by K. Ryan
At the time, it was the right decision for both of us. We were young and I'd wanted to experience college just as much as he did, but circumstances were different now and college was in our rear view mirror.
So I gave him my number.
After another quick hug, he left to meet up with his party and I headed back towards mine. Becca wasted no time before she descended.
"Hey!" she untwisted herself from Eli long enough to grab my arm with a wickedly mischievous grin. "Was that Brandon Davis?"
"Um, yeah," I replied, my eyes flying to the audience at our table.
"So..." Becca trailed off, her eyebrows lifting impatiently as she waited for me to answer.
"He asked for my number. I think we might get together sometime soon or something," I shrugged noncommittally in an effort to sound unfazed by the whole thing.
If I was being completely honest with myself, it probably had something to do with the fact that Caleb had visibly stiffened less than a foot away from me. Given our history, I had no idea why this new development even mattered to him.
"Okay," Becca nodded quickly. "So, what now? Are you guys gonna...?"
"Geez, Becs, give me a second, alright?" I exhaled in exasperation.
We had literally just reconnected and already, Becca was jumping to delusions of grandeur.
Was it too much to ask for a little breathing room?
"Okay, okay," Becca's eyes widened as she spoke. "Geez, simmer down, will ya? I just forgot how hot he was and I got all excited for you. So sue me."
"Hey," Eli interjected. "I'm standing right here."
"Aw, come on," Becca smacked him playfully in the chest. "You know this has nothing to do with you."
Of course, it wasn't helping that all eyes and ears were directed towards our conversation. All I wanted at this point was for Becca to just let it go. We could talk about it later as soon as our current company's attention was occupied elsewhere.
All four of them were watching this play out with a varied mix of interest, mostly from Lexie, and annoyance, mostly from Dominic and Eli. Caleb was a harder read, landing somewhere in the middle as he stood a little too close for comfort with his arms folded tightly across his chest.
When Eli started nuzzling Becca's neck, I had to look away before my eyes started bleeding. Unfortunately, when I turned my head, my eyes collided with Caleb and the cloudy glint in his eyes sent a shiver down my spine. I smiled tightly, more so to reassure myself than anything else, and nearly closed my eyes with relief when the gesture was returned.
"So, Iz," a coldly detached voice called out to me from the left. "That asshat looked pretty happy to see you."
I rolled my eyes dramatically, more to downplay his animosity than anything. "C'mon, Caleb."
He just shrugged nonchalantly. "What?"
"Why don't you just go over there and have your stupid pissing contest already? And you know what? I bet one of the bartenders could probably find us a ruler too. Might as well get it all over with in one shot and find out whose dick is bigger once and for all."
I hadn't meant for that all to come out so...bitchy, but something about this dark, brooding attitude from him—and directed at me—had me sharpening my claws. Since I barely said a word about his weekend conquests at the clubhouse, it really wasn't too much to ask that he extend the same courtesy.
If I'd been expecting some sort of declaration of lifelong hatred towards Brandon Davis, something that wasn't exactly a secret anyways, I wasn't going to get it tonight. Instead, the cloudiness simmering in his eyes faded away. Now, Caleb's ocean-blue eyes glimmered with cocky mischief as he draped his arm over my shoulder once again with that crooked grin spreading across his lips.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" he murmured in my ear and leaned back with a sly wink.
Yes. I think I would.
Wait, what?
Heat flushed through my entire body, starting right where his mouth had just been and shooting all the way down to my toes. My eyes widened as his words and my thoughts finally caught up to my brain. When my head snapped to the right, only to find the rest of our table watching the scene with varied degrees of confusion and cocked eyebrows, that heat rushed right to my cheeks.
Caleb's arm slipped from my shoulders and the sudden loss of contact had me sucking in a breath.
What the hell?
Then he reached for the neck of his beer bottle like he hadn't just knocked me completely off-kilter, like he hadn't just sent shockwaves through my entire body with his little innuendo.
Asshole.
Against my better judgment, I dared one last glance to the other side of the table, only to find Becca and Lexie watching us with curious interest and Dom and Eli looking anywhere but at me.
Great.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Back-Up
Caleb
The stupid part just wouldn't slide in. I'd triple-checked to make sure I'd sized and greased it and the damn thing still wouldn't go where I needed it to go.
Story of my life.
Great, now I was thinking in metaphors and analogies and turning into a melodramatic chick.
One more turn of my wrench and finally, the damn thing slid into place. Just in time for my break too.
I'd spent way too much time and energy on one project and my mom was probably about ready to rip me a new one judging from the way she kept pacing around the office and flying daggers my way.
Speed and efficiency, she always drilled into my head, and today, it was painfully obvious my job performance wasn't exactly up to the auto mechanic Nazi's standards. But then again, my mom didn't exactly have realistic standards for just about anything.
I tossed a spent towel into a bin and headed straight for the parking lot, careful to keep my head down. Part of me just wanted to talk to Isabelle. The rumor floating around was that she'd been out with that asshole Brandon Davis a few times already and that they were getting back together.
