To my disappointment he releases my hand and walks ahead of me and into the restaurant. Weird because he seemed to purposefully slow his pace to walk side by side when we left the cottages.
After a quick request for a table on the patio we’re led to a small outdoor area that’s sheltered by wisteria vines and twinkle lights. Aden pulls my chair out for me and despite the 180-flip in his mood I smile at the gentlemanly gesture.
“What?” He sits across from me, his gaze intent on mine.
“I’ve never had a chair pulled out for me before.”
“No?” He raised an eyebrow. “None of your globetrotting boyfriends pulled out a chair for you, huh?” He shakes out his napkin and drapes it across one thigh. “All money. No class.” He cringes but only slightly.
I try not to read too much into it or let his opinion of my sister’s dating life make me angry; after all, he’s probably right.
I pick up my menu and pretend to be looking at the options when I’m really trying to figure out where I went wrong. He’s only been like this with me twice, and both times it was when I brought up the military.
“Can I get you something to drink?” A female voice sounds from our tableside and before I can open my mouth to order an iced tea, Aden’s barking an order for two whiskeys.
I curl my lips between my teeth and wait for her to leave before leveling him with a stare. “I don’t drink whiskey.”
He leans back and drops his hands to his thighs. “Why am I not surprised?”
I keep my eyes fixed on his and hope he looks away first but he tilts his head and keeps his gaze locked with mine.
I lean in. “I’m sorry.”
He blinks.
“I didn’t know,” I whisper. “Now I do, and it won’t happen again.”
“What’re you talkin’—”
“Your military career.”
He jerks like I socked him in the gut and his shoulders tense.
“It’s a topic you’re not comfortable with, I see that now. I didn’t know that before, so please stop punishing me. I made a mistake, I apologize, so you can stop looking at me like I’m the enemy here.”
His mouth opens to say something but the waitress comes with our drinks. She puts them on the table and turns to leave.
“Wait,” he snaps at the poor girl. “She’d like to order something else.”
I envision Celia in the seat instead of me and imagine how she’d respond.
The waitress looks at me and rather than order an iced tea I pick up the whiskey and nod. “This is fine. Thank you.”
He narrows his eyes. “Really?”
I take a sip and fight the cringe that crawls up the back of my neck as the burning booze slides down my throat. “Delicious.”
A hint of a grin curls his lips and he sips from his own drink staring at me like I’m some freaky side-show he’s enjoying.
We keep the conversation relatively impersonal from that moment on. I ask him about fishing and he seems content talking about different fish, market prices, and San Diego history.
Turns out whiskey isn’t all that bad and the baked rigatoni was as good as he promised. It isn’t until our waitress asks if we’d like dessert that I remember why we’re here and begin to get nervous about going to Lenny’s.
Chances are there will be a lot of people who know my sister and will be asking me things and talking about situations I know nothing about. Luckily Aden will be with me. I figure, two whiskeys and I’m almost slurring, anyone who notices my lack of memory will just chalk it up to me being drunk.
I try to pay half of the bill but Aden stares at me in a way that says “Don’t you fucking dare pull out your wallet.”
Having not been on many real romantic dates, I’m not familiar with protocol, but I allow him to pay. He seems more at ease, and when we’re walking out to his car and he hooks me around the waist I practically melt into his arms.
“Whoa, you drunk, freckles?” He chuckles at my ear, sending goose bumps down my arm.
“I told you I don’t drink whiskey.” I try to push off of him but his powerful arm holds me close.
“What I saw, I’d say you drink it just fine.” There’s humor in his voice as he steers me away from the parking lot to the sidewalk.
“Where are we going?”
“Lenny’s. It’s on the next block over.” He peeks over at me. “How do you not know where Lenny’s is?”
I pretend to window shop in the beachside boutiques so he can’t see my face as I struggle for a believable answer. “I do, I just meant, why aren’t we going to the car?”
“I figured it would be better for you to walk off some of that liquor.”
