The Eastwood Series

by M. E. Clayton

  I finished tying my apron around what used to be my waist. “Depends on if rent is due or not,” I retorted.

  She snorted. “Amen,” she agreed. “Luckily, I’m in a dorm, but I still like to eat.”

  Dorm life wasn’t how it was portrayed in all those comedies. It really was hit or miss. If you were rich and had no worries of failing because you know you’ll never end up homeless, parties were the way to go. If you weren’t rich and here by working your fingers to the bone, it sucked to get stuck with dormmates who didn’t take studying seriously.

  I had lucked out with being paired up with girls who were a combination of both. While Millie and our other dormmate, Allison, were both California born, bred, and wealthy, they were decent people. They respected that I was at USC on scholarship, and they never brought parties to our place. When I had first met them, I had been surprised that they weren’t going to pledge a sorority, but it had made sense when Millie had voiced that she was not about to bend to someone else’s rules and be told what to do. Allison had quickly agreed.

  Millie Crane was five-three, with perfect California blonde hair and blue eyes. She had a figure that was close to perfect and swore none of it was paid for. I wasn’t sure if I believed her or not because boobs that big should bounce naturally, but I wasn’t about to feel her up to prove my theory. Millie was also smart, and on her way to being a fashionista and entertainment mogul. I had no reason to think she wasn’t going to achieve her goals of success. She was pretty sharp.

  Allison Seabright was your classic stunning redhead with green eyes. She was five-nine and built like a runway model. She was truly a head turner, and she was another smart cookie. She was going into chemical research and had plans to change the world.

  I truly lucked out with my dormmates.

  “Too bad there wasn’t a preparing-you-for-the-realities-of-college class offered in public school to get us ready for this crap,” I muttered. “Learning on the fly is hard.”

  “Tell me about it,” Stacy agreed. “If I knew then what I know now, I would have mowed lawns as soon as I’d been old enough to push a lawn mower to prepare for the financial weight of a higher education.”

  “I hear you. Had I known my parents were going to get a divorce and ruin my life, I would have started collecting cans at the age of ten and saved every penny they got me.”

  Stacy finished wrapping her apron around her petite body and looked over at me. “And that’s why we’re going to go out there and put on our best smiles no matter how much some of these customers suck.”

  I laughed.

  Customer service really was a thankless job.

  We walked out of the employee’s lounge and walked out to start our morning shifts. As Darren, our shift manager, unlocked the front to open for the public, Stacy said, “I’ll take the east section.”

  I nodded. “I’ll take the west.” Since it was predicted to be slow as hell, we knew Darren would tend the counter if we got any customers sitting in that section.

  As predicted, things were slow. We’d only had two customers in the three hours that we’ve been open, but there had been quite a few to-go orders that had been placed, so that had helped. But it was only nine now and I doubted that a lunch-rush was on the horizon. One thing, however, the tables and chairs were clean as hell. Not a speck of dust in the entire place as me and Stacy wiped everything down enough to qualify it as an upper-body workout.

  When the little bell above the front door chimed, my chest boomed with sad and pathetic excitement at having something to do. But with my luck, they’ll probably go sit in Stacy’s section. I looked over towards our visitors, and it was a miracle my legs hadn’t given out under me.

  Alistair.

  He glanced around the place with a smile on his face, and even though I’ve smiled plenty in my lifetime since him, it hurt to see him happy. It was ridiculous, but true.

  He also looked magnificent.

  The Alistair I left was not the same Alistair standing in the diner right now. This Alistair was tall and filled out. He still had the shock of white hair and bright blue eyes, but he was grown. And his clothes did nothing to hide how filled out he was. He was over six-foot and not lanky in the least.

  Stacy approached him, and I let her. There was no way I’d be able to wait on him, and USC was big enough that I could avoid him for the next three years if I needed to. Hell, freshman year was almost over, and I had barely noticed him yesterday, so there wasn’t any reason that we’d need to cross paths again.

