by Susan Renee
I lay her keys on the small table inside her door, assuming that’s probably where she keeps them. On the table already is a traveling coffee mug, a stack of post-it notes, and a pen. I quickly leave a note for her next to her keys so she realizes that someone brought her car back for her.
Savannah is in this apartment.
I can smell her.
Sleeping?
I should check on her.
I should absolutely not check on her.
Against my better judgment I continue into her apartment and turn to quietly close her door. I make my way into her kitchen and look around. It’s dark but she’s left a light on over her sink. She must wake up throughout the night and need a drink.
A drink.
Perfect!
I search the cupboards until I find her glasses and quietly take one out and fill it with water. It won’t be cold but it’s still water. I place it on the counter and look through more of her cupboards, hoping to find some Advil. Many of her cupboards are bare. She doesn’t keep much for herself around here – just a few dishes, glasses and mugs. My heart melts for her a little more.
She deserves so much more than this.
A-ha! I find a bottle already open sitting farther down on the counter. I pull three of them out and lay them next to the glass of water. Going back to grab a post-it note, I scribble a quick note to her in hopes it’ll help with the hangover she’s bound to have in the morning. I want to check on her so badly but I just can’t risk being seen. She doesn’t ever need to know I was here, that just seeing her again has brought back feelings I had forgotten I had. Life gets in the way sometimes and we forget about things until they’re presented to us a second time and in a different circumstance. Wishing this were a happier circumstance, I make my way back to her door, pulling it closed behind me and watching as Cole locks it from the outside with his key.
“Thanks, man. I owe you one.”
“Anytime, Bryant, and your secret is safe with me.”
“Thanks.” As much as I wish I could just sit outside and wait for her to wake up so I can make nice, I know that’s a ridiculous idea. This is going to take time. I’m going to have to play it cool if I even have a half a chance with this girl’s heart. She’s not going to throw it out there very easily, that I do know. Somehow, I’ll have to make her see that she needs me.
Chapter 4
Savannah
I don’t feel nearly as bad as I should, having just woken up from a night of pretty heavy drinking. It’s almost disappointing. Maybe I’m just not the lush I thought I was, or maybe that asshole of a bartender was watering down the drinks. Sitting up in bed doesn’t cause the room to spin as I expected it would, and my head isn’t hurting worse than a dull ache. Regardless, I make my way to the kitchen to grab some Advil and orange juice, and maybe even a quick bowl of oatmeal. I walk into the kitchen towards the sink to grab a glass from the cupboard above except…there is already a glass of water sitting out on the counter, a bottle of Advil right next to it. A yellow sticky note lies next to them that reads,
Take two and make some toast.
You’ll feel better.
“What the fuck?” I say aloud.
This isn’t my handwriting.
Who the hell was in my apartment? Are they still here?
Shit!
“Hello?” I say a little louder than usual for someone who lives alone. Still holding onto the note, I quietly tip toe through the kitchen to my living room, shaking a bit with every step. Nobody other than my parents and Cole has a key to my apartment. I don’t know why I’m just now deciding to go all silent ninja once I’ve already said hello. Not one of my brighter moments. A quick and silent walk through every room in the apartment shows no evidence of someone having been here.
Was I that drunk that I don’t remember?
I walk to my door and confirm to myself that it is indeed locked but laying on the table right inside the door where I usually throw my mail is my car key with another note.
It’s parked out front. You’re welcome.
“What the…?” I mumble.
Quickly I dash to the front window where I can clearly see my red Ford Fusion parked in the lot.
I didn’t drive my car back last night.
I walked.
Nobody has my car keys.
Who the fuck moved my car?
And why?
Having absolutely no clue how any of this matches up, I walk back to my room and grab my phone. I send a text message to Rachel asking her if it was her that moved my car. She doesn’t answer right away so I gather that she must still be sleeping off last night as well. Needing to hit the grocery store before I go to work, I make my way to the bathroom to get myself decently ready for the day. The shop doesn’t open until noon, so I have just enough time to get what I need for the next few days.
