Beneath the Stars

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Beneath the Stars Page 16

by Emily McIntire


  I grasp the edge of the bar to keep myself from reacting.

  “I’m not goin’ ‘til I’m good and… ‘til I’m ready. And I sure as hell ain’t goin’ with you. Johnny!” He slurs across the bar. “How many times do I gotta tell you I don’t need no… damn babysitter.”

  “Daddy, stop it.” Her voice cracks as she reaches out again, and again he smacks her off him. I blow out a breath and stand up. I’ve officially had enough. I’m about to intervene when I glance at Goldi. Her shoulders are tight and her face is stone—mask firmly in place. I’ve seen that mask before. Hell, I’ve worn it. I know the suffocation of trying to breathe underneath.

  Johnny walks up, slinging a towel over his shoulder. “Hey, Lee.”

  She sighs, throwing up a half-hearted wave. “Hi, Johnny. Thanks for callin’.”

  “No problem.” He pauses like he doesn’t want to say what he’s about to. “Listen, Lee… I can’t keep lettin’ this happen. It’s no good for business and to be frank, it’s irresponsible on my part to keep servin’ someone who clearly doesn’t need the drink.”

  “I get it.” She nods. “But, what am I supposed to do?” Her voice is a whisper and her eyes are glassy. I’m sure she’s trying to keep me from hearing. She turns toward her father. “Did you hear that, Daddy? You’ve gone and lost your favorite bar with the way you been actin’.”

  Mr. Carson doesn’t react. He’s gone from mildly coherent to passed out on the bar top. Jesus. Goldi shakes his shoulder and gets nothing more than a grunt. She peeks over, her body rigid, obviously uncomfortable with me witnessing her vulnerability. Doesn’t she know I’m the last person who would judge her for this?

  “Daddy, come on.” She shakes his shoulder again.

  I make a split-second decision and lightly put my hands on her hips, ignoring the way the contact singes my fingertips as I move her to the side. I put her dad’s arm around my shoulder and hoist him up. She protests but I silence her with a look. “I’ve got him, Alina. Please, just let me help.”

  She sucks in a breath, analyzing the way I let her father’s weight rest against my side. She closes her eyes and dips her head. “Yeah, okay. I’m parked right out front.”

  I half-walk, half-carry Mr. Carson outside, and get him settled in before I close the door and turn to face her. She stands behind me, keys in her hand, chin high. Her eyes steeled like she’s preparing for battle. Whether it’s against me or her father, I don’t know.

  “You good?” I ask.

  “Yep.”

  “I’m staying at Sam and Anna’s if you need anything, okay?”

  She runs her fingers through her hair. “Look, we’ve been fine since you’ve been gone. Actually, since before you were gone. You can’t just show back up years later and think I’ll be waitin’ around for you to come save me. I’m not.”

  “I know you’re not.” I shrug. “But I know how hard it can be.” I gesture toward her passed out dad in the car.

  She stiffens. “You don’t know anything.”

  My heart turns to lead, sinking inside me at the strength of her resentment. “Fair enough.”

  I stuff my hands in my pockets and watch as she rounds the car. It’s only when she’s long gone that I finally move back inside.

  A few hours later I’m back home, surfing channels. There’s nothing on, but I settle on Hoarders: Buried Alive. I need something to take my mind off the ache my soul feels knowing Goldi would rather suffer in silence than accept my help.

  I’m about to grab a drink when there’s a knock on the door. I glance up the stairs, hoping the noise doesn’t wake Sam and Anna. Who the fuck would be here this late?

  I’m stunned into silence when I see who it is.

  “Hey.” Goldi looks up at me through her lashes, and I swear my fucking heart skips a beat. She’s so goddamn beautiful.

  “Can we talk?”

  28

  Alina

  My palms won’t stop sweating. I don’t know why I’m here, standing in the middle of Chase’s living room. When I was driving Daddy home, the night kept playing on a loop in my mind. Getting the call from Johnny. The way my chest caved in when I saw Chase. Me, selfishly letting my emotions get in the way of him helping.

