by S. M. Soto
“Endymion,” she greets, and if I’m not mistaken, the sound is raspy. Pink slowly invades her cheeks, and I find myself smiling, despite my better judgement.
“Funny running into you here,” I mumble, raking my gaze across her flesh, soaking in every inch of her while I can. She smiles, the corners of her eyes crinkling with the laughter she’s holding in. “You look…you look beautiful.”
“My heart. I think I’ve just had a heart attack from cuteness overload.”
Selene and I turn toward the source, finding her friend Julia staring at the two of us with hearts in her eyes. Her hands are splayed over her chest, across her heart, as if she quite literally can’t take it.
“Julia,” I greet, unable to hide my grin. She’s funny; I’ll give her that.
“Greek god of Dunsmuir. It’s always a pleasure.” She curtsies, and I choke on my laughter. In my peripheral, I catch Selene pinch the bridge of her nose, likely embarrassed by her friend’s antics. “Also,” Julia says, pausing to look at me pointedly, “don’t give up on this one just yet. She’ll give in to you soon enough. Lord knows this has been years in the making.”
“Okay, Julia. Thank you,” Selene rushes out, shooing her off. Her face is the cutest shade of red, and she shifts in those heels.
“Years in the making, huh?”
Her mouth turns down, and she rolls her eyes at me, nudging me on the arm, but I still see the humor lurking there. “Don’t push it, End.”
We both turn toward our friends. Beth-Ann has taken my spot at the bar next to Landon, and Julia is being introduced to Griffin and Bishop.
“We should probably head over there before the guys try to get an easy win in pool.”
Selene scoffs. “Julia is a shark at pool. She’ll definitely hold her own against your friends.”
“And what about you?”
She pauses, then, a smirk steals across her face. It’s damn beautiful. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we, Mr. Black?”
She turns, heading toward her friends, and the entire way I watch her go, riveted to the sight of her. And if I’m not mistaken, there’s an extra sway to her hips. Fuck, if it doesn’t make me rock hard.
Two seats open at the bar, a few feet away from our friends, so we take them. She settles in beside me, and I get a whiff of her perfume. It’s that damned honey and sweet flowers scent - something that is inherently her.
“I take it you’re a baseball fan?” she comments.
I realize I’ve been sneaking glances at her and the TV, unsure what I want to look at more. Who the fuck am I kidding? It’s her.
“I prefer football, but baseball is a close second.”
She cranes her neck over her shoulder, glancing at the screen. “I’ve heard about that guy.”
“Liam Falcon?” I ask, referring to the Giants pitcher.
She nods. “Watched an interview with him and his wife. Kind of incredible, their love, and his passion for the game.”
I know what she’s referring to. A few months back, news leaked of Falcon’s wife being assaulted. It was plastered on every celebrity news channel and website. When questioned about it, he went off on a few reporters and then later did a string of interviews with his wife, Bea, where they confronted the rumors of their past.
The guy didn’t play when it came to his wife. He was extremely protective. That showed through whenever they were spotted together in public. They looked at each other like a couple deeply in love. With a kind of passion you longed for. It’s exactly what’s been lacking in all my relationships. I didn’t date or have girlfriends because no woman ignited something inside me so deep and sharp that I wanted to know more. That I wanted to keep them around for more than just sex. Until Selene.
“How was work?” I ask her, changing the subject. “If I’d known you were going to be here, I would’ve brought more flowers.”
Her eyes light with amusement, and her lips quirk. “You already bought me flowers today.”
I shrug. “Who’s to say I can’t get you flowers twice a day?”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” She shakes her head, fighting back a smile. A chuckle spills past my lips, and I lift my shoulder noncommittally. I’m not even going to bother denying it.
“I am. More time with you is always a good time, beautiful.”
She ducks her head down in a bashful way, tucking a thick lock of hair behind her ear. Her mouth twists ruefully.
“You’re good at that.”
“At what?”
“This.” She aims a pointed look at me. “You’re so…I don’t know, charming, I guess. As though this all comes naturally to you.”
“And you’re telling me it doesn’t come naturally to you? I don’t believe that.”
She scoffs. “Believe it. I think that’s what makes this so hard. I have no idea what I’m doing, Endymion.”
I pause, taking in the heaviness that has suddenly settled around us. Her shoulders are tense, and I realize now, this isn’t easy for her.
“Look,” I breathe out, twisting toward her. “You don’t have to know what you’re doing. I don’t need any other version of you than the one that’s sitting right here. We can figure it out together.”
Her face falls. She obviously doesn’t like that answer. “No, we can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because…because my life is difficult. I have a child, End. I have responsibilities. Nights like this? A free night out with friends is one in a million. Dating you, or…whatever it is you want, it’s not possible with someone like me.”
“I think it is possible. We can just take Luna out with us.” I shrug as if it’s no big deal. “I get that dating you comes with its own set of obstacles, but for me, Luna isn’t one of them.”
Selene looks away. Silence wraps around us, filling the air with tension. Sadness overtakes her features, and I know what she’s going to say before she does. It’s deflating to the ego, and it’s disappointing. Why now? All those years, she harbored a crush on me, and now, suddenly, she wants nothing to do with me.
