Ryan takes the envelope and sets it down next to him. “Absolutely.”
“Are you okay to finish by yourself.”
Ryan is now knee deep in counting the change in the drawer, so he just nods and waves me off.
The Whiffs and Sniffs fragrance shop is located on the opposite end of the mall in the west wing while the coffee shop is located in the central corridor. I'm actually kind of glad that Ryan asked me close because fighting my way through a mass of people to get to the store would have been annoying. I window shop on the way down the west wing corridor admiring some cute tops hanging in a few of the expensive storefronts. I work really hard for the money I make so from time to time I allow myself a few indulgences. When my Grams died she left me her condo, which sold for a decent amount of money, but after my attack, the hospital bills ate up most of that.
When I finally reach the Whiffs and Sniffs the chain curtain is already pulled down and the lights are turned off. Where the hell is Lara? Reaching for my cell, soft laughter wafts over to me and buzzes in my ears. I turn around and Lara is standing with a group of guys from the sporting goods store. I quickly shuffle over to them, and grab Lara's elbow. “You ready to...” I stop mid-sentence when I notice the blue-green eyes regarding me in unreadable way. Sean Reilly. My stomach bottoms out and I can't find my voice. I should have thought of this scenario earlier when Ryan mentioned an autograph signing and meet and greet. Shit. I will myself to breathe, but my lungs aren't cooperating. I'm all swept up in his intense gaze, muscular and tattooed biceps, stunning eyes, and enigmatic presence.
Breathe, Hadlee. I just need to breathe.
Lara finally acknowledges me. “Oh hey!” She nudges my shoulder. “How was the world of Arabica beans?”
I exhale. “Tiring.” Sean is looking at me. I can feel his eyes as they slice through my skin and it makes me nervous. “You ready to go?” I don't make eye contact with anyone else and give Lara a pleading look.
“Well, Lee,” she says with a shrug. “The guys invited us out for a drink. Do you care if we go for a little while?”
I lean in close to her ear. “Can't you just drop me off at home first,” I whisper.
“They are leaving straight from here. JP and Ted said we could ride over with them.” She points to two guys one with blonde hair and brown eyes and the other has light brown hair and green eyes. Both guys nod in my direction and I nod back.
“You know the whole bar scene isn't my thing,” I tell her.
Lara holds up a finger to the group. “One sec, guys.” Then she grabs me by the elbow and yanks me to the side. “Come on, Lee. It could be fun. I know you have a hard time being out at night, but we'll be out with four guys.”
I glance over my shoulder and eye the three guys in red shirts with name tags. “There's only three guys.”
Lara quirks a vibrant grin and gasps, “Sean's going too.”
Oh no. These plans couldn't be anymore disastrous. Not only do I feel like a mess whenever I'm around Sean because I swear he's beautiful and too captivating for his own good, but I don't feel like receiving hateful glares all night long. “I don't think its a good idea for me to go if he's going.”
“What?” Lara laughs. “Why would you say that?”
“Because he hates me.”
Lara loses it over that. She laughs and shakes her head. “What makes you think that?”
I peek over my shoulder and meet Sean's gaze. He slits his eyes, tilts his head to the side, and scans me slowly. It kills me because every time I see him there is something so vaguely familiar about him. And it kills me even more because I can't figure out what it is. I keep my eyes on him and I think I notice a phantom-like smile cross his lips. I think. “Just look at him. He's got anger problems. He's always scowling at me.”
Lara slaps my shoulder playfully. “All I see is a hot guy who just has a little bit of hard edge to his persona. Just relax, Hun. We'll only go for an hour okay. And we won't ride with the guys okay? I'll drive us over there.”
“Okay,” I agree, knowing that she won't relent on wanting to go until I do.
That's one quality Lara has that irks me. She always has to get her own way. But I told myself along time ago that if she only has one bad quality hidden amongst the many good ones then it was something I'd just have to deal with.