  So, here I am. Attempting to swallow down my pride long enough to apologize. Just say what you came here to say. “I was unfair to you earlier tonight.”

  His brows lift, but that’s the only response I get. I grind my teeth as my anxiety rises. The shame over what he saw threatening to drown me. “I should have told you I’m grateful for your help. With Daddy, that is.”

  He’s silent. Still just staring at me from across the room.

  “Say somethin’!” I smack my thighs.

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “I don’t know, call me a bitch or… or tell me it’s okay. That you forgive me.”

  He sighs, wiping his hand across his mouth. “Out of the two of us, Alina, you’re not the one who needs absolution.”

  His words surprise me. They roll around in my head, and I’d like to pretend I feel nothing. But the twinge in my chest lets me know that’s not quite true. Regardless, I’m not here to talk about the sins of our past. “I don’t wanna talk about any of that. I just—I got Daddy home and then I realized I never even thanked you. So, thank you, I guess. You didn’t have to do what you did.”

  I shuffle my feet, my hands going to my back pockets. His eyes are searing, leaving me raw and exposed. It’s uncomfortable. Finally, after a few torturous moments, he breaks his gaze, grabbing his keys off the rack on the wall. “Will you come with me somewhere?”

  “What?” I breathe. I came over here to apologize, not to torment myself by spending hours in his presence. I don’t know if I can be around him and pretend the scars I wear weren’t made by him.

  “Just… come with me somewhere. I’d like to continue our conversation, but I don’t want to wake Sam and Anna. Please.”

  I should leave. I should turn around and march back out that door. I came here to say what I needed to say. The guilt has abated. But instead, I stand here like an idiot.

  Say no. “Okay.”

  A grin overtakes his face and those dang dimples knock the breath from my lungs.

  I follow him outside and down the driveway into his shiny, blacked-out Ford F250. We drive in silence. He seems calm like this whole situation isn’t absolutely insane. We turn into familiar territory and I realize he’s taken us to the lake. He bypasses the lot, driving us right onto the sand, backing up so the bed of his truck faces the water. I’ve never been to the lake in the middle of the night. Why did he bring me here?

  He turns off the engine and hops out. I suppose I should follow him, but I’m twisted around in my seat, looking back and admiring the water. Marveling at the stillness of its inky black surface—wishing I could take some of its serenity for myself. I jump in my seat when the passenger door opens. Chase is standing there, a boyish grin on his face as he holds out his hand. “Not much point of being here if we don’t get out and enjoy the view.”

  I peer down at his outstretched palm. The memory of what I imagined those hands doing makes heat coil low in my gut. Probably shouldn’t touch him. I maneuver around him and slide off the seat onto the ground, taking in my surroundings. It’s deserted. I guess midnight on a Monday isn’t a peak time for lake goers.

  Chase moves and I expect him to start walking toward the water, but instead, he goes around to the back of his truck. He drops the tailgate and hoists himself up, turning to look down at me with his hands on his hips. “Come on, Alina May. Let’s stay awhile.”

  I walk around the side and peer into the bed, watching as he spreads out a large, thick green blanket. Does he just keep that back here? “Do this a lot, do you?”

  “You know the motto. Always be prepared.” He smirks.

  I can’t help the laugh that escapes. “Now I know you’re full of it. You were a lot of things growin’ up, but a Boy Scout? That, you’ve ne
ver been.”

  “Yeah, well there were a lot of things I should have been. Guess I was just a little late in learning the lessons.” He comes to the edge of the truck bed, reaching down to help me up.

  This time, I do take his hand.

  We settle in, lying on the afghan as we stare at the sky. It’s clear tonight. Peaceful. The stars shine down, tormenting me with their sparkle. The space between us is charged like it always is when we’re around each other.

  His voice pierces the silence. “Do you want to talk about it?… Your dad.”

  Yes. “Not really.”

  He nods. “I figured as much. Sometimes talking fucking sucks.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “You know, I used to come out here all the time. Usually after leaving you in the middle of the night.” He glances my way. “I’d lay down just like we are now and think about all the ways I wasn’t good enough. All the ways I had failed the people in my life.” His voice is heavy. “All the ways I was scared of failing you.”

