I've never seen him look like this. I'd seen him around with a lot of women throughout the years, but I had a feeling if only he found the right person, it would end his constant search. Maybe this woman was the real deal. I eyed her inconspicuously as she shot the customer a smile. But there was sadness there, and something else… Like she had dark secrets, the kind that burdened her. A part of me was pleased. She was going to make him work for it. No woman gave him a hard time, not that I blamed them, because of the way he looked. Dark hair, a crooked nose that women seemed to love, and a killer smile.
I pushed my laptop lid down the whole way. This whole writing thing wasn’t going to work in the café. Besides, I was curious about what that was about.
With his broad shoulders slumped, he placed both his elbows on the table, with his forehead resting between both his hands. “She won’t talk to me.”
As if sensing his mood, Peaches went over to sit by his feet.
"Hey there, Peach,” he said, giving her fur a stroke.
"What happened?" I asked, curious. He hadn't mentioned anyone recently. And people loved to gossip, so it was a little surprising.
“Hell, I have no fucking clue,” he growled, his temper barely contained.
“Talk us through what you did," Eva urged.
"I met her last week through a mutual friend. I asked her out yesterday.”
“No," I said dryly, feigning disbelief. "You, the serial dater?"
He scowled. "Why does everybody say that? It's not like those women didn't know what they were in for."
"The problem, Wes, is what would make her think she's different from everyone else?" Sierra said.
He looked thoughtful. "She just is," he said simply, and the admission stunned us all into silence. He let out a deep breath. "I don't know what to do."
It was kind of adorable, the way he panicked over a woman. When he hadn’t so much as batted an eyelash at saying ‘no’ to a woman before.
Then as if something had just occurred to him, slowly, he looked up at all us three. "You're all women."
I was going to hit him. Painfully. Never mind that his bouquet suffered a painful beating already.
"Well. Thanks for noticing," I said, sarcasm heavy.
Sierra plastered a smile. "You're about to get another whack from something a lot harder than a bouquet."
He eyed her fork cautiously, and his seat scraped on the ground as he pushed his seat a little further away. "Fuck. That's not what I meant. Just– maybe you could help explain this stuff."
"Going to need a little more info than stuff," I told him.
He shrugged. “See, I took her out the other day. I don't understand. It started off perfectly fine, and then by the end, she just… shut off.”
"Shut off?” I frowned.
"She wouldn't say more than a few words. More closed-off somehow."
"Did you say something?"
"I told her she was stunning,” he said, thoughtful. “I really liked her dress.”
Sierra drummed her fingers on the table. “Hmm. Where did you take her?”
“Where else? Anton’s.”
I whistled. It was a nice, classy Italian restaurant, where people usually went to make a statement. You didn’t just bring anyone to Anton’s. You had to be serious about them.
“Did anyone speak to her?” Eva asked. I didn’t miss her and Sierra exchanging a glance.
“No. Maybe. I don’t know,” he snapped.
I bit back a laugh. “Calm down, Wes. You can still fix this.”
He narrowed his eyes, his gaze accusing. “You think this is funny?”
“I’ve never seen you like this,” I admitted.
“I’m thinking she’s heard about your charms from other women,” Eva said sympathetically, placing a hand over his shoulder.
Instead of being relieved, he looked horrified. “I can’t change my past. What the fuck do I do? And why did she reject the flowers?”
Sierra shrugged. “Maybe it reminded her of something.”
“Ask her,” I suggested.
He only looked more perplexed. His gaze shifted to the flowers, and a sad look crossed over his face. “Why would she not say if she didn’t like it?”
“Because she probably does. Just bad memories,” I guessed.
Eva concurred.
“She might’ve liked it? Why the hell would she hit me with it?”
I had a feeling this conversation was going to go around in circles.
“Just keep trying. If it affected her enough to act that way, she cares,” I said.
He let out a deep breath. “I’m going to come back later, see if she needs a ride.”
“Good idea,” Eva said brightly. Abruptly, she stood up. “I’m gonna get coffee. Want some?”
* * *
Just as I left Abe’s, hugging my laptop to my chest, it started to rain. Heavily.
Running for cover, I tried to make it to the nearest clothing store. I waited a couple of minutes, and when it became apparent the rain wasn’t letting up, I decided to just make a run for it. I heard a car pull over behind me.
“Hop in. You’re gonna get soaked.” That smooth, commanding voice stopped me in my tracks.
Chase.
I didn’t pause to consider the offer. I didn’t want to risk my laptop getting wet. It was in a thick case, but I worried that it might seep in. It would be foolish to reject the offer and get myself soaking wet for no reason.
“Thank you.”
“Didn’t see the news?”
“No.”
The car ride remained silent.
It’s not that I didn’t want to talk to him, or I was incapable of small talk. But I just didn’t know what to say to him now that it was just us again. I just… My mind blanked whenever he was around. It was something that hadn’t really changed. Only this time, it was more amplified after everything that happened recently.