“What are you so afraid of, Selene? Did the last guy hurt you so much, you’re not even willing to try again?”
Slowly, she looks up at me. Something in her eyes gives me pause. It’s a storm of emotion, blending and swirling that I can’t seem to pin it down to one.
“Yes,” she whispers in response, staring me directly in my eyes. I get an uncomfortable stitch in my chest at the look of torment in her eyes. I want to know her. I want everything.
But most of all, I want to take that look away.
“I’m not him, Selene.”
She scoffs and shakes her head harshly. “I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
I press my lips together at that answer, stumped, unsure of what to say. No one has ever really known me. The town saw what they wanted. But I want that to change with Selene. I want her to know me. The real me.
When Bert remains holed up on the other end of the bar, I tell Selene I’ll be right back, so I can get us some drinks. Hell, there’s gotta be something to cut the sudden tension between us. I decide to cut myself off after this last beer for tonight, and I grab Selene another cranberry and vodka, though, I’m sure it’ll go to waste. She didn’t seem all that enthused while drinking the first. I don’t imagine she drinks very often, and I’m sure when she does, it’s sparse. She doesn’t really strike me as the kind of mom who dies to get out and party.
As I’m headed back toward Selene, I notice the barstool I was just sitting on is no longer empty. It’s now taken by someone dressed in a black shirt with long unruly black hair I’d know anywhere. I grind my back teeth together when I get a look at Selene’s face. She looks uncomfortable. I catch the tail end of his sentence.
“Well, look at you.” He whistles. “Anyone ever tell you that you grew up real nice?”
Selene forces a thin smile. “More than I’d like.”
“You here with anyone, little moon? What do you s
ay we get out of here?”
Setting the drinks on the bar top, I clasp a hand on Thomas’s shoulder, gripping tightly. He stiffens beneath my grip. “She’s with me.”
Slowly, Thomas rises from the stool, turning to face me with a scowl firmly in place. “Well, if it isn’t Endymion, the great.”
“Isn’t your girlfriend at home waiting for you? This is the last place you should be.”
“Holly could give two shits about where I am, but you know that already, don’t you?”
I press my lips together in a grim line, sparing a quick glance at Selene, who’s watching on, a frown marring her face. Thomas has always hated me. The moment I moved into town, and he was no longer the only guy women flocked to, he became angry. After I dated Holly for a few years, he went ahead and did the same, but Holly has never been the kind of girl who wants to be tied down, and I was never that guy who wanted to be tied down either. Our friends-with-benefits arrangement worked for us. Until it didn’t.
It seems Thomas still isn’t over it.
“Tommy, boy, you better not be starting no shit in here tonight,” Bert yells from the other side of the bar, obviously realizing this situation could get ugly.
Thomas shoots me a scathing glare, glances back at Selene one last time, letting his gaze linger on her exposed legs for a beat too long, before he’s gone. I have the sudden urge to clock him for looking at my girl.
My girl? Christ. I internally chide myself.
I take the now empty barstool and pass her drink to her. “You all right?”
She nods. “I’m fine. He hasn’t changed at all over the years.”
I scoff. You got that right.
“Can I ask you something?” I ask, after a beat of awkward silence passes.
She nods, sipping from the dainty straw.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
I see it, the moment her eyes flare with panic, and her body stiffens on the stool. I watch as all the blood drains from her face. “Tell you w-what?”
“About how you felt all those years ago?”
She breathes out a huge sigh, and her body sags in relief. I eye her warily, wondering what that was all about.
“What did you think I was going to ask?”
Avoiding my gaze, she sets the glass on the bar top, looking down at the rings of condensation on the oak.
“There were so many times I wanted to tell you, but…I don’t know. I think I just hoped you’d see me one day, and when you didn’t, I didn’t think professing my lov—professing my crush was the smartest decision.”
“How long?”
A crease forms between her brows. “How long what?”
“How long did you have the crush?”
“Oh, God.” She darts her gaze back down, avoiding me. “I don’t really remember.”
I chuckle, nudging her in the arm. “Just say it.”
Peeking up at me through her lashes, she inhales a deep breath and summons the courage to say whatever it is. “Do you remember the first time we ever met?”
I frown. She’s going to dodge my question with a question?
“The Grab-N-Go on our birthday.”
Her eyes widen. She’s obviously surprised by my memory. “Wow. You remember? I didn’t think you would.”
“So that was it?”
“Pretty much. You were the first guy I’d ever really taken notice of. This town…it was so quiet and boring before you got here. And it felt like I was the first of the town to ever lay eyes on you. In my small, childish mind, it felt like fate. Same birthday, buying the same cake. I guess, in my head, I convinced myself something with you would eventually be a possibility.”
Understanding begins to dawn on me. She’d harbored a crush since the moment we met. How could I expect her to profess her feelings when she always felt like she was just someone in the background?
“I wish you would’ve told me. Said something. I might’ve been able to pull my head out of my ass sooner.”
Her lips quirk in amusement. “Don’t give yourself too much credit, now.”
