Flock

by Stewart , Kate

  “It’s not that, just…” He cups the back of his neck. “Jesus, I’m fucking this up good. It’s just the guys, they’ll, well, they’re—”

  “I’ve been to plenty of parties, Sean. I’m no Little Red Riding Hood.”

  This earns me a grin before he stomps out his cigarette with a greased-stained tan boot. “Good, because we don’t want to let the wolf get a whiff.”

  “Where exactly are you taking me?”

  He flashes a blinding smile that feels like a bat to the chest.

  “I told you, my spot.”

  I should be wary, especially because of his hesitation, but I’m intrigued more than anything. “I’ll follow you.”

  We pull up to a two-story house, the only one in a tiny cul-de-sac. The rest of the houses on the street spaced just far enough apart to allow a fair amount of privacy. It’s a far cry from the inch between houses neighborhood I grew up in. I get out of my Camry and meet Sean at his car, an old classic that I struggled to keep up with on the ride over. It’s fire engine red, looks newly polished and seems to suit him perfectly. The rest of the parking spots in the circle and lining the street are cars of the same nature, mostly classics, shiny metal with powerful engines—either that or huge trucks that require some effort to climb in.

  “This is beautiful,” I tell him as he gets out and closes the door, eyes hidden due to a pair of vintage Vegas Elvis style shades. Sunglasses that would look ridiculous on anyone else but work effortlessly on him. Darting my eyes away, I run my fingers along the glossed exterior of the car.

  “What is it?”

  “’69 Nova, SS.”

  “I love it.”

  A flash of teeth. “Me too, come on.”

  I glance up the driveway, and it’s easy to see the tan-sided house is suited for bachelors. It’s nothing special, the lawn manicured enough to make it clean, but lacking a personal touch. There’s a group of people gathered on the porch, a few of their heads already turned our way.

  A twinge of social anxiety keeps me idle as Sean walks a few steps ahead of me to follow. When he senses I’m not at his side, he turns back, and I latch my wrist to the arm draped loosely at my side. “Who all lives here?”

  “Me and two others, they’re like my brothers, and both will bite.”

  “That’s reassuring.”

  He pushes his shades up to his crown and eyes me skeptically. “Maybe we should go somewhere else.”

  “Should we?”

  Sean takes the few strides towards me, his voice level when he speaks.

  “Look, I’ll admit back at the plant I thought you were a bit more bulldog than pup.”

  I give him a dead stare.

  He points to my expression, a new grin in place. “See, now that, that mean mug right there, is what will keep you alive in this house. Think you can keep that up while you’re here?”

  “I don’t understand. Aren’t these your friends?”

  He lifts a steady hand between us before pushing some hair away from my shoulder. I don’t shy away from his touch. “If you had flinched, I’d take you somewhere else, you’ve got this. Just don’t take any shit like you didn’t from me back at work and you’ll be fine.”

  He takes my hand and we walk through the crowd on the porch, stopping short of the front door. “Who’s this?” The voice comes from the porch swing, out of the mouth of a guy draped around a girl who looks at me with the same interest. I can practically see the ‘we don’t do well with strangers around here’ in both their expressions.

  “She just started at the plant. Cecelia, this is James, and that’s his girl Heather,” he jerks his chin to the others crowded by the porch fence who scrutinize me while sipping their beers, “Russell, Peter, Jeremy, Tyler.” They all give me the lift of their chins while a strange sensation rolls up my spine, and it’s not a bad one. If anything, it feels a little like déjà vu. Tyler holds my gaze the longest after our introduction, and I can’t help but notice the wing tip beneath the cuff of his T-shirt when he lifts his beer. Our eyes stay locked until I’m led into the house.