“You’re fidgeting.”
I stopped picking at my clothes. Even now, he read me so well that it was a little disconcerting. I was perfectly content to look out the window for the duration of the drive when that my stomach decided to rumble.
“You haven’t eaten yet.” He didn’t phrase it like a question.
I continued looking out the window, watching mindlessly as the shops rolled by, under the dark, gloomy weather.
“I’m fine. Oh! This is where they sold the peanut-butter cookies. And the– hey, this isn’t the way home,” I protested when he turned at the wrong corner.
A corner of his lip tugged up. “I’m aware.”
Jesus. He was a hardheaded ass.
I didn’t want to eat something out, I wanted to go home and maybe finish those leftover fish and chips and snuggle under the covers. But no, he decided to drive me to–
“Anton’s?” I blurted out. This went from simple quieting of my stomach’s rumbling to date territory. “How about we order take-out instead,” I chickened out.
He smirked, went out, and opened my door for me. He made a grand gesture out in exaggeration. I rolled my eyes.
* * *
“Relax.” He seemed to enjoy my discomfort. “This isn’t a date.”
Why did he say that? I just managed to get the idea out of my head. We were led to a table at the far end. He sat across from me. A candle was lit in every table, and it created an atmosphere that was intimate.
His thumb traced underneath my eye, and his expression turned dark. “It’s eating at you, isn’t it?”
I turned my face away, suddenly unable to look at him. It was the last thing I expected him to say. He'd noticed. Nobody else did.
“She never stopped talking about you.”
I stopped swirling my water around my glass and finally looked up. Gem. He was talking about her.
“Really?”
I wanted to hear more about her. In a way, it gave me comfort. He understood that, and I appreciated it. Most people didn’t know how to approach me and decided talking about her w
as some kind of taboo subject.
He began talking about her, how she talked about me, how she'd arrange to send something for my birthday, even contemplated coming over.
"How come she never did?" I found myself asking.
"She was dissuaded by people, saying she shouldn't be traveling alone."
I held my fist closed so tightly, my nails dug in. "I should've visited."
He frowned, and poured more wine in his glass. "Don't do that."
"Don't do what?"
He stared at me, and then shook his head. "Never mind."
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
He looked like he mulled over something in his head, then shrugged. “You’re stunning.”
I shook my head, pushing my slice of beef with a fork around the plate.
"You don't take compliments well," he stated.
"People don't mean them. They're flattering, but they're never true."
"Never?" he frowned, taking a sip of wine.
I leaned closer, as if imparting a deep secret. "Never."
I took a sip of my own, meeting his gaze evenly.
"You can't possibly know that."
"I do."
"I see,” he said, his eyes on me, seeing too much. I was afraid that he'd done exactly that– that he saw right through me.
As we ate, I couldn't help but glance his way. I was drawn to him in a way I couldn't explain. I just was. Maybe it was his eyes, heart-meltingly warm when they looked at me with an intensity that told me I was the only thing he saw. Maybe it was the way he talked to me, when he told me I was beautiful, like he'd meant it. Or maybe it was the way he touched me, igniting something in me, a desire I thought I'd long buried.
And that, to me, scared me more than anything.
I wasn’t supposed to feel this way. I was supposed to be unaffected by his presence.
I couldn't even make sense of what we were.
We weren't lovers, but we weren't friends. It was like we were stuck in some limbo, one where we were both uncertain and hesitant to make a move.
It was strange. We'd been through enough to be comfortable and familiar in each other's presence, but it lacked a foundation of trust for it to be solid or real.
We needed to get past it, and I didn't know how. I didn't know if I wanted to or if I was even prepared for it. But at the same time, I wasn’t going to question what we had. I didn’t want to ruin whatever this was, like I’ve ruined everything else.
The festival, this dinner, and then the stuff the other day...
"Chase, what's going on here?" I blurted out.
"We're having dinner."
Which told me everything, and nothing at all. I couldn't read him.
"Yes, but why?"
"Because I wanted to take you somewhere, and the food here is fucking incredible."
I came here assuming we would stay out of each other’s hair, and that I’d get to leave in a few weeks. The last thing I expected was the start of this somewhat complicated non-relationship.
* * *
The tension was just there, bubbling beneath the surface. He didn't like it, I could tell.
As we stood up, ready to leave, he leaned closer.
“Something wrong? You barely ate." His lips brushed against my ear, a hand at the small of my back.
It was crazy what his touch did to me, the mere contact sending a jolt through me, and I was even more aware of his presence, as his body led me through and out to his car.
His concern threw me. He was right. I was so nervous, wondering what we were, that I lost my appetite.
"I'm okay," I said, with a smile that I didn't feel. He didn't look convinced.
As he stopped in front of Haley’s, I quickly opened the door, but to my surprise he moved over and pulled the door shut, trapping me inside.
Then he moved back, and turned to me, leaning in, but I shifted away a little, wary.
“What are you doing?” I asked shakily.