The bar the guys chose is called Wing Palace, a small family owned restaurant that has an eating area in the front and a bar in the back. The group of us enter, the song Layla blasts from the speakers. It's not dead, and not too busy either. A few clusters of people are positioned around the bar chatting with one another as the guys lead us to a booth in the corner with red plastic covering. Giant flat screen televisions hang on every wall and the lighting is dim. I like the atmosphere. In a way it's sort of calming—soothing.
Ted, the guy Lara is always talking about, points between Lara and I. He smiles and I take notice in how perfectly straight and white his teeth are. Also the fact that he has dimples in his cheeks. “What do you guys want to drink?” Then I observe the heated look in his green eyes as Lara gives him her drink order and it's totally obvious that he likes her. He turns his gaze on me. “What about you, Hadlee?”
I mull over my options. Hmm. Wine, beer, or some kind of fruity mixed drink. “I'll have a beer,” I tell him. I'm not a big drinker, but I do occasionally enjoy an ice cold beer or glass of dessert wine. But something tells me this isn't the kind of place that keeps Moscato stocked by the crates.
Ted walks over to the bar and orders our drinks, when he returns he slides my beer in front of me. I try to pay him, but he politely refuses, so I thank him and tell him the next round is on me. Lara and Ted immediately engage is some deep discussion and I settle into the crook in my corner of the booth, and focus on one of the flat screens. Then my attention shifts to the right portion of the bar. The two other guys that work with Ted are leaning against the smooth finish of the bar, and the hanging lights above it casts flickers of yellow against the shiny surface. Both guys who work with Ted are chatting up some scantily dressed coeds that I know I've seen around campus before. I go to a very small college, it's a lot like high school really. There's only 1500 kids total on campus. It’s like that because it’s so expensive and very few people are able to get a scholarship. I was lucky enough to be one of the few.
My eyes travel down the bar and I see Sean on the opposite end. For once he's not giving me an icy glare and for that I'm thankful. Now I have the opportunity to admire him from where I'm sitting. I have the opportunity to observe him. To see if he really is all hateful glares and harsh words. He's not drinking alcohol, he's drinking water and chatting with the bartender, who is a large man with a few tattoo's on his arms, rings on all of his fingers, and a medium length salt and pepper beard. The bartender is wearing black everything. Black jeans. Black shirt. Even a black bandana that covers what I assume to be a bald spot on the top of his head. The bartender says something to Sean and his whole face lights up. He's beaming and laughing and seeing him like this brings a smile to my face. He laughs harder and the boisterous sounds trails over to the booth and throbs in my ears. Suddenly I'm saddened by seeing this other side of him. I'm actually depressed over it. Why can't he be this way whenever he's talking to me? Why doesn't he ever show me his radiant smile? Why isn't he ever nice? What in the hell did I do to him in the three times I've seen him?
Red flushes my cheeks when I think about how much I'd like to have him look at me and regard me in such a kind way. Tiny tingles circulate through my stomach when I think of Sean's voice. I envision his lips against my ear, his words filling up every part of me and his voice embedding itself in my mind. He laughs again and my head snaps in his direction, but my heart sinks when I look at him because now he's flirting with two of the college girls that were in the group Ted's co-workers were talking to.
Looking away, I swallow the thick lump in my throat and Lara elbows me in the shoulder, wearing a cheesy grin. “See, it’s nice to ge
t out every now and then isn't it?”
“It is,” I agree with a miniscule smile. However, I'm convinced I'd be having a much better time if Sean wasn't sitting across from me reminding me that I want him, but can't have him. “I think Ted has a thing for you,” I tell her. “He's been awfully attentive.” I lift both of my eyebrows in a joking manner.
Lara and I both glance in Ted's direction. He's joined his co-workers and they appear to be having a heated discussion about the on-going basketball game on one of the flat screen's. Ted keeps pointing at the television screen with a frustrated look on his face. One of his friends makes a comment and he throws his hands up in the air, turns away, then turns back.
“You think so?” She says with a bit of sarcasm while holding back a giggle.
I purse my lips and try not to giggle in return. “Sounds to me that you might have a thing for him too.”
In mock bafflement, Lara's mouth drops open, a smile tugging on her lips. “Is that right?”