The grin that steals over my face makes my cheeks twinge with unused muscles. I haven’t smiled this often in years, if not ever.
“I did notice you, you know. That first day in the store. I thought you were beautiful in a wallflower kind of way. You intrigued me. The one thing I remember most is your moon necklace. How much the moon meant to you.”
She smiles. “Yeah, I had the necklace for a while. The chain broke a few years back while I was in Pasadena, and I just never bought a new one. It’s funny, I went so many years feeling like that necklace was a talisman of sorts, and when I didn’t have it, I chalked up all the bad things in my life to that specific cause. And now, without it, sometimes I feel bare, naked. For years, I relied on that necklace for strength.”
“How did you become so…moon—”
“Moon obsessed?” She laughs and shrugs, a seriousness taking over her features. “It may not seem like it, but my parents fought a lot, and it was hard to deal with as a kid. I didn’t want to have to choose a side. I didn’t want to have to love one parent more than I loved the other, because, at times, it felt as though I was expected to pick. When they weren’t on speaking terms, I was always the middleman. I had to make my dad dinner when Mom refused to. And when Mom couldn’t figure something out, she had to come to me, because both of them were too prideful. It was tough. I spent a lot of time locked in my room, trying to ignore the sound of their shouting. It was always about the same thing. Money.”
Something heavy settles over my chest as I listen to her. She seems deep in thought. Lost in her own mind.
“I remember one night while they were arguing, I opened the window and considered leaving. Not for long, because, obviously, I was just a child, but I thought just to get some fresh air and get away from their constant bickering. When I opened the window, I spotted the moon, and I don’t know what it was about that night, but I stopped and really looked at it. So many times, we look up into the night sky and just skim over the moon. What’s so special about something that’s there every night, right? But that night, it was different. I felt like, for once, I had someone I could talk to. Someone I could confide in. Someone who would be there to listen each night.
“After that night, I started doing my own research on the moon, the phases, and what they meant in terms of spirituality. I was always interested in mythology, and it seemed the two intertwined. Then I became fascinated with the mythology behind the moon and the moon goddess. I felt like a kindred spirit with her since her name was Selene, too. I wanted to feel like there was a reason I felt so attached to the moon. Maybe there was; maybe there wasn’t. But that’s what I loved about the moon. The ability it has to change lives. Change the earth. It’s stronger and much more resilient than people give it credit for.
“After all that, I started becoming obsessed with using the moon to manifest my intentions. Which I know, it sounds crazy, but you’d be surprised what believing in something can do for you. I learned about crystals and chakras, all the ways the earth gives us the tools to heal ourselves, without medication but our own divination. I even opened my own shop in Pasadena. It was a healing store.”
My brows shoot up. So that was the business she lost out there? I wasn’t expecting that.
“Wow. I had no idea your love for the moon began all those years ago. What happened with the business, if you don’t mind me asking?”
She sighs, clearly still deflated by this. “Moonchild did well for a while, but where we lived in Pasadena, we needed more customers than my few regulars and some tourists. People would come in and look, but it was hard making a profit when there are bigger chains people flock to. Healing and ‘magick’ stores are often overlooked. People tend to think they’re only there for hippies or witches, but that’s not true. I don’t practice witchcraft, but just like them, I do believe in manifesting your own intentions by using your own power. We were open for a little over a year a
nd a half before I had to close. One day, I’d like to try again, but right now, making a decent living and taking care of my dad and Luna will have to do.”
“You never thought about opening one here?”
She shrugs, glancing around at the lively bar-goers. “I never had any intention of coming back here.”
“Why not?”
“Besides my dad being here, I didn’t feel like Dunsmuir held anything for me anymore.”
“He’s missed you guys. He probably won’t say it, but the times I’ve been with him, all he ever talked about was you and Luna. Felt like I knew her before I ever even met her.”
She smiles, but her eyes swim with emotion. “I feel bad for being gone all those years. But when I got pregnant…” She pauses, quickly darting her gaze to mine. “My dad and I didn’t have the best relationship. It was tough for him to come to terms with. There was a rift, and when push came to shove, my mom was there when he wasn’t. I guess over the years when our relationship dwindled it was easy to put him in this box as the man who didn’t step up to the plate. It was tough and unfair of me. It wasn’t until maybe Luna’s second birthday that we started doing things as a family again. It’s still tough, but Luna…she loves him.”
“He loves her, too. And I’m not blaming you for the decisions you made. Families are tough. Mine isn’t perfect either.”
“Is this where you expect me to believe your family was worse off than mine?” she asks, raising a single brow.
I chuckle. “No. Definitely not. I guess a part of me just understands you a bit better now. I understand why he was here, and you guys were there. I always wondered, but I never wanted to ask him. Felt like I would be pouring salt into his invisible wound.”
“What made you start hanging out with my dad, anyway? When did that happen exactly?”
“Maybe about a year after your mom left? It sort of happened. Small projects here, offering each other beers or takeout there, and then we eventually made it a weekly thing. He’d always been good friends with my dad back when he’d bring your guys’ cars to the garage for maintenance, so we decided to invite him over and treat him like family.”
