“You have an answer to everything.”
“And you have a question for everything.” He reached for her and pulled closer by the strap of her bag, as if there was no one around watching. “I don't remember your being so cynical before.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes it feels like all you say to me is what I want to hear.”
“It is,” he shrugged, catching her around the waist so she couldn’t struggle away without drawing attention.
“You lied.”
“Never.” His gaze didn’t waiver. “Just because I say what you want to hear, doesn’t mean it’s not the truth.”
“But—” Friday night wasn’t supposed to be haunting her, and she certainly shouldn’t be considering doing it again. And, judging by the smirk on Eric’s face, he was enjoying every second of her struggle. “Why are you doing this?”
His smile shifted and eyes narrowed. “I find you interesting.”
Lena bit her lip and looked away. Maybe the smile she was fighting would be an appropriate response to his compliment, but he was too close to getting into her head. Where the hell is Jeremiah?
His thumb traced her chin. “I’m not messing with you, Sweetie.” He pried her hands loose, tugging her back out of her carefully constructed shell. “You’re a sweet girl, Lena. And I do have fun watching you. I’m glad you ran into me today.”
“I’m on the fence,” she tried to speak with as little emotion as possible, but Eric laughed and shook his head.
“Keep telling yourself that, little Loner. But remember, there’s only so far you can go if you don’t stop holding yourself back.” He straightened, throwing Lena off balance, and she stepped back to avoid reaching for him.
She tried to think of a retort that sounded just as witty, but she was interrupted by the rumbling approach of a Harley.
“Good to see you again, Rusty.” She forced a smile and turned to head down the stairs, feeling Eric’s eyes on her back as she walked away, put her arm around her ripped roommate's abs and swung her leg over the bike.
“Don’t even ask, just drive,” she whispered. The quicker she got the hell out of Eric’s sights, the quicker she could go back to reconstructing her fantasy.
***
By Friday, Lena still hadn’t managed to get Eric off her mind. She hadn’t seen him again—luckily for her sanity—but now curiosity was getting the best of her. As she sat on the front stoop of the school, waiting for Jeremiah to pick her up, Mrs. Cook strolled out with a handful of books and papers, nearly dropping half of the stack when the door swung closed against her arm. Lena jumped up to help, pushing the door open and allowing Mrs. Cook to balance the stack.
“Thanks,” she sighed, “what a week this has been.”
“No kidding,” Lena mumbled. She had no clue what the other teacher was talking about, but she could relate to the sentiment. “I can help you to your car, if you want. I’m waiting for my roommate to pick me up. He’s performing in a concert tonight, so he’s running a little late.”
“If you don’t mind, that would be wonderful.” Mrs. Cook handed off some of the books until they each had a manageable share of the pile. “How has your first year as a full-timer been so far?”
“Um, kind of crazy.”
“You’ll get used to that.”
“I’m sure. Say…” No, don’t give in to the curiosity. It’ll only get you in trouble. “Did Eric find you Monday?”
“Eric?” Mrs. Cook squinted, and paused, depositing her books on the trunk of her Buick to open the back door. “Oh, Charlie’s uncle?”
Charlie? Grove? She remembered him from one of her art classes last year. He was always an inquisitive kid, who enjoyed art.
“Yes,” Mrs. Cook continued, “It’s such a pity. That boy losing both his parents at the same time. And Eric, he’s in over his head, but I have to give him credit for coming back to take care of his nephew.”
Of all the things that could have been hiding underneath his flirty smile, that wasn’t what she’d expected. Lena tried to hide her shocked expression as Mrs. Cook’s words interrupted her thoughts again.
“He seems like a good man. Very concerned about Charlie.”
“Yeah,” Lena forced a smile, but all she wanted to do was retreat to a corner where she could put all the pieces together. With the last of the load covering the back seat, she waved goodbye and headed back to take a seat on the steps and wait for Jeremiah, while her brain ran in circles like a hyperactive kid with a truck load of new toys.