  I hurriedly went back to wiping one of my tables and prayed he hadn’t seen me. Hopefully, he was here for a to-go order. I was female enough to feel the insecurities of the me-now seeing the Alistair-now. I was chubby with dark circles that never left my face, while he looked breathtaking. While our separation had damaged me, it seemed as if Alistair had flourished. Deep down, I was happy for him, but it would be humiliating to catch up.

  Heartbreaking, too.

  Chapter 2

  Alistair~

  Could it be?

  When I had walked into The Diner, I had come in for the to-go order I had placed. I’ve heard about this place all year, but I’d never come in. I wasn’t big on eating out because it was expensive. Plus, I spent a lot of time eating at Raiden and Charlie’s. Raiden was getting his ass handed to him with football, so Charlie was constantly begging me to meet up with her for dinner or lunch or whatever. I didn’t mind, though. I loved having her and Raiden so close. And even though we’ve all made new friends, having Samson, Mackenzie, Ford, Amelia, and Duke so far away sucked. We’d grown so close last year, we could still feel the distance. Or, at least, I could.

  But with spring break officially underway, Charlie and Raiden had already taken off for Eastwood. All school breaks have been spent going back home. With Duke, Tally, and Rachel still in Eastwood, it was better for all of us to just go back home to meet up. Meeting Willow in the capacity of Duke’s girlfriend had been a real treat, too. We all knew who she was, of course, but bringing her into our fold over Thanksgiving break had been just what we needed to complete our family. Willow was perfect for Duke, and we all knew it.

  And while I still the odd man out, it never felt that way. I didn’t begrudge everyone else’s love story because I knew the kind of love they were feeling. I might have only been fourteen when I had felt it, but that hadn’t made it any less real or deep.

  Rory Simmons had been the love of my life, and she still was. She was the girl I never got over and, quite frankly, wasn’t sure I ever would. I fell in love with her at fourteen and her fucked-up father’s mistakes had led her to be ripped away from me at fifteen.

  We had started dating our freshman year and it had been instant love on my part. She hadn’t been on board with my happily-ever-after right away the way I had been, but eventually she had come around. When she had, it had been the best moment of my life. It had actually been better than the night we’d given our virginities to each other. Having Rory Simmons tell me she loved me had changed me in a way that has stayed with me all these years later. It had been real, and it had been beautiful.

  But then, her father had gone and fallen in love with someone else and had broken up Rory’s home. With little choice, her mother had moved them to Wisconsin to stay with her aunt. And while I hold the memory of our night together dear, it had been born out of desperation, sorrow, and pain. A night that should have been full of love, sacrifice, and desire had become a night of regret and heartbreak.

  And now, I was standing in The Diner to pick up my to-go order, and my mind was telling me it was Rory Simmons who was wiping down that table in the corner.

  “Good Morning, how may I help you?” a cheerful, pretty blonde asked as she blocked my view of the waitress in the corner.

  My eyes found hers. “Uh, I have an order to-go,” I muttered. “Uhm, Alistair Brown.”

  She smiled and gestured towards the counter. “Have a seat, and I’ll go check on your order.” She turned an
d headed towards the kitchen, and my eyes immediately sought out the other waitress. I stood there staring like a creeper when she finally turned around and faced my direction.

  Startling grey eyes that I would know anywhere locked on mine, and all the air was sucked out of my lungs

  Rory Simmons.

  We both stood frozen in a moment I never thought I would ever get to live. Rory was standing mere feet away from me, and she looked just as beautiful as the last time I saw her.

  Her black hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, but I could see wisps of loose strands surrounding her face. Her brows were still arched in a mismatched way, and those grey eyes of her were still deadly stunning. They were framed by thick black lashes that never needed makeup. Her face was flushed pink, but it was still the sweet face I remembered. And as I took her in, there was no mistaking that Rory Simmons was no longer a lanky teenage girl.

  No.