Although I didn't typically make a habit of giving a shit about other people's personal lives, this new development was particularly unsettling.
Did I want to see Isabelle happy?
Of course I did.
But did that mean she had to get back together with a dipshit loser like Davis in order to do it?
Absolutely not.
It really wasn't any of my business to begin with, but I couldn't forgo the need to find out what exactly was happening there.
As I rounded the corner of the garage and stepped out onto the pavement, I almost skidded to a stop.
The picnic table was empty.
Huh.
Since the day she'd started here, it was like clockwork. My breaks almost always coincided with Isabelle's and I was positive we were scheduled to take the same break today. So where the hell was she?
Maybe Skyler or some customer was throwing her off schedule but from what I'd seen, Isabelle was punctual to a fault.
She hated being late for anything.
With a shrug, I plopped down on the bench and dug into my back pocket for my cigarettes. The good news—I could have a cig and not feel like a piece of garbage for smoking in front of Isabelle. The idea of her seeing me with a cigarette even in my hand, let alone lighting one up...Jesus, I think I'd rather take a nail gun to the face than put either of us through that.
The bad news—I had to sit here by myself. Lunch was really going to suck today.
I'd just dug a sandwich out of my bag when the office's front door slapped open and Isabelle practically tripped out the door, her phone clenched in a nasty death-grip. Her eyes frantically scanned the parking lot and just as I was about to wave her down, a silver Camaro pulled into the lot. Judging by the horrified, white-as-a-sheet expression on Isabelle's face, this all added up to no good.
Isabelle stood rooted to the ground as the Camaro's car door opened and a clean cut, gelled hair, preppy as shit dude slid out of the driver's seat.
And from the way Isabelle's panicked blue eyes darted
over to me, she didn't need to tell me who this guy was. Her alarm said it all.
Snapping into action, I swung my legs over the side of the bench and headed for the middle of the parking lot, which would set me right in between them. The only way to play this scenario was to treat it just like any other club business.
Play it cool. Don't show any unnecessary emotion. Never back down. Protect your own.
My feet didn't stop until I was just close enough to respect Isabelle's space, yet in prime position to jump in if necessary. When Isabelle flashed me a grateful smile, I knew I'd made the right call.
"Nick," she started, her hands up in front of her to appease him and she was closing the distance between them now. "I told you not to do this."
"Yeah, Isabelle?" he called out to her. "I guess I didn't listen."
There were a few things about this that already set me on edge and had me inching even closer with every second that ticked by. One—I really didn't like the way this guy was looking at her, like she was some sort of prize to be won. From as much as she'd told me, this guy just didn't know how to take a hint and now, he had the balls to show up at her work to—what? Convince her to do something she obviously didn't want to do? What the hell was this guy's endgame here?
And two—I really didn't appreciate the condescending tone. And the possessive way he said her name that had me ready to pounce, like he expected her to just drop everything and come running to him because he'd shown up here after she'd obviously told him not to.
Hell if I'd let that happen.
"Nick," Isabelle tried again, her voice taking on a more desperate edge. "I think you should go. We've been over this already. I still feel the same way I did before summer started and it's not going to change. I'll call you when you get back and we can talk then if that's what you want, but not here, not at my work, okay?"
Nick just shook his head and took one too many aggressive steps closer. "And I told you that I'm not gonna let you make the worst mistake of your life."
That was my cue to step in.
"Look, man," I jumped in, matching the jerk's steps tit for tat. "Iz clearly doesn't want you here and I don't appreciate you showin' up on my property like this uninvited. So, do yourself a favor and head back to wherever it is you came from."
The ex did a double-take, recognition and maybe a little self-awareness dawning on him as his dark eyes narrowed my way and he shot a glare back at Isabelle. "Is this the new guy you've been seeing?"
I stepped forward, ready to take one for the team, and opened my mouth to say as much, when Isabelle scrambled to get in between us, her hands pushing into us both to force some space.
"No, Nick, he's not," Isabelle told him and shot me an exasperated glance. "He's not. I am seeing somebody, but he doesn't work here."
There it was. The confirmation I'd been looking for. Fucking Brandon Davis. I just hadn't expected this overwhelming urge to either vomit or put my fist through something at hearing the words.
"Isabelle," Nick took another step closer to her and was stupid enough to reach for her too. "Do you think maybe we could go somewhere—alone—and talk about this rationally?"
"Hey—" I moved forward, but Isabelle's hand pressed in my chest to stop me from getting too close to her ex.
"Nick," she started again. "Caleb isn't leaving, but I think you should. There's nothing left to say and I'm really sorry you drove all the way here just to hear that, but—"
"I'm not going anywhere until you listen to what I have to say, Isabelle," Nick replied firmly.
"That's too bad," I retorted hotly. "Because it's time for you to go."
When Nick's eyes narrowed, taking on a grim, dangerous glint, and my body instinctively shifted so that I was standing directly between this pathetic asshole and my friend. Before all this started, I'd honestly been hoping I wouldn't have to get physical and now—well, I was sort of looking forward to it.