“Hmm . . . probably smart.”
It’s a short walk and I’m having a hard time keeping one foot in front of the other with the way his thumb is tracing circles on my hip.
The neon Lenny’s sign comes into view up ahead. It’s on a corner, and reggae music filters from the retractable windows along the two street-facing walls. It is what I’d consider to be the typical beach bar but with a modern flair.
Just like earlier, Aden tenses and loses his good humor the second we walk through the door. He leads me to a high-top table in the corner right by an open window, but his eyes are fixed on an older man who is making drinks behind the bar.
That must be Lenny.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
He’s lying. “We don’t have to stay.”
Finally he moves his eyes from the man at the bar, but he doesn’t look at me. Now his gaze is shifting from person to person, from one side of the room to the next, and then he pushes in beside me so that his back is to the wall and something about the new position seems to make him relax a little.
“You want me to go get us drinks?”
He lifts an eyebrow at me, but doesn’t smile. “You sure you need one?”
Yep, grumpy Aden is back.
And suddenly I long to be back at Celia’s wrapped in a cozy blanket with a good book.
“Celia!” Zöe comes up from behind me and wraps me in a hug. “You made it.”
Her eyes land on my empty hands. “You need a drink.”
“Oh . . . actually, I think I’m good.”
The girl’s eyebrows pinch together and she studies me for a moment before she bursts into laughter. “Good one, I’ll grab you a drink.” She spots Aden and does a double take. “Hey, Aden.”
“Zöe.” He doesn’t even look at her, his eyes are still constantly scanning as if he’s looking for a threat.
“Lenny know you’re here?”
“Don’t know, but I’ll go say hi to make sure he does.” He grins wickedly and whispers in my ear, “I’ll be right back,” followed up by a quick squeeze before moving through the crowd toward the bar.
Zöe watches him walk away, then turns back to me with huge saucer eyes. “You and Aden?”
“No, er. . . . I don’t—”
“I can’t believe you’re bumping uglies with Aden Colt!”
“Gross, I’m not bumping . . .uglies.”
“Sure you’re not. The guy is hot as hell and you’re not screwing him. That’s the funniest damn thing I’ve ever heard, Celia.”
“I swear we’re not doing anything.”
She props her hands on her hips. “Who are you?”
If it weren’t for the back of my barstool I would’ve fallen right off it. She sees right through me. No crap, Sawyer! No drink, denying a meaningless relationship, sitting with my legs crossed—I’m not even trying to act like Celia.
I give into the lingering pull of liquor in my blood and allow it to turn me into a noodle. “Okay, fine, you got me. We’re dating.”
“Dating?” She scoots in closer. “You and Aden Colt are dating?” Her expression would indicate that I’m still not a convincing Celia.
“Dating,” I say, using air quotes. “You know what I mean, hooking up.”
Silence stretches between us and she
searches my eyes before she finally nods. “I knew it.”
“It’s just temporary, ya know, something to pass the time until I move.” My stomach feels sick at how easily the words are falling from my lips. Casual sex isn’t something I’ve ever supported or been party to, but Celia has mastered it.
She studies me for a moment, then nods. “Whatever you say.” She shrugs. “Just be careful.”
My ears perk up. “Why would you say that?”
I follow her gaze that’s on Aden talking to who I assume to be Lenny behind the bar, neither of them looking all that excited to see the other.
“He’s got a bit of a reputation.” She scoots a stool closer to me and drops down to sit. “Brice and his friends call him Sergeant Psycho.”
“Why?”
“The dude isn’t stable.” Her eyes widen. “But who cares, he’s sexy.”
“What makes everyone think he’s psycho?” I’m reminded of his sudden mood swings, how he goes from being flirtatious to angry, he’s easily irritable, and seems to have very little impulse control. What if he is psycho? My heart thuds dully in my chest thanks to the booze pumping through my veins.