  The girl had curves underneath that apron she wore, and they worked for her. Rory’s always been short, and it appeared she hadn’t grown much since the last time I saw her. That put me about ten inches taller than her, and it took me back to the days when she used to joke about getting a kink in her neck from having to look up at me all the time.

  Rory Simmons.

  My feet started the journey across the floor until I was standing right in front of her. I wanted to reach out and touch her to make sure she was real, but I didn’t.

  I wasn’t sure if I still had that right.

  “Rory.” Her name came out softer than I had meant it to. Almost like I was afraid she wasn’t real, and she’d disappear if I forced this.

  “Hi, Alistair,” she muttered, and my heart cracked right down the center as her voice sounded like she wasn’t happy to see me.

  My chest felt like it was splintering all over again, and I didn’t know how to keep that fact from resonating in my voice. “Uh…”

  “Alistair Brown!” I turned, and the waitress that had greeted me was walking out from behind the kitchen with a bag in her hand.

  I looked back down at Rory. “That’s…uh, my order.”

  Her lips rolled in tightly, and she gave me a terse nod. “Yeah…” Her eyes started darting around, looking everywhere but at me.

  The other waitress walked up to us and handed me the bag. “Here you go.” I took the bag. “Since you already paid over the phone, is there anything else we can get you?”

  Yeah. Rory fucking Simmons. You can get me Rory fucking Simmons.

  I didn’t say that, though. Instead, I just said, “No, thank you. This is all.”

  The waitress smiled. “Okay. Have a great morning.” She walked off, oblivious to the tension swirling around me and her co-worker.

  My grip on the bag tightened as I looked back at Rory. I had no fucking idea what to say to her. There was too many and not enough things to tell her. I really just wanted to take her in my arms and run away with her, but even though a quick glance at her left hand told me she wasn’t married, that didn’t mean she didn’t have a boyfriend.

  My gut tensed at the thought.

  “How have you been?” I asked lamely.

  “G…good,” she replied, still with the muttering. She glanced over at the only other customers in the place, and it didn’t take a genius to realize she didn’t want to be talking to me.

  And. That. Fucking. Hurt.

  “Rory?”

  She threw me a tight grin. “I…I need to go check on my…uh, table.”

  My breathing was quickly turning into a panic attack. “Rory, I-”

  Her eyes still wouldn’t meet mine. “It…it was good to see you, Alistair,” she lied, and I stood there as she turned her back on me and went to go check on her customers.

  Nervousness turned into heartbreak, but then, quickly turned into anger.

  I stood there as she did her best to ignore my presence, and my temper was rising from a simmer to a boil.

  I haven’t seen her in four year.

  Four fucking years.

  I haven’t seen her in four years, and the last time I saw her, she had taken my shattered heart with her to goddamn Wisconsin, and this was how she wanted to treat me after seeing me for the first time in all these years?

  Fuck. That. Shit.

  But while I was pissed, I wasn’t angry enough to embarrass her at her work or risk her job by causing a scene. I knew nothing about her, and this job might be the one that feeds and houses her. Just because she worked at a diner near USC, that didn’t mean she went to school there. With the way things had been between her and her parents when she had left Eastwood, there’s no telling where her life has led her.

  So, instead of losing my shit, I took my ass to the counter, opened my bag, and ate my breakfast. I fired off a quick group text, letting the gang know that I was going to be a day, or so, late getting into Eastwood. Amelia automatically asked if everything was okay, and when I assured her it was, I got thumbs ups and okays all the way around.

  I kept my face forward as I ate my breakfast, doing my best to ignore her. Everything in me wanted to drag her outside and demand answers, though.

  I just had to think of the questions first.

  Chapter 3

  Rory~

  He was sitting at the counter, and I knew he was sitting there because of me.

  Nerves had rendered me practically useless as he had tried to talk to me earlier. But staring up at the face that has haunted me for years, it had been hard to think, much less hold a conversation.

  And never mind that he was just as beautiful as he’s always been. He’s aged, and there was a scar that sliced through his left eyebrow that hadn’t been there before, but he was still sexy as hell.