By this point, my mom poked her head out of the office, all narrowed eyes and annoyed glares. All I had to do was shake my head, signaling to her I had this situation locked down, and she got the hint.
Nick looked helplessly from Isabelle to me and then back to Isabelle again. He ran a hand through his hair and blew out a deep breath, like he was weighing his options.
"Look, Isabelle," he spread his hands out wide in front of him. "Just let me say what I need to say and then I'll go."
Isabelle glanced nervously at me, almost like she was asking for permission, and when I nodded curtly in the asshole's direction, his whole body relaxing with relief.
"Just answer me one question, okay?" Nick pleaded.
"What?"
"Are you happy here like this?" Before she could respond, he quickly held up a hand so he could clarify. "It's just a simple question. Are you happy? Do you like your life here?"
Well, I had to hand it to the prick.
I'd wondered that myself on numerous occasions and each time it crossed my mind, I always seemed to come to the same conclusion: how could she? After she'd told me the details of how and why she'd left school, I'd been able to wrap my head around her reasons for leaving. That made sense and it also fell in line with everything I knew about her.
What I couldn't reconcile was what she was doing back in town—while she claimed it was just a means to an end, that she was staying here and working at the shop just until she came up with a plan and some money, something about that just didn't add up. She didn't belong in Claremont, at least not for the long haul. Someone like her? She deserved more than what this town, and everyone in it, had to offer.
Isabelle was quiet for a few moments and I found myself anxiously holding my breath in anticipation.
"I don't know," she whispered finally. "But I do know that I wasn't happy at Duke and I wasn't happy with you either."
"You don't belong here, Isabelle. You never did and you know it. Don't sell yourself short—you're so goddamned smart and you could do anything you wanted to, so why waste yourself here in this place? You told me how much you couldn't wait to leave, how suffocated you felt here, so coming back just doesn't make any sense to me, not when there are so many better places for you to be."
After he'd said his peace, Nick took an exhausted, spent step backwards. If that was what he'd come here to do, then he'd accomplished it.
There was a small part of me, a part that wasn't quite tangible, that couldn't blame the guy for feeling this way. Why wouldn't he try to fight a little harder for Isabelle? Why wouldn't he refuse to give her up without a fight?
Isabelle was the kind of girl who was worth the fight.
Waiting for her to respond was like waiting for time to stand still—it just seemed to go on and on. Maybe she was delaying a response because she didn't want to hurt this guy's feelings anymore than she already had, but at this point, it felt like we both deserved some sort of resolution to this mess.
"Nick," she murmured, but her voice was steady and firm. "I appreciate that you care enough about me to drive all the way here to say that. I get where you're coming from. I really do. But it's not your responsibility to tell me where I belong and where I don't. You don't have that right and honestly, you never did. To tell you the truth, I have no idea where I should be or if Claremont is the right place for me, but I do know that I never belonged at Duke. I'm sorry you can't understand that, but where I go and what I do from here is my decision, not yours."
My eyes widened at her words. I'd half-expected her to yell at Nick, to demand he remove himself from the property and from her life, but I hadn't expected her to handle that like such an adult. I thought of all the times me and Ariel had screamed at each other, how she'd thrown anything at my head she could get her hands on, how I'd gotten so blinded with rage I'd almost physically lashed out at her more times than I was willing to admit, and neither of us had ever shown any kind of restraint, control, or clarity at the very end.
But now here was an example of how it should've gone—with maturity and consider
ation, not a blatant, selfish disregard for the other person's feelings and needs. The differences between Isabelle's situation and my own were staggering.
"Alright," Nick nodded slowly, seeming to recognize a lost cause when he saw one. "If that's really what you want and the way you feel then I guess I'll just go."
"Thanks," she reaffirmed, closing the short distance between them so she could wrap her arms around his neck. She released him just as fast and I had to swallow back a surge of pride that she was coming to stand next to me now and not him.
"I know you don't understand, but this is where I need to be right now. Bye, Nick."
"Bye, Isabelle," he smiled tightly, his hands sliding down to ball up into fists at his sides. Then, he abruptly turned towards me and extended his hand. There was nothing left to do but oblige him, so I silently shook it with a sharp nod.
"Take care of her," Nick pushed out with a hard edge.
"I will," I promised.
The funny thing was, I meant it too. Isabelle was my friend. Nobody forced me over here when Nick first showed up and nobody guilted me into staying for the whole non-showdown either. I stayed because I wanted to.
Then, Nick backpedalled for a few beats—probably for one last look and I couldn't fault him for that either—and then turned on his heel. When his car was down the street, I finally felt Isabelle relax next to me.
"Thank God that's over," she exhaled.
"Hey," I threw an arm over her shoulder and tucked her into my side. "It's done. He's gone and I gotta say, Iz, I'm impressed."
"Oh really?" she threw back at me. "And why's that?"
"Just the way you handled yourself," I shrugged easily, enjoying the fact that she was still nestled into my shoulder and hadn't enforced her no touching rule yet. "You didn't back down, Iz. I'm proud of ya."
"I don't know," she shrugged. "I think it was just the nail in the coffin he needed to see, you know?"