“He used to be a bouncer here. I heard they fired him because he attacked a cab driver.” Zöe’s eyes are wide. “Totally unprovoked.”
I have a hard time believing that. Aden’s a tough guy, but to attack someone for no reason makes no sense. Unless he’s crazy.
“Not too long ago he had an accident at the cliffs.” Her thinly shaped eyebrows are high on her forehead. “He said he slipped while he was running, but rumor has it he jumped.”
I turn to look at him, his maroon tee hugging his thick, tan biceps and his strong jaw locked as he listens to whatever that Lenny guy is saying. He seems so capable, I can’t imagine him taking the coward’s way out and trying to kill himself. I also saw him balance on one foot while leaning over the edge of his boat to bring in a fish and I can’t see him accidentally slipping off anything.
“I’m sure he told you he put the guys who broke into your house in the hospital.”
I blink, barely registering her words. “Hold on . . . he did what?”
“He used to live in Cal’s cottage. He caught the guys who broke into your place and beat the shit out of them. After that he moved to Cal’s boat.”
I cover my mouth, shaking my head, and words fail to form.
“There were two of them, decent-sized dudes, but Aden bloodied them both.”
“Whoa . . .” I knew he was a tough guy, ex-military, but I didn’t know he was violent. My belly rumbles and threatens to spill.
She leans back nodding. “Aden is gorgeous, but there’s something off about him.”
I look back to find him watching me. When our eyes meet, the corner of his mouth lifts in a crooked smile that sends flutters throughout my body.
Sawyer would never give a guy with this kind of violent history a second of her time.
Leave it to Celia to fall for a guy who’s nothing but trouble.
TEN
ADEN
“So we’re good?” I toss cash on the bar for the two drinks Lenny just made for me.
He snatches the money and nods. “As long as you’re a paying customer and you don’t start shit in my bar we’re good.”
I try to ignore his condescending tone and move through the room, weaving around people and tables. The cramped space has paranoia clawing at my nerves. My gaze is steady on Celia and imagining peeling those clothes off her to see how far those freckles go distracts me from the delusions.
“Here.”
Celia takes the drink from me and sniffs it. “What is it?”
“Ginger ale.”
She seems relieved and takes a long pull from her straw.
“Whoa, ginger ale.” Zöe’s words drip with sarcasm. “You guys are going big tonight, huh? You better not be driving.”
I take a swig and frown at the sugary sweetness. It’s been years since I’ve had a soda that didn’t have rum or whiskey in it, and the absence is an odd change. I have a limited number of days with Celia and if this date leads where I’m hoping, there’s no way I’m going to be drunk for that. “I don’t see you with a drink.”
Zöe jumps off her stool. “Excellent point! I’ll be right back.”
Celia’s stirring her soda with the straw and motions to the recently vacated stool. “Have a seat.”
“Nah. I’m good.” I lean back against the brick wall and the hardness buys me a little peace of mind. Thankfully the whiskey from dinner is still coursing through my veins, which takes the sting off being in a room with this many people. But even still, I can’t give them my back. Not if I want to keep my promise to Lenny about not starting trouble.
She shifts around uncomfortably in her seat and fidgets with her straw. I zero in on her body language; one hand rubbing up and down her thigh obsessively, chin dipped to her chest, avoiding eye contact.
“Hey.”
She peers up at me and her eyes dart around.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“What makes you think there’s something going on?”
I place my drink down and lean in close, making sure to hold her violently green eyes with mine. “Don’t answer a question with a question. You’re not comfortable here. Why?”
Her eyes flare wide and then she blinks. “I guess . . . let’s just say I came back here a different person and . . .” She takes a sip of her drink. “I don’t want to run into people I used to know.”
“Then why did we come here?”
She shakes her head and mumbles, “It’s stupid.”
I hook her chin and bring her eyes back to mine. “Tell me.”
She searches my eyes, I assume trying to figure out what her chances are of me letting her off the hook. I lift a brow, hardening my gaze. She sighs and straightens one leg to dig into her pocket and pull out a quarter. Flipping it over in her hand she shows it to me. “Because of this.”