When she was subbing for the art teacher, she’d had Charlie’s Kindergarten class every other Monday. He seemed to love school, definitely loved to draw, but he talked to her more than he talked to the other students. At the end of the year, she’d asked all of her students to draw a hero so they could cover the walls of the art room. She remembered when Charlie finished his, he’d crept up to her desk to show her, and asked if he could tell her a story about his hero. Always interested in indulging the imagination of six-year-olds, she said sure, and he pulled up a chair and began telling her a story of monsters and zombies that tried to get into his house at night and how his hero kept them all away.
“He sounds extraordinary, does your hero have a name?”
“Decker,” he said, jumping out of his seat and handing her the picture.
“Well, we’ll hang Decker up in a special place so he can keep the zombies out of the classroom.”
“Okay.” Charlie started to walk back to his seat, but turned back at the corner of her desk. “When he’s done protecting the classroom, can I take him home to hang in my room.”
“Of course.”
When she heard Jeremiah’s approaching Harley, she hooked her bag over her shoulder and met him at the curb.
“You look miserable,” he said, “I thought you were looking forward to two hours of Beethoven.”
“I’m now distracted from my distraction.” She swung her leg over the Hog and laid her cheek against his back.
“Eric, eh?”
She poked Jeremiah in the ribs. “Just drive or you’re going to be late for curtain call.”
Eric
Eric pulled up to the side of the coffee shop and shut off the engine of the Land Rover. Cade’s car was already in the parking lot, so Eric headed inside and spotted his old friend in a quiet back corner with one cup of coffee in his hand, and another on the table next to him.
At least that meant Eric could skip the line, that is unless Cade had picked up a new drinking habit in the last year.
Cade lifted his head as Eric approached, “I’m happy to hear you got a reprieve for a night, but if you wanted to hang out tonight, there are more entertaining places to do it. How exactly did you talk your parents into taking Charlie?”
“Didn’t have to. They insisted.” Eric settled into the armchair and crossed his ankle over his knee. “Hell, Mom tried to convince me to let him live there.”
Cade stared him down for a second, then nodded to the cup on the table. “And, you’re considering it?”
He picked up the coffee and rested it on the arm of the chair while he rubbed his eyes. “No, I’m not considering it, but I haven’t even had him for a week, and if they hadn’t offered to take him tonight, I might have gone insane. He doesn’t talk. He….” Eric shook his head, unable to find a suitable way to describe the empty feeling he got from his nephew.
“It’ll take time. I assume I shouldn’t ask how you’re doing with moving back home?”
Eric shrugged. The last time he’d been to town was for Christmas—he’d nearly been tempted to move back then, if not for yet another disagreement with his brother-in-law. Which had been followed by more family drama and the digging up of old skeletons. Once again, he’d been relieved to see the town shrinking in his rear view mirror. Then again, new towns and fresh starts weren’t all they’re cracked up to be either. “Everything is just complicated. Charlie hasn’t spoken since the accident. No one is even entirely certain what caused it. Mo
m is her usual critical self.”
“Dude, no offence, but your mom isn’t critical, she’s full-on bitchy.”
Eric didn’t argue, even if he tried, he’d get Cade’s general argument that after knowing Eric’s family for more than thirteen years, he had a right to be blunt. “You’ve just dealt with the brunt of her anger more than most people.”
“Oh, right,” Cade tipped his head back, “sorry, I helped you get a job and kept you out of jail.”
Eric laughed and rubbed his temple. “Once,” he reminded Cade, “One run-in with the law was enough, the charges were dropped, and the guy deserved it. But, yes, I’ll give you credit where it’s due, I learned a lot about my temper and how to control it, thanks to you. But according to Mom, you just corrupted me further.”
“Speaking of that corruption, you should take advantage of your free night. Get your mind off of things, with something a bit better than coffee.”