  I close my eyes, willing the burn away. “I thought you said talkin’ sucks.”

  “I did. And it does. But I’ve learned it also helps.”

  “You talkin’?” The corner of my mouth lifts. “I don’t believe it.”

  He chuckles. “Is that really so surprising?”

  “Uhh… yeah. It is, actually.”

  He hums, his hands linking over his stomach. “Yeah, I guess it would be.”

  “He wasn’t always this bad, you know?” I blurt.

  Chase’s head turns toward me, his hazel eyes piercing. “Your dad?”

  I nod, sucking my teeth. “Yeah. At first, it was just a way for him to cope. Losin’ Mama was hard on him, you know? He hasn’t been able to learn how to live without her. By the time I realized it was out of control, he was already gone. Lost at the bottom of a bottle.”

  Chase doesn’t say anything, and I’m grateful for it. I don’t need someone telling me how to feel or trying to justify Daddy’s actions. But it’s cathartic, speaking my truths out loud.

  “Stupid me, huh?” I huff out a laugh. “I just thought…” I shake my head, not able to speak around the lump in my throat.

  “You thought you’d be enough?” he whispers.

  “Yeah.” My voice cracks, a tear slipping down the side of my face. “I thought I’d be enough.”

  He reaches over, hesitating before he links our hands. Warmth spreads through me, comforting all of my broken pieces. And at least for tonight, that’s enough.

  29

  Chase

  Today, I woke up feeling hopeful. It’s not an emotion I’m used to having, but it’s there, so I’m holding on tight. If someone had told me a few months back I’d have Goldi in my life again, I would have laughed in disbelief, and tried to ignore the throb in my chest hearing her name caused. But now I’m here, and so is she. And while I don’t have any grandiose ideas about where our relationship can go, I can’t help but feel like maybe there’s a reason beyond Sam’s retirement that I’m back.

  I’m a little surprised Sam hasn’t told me about Mr. Carson’s drinking. It makes me wonder if he knows—if anyone around here really knows, or if Goldi has been carrying the weight of her father’s problems all on her own.

  This is what was on my mind when I went to sleep. This is what’s still on my mind as I walk into work. It’s our first official day back on the Tiny Dancers project. Demo day. I love demo days. And I’m fucking giddy knowing I’ll see Goldi again. Life is brighter with her in it. Colors more vibrant, birds fucking sing and all that shit. I had forgotten what it was like to live a technicolor life.

  I stopped by the coffee shop and picked up some caffeine for the crew. Impulsively, I got some for Goldi, too. I walk to the back office with her coffee in hand. The office door is propped, so I nudge it open and peer inside. Goldi’s standing in the far corner, bent over what looks like a laptop bag, digging around for something in one of the pockets. My eyes become greedy as they take in the round of her hips and the curve of her ass in that spectacularly tight skirt she’s wearing. I know I should look away, but damn. I don’t think I can. I start to grow hard, which is a problem since I don’t have a free hand to adjust myself.

  I try to think of anything other than how fucking edible she is. The inside of my cheek stings from where I’m biting it, but I need the pain to keep myself from going over and demanding she sit on my face. I shift on my feet, clearing my throat to get her attention.

  She stands straight and looks over her shoulder. “Oh! Chase, hi.” She gives a hint of a smile and brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Hey, Go-Alina. I heard a rumor you were up late last night. Thought you might need some coffee.” I wink, then mentally bitch-slap myself for doing it. A wink, you fucking douchebag?

  She looks down for a second, running the palms of her hands over her outfit, straightening the wrinkles. It’s an innocent gesture, but fuck if it doesn’t make me think of how I’d like to glide my hands all over her body.

  “Oh… um, yeah. Thanks.” She walks over and takes the coffee. Our fingertips brush. The contact lasts for less than a second, but a jolt shoots through me, catapulting my heart into my throat. She backs away quickly, taking the coffee with her as she rounds the desk and sits. I lean back against the opposite wall, taking sips from my cup as I watch her. She’s stacking piles of paper and moving around folders, fingers fumbling.