  As I did my best to ignore him, I knew the second the only other patrons in the eatery left, there’d be nothing to use as an excuse to avoid him. It didn’t help that my lunch break was coming up in a few minutes. I’d really have no excuse then.

  And then, everything happened in perfectly horrible fashion as the couple who had been dining got up to pay for their meals and leave. I quickly rushed over to clean their table as Stacy rang them up. As I tossed all their dirty plates into the dish tote and wiped down their table and chairs, Stacy’s voice rang across the diner. “Are you ready for your lunch, Rory?”

  I almost let out a painful groan. I pulled from my deep, inner professional self and called over my shoulder, “Sure. Just let me finish up here.” I turned to finish cleaning up, but I felt a presence come up behind me. My heart stopped, but when I turned around, it was Stacy.

  “Are you eating here? Do you want me to put in your usual?” she asked.

  I let out the breath I was holding, and even though I would be starving later, I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to eat with Alistair here. My stomach felt like it was tied in knots, and greasy breakfast food didn’t sound safe at all.

  “Actually, I’m not feeling too well,” I lied-not-lied. “I think I’m going to go with some toast only.”

  Stacy cocked her head. “Do you need to go home?” she offered. “It’s not like it’s busy, hon.”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m just…a big lunch just doesn’t sound good right now.”

  Her lips curled inward, but she smiled. “Okay. Toast it is.” The semi-lie backfired though when she grabbed the tote out of my hands and said, “Let me get this for you. Go sit down and I’ll bring you your toast.”

  I stood like a fool in the center of the diner as Stacy walked back towards the kitchen. “Thank you,” I mumbled, but she was too far away to hear me.

  We had the option to eat in the restaurant or in the back in the employees’ lounge, but I knew I couldn’t put off talking with Alistair. He knew where I worked, so it wasn’t like he couldn’t come back and find me here later. And I couldn’t afford to quit, so….

  I gathered all the courage that was packed inside my body and made my way to the counter. Wordlessly, I sat down next to him, and waited for my toast.


  It was awkward.

  It was tense.

  It was awful.

  A few miserable moments later, he finally spoke. “Want to tell me what it was I did to receive that kind of reception?”

  My shoulder drooped because the truth was humiliating. Even though we hadn’t parted on bad terms, running into him when he looked so damn good and I looked like me was embarrassing. I didn’t like him seeing me rundown and overweight. Everything that was wrong with me cringed at the thought that he was probably grateful to have escaped a relationship with me, knowing what I looked like now. I hadn’t aged as well as he had, and that sat bitter on my tongue.

  But I couldn’t lie to him.

  With that one little sentence, he reminded me that he’s never done anything bad to me. Quite the opposite, in fact. I once loved this man to distraction, and knowing that I still kind of did, he didn’t deserve lies or bullshit.

  “I was embarrassed,” I admitted.

  We were both still facing forward when he asked, “Why?”

  Stacy saved me from having to answer when she walked over and set my toast in front of me. “Here you go, Rory.” Then she looked over at Alistair. “Is there anything else I can get you since you decided to stay?”

  Alistair’s voice was softer in his reply to her. “No, thank you.”

  Oblivious to Alistair’s rigidness and my inner meltdown, Stacy smiled. “Okay, well let me know if you two need anything.” I mentally groaned as she walked off. She had made it sound like we were here together, and it felt like kick in the stomach.

  “Why?” Alistair repeated, refusing to forget our conversation.

  I eyed the toast, and even the two simple slices didn’t seem like a good idea. That’s how knotted up inside I was. “Whenever I imagined seeing you again, I always pictured…well, I never pictured I’d be in an apron with dark circles under my eyes, my hair in a ponytail, and being thirty pounds overweight.” I inwardly cringed at my honesty.

  Even though my eyes were glued to the plate of toast, out of the corner of my eyes, I could still see him shift in his seat to face me. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was suddenly dry.