  Despite my hesitation in coming, I feel more comfortable here than I have after one night at my father’s, and I use that to fuel each step. Once inside, I scan the spotless house. The walls look freshly painted, and the furniture new. The living room is empty of people, save the loveseat where a couple talks animatedly, the guy giving me a once-over before giving Sean a nod while he guides me through a sliding glass door. It’s when I step through onto the patio that my hackles rise, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. I feel like I’m on display, which isn’t far from the truth because the back yard is bustling with people, smoke billowing from a nearby barbecue, and out of the mouths of a few next to the fence bordering the yard. To our left is a long patio table full of people taking shots and playing cards. The gathering seems to be just a few heads shy of a full-on party. Sean leads me to the middle of the yard where rows of coolers sit fully stocked with beer next to a picnic bench.

  “Nice place.”

  “Thanks, we’re working on it. Beer?”

  “I…” I pause, intent on trying to fit in despite standing out like an inexperienced sore thumb. The last time I drank, it didn’t end well. “Yeah, I’ll have one.”

  He twists the lid on a hard cider. “I think this is chick beer.” I take a sip and then another, liking the taste. Sean’s lips lift in a sultry smile. “Like that?”

  “It’s pretty good.”

  “I guess I should’ve asked how old you are.”

  “Old enough to vote, but not to legally drink.”

  He hangs his head.

  “Not that young. I’ll be nineteen in a few weeks.”

  “Shit,” he eyes me. “I thought I was going to be trouble for you.”

  I double tap my brows. “I’m tricky like that.”

  “You are trouble,” he says, his eyes searching mine. “I can tell.”

  “I’m harmless.”

  “No, you’re more,” he shakes his head slowly. “A lot more.” He takes a beer from the cooler and pops off the top, his eyes never leaving me. “Hungry?”

  “Starving,” I say honestly, my stomach rumbling from the smell permeating the yard.

  “Should be ready soon.” One of the guys playing cards on the porch waves him over, his curious eyes trained on me. “You okay here for a second?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Be right back.” He stalks off, and I zero in on his ass. A feminine laugh sounds behind me and I turn as she approaches. She’s beautiful, with long blonde hair, baby blue eyes, and in my opinion, the perfect physique. Petite with soft curves. My last growth spurt puts me hovering above her at 5’9. I got my blue eyes and reddish-brown hair from my father, and work with the slightly disproportionate build I inherited from my mom. What I lack in my border B cup breasts I make up with a double D butt.

  She grins. “Can’t blame you, you could bounce a quarter off that ass.”

  “Was I that obvious?”

  “A little,” she plucks a cider from the cooler, twists off the top and takes a sip. “But we all stare at that ass. I’m Layla.”

  “Cecelia.”

  “So, how do you know Sean?”

  “I don’t. I met him at orientation today.”

  She wrinkles her nose. “You work at the plant?”

  “First shift starts tomorrow. Just moved here yesterday.”

  “I only worked there for a few years after high school, and I couldn’t stand it. Most everyone here works there or has at some point. The owner is an asshole, though. He lives in a castle somewhere around here.” She turns to me. “I get the townies having that job, but why would you take a job there?”

  “I’m the daughter of the asshole.”

  She tilts her head, her clear blue eyes widening slightly before darting past me in the direction Sean left. “No shit?”

  “Yeah, and trust me, I’m dreading it.”

  “I already like you,”
she takes another sip of her cider and glances around the yard. “Same shit, different day.”

  “They do this often?”

  “Oh, yeah—” she flutters her fingers as if the subject isn’t worth entertaining. “So where did you move from?”

  “Peachtree City, just outside of Atlanta.”

  “Why would you want to move here?”

  I shrug. “Single parents, and they passed the baton this year.”

  “Sucks.”

  “It does.”

  She looks past me, lifting her chin to the same guy who summoned Sean from the porch, this time, his eyes only for her. He’s got nothing on Sean looks-wise, but there’s something about him that commands attention, especially hers. She gives him a knowing grin and turns to me. “Can’t leave your man alone too long, even with his friends. Well, a man that can’t do without you. And my man doesn’t like my attention divided.” She rolls her eyes as his jaw ticks with impatience. “Do you have a boyfriend back home?”

  “No.”

  Her eyes are still on his as they pass a look that displays ownership of the other on both parts before she turns to me.

  “Well, hopefully you find something in Triple that keeps you entertained.”