  She pauses, her head snapping up. “Do you need somethin’ else?”

  My gut tenses as I feel the shift in her demeanor. “Is this how it’s gonna be, Alina? Hot and cold all the time?”

  She looks to the ceiling before heaving a sigh. “Listen. I don’t—I don’t know what you’re expectin’ from me. But I can’t do this.” She points back and forth between us.

  My chest pinches. The lightness I felt this morning disappearing with the weight of her words. “What do you mean by this?”

  “This! Us! You can’t just bring me coffee, and—and be all sweet and charmin’. That’s not you. That’s not the Chase I remember.”

  “People can change, Alina. Maybe you should get to know the new me.”

  “I don’t wanna get to know you. Last night was a mistake. I should never have gone with you.” She shakes her head.

  Fuck, that hurts.

  The balloon of hope that was floating around inside me pops, and I crash back down to earth.

  My soul is raging against her words, beating against my insides and trying to tear out of my skin to get to her. To remind her. I grip my hair, the sting of the roots keeping me grounded. “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  My hand drops to my side and I swallow down my want—my fucking need—to beg for her forgiveness. To let me atone for my mistakes. “Okay. I get it. I do. I thought maybe we could move forward. Be friends. Fuck, you have no idea how badly I want us to be there. But if you need me to stay away, I’ll do that. I’ll keep my distance... but can you do me a favor?” I walk over, ripping a corner off a piece of paper, and grab a pen from the cup holder. I write down my number and slide it to her.

  She picks it up. “What’s this?”

  “That’s my number. Put it in your purse, or better yet, program it in your phone. Just… I want you to have it. In case you need it.”

  She juts out her chin. “I won’t.”

  “And that’s fine. But if you change your mind, I’m here.”

  She sneers. “I’ve heard that before.”

  Fire sparks in my veins. The need for her to see me for who I am now making my tongue sharp. “You heard that from a dumbass kid who took for granted everything that mattered. A kid who didn’t know how to hold on to the best fucking thing in his life.” I lean forward, my knuckles pressing down on the desk, my eyes begging her to see the truth in my words. “Believe me when I tell you, that kid is gone.”

  She sucks in a breath, her baby-blue gaze searching.

  I point to the piece of paper
in her fist. “Keep it. Just in case.”

  I spin, walking out the door, blood pumping in my ears, and my heart beating with fervor.

  It’s not until the end of the day when I feel her eyes on me again. I’m a sweaty mess. All the other guys have left, but I stuck around, taking my frustration from our earlier conversation out on the walls. Who needs Doc when you’ve got a sledgehammer?

  I drop the hammer to the ground, my torso twisting as I look at her.

  She’s in the middle of the room, gawking at the destruction. I smile at her. “Not what you expected?”

  She looks around the room. “No. Not really. It’s a mess in here.” She narrows her eyes. “This is what we’re payin’ y’all to do?”

  I chuckle as I take off my eyewear, setting it on my head. I lift my shirt to wipe the sweat from my brow. Her eyes sear into me, mouth parting as she stares at my stomach, watching as the fabric falls back down. Fuck, I love the burn of her gaze. “Do you wanna try?”

  Her mouth snaps shut, her eyes widening. “What? No, I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’ve never even held one of those things before. Daddy never let me near ‘em when I was a kid.” She points to the sledgehammer on the ground. “I wouldn’t know what to do.”

  “Not much to it.” I shrug. “Come here, I’ll show you.”

  She backs up. “I’m really okay.”

  “It will make you feel better.”

  “Who says I don’t feel good?”

  My brows lift as I cock my head, staring at her.

  “Ugh, fine. Just hand me the stupid thing.” She marches past me to pick it up, and I grab her around the waist without thinking. She freezes, her breaths heavy. I know I should let go, but she feels so fucking good. I lean in, my lips brushing her ear. “Not so fast.”

  I grab the eyewear on my head, using my arm around her waist to spin her until she’s facing me. We’re close. Our energy weaves together, buzzing between us, attracting like magnets. I try to ignore the way my heart thumps in my chest as I slip the goggles over her eyes.

 

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