“I’m not in the mood for the club, nor have I talked to Adrienne about coming back.”
“Adrienne will give you a pass, and reinstate your membership at the drop of a hat. Or is your hesitance about the girl you were trying to pick up in the bar last week? Did you even tell her your real name?”
“I did on Monday.” He said, not bothering to acknowledge the rest of Cade’s observations—sometimes, it was best not to encourage him. “She works at Charlie’s school.”
“I know. She may not be a regular, but her roommate is. If she’s really the object of your interest,” he shook his head, “why the hell are you here talking to me?”
“Because, aside from tracking her down while she’s at work, I have no idea how to find her. And, she didn’t seem thrilled last time I showed up at the school.”
Cade took a long breath. “She has always been the type to keep to herself.” He glanced at his watch, then studied Eric for a moment. “Ah hell, I’d wager she’ll be at Morrow Falls High School for the next few hours.”
Eric’s coffee sloshed through the lid as he sat it down a little harder than intended.
“Don’t just stare at me like a wide-eyed idiot. Go find your girl. Her roommate, Jeremiah, is performing tonight, he warned me he’d be bringing a group into the bar after the show—Beethoven or some classical honcho.”
Eric hesitated, was he desperate enough to go chasing after a girl he’d just met? More importantly, if he found her, he wondered how far he’d go to find out what she hid behind those timid green eyes? “You’re sure Lena will be there?”
“They’re close, so it’s not very often that she misses his performances, especially when he has a solo, and it’s a one-time deal. Why are you still sitting here?”
“I assume you’ll want the abridged version of that answer.”
Cade pinched the bridge of his nose. “Actually, I don’t want any answer. Put on your fucking Dom britches and go find your subbie before the show starts, and you end up groping around a dark auditorium filled with people twice your age.”
Eric wasn’t sure which part of that sentence threw him off more, but he shook his head and stood. If he didn’t get out of the coffee shop soon, every patron would be staring at the two of them. And sure, Cade’s plan was perfect in theory—but in practice, he had to approach everything with Lena differently. It wasn’t as if he had never worked with a new sub, but when he had, those women had come into the lifestyle willingly—they’d made their decision before meeting him. Figuring out when and how to broach the subject with Lena would be another matter entirely. One that couldn’t be avoided for long, but he’d already watched her struggle behind her built up defenses. If he pushed her, she could just as easily close herself off as crumble to pieces, and neither of them was ready for those possibilities.
Lena
The concert wouldn’t start for another forty-five minutes, leaving Lena with full reign over the mostly empty auditorium. She found a good aisle seat near the back of the room, pulled a book out of her bag, and settled back in the uncomfortable seat, propping her feet up on the back of the seat in front of her.
Rude, yes, but she never could stand to sit like a “lady” despite the years of nagging.
People darted around the auditorium fixing this and that, tweaking the lighting and sound equipment. She hated coming early to these things, but it usually gave her time to read—as long as she could get her brain to concentrate on words instead of letting every little movement of the tech crew disturb her.
She blamed Eric and her own damn curiosity since crashing into him on Monday. If not for that, she wouldn't have started clinging to the idea of seeing him again. Of knowing more about him.
And now, because she opened her mouth, the fantasy had shattered even more. He came back to town to care for his orphaned nephew, not start a relationship with some schoolteacher he’d met in a bar.
She grunted, and threw herself back into the book; managing to read only a sentence before Eric invaded her thoughts again.
Damn him.
He invaded her thoughts and invoked reactions like nothing she’d ever experienced. Her friends—if she ever told them about such things—would accuse her of exaggerating, but it was the truth. Besides a few crushes in middle school and high school that never went past staring across the room at the object of her interest, she'd only been interested in one guy. Even that couldn’t compare. Eric could accomplish with a few words and glances what no other guy had been able to do.
And if nothing else, she wanted to know how.