I grab the coin from her and study it. Nothing special about it, looks like an average everyday quarter. “I don’t get it.”
“I tend to overthink things so when I’m forced with a decision I flip the coin.”
“No shit?”
She smiles, but it’s shy, almost embarrassed. “I told you it was stupid.”
“What if it lands on something you don’t want—”
“Hey, Celia!”
Her eyes flash with panic before she turns toward the voice of a woman who is shoving her way through the crowd toward us. It isn’t until she emerges from the crowd that I recognize her.
She throws her arms around my date. “Zöe told me you were back!”
Celia’s eyes dart to mine in a silent plea for rescue as she awkwardly pats the back of her unwanted guest. “Yeah, I am back.”
“It hasn’t been the same here without you!” She pulls away and looks at me as if she just realized I’m standing here. “Aden, hey . . . Lenny know you’re here?”
“Polly.” I grit my teeth. “He does.”
She drops onto the stool closest to Celia. “So? Where were you this time? Bali? Portugal? Spain?”
Celia shifts on her seat, the discomfort she spoke about earlier clearly showing in her body language. She clears her throat and sips her soda. “Phoenix.”
Polly wrinkles her nose. “Phoenix. Like Arizona?”
“Mm-hmm.” Celia has her straw in her mouth guzzling down her drink and pretty soon it’ll be gone and she’ll have no excuse to avoid talking.
“Why Phoenix? Sounds . . . boring.”
“Family stuff.”
“Oh yeah? Like what? Everything okay?”
The bubbling slurp signaling the end of her drink sounds just before she sets the empty glass down. “Sure.”
“Were you there to see your sister?”
Celia’s chin jerks toward Polly. “Why would you think that?”
Polly frowns. “I know you worry about her.”
“I do?” H
er voice is almost a whisper and I have to wonder if she really spoke or I imagined it.
“Oh, I don’t know, just from what you said about her having no life and having that thing where she’s afraid to leave her house and stuff . . . what’s that called . . .” She purses her lips.
“Agoraphobia.” Celia’s face looks paler than usual.
I put my hand on her shoulder and squeeze, hoping to signal to her that maybe it’s time to go. Clearly whatever shit she’s dealing with about seeing old friends is more serious than I thought.
“Yes!” Polly grins. “Was that why you went?” Her eyes widen. “Did your sister finally snap and lock herself in her house like you predicted?”
Celia’s eyes come to mine and the terror I see flash in those emerald depths triggers something in my chest that has me helping her off her stool. “Come on, it’s time to go.”
“Hold on, Aden . . .” Polly stands too. “You guys just got here.”
“I’m sorry.” Celia stumbles to get through the cluster of barstools. “We have plans to, uh . . .”
I wrap my arm around her waist, surprised at how quickly she leans into me for support. “We’re late for our movie.”
“Movie . . .?” Polly mumbles.
“Yeah, we’ll catch up later.” Celia doesn’t look at the woman, but allows me to guide her out of the bar.
“Okay, call me!” Polly yells to our backs as we push through the crowd.
Once we’re outside I lead her down the sidewalk toward the beach, allowing the silence between us to stretch on until we reach a bench just shy of the sand. I motion for her to sit and she drops like dead weight, her eyes fixed on the black horizon, the only light coming from the moon and a flickering street lamp.
Too anxious to sit and trying to ignore the unwarranted paranoia, I pace with my fists propped on my hips. “Start talking.”
She blinks, as if my voice called her from wherever she was. “Excuse me?”
I stop right in front of her. “Your face went ghost back there. I want to know why.”
“It’s nothing.” Her gaze moves back to the horizon and I want to shake her to get her to look at me.
“You’re lying.” I hate how easily she can lie to me. “Answer me.” Her eyes snap to mine. “Stop barking orders at me.”
Wrecked Page 12