  “Maybe.” I lift my bottle to sip my cider and find it empty. She plucks us each a new one from the cooler, passing one to me. “I better get over there. Join us if you want.”

  “Thanks, I’m going to wait here for Sean. Good meeting you.”

  “I’ll see you around, Cecelia.”

  She saunters off, retreating onto the lap of her man and wraps herself around him as he plays his hand. He subtly, but possessively caresses her thigh with his thumb as she whispers in his ear. I dart my eyes away, a little envious. It’s been a while since I had a steady boyfriend, and I sometimes miss the ritual.

  The more I look around, the more I recognize these people are family. I seem to be the only outsider here, which I assume is the reason for the seconds long glances that are coming at me from all sides. Not the type to mingle, I find myself missing Sean, who’s been gone for what seems like forever as I stand in the middle of the yard, a fish out of water. Music filters down from an open window on the second floor of the house as I walk over to the fence, overlooking a partial mountain view. I might have moved from the suburbs of Atlanta to the mountains in Bumfuck, Nowhere, but even I can appreciate the spectacular scenery.

  Do you party?

  No. Though I attended a few in high school, I always opted to leave early. I’m fully aware of the protocol and behavior necessary to blend in at these types of gatherings, but I’ve never really become comfortable in the way Christy is, who’s never met a stranger. Christy is always the buffer for me, and I find myself wishing she was here. I’ve never been the one to dance on a table after taking too many shots or give in to a random hookup. My record is squeaky in that sense. I’ve always been more of an introvert, an onlooker, bearing witness to the goings-on while too afraid of making any mistakes and losing face.

  In hindsight, I wished I’d made a few worthy missteps and been a little bit braver. But weeks ago, I crossed that stage for my diploma unmemorable, the ‘what’s her name?’ girl in the background of a few yearbook pictures. It dawns on me now, here amongst strangers, I can be anyone. Aside from Sean’s easy read on me during our first encounter, no one knows me. Christy’s right in a lot of ways about my role in my relationship with my mom. She’s been begging me for years to loosen up. Maybe it’s not too late to make those notable blunders, make myself more of an ‘in the moment’ gal, and less of a wallflower.

  More of a wishful thinker than executioner, I perch against the fence and am halfway through my second cider, lost in the view of the evergreen drenched mountains when I sense I’m not alone.

  “Sean desert you already?” A voice rumbles from next to me. I turn to see Tyler standing just feet away, his arms crossed over the edge of the fence, his expression and brown eyes warm.

  “Yeah,” I wave my bottle. “No complaints, I’m a fan of whomever’s playing DJ, and I’ve got a drink and a view. Tyler, right?”

  His answering grin reveals a dimple. “Right.”

  “Do you work at the plant, too?”

  “Nope, I work at a garage for now, just got back from Greensboro, had a job out there the last four years of my reserves.”

  “Really?”

  He runs his hands through his half-inch hair. “Really.”

  “What branch?”

  “Marines.”

  “Did you like it?”

  He smirks. “Not enough to make a career of it. Four years in, another four years on standby, but I guess I consider it time well spent.”

  “Welcome back, Marine. Thank you for your service.”

  “Most welcome.”

  We clink bottles.

  “Do you own one of those cars outside?”

  “Yeah, the ’66 C20 is mine.”

  I draw my brows, and he grins.

  “The neon green pickup with the black top.” Pride oozes from his lips as I take him in. He’s a bit smaller in stature than Sean, but just as shredded physically. He’s got the sweetheart eyes, a rich brown surrounded by black, naturally curled lashes. Clearly, there’s no shortage of hot men in the mountains. Christy will be thrilled. Though entertaining, and highly appealing, I’m just not sure any of them are my type. But with each sip of cider, I feel like I’m forming an opinion. And so far, I haven’t met a bicep I haven’t liked. That thought—combined with the cider—makes me giggle.

  “What were you thinking, just then?” Tyler’s lips tug up at the corners, amping his smile to the next level.

  “Just… Yesterday I lived somewhere else, and now I’m in a stranger’s yard.”

  “Crazy where a day can take you, huh?”