Lara is really secretive about her feelings. It’s not that she doesn't trust me, I know she does. She explained to me once why she's tight-lipped when it comes to the way she feels.
I don't like to psych myself out for something I know might not happen, she’d said. I don't like to get all gushy like he's so amazing when I don't know where the relationship is going because then that's just like asking to have your heartbroken. You understand what I mean?
I do understand what she meant. She's not the type to put herself all out there when she isn't sure of what she'll get in return. What if he just wants a piece of ass? What if he's just tesing the waters? But at least she puts herself out there. Unlike me.
Even before my attack, I'd always been shy, introverted. It's not that I didn't try to be an extrovert, believe me, I tried. Once when I was a freshman, I tried to flirt with Ben King, a junior I was crushing on who was in my advanced biology class. Only that didn't work out so well. I began the conversation batting my eyelashes and asked him 'which animal he preferred dissecting'. That earned me a disgusted look and from that moment on Ben sat on the opposite side of the room, as far away from me as he could.
I'm not a freak, I just don't know how to act, flirt, or talk to guys. I've been in the 'friend zone' with most of the guys I know because of that. Except for Ryan. He's the only guy who has ever given me that kind of attention. And I don't want his attention.
Lara cuts into my morbid flashback when she asks, “So what do you think of his friends?” She contorts her body so she's facing me. “Any of them catch your eye?”
I glance in the direction of the group of guys. “Not really.” I glimpse at Sean casually, trying not to be too obvious. He's not paying attention, wearing a cocky smirk, dimples present on his cheeks as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind blondie number two's ear.
Lara doesn't miss a thing. “Oh no,” she chuckles. “My little friend has set her sights higher than guys who work at a sporting goods store.”
“Stop it.” I wave her off and tear my eyes away from Sean. “So I think he's attractive. That's all it is. That's all it will ever be.” He's made it clear on more than one occasion that that's all I'll ever be to him. Some girl who admires him from afar. “He wants nothing to do with me.”
Lara narrows her eyes and bites her bottom lip. “Really?”
Oh no. I know that look on her face. She's wearing her I have a plan look. A devilish glint shines in her blue eyes and I know she's about to try pull something off. She glances over her shoulder briefly at Sean then back at me. “Those skanks don't have shit on you,” she comments and rises from the booth.
“Lara, don't!” I snap and latch onto her elbow. But she doesn't listen, she yanks her arm away and slinks over to Sean and the two girls. Panic blossoms inside of me, starting at my chest cavity before working its way throughout my entire body. I have to get out of here. Stealing a glance at Lara, she's pointing in my direction and Sean observes me with a nod.
Oh. My. God.
What is she saying? I really need to get out of here.
In a flash, I bolt from the booth, making my way to the exit. I stop in the small square area between the entrance and exit. With my back to the wall, I slide down, hugging my knees to my chest. The door leading to the parking lot is like a cement barrier, a blockade, a force-field. As much as I tell myself I need to leave, I can't bring myself to walk out the door. My chest heaves. I clasp my trembling fingers. My heart is on speed, thumping a million miles a minute.
My head drops down and I bury it in my hands. The fluorescent lights in the parking lot bleed in through the glass and lifting my head, I stare at the tiny dots of white on the tips of my black shoes. A vision flashes in my mind and I see them—the hands. My attacker's hands. They're needy, out-stretched. They are reaching for me. Now I'm starting to lose it again and I realize I've overstayed my welcome at the bar. I need to get Lara and tell her I want to leave.
It bothers me that I'm going to ruin her night, but I know I'm seconds away from falling apart and I need to go home before the fear and panic eats me alive. Pushing to my feet, I spin around, pulling the entrance door to the bar open, and ram into something upon entering. “Fuck.” My organs are like walls smashed by a wrecking ball. I'm being demolished. Pieces of me break off and crumble, slamming into the ground and I can't handle being shattered. I start shaking and stutter out, “I'm...I'm...”
“Shh.” I look up and Sean has his hands on my shoulders. His voice is calming and deep yet soft. “Easy.” His depths of blue-green burn into my eyes and they are full of intensity. He drops his hands from my shoulders. “Are you okay?”