The doors opened, and groups of people began filing in. From the looks of it, she was going to be the youngest person in the room by at least twenty years. She sank down and buried her face in the book again, hoping that it wouldn't get so crowded that people would actually sit around her. Her feet were still propped up on the seat in front of her, and unless pressed, that was exactly where they were going to stay.
A hand brushed her shoulder, and she bit back the urge to glare up at its owner. Instead, she glanced over to see feet clad in motorcycle boots, half covered in dark jeans. Those certainly weren’t the brown loafers she’d come to expect from most attendees of these events. Slowly, her eyes climbed his body, until her heart jumped up and made a nest in her throat.
“Is the Loner saving every seat in this section?”
“Maybe.” She blinked before her eyes dried out as much as her mouth.
Eric glanced to her feet, silently asking for permission to pass.
She let them drop off the chair but left her legs stretched out, ensuring he wouldn’t pass easily. “Are you stalking me?”
So much for having plenty of room to stretch out, she thought as Eric climbed past her and took the next seat. She hated sharing armrests under normal circumstances—sharing an armrest meant they'd inevitably touch. Just the thought of it made her insides squirm with anticipation.
“Of course I’m not stalking you,” he explained, “I always hang out at Beethoven concerts—it's a great place to pick up women.”
Lena looked around the room, and then raised an eyebrow and whispered, “You have some kind of grandma fetish I don't know about?”
His eyes squinted slightly at the word fetish, and Lena tried to let it go, asking herself why on earth she’d ask that question anyway.
“What are you really doing here?” Lena lowered her voice as the room continued to fill, and people began sitting in nearby seats.
“I came to see you.”
“So, you are stalking me?” Watching him out of the corner of her eye, she tucked her book into her bag and slid it back next to her leg.
“No, that would imply that I'm going to follow you home tonight, or that I’ve been creeping outside your house. I heard a rumor that you might be here, so I thought I'd take my chances.”
With his smug face, she wondered if there was any situation he wasn't confident in, but he hadn't exactly explained how he knew she’d be here, after all, she wasn’t aware of anyone who kept track of her whereabouts. “A rumor—w
ho the hell is keeping track of me?”
Eric raised his eyebrows, “You've got quite a mouth for an elementary school teacher.”
“I teach third grade, I'm not in it. Now answer my question.”
“My friend, Cade—”
“The bartender?”
He nodded. “Well, he’s not technically a bartender, he owns the place.”
“What?” The soles of Lena’s shoes smacked against the floor as she dropped her feet, and the group sitting a few rows ahead turned to glare. “Oops….”
“Cade knew your roommate was performing tonight and said you'd probably be here.”
Lena quietly put the pieces together. That meant that Eric was asking after her, and at the very least was going out of his way to see her again. Her heart rushed unnecessary amounts of blood to her extremities, and she felt herself flush, despite her efforts to distract herself and calm down.
“Why?” She meant to ask more, to be more specific, but that's the only word that managed to make it all the way from her brain to her lips. The rest were intercepted by other random thoughts bouncing from neuron to neuron.
“Because,” he replied as if his one word answer was enough. That was like answering a question about the meaning of the universe with a yes or no.
Lena drew in a breath, even with people rustling around her, chairs squeaking and voices chattering, the only thing she could concentrate on was Eric. His smell tugged on her stomach, and forced its way even deeper until she could barely sit still.
She wanted to cuss him out for making her feel this way, but instead she hunkered down and cursed to herself. Fuck me.
Eric’s eyes widened, and he leaned forward to stare at her.
“Oh no, I said that….” She squeezed her eyes closed, put her hands over her burning face, and sunk as far down as the seat would allow.
“Yes, you did.” She felt his breath as he whispered in her ear, “But if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think anyone else heard it.”
“Mhh.” If she could barely last a few minutes sitting this close to him without losing it, she had no idea how she was going to sit through more than an hour of classical music in a dark room with his looming presence inches away.
Bound and Unbroken Page 3