  “Exactly.”

  “That’s nothing unusual around here, trust me,” he says, inching closer. His predacious gaze sends a shiver along my neck.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Stick around long enough, you’ll see for yourself.”

  “Well, I don’t hate it so far,” I drawl, knowing the cider is starting to speak on my behalf.

  “Good to know,” he crowds me a little against the fence. It’s not threatening, but enough to feel some of the summer sun radiating off his skin.

  “Back off, jar-dick, she just got here,” Sean says, nudging his way between us and looking at me with a lifted brow. “Where’s that mean mug?”

  I lift my cider to indicate where it all went wrong, feeling warm all over as he takes it from me. “Let’s get you fed.”

  Tyler grins at me over Sean’s obstructive shoulder. “See you around, Cecelia.”

  “Hope so,” I tilt my head past Sean, so he can see my answering smile.

  “Knew you were trouble,” Sean drawls out, shaking his head before leading me by the hand over to a fully stocked picnic bench table full of mixed barbecue and endless sides. Sean and I eat together and it’s hard not to avoid the looks we get huddled in our little bubble, isolated from the rest of the party.

  “Ignore them,” he says through a mouthful. “And,” he points to me, playfully ordering, “mean mug.”

  “Is there a reason we aren’t eating with everyone else?”

  Lazy hazel sweeps me. “How about I want to keep you to myself for now?”

  “That so?” I take a bite to hide my smile, unsure of the signals I want to send. Only inches apart when we started eating, our knees touch now as we lean toward each other. As we feast, we slide into easy conversation and he reveals he moved to Triple Falls when he was five, and met the friends he’s since taken up residence with. Sean, Tyler, and their other roommate moved into the house a week ago, which I assume is some of the reason for this gathering, along with Tyler’s homecoming. Sean’s worked between the plant and a garage since he graduated high school. And his family owns a restaurant on Main Street, which is a Triple Falls community staple. Though Sean speaks like he’s
an open book, his eyes hold so much mystery as if his words oppose his thoughts.

  A full plate of barbecue later, my limbs grow heavy from every look we exchange. Unable to fully play immune, I steal glances at him when he becomes distracted by the late arrivals pouring into the back yard. The party is getting more aggressive as the sun threatens to set, and conversations grow louder. Another half-drained cider in hand, I stand in the middle of the yard by his side, the backs of our hands brushing as Sean chats with Tyler and Jeremy.

  Rattling with anticipation, I’m only half-listening to their conversation, too swept up in the ‘what if’ these stolen touches could lead to, and the circulating warmth from the booze. It’s when Sean purposely slides a finger along the side of my hand that I feel that prickle again. It’s a distinct and unshakable feeling that I’m being watched.

  Newly paranoid, where I was just at ease, I look in every direction for the source, searching through the crowds until my blue eyes collide with slicing silver-grey…but it’s not just the eyes that bind me where I stand—it’s the predatory look inside them.

  Sean’s words drift through my cloudy head. “We don’t want to let the wolf get a whiff.”

  I have a feeling it’s said wolf who’s caught my scent and is eyeing me from feet away.

  The party bustles around him as we stare off and he comes into full view. It’s the third time I’ve been hit today with attraction, and I stand awestruck by just how much I’m feeling it.

  I still can’t make it past his intense stare as he considers me like he’s contemplating his next move.

  And in the next second, he’s coming right for me.

  Holy Shit.

  I lift my chin, as he treads through the yard, a dark haze shrouded in masculine beauty. Just past a prominent widow’s peak, lays long waves of rich-looking, thick onyx hair, equally dark brows above silver eyes filled with auspicious intent. Between high-cut cheekbones is a sleek nose and…his mouth.

  Looking fresh off the runway, he’s dressed in black from his T-shirt to his lace-free army boots, the tongue in them falling limp, much like mine, the closer he gets.

  My body spikes with adrenaline, and I fight myself not to look away but lift my chin higher to spite the unspoken threat dancing in his eyes. But no mean mug I could ever muster could save me from the dominance in this man’s swagger and the chill that emanates from his stare.