I swallow and nod, keeping my eyes locked with his. It amazes me that he isn't looking at me with disdain or looking at me like I've lost my mind. Even though I'm pretty sure I dropped it on the ground somewhere in this tuna-can of a room.
“Lara said you needed a ride home,” he says slowly, lingering on each word.
“I'm having a panic attack. I'm not mentally challenged,” I snap, irritated that he was speaking to me like I’m stupid or something.
“Whatever.” His gaze darkens. There's grit in his voice. It looks like I've pissed him off. Yay me. He rolls his eyes “Do you need a ride or not?”
“Yes,” I croak, trying to find my voice. I need to go home, but do I want him to be the one to take me? “Why can't Lara take me?”
“I guess she wants to stay a while longer,” he comments.
I pull back the door and I see Lara talking and laughing with, Ted. She looks so happy and carefree. I don't want to bother her. I want her to enjoy herself. Closing the door, I chew on my lip and play with my fingers. My nerves are crackling inside of me. “If you don't mind then, yes, I'd really appreciate a ride.”
“Fine.” He pushes on the exit door with force and storms into the parking lot.
I follow, staying close behind him. I admire the swagger in the way he walks. He's confident, but not overly proud, with his broad muscular shoulders pulled back and long strides. He's tall too, but not too tall, probably around 6'1. That's almost a foot taller than my height of 5'3. My eyes trail down his arms. His hands are clenched in fists, and I marvel at the sight of his tattoos, and the way they wrap around his bulging biceps. I lift my eyes higher, taking in the sight of the way his chestnut hair that is styled in a messy way. Then I notice the diamond studs in his ears. I never knew his ears were pierced. Then again the last couple times I saw him I wasn't focused on his ears.
Reaching into his pocket, Sean yanks out a set of keys and hits a button. The lights on a brand new looking, black Lincoln Navigator with a chrome gleaming grille flash twice. Sean continues walking to the drivers' side without acknowledging me. I mean I didn't expect him to be a hold a door open for a girl kind of guy, but still. He could have at least said something like hop in or this is me.
I climb into the passenger seat, close the door, and fasten my seat belt as Sean starts the car. Dear God by Avenged Sevenfold blasts through
the speakers and nearly blows my eardrums out. I love the song, but I prefer to listen to it a reasonable volume. Instinctively, my hands cover my ears and without a word, Sean turns down the volume. The rasp in the lead singer's voice fills my ears at comfortable level and I let the words infect me as I turn toward the window.
An enticing aroma swirls around the car and I inhale deeply. It's a musky, roguish scent. Like a mixture of fresh rain and cedar. I swallow hard and I can feel my heart in my throat. I hope this entire ride isn’t full of this awkward silence. I glimpse in his direction and his seat is tilted back, he has one hand on the steering wheel, and the other arm is nestled in the crook of the window. The song on the radio changes and The Time of the Season by The Zombies comes on. Another fantastic song. My eyes flit to his free hand, the one he's not steering with, and I watch as he taps his knuckle against the window along with the beat of the song.
“So,” I say softly. “Thank you for the ride.” I'm desperate to relieve the tension between us. It's making the ride insufferable. Especially because I keep wanting him to at least talk to me, and he hasn't even tried to say anything.
“No problem,” he answers shortly.
Great. Two word answers. This is going to be an epic ride. “I really do appreciate it.”
“Sure.”
Now, one word answers.
Even better.
He keeps his eyes straight ahead, staring out the windshield, an unreadable look on his face. I wish I knew what he was thinking or how to read him. Earlier, when I stumbled into him at the bar, I thought there was warmth in his voice when he caught me by the shoulders. No, I know there was definitely warmth there. Maybe even a hint of concern. Now he's acting like I have the plague and that if he speaks one word to me he'll catch it.
What perplexes me more than anything is that he came deadly close to touching my neck. Normally I freak out at that point. But I didn’t. Then again he didn’t actually touch my neck.
We merge onto the highway and Sean finally decides to speak. “You have to tell me what exit to get off at.” His voice is flat.
12 Rounds Page 9