"Okay," he said slowly, as if praying for more patience. "Tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing's wrong," I replied, maybe a little too fast.
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "There's definitely something wrong."
"There's nothing wrong," I replied.
"We could go on all day. Just say it."
When I didn't answer, he pressed, "Dinner not up to your taste? Or is the company lacking?"
Oh my God. Without meaning to, I shot back a little too sharply, "There's nothing wrong with dinner, or you. I just," I dragged a hand through my hair in frustration, "I just don't understand what this is. You're not being fair, Chase. I don't understand what's going on, and every time I even try to think that there might be something going on, it just confuses me... Because it makes me remember everything."
"I see."
But he didn't. I don't think he ever really did back then, when everything ended.
I don't know what I expected him to say, but I saw flicker in his expression, the ghost of the look he had then, and something in me, deathly afraid of loss, rose to the surface.
It was just as if a wall wedged itself between us, even higher and thicker than before.
I did it again. By telling him what I felt, I ruined everything.
* * *
He walked me all the way to the door. We both stopped there, unsure of what to do. I didn’t even bother making a move to open the door.
A lot of things needed to be said. I had no idea where to start.
He spoke first. “I remember every single thing too. Happens everyday, every time I see you."
"Chase–"
The frustration rang through, loud and clear. "We made a deal, Sherr. I thought you understood. Will you honor it at least, for as long as what's left of your stay?"
It felt like a slap.
The truce.
He didn't want to talk about the past. Because it was too painful, because it was done, and because he didn't want us to fight. I didn't mean to either, but he wanted honesty, so I gave it to him. I owed it to him. I saw now that it was a mistake.
I realized he didn't know I was moving back yet.
Since I decided to stay here, that meant… That meant never telling him what I felt. That meant accepting that there would never be an us.
This was the price I had to pay.
It wasn't fair. Why did I have to see him again?
Keeping everything in, not daring to show what it did to me to hear him say those words, I made myself reply, "Okay."
I didn’t look at his face as I went into the house and shut the door. I screwed up badly.
I needed to not talk about the past. I needed to bury it, and leave it as it was. It only dug up the things that shouldn’t have mattered anymore.
I swore to myself that I wouldn’t ever let him get too close.
I made a decision to protect my heart a while ago. I had no reason to stop now.
* * *
I was helping Paula who just got back, arranging some of the things she brought from her trip, when my phone vibrated in my pocket.
When I answered, Haley screeched in my ear, “Anton’s? Really? You didn’t say anything about a date!”
“It wasn’t a date,” I told her. “And hello to you too.”
“But–”
“I was heading home from Abe's. It started to rain, and then he made me think he was going to take me home. Instead, he brought me to Anton’s.”
“Aw, that’s really sweet.” She sighed dreamily.
I will never understand people.
“What happened? How did it go?” she pressed for details.
“It was good,” I began. “…And then it went bad. Anyway, it doesn’t really matter. It wasn’t a date.”
To my surprise, she burst out laughing. “You’re delusional if you think nothing’s going on.”
Oh my God.
“Nothing is going on,” I snapped.
Why does no one want to believe me?
“S
herr, I saw you two on the couch, you all snuggled up next to him, and him with an arm around you, like you belonged there. Try and tell me none of that is real.”
“We were sleeping,” I argued.
With a sigh, she said, “Which tells me a lot more than you think.”
“Nothing’s going on,” I reiterated, a little annoyed now.
“Now I think you’re just trying to convince yourself.”
Her words still rang in my head even long after the call ended.
Chapter Eleven
Backwards
For the third time in the week, the rain came pouring down hard, beating on the windows.
We decided on a horror movie night. What better way to celebrate the dark and gloomy sky and rain?
I was one of the strange people who liked watching horror movies with friends, but never alone. It was thrilling. I liked being scared. Maybe it made me crazy, but it was a whole lot of fun.
Haley parked the car and we headed inside.
Then I stopped short and stood there in shock as she walked past me. I dragged my feet forward, annoyed that I let myself be lulled into a sense of security again.
Quickly, I pulled Haley aside. “I was under the impression we were going to watch a movie.”
“We are watching one,” she said, a smirk on her face. Gah. Friends and their self-proclaimed matchmaking powers.
“I was also under the impression that it was just going to be us.” I gave her a look that made her look only a little ashamed.
My plan was shot to hell. I counted on having a weekend that didn't involve seeing him.
"It's going to be fine," she said, reassuring me.
"I remember the last thing that happened when you told me that," I murmured in her ear.
“This will be different,” she reassured me. Right.
The thing with Haley was I was never really sure what she planned. It was always a bunch of surprises with her, and they didn’t always end well. Once during a science experiment, she made the fire alarm go off, because she decided she would just make up what to do along the way, without reading.
It earned her a detention, but still, nothing had changed her usually easy, unaffected nature. It was an impressive, but kind of annoying trait to have.
Truce or Dare (Sweet Fortuity Book 1) Page 7
