know.

Because of you, bitch.

"It wasn't raining when I left." I say instead, "I actually bumped into someone who recognized me from before the accident." I tell him, he pauses, snapping his eyes to my face.

"Who?" He questions.

"His name is Tristan and he claimed that we dated in highschool." I roll my eyes at the memory.

"Oh." He swallows, "What else did he say?" He goes back to arranging his photographs.

"He said that I left him for some other dude called Ryder, said he hated me for doing that then he went on being all mysterious but then he said something that really caught my attention."

"What was it?"

"The night of my accident, he said that something happened to me and that this Ryder guy was somehow involved." I whisper for some reason.

"Something like what?" He doesn't look at me and I don't know if it's just me but he kinda looks uneasy.

"I don't know but he said that this Ryder guy would have never disappeared on me no matter what so whatever happened that night must have forced him to run off." I explain.

He doesn't say anything for a while, I almost think he wasn't listening but he speaks again after a few minutes.

"What do you think he did?" He asks, finally giving me a glance.

"I've avoided thinking about it, thinking about it makes everything real and I just wanna keep living in this fantasy." I point out, shrugging.

"Okay." He mutters.

"What do you think happened?" I ask him because I genuinely need everyone's theory on this.

"I don't know." He quickly shakes his head.

I don't push the conversation, I let it end there because I know better than that.

I start strolling around the room, looking at everything cause I'm that nosy, I immediately regret doing so when I catch another photograph of Cassandra Richardson in an open box.

It looks like he was going to put it away or throw it out.

I retrieve the photograph from the box, he framed this one which tells me that he had it displayed somewhere at some point.

She's smiling at the camera, wearing a yellow dress, her hair in beautiful golden locks and judged by that white curtain, she was standing by a window.

This was taken in a bedroom.

Was it her bedroom or his bedroom?

Were they going to fuck after this photo or did they fuck before it?

And most importantly....

Did he like her more that he likes me?

He comes up behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder.

I wait for him to say something about the photograph I'm holding but just like me, he stares at it.

Okay then, I'll start.

"Let me guess, you photographed this one too?" I hold it up, turning to face him.

He doesn't give me a response, he turns around and walks back to the table.

"She's really pretty." I speak again, staring at the photo.

She's not just "pretty" she's the type of girl that makes you feel insecure, not good enough, not pretty enough, she's the type of girl that has it easy because of her looks.

She is what makes this situation with Jace feel so bittersweet.

"So you're really not gonna tell me if you dated her." I ask.

"Don't." He warns.

"What's the big deal, Jace, all you have to say is yes or no, it's not that fucking complicated." I try to keep my voice calm.

"It is, it is that fucking complicated." He grits out.

"How complicat-?"

"Just drop it, Olivia, for fucks sake!" He snaps at me.

"Fuck you." I toss the photo on the table and I start storming out of the room.

"Yes." He says as soon as my hand touches the doorknob.

"Yes what?" I ask while I keep my face glued to the door.

"Yes, I dated her." He answers me, "In high school."

I turn around, "What happened? How'd you break up?"

He looks elsewhere, that pained expression crowding his features again.

"I failed her, I ruined our relationship," his voice is pure torture, "Now she doesn't want anything to do with me." He doesn't exactly answer my question but that answer was brutal enough to stab something in my chest.

Instead of asking exactly what it is that he did, my feet drags me back to him and engulf him in a hug, holding him and hoping to erase the pain.

But, the pain never goes away, it's a battle that he has to fight on his own.