Ten minutes later, I’m making my way through the aisles of Save-A-Lot, throwing my necessities into my cart. Since I spend a lot of time alone, I’ve become a good cook. It’s easier to learn to cook for myself than it is to be spotted around town eating by myself. I suppose I could live off of ramen noodles and Spaghetti-o’s like the college students do, but who can eat that shit as an adult? Yeah it sucks sometimes having more left overs than I know what to do with, but at least it provides me with a decent lunch the next day. I get through the produce section, picking up my favorite vegetables, and turn down aisle four for a few other ingredients for tonight’s dinner.
“Seven Sanders...it’s good to see you up and at ‘em this morning.” I hear the male voice say. I turn my head from where I just grabbed a bag of noodles with my mouth hanging open.
Fuck. Not the bartender again.
“Looks like you’re making it through the morning just fine huh? The alcohol didn’t do you in, I guess.” He smirks.
“It’s Seven Turner. Savannah Turner, I mean.” I say shaking my head. “My name isn’t Seven...”
He leans effortlessly against the shelf in front of me. “Yeah well my name isn’t Jackass or Asswipe but you seemed to have no problem calling me by those names last night, sweetheart.”
“Hey, if the shoe fi…” My voice fades away when I finally make eye contact with the guy speaking to me. The short soft hair, the deep brown eyes, the most likely very sexy body under those clothes…it takes my breath away for just a moment. There’s something about him though that I can’t place.
“Do I know you?”
“Apparently not.”
“Should I know you?”
“I would’ve thought.”
What the hell...
“Do you always talk like Dr. Seuss?”
He smirks. “Is that what you now deduce?”
Hmm. He’s good.
“Ok, point for you. Now how do you know who I am? Are you an old client?”
He tries to hold back a smile but can’t.
“Nope, I’m your old friend Bryant.”
Har har.
“My old friend Bry…” I narrow my eyes. It can’t be.
“Wood,” he says quietly. “Bryant Wood.”
I gasp loudly. “Bryant ‘The Giant’ Wood?” I ask. “That Bryant?”
He winces and throws his head back in a hearty laugh. “Touché, Seven. I guess I deserved that. Nicknames can be brutal. So you do remember me then.” He grins, crossing his arms in front of him, an action that causes his biceps to bulge in front of me.
Holy hell.
“Remember you?” I raise an eyebrow before rolling my eyes. “How could I ever forget ‘Mr. Climb-my-stalk-and-free-the-giant’ Wood?” I cast my eyes quickly over the body standing in front of me, surprised that I could actually see it as desirable, if it didn’t belong to Bryant Wood, the biggest asshole of my high school class. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. You’ve uh… changed.” I try not to notice how his shirt sleeves tighten at his biceps when his arms cross, but sometimes a girl can't help it. Football obviously agreed with him. Bryant’s body rem
inds me of a young farmer in a way: hard around the edges from days of hard work, but built and warm enough to want to snuggle up next to.
Whoa.
Where the fuck did that come from?
I shake my head, blinking quickly and hoping that Bryant isn’t perceptive enough to know what I was thinking just now. The smirk on his face tells me I’m probably wrong.
“Doesn’t everybody?” he asks. “I mean look at you, Seven. You’re…beautiful.” His eyes drag leisurely down my body and back up, resting on the mounds of flesh attached to my chest, making it very clear that like most men, Bryant is a boob man. I watch as he licks his lips like a lion about to pounce on his lunch. Think again, buddy.
Yeah, I’m not the little fat girl anymore douchebag.
“Yeah? Well, I guess people change as they grow up don’t they Bryant? Maybe I should say thanks…except I don’t really feel that grateful. You certainly did a bang-up job of telling everyone how much I was changing back in the day.” I roll my eyes again and shake my head. “If you’ll excuse me I just need to finish my shopping and get home before I have go to work.”
Bryant looks caught off-guard for a second, tilting his head in confusion. He shakes his head slightly and says, “I’m sorry. Did I…offend you in some way?”
Ugh. It’s not worth the argument and will only make me look like the petty one. He doesn’t even remember that far back. “No.” I roll my eyes. “Don’t worry about it.”
I watch as he inhales deeply, not saying anything, before he looks in my shopping cart. I suddenly feel violated, like someone just peeked into my medicine cabinet.
“Carrots, celery, peas, noodles…looks like someone’s making homemade soup,” he says to change the subject.
“So what if I am?”
“I like soup,” he says.
“I don’t care.”
“Maybe we should have soup together sometime.”
Like Hell.
“I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“Why not?”
“Because I didn’t like you then, and I don’t think I like you now.” I spit out.
“Ouch.” He chuckles. “Why don’t you like me now?”
“Because I don’t like men who push themselves on women.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?” he asks.
“Isn’t it?”
“Not at all, Seven. I’m just trying to have a friendly conversation with an old classmate who, yes, happens to be attractive, and like myself, also happens to like soup. Is that such a bad thing?”
The dimple in his cheek is a cute feature. I hadn’t noticed it before.
“The jury’s still out on that one.”
“Well, when the verdict is in, please do let me know. Chicken soup is good for the soul as they say; I mean, I hear they write books about it and stuff.” That tickles my funny bone enough to finally chuckle out loud. Damn him and his smart mouth.
“Yeah, I guess they do.” I nod my head towards his shopping cart, taking stock in what he’s purchasing. “Didn’t you know ‘Trix are for kids,’ Bryant? I’m pretty sure the age limit on that sugar intake is like twelve or something.”
He chuckles but doesn’t seem too affected by my teasing him. “Yeah. I guess you caught my guilty pleasure. Could be worse though, huh?”
“Yeah,” I say quietly. I glance at him one more time with a tight smile. “Look it was nice to see you this morning and I appreciate the catch up, but I really do have to get home. I work soon.”
“Yeah. It was nice to see you too Savannah.” He says with annunciation so that I acknowledge that he indeed used my real name. For a fleeting moment his smile fades and he looks at me with what appears to be sincerity, though I’m sure it’s an act. “I’m glad you made it home safely last night. I’ll uh…I’ll see ya around.”
“Sure. See ya.” I half smile and continue down the aisle, turning the corner into the dairy section, telling myself over and over to not look back over my shoulder to see if he’s watching me… because I’m not interested.
He’s no good for me.
Don’t fall into the trap Savannah.
I’m not interested.
I don’t care.
‘Cause I’m not interested.
Chapter 5
Bryant
Oh fuck. I must’ve called her “fat”, and from the way it sounds I did it on more than one occasion. That’s why she finds me repulsive? Because I called her fat when we were in junior high? How do chics remember that shit? Does she not see, quite literally, that people change? I doubt there’s much use in apologizing. I sense a grudge that’s not just going to go away with a “Sorry about what I said, but you look beautiful” almost fifteen years too late. I watch her continue down the aisle and disappear around the corner. I tell myself repeatedly in my head not to go after her. It won’t do any good. This is going to take some time.
All I remember of her is the chunky seventh grader I had swimming class with in middle school. I remember her from some of my elementary school classes but it’s not like we were ever really close. We were as close as kids are at that age I guess for the sheer fact that all the homeroom moms knew each other. Other than that she was a froo-froo girl and I was a boy with cooties. She changed over the summer after eighth grade and many people noticed, but in high school she was the numbers nerd and I just focused on how to score…on and off the field. I was the typical high school boy letting my dick make my decisions for me. Savannah Sanders took my breath away back then but I didn’t stand a chance with her. I wasn’t her type and by all school stereotypes she wasn’t mine. But now? Now, she has eyes that pierce me, hair like the softest chocolate silk and a body any guy would be crazy not to want to lose himself in. God I have my work cut out for me with this girl.
I try not to think about her, but everything about her has me twisted up from the inside out. I shouldn’t get involved with someone who has walls as high as I’m sure she does. She’s not going to open up to me very easily, but damn if I don’t want to try. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize her before she walked into the bar. All I cared about last night was flirting with the ladies in order to make a little more money for the bar. Once I realized who she was I fell for her all over again immediately. Fuck if I didn’t want to embrace her and tell her how sorry I was for everything she’s gone through in the past several years. She’s been like an urban legend around Bardstown. Not many see her around socially.
I have to help Savannah see life outside of the shell I’m sure she’s living in. To show her that there is still life to live, and people to live it with…people who want to see her happy. With any luck Rachel will be on my side and willing to help. If there’s one person in this town that I need with me on this, it’s Rachel. I need to talk to her about it before she blabs to Savannah. She could ruin everything for me.
I drive through town and walk into Rachel’s salon in less than ten minutes.
“Mornin’ Rache.”
I’m greeted with a double eyebrow lift and a doubting look as she organizes her tools and supplies for the day.
“So? You’re not in jail, so I’m guessing you didn’t get arrested last night for stalking, or assault, or grand theft auto.”
“Very funny, and no, none of the above. I returned her car just like I said I would, dropped her keys off in her apartment, and made sure she had water and Advil for this morning. I was the perfect gentleman, thank you very much.
Rachel’s jaw drops. “You went into her apartment? What did she say? Did she throw your ass out?"
I shake my head, shyly smirking. "Uh, not exactly. She was asleep. Didn't even know I was there."
"WHAT?" Rachel’s eyes grow huge. "You were in her apartment while she was there but she didn't KNOW it? Are you fucking nuts? Wait. Don’t answer that,” she says with her hands up in defense. “You are fucking nuts.”
“Yes I suppose I am, but she was taken care of, and that’s all that matters. More than I can say for
you. You just let the poor drunk girl walk home in the middle of the street by herself.”
“Only because I knew you were watching her and keeping her safe.”
“A-ha!” I say with a smile. “So you DO trust me and you DO like me!”
She shakes her head, failing to hide her smile. “I’ll never admit that so don’t brag. But for what it’s worth, thank you for helping her. She needed last night and I’m glad she was able to let her hair down a little.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know. Listen, speaking of Savannah, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“You have my undivided…” She gazes up at the clock on the wall. “At least until Savannah walks through the door in about ten minutes.”
“I want to help her.”
“What do you mean help her?”
“She’s not living her life Rache. She’s hiding in her apartment.”
“You don’t know that. Do you know anything about her?”
“Well for starters she’s never been in my bar before and pretty much everybody in this town has been to my bar. Secondly, you told me she never goes out, and thirdly, I know all I need to know right now.” I know I’m right about Savannah and damnit, I know Rachel knows that I’m right about her too.
She looks at me. “And you think you’re the guy who can bring her out of her shell?”
“You think I’m not? Cause that’s not what you were preachin’ last night.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what are you thinking?”
“Actually, I’m thinking several thoughts. One, you definitely have an uphill battle. She’s not easy to please and the walls she has up may as well be the thickest cement walls you’ve ever seen. She’s like a damn panic room. Two, it’ll be fun watching you try to be a gentleman when I’ve seen you as the bad boy flirt machine in the past, and three, what about…?”
My eyes snap up to hers. “What about what?” Looking at her stern eyes staring me down I know exactly what she’s referring to and I don’t want to go there right now. “It’s not a big deal right now Rachel. I can handle it.”
Rachel pulls scissors out of her apron and lays them on the counter in front of her. She’s quiet for a moment, hopefully contemplating my game plan. She exhales loudly before turning to face me again. I’m staring at her like a puppy hoping for his next treat.
