by Kacey Shea
Wrong. Five minutes later as I walk toward the iron gate that leads to the church’s courtyard, he is still on my heels. Only now he’s whistling and acting as if it’s totally natural for the two of us to stroll together through town.
“So, I have to go in.” I turn with my back to the gate, blocking his entry.
“Okay.” His lips tick up at one corner.
Jesus. Is he gonna make me spell it out. “You can’t follow me.”
His lips pull into a mischievous smile that says otherwise. “Okay.” Maybe he’s gone insane?
“I mean it, Chase. I have a meeting to go to.”
“Right.” He nods, biting back a laugh—I’m almost sure of it. “Me, too.”
“Okay. Wait, what?”
“I’m here for a meeting, too,” he says with all the seriousness in the world.
My stomach drops, dives, then plummets. There’s nothing else going on. Not at this hour. He couldn’t be . . .
“See you inside, princess.” He winks, then strolls around me before slipping inside the gate. “I’ll save you a seat.”
No. Hell, no. There’s no way Chase knew about the meeting, or even planned to attend, right? He’s only calling my bluff. Surely he’s not here for an AA meeting.
But part of me wants to be wrong. Wants Chase to prove me wrong, be the kind of man to deserve my attention. And that’s the most dangerous thought of all. As much as I don’t want to, I still care. I care about a man who destroyed something important to me. A man I could never be with, not in an honest way, and not without betraying the people I loved most. Yet after all this time, and everything we went through, I’m still rooting for this man’s redemption.
14
Alicia
Focus trained straight ahead, I step into the courtyard. I’m not looking for Chase. I’m not. Okay, my efforts are useless. Smiling at the group of smokers, I head into the classroom and hold my breath, expecting to see him there. My heart sinks with unexpected disappointment when he’s not inside. He was bluffing. I should’ve known. I replay our conversation over in my head, feeling duped. I’m mostly pissed he tricked me into believing in him, if only for a second.
Thanks to my run-in with the asshole, I’m earlier than I intend. Back in Richmond that’d be fine, because I’d have a friend to talk to. Here I feel very much like the new girl in class, and it’s unnerving to be the outsider. I take a seat on one of the metal folding chairs and my stomach flips with nerves as I wait for our gathering to start.
The leader and liaison for this chapter mingles by the spread of fresh pastries and coffee. Ricki’s voice is scratchy and low, and she speaks with a take-no-shit attitude I appreciate. Her skin is tanned and wrinkled in the way that comes from spending hours in the sun, a little rough from the life she’s lived. Her hair is a vibrant violet. A few days ago it was lime green. I already love her, but I’m not gonna lie, she also scares me a little.
The coffee bar attracts the social crowd, which is another reason I like to bring my own. It allows me to keep a distance and observe. To put up a wall. Even though I understand that tendency makes me more susceptible to a relapse, it’s my default. Like someone who’s been burned too many times to count, I no longer desire to stand next to a fire.
“All right,” Rikki calls above the conversations. “Let’s get started. Everyone find a seat.”
The smokers trickle in from outside and the chatty group near the coffee maker hustles to get seats together. I’m still an outsider, but a few strangers flash friendly smiles as they take their seats. I remember when I started attending meetings back home, and how terrifying it was to be the newbie. I was new to sobriety. I was unfamiliar with opening up, being vulnerable, and learning how to heal the lifelong scars of my heart. I’m far from a professional at this, but I’ve come a long way. Simply being able to sit here today is a huge step. I’m sure by the end of the summer I’ll find a few friends in the group.
“You mind if I sit?” a woman close to my mom’s age asks, gesturing to the seat to my left.
“Of course.” I flash a smile and shuffle my purse further under my chair, though it’s not necessary.
“I’m Janice,” she says after settling into her seat. She moves her paper coffee cup to her left hand to hold out her right, and offers a warm smile.
“Alicia,” I say, placing my hand in hers. “It’s nice to meet you.”
She opens her mouth as if to say something else but Rikki claps her hands and calls everyone’s attention to the front. Janice smiles and then turns her attention forward.
“Welcome. Welcome. I know we love to visit but that can wait for after. I like to get started on time and before we do, I’d like to go over a few announcements and reminders.”
A knock at the door drags everyone’s attention to the back of the room. The door creaks open on a groan, the metal hinges old and worn, like this building.
I don’t know who I expect to walk in, but it’s not him.
Chase stands in the doorway with his perfect smug grin. “Am I in the right place?”
“That depends. Where are you trying to be?” Rikki says with a splash of attitude. I like her a little more for it.
“The meeting. AA. Sorry, I’m new in town,” he stutters, actually appearing a little uncomfortable. Good.
Rikki’s lips quirk up with the start of a smile. “Then you’re in the right place. We’re just getting started, why don’t you have a seat?”
“Right.” His gaze drifts around the circle of chairs and our eyes meet.
I look away. I don’t want him to see past my mask of indifference. How even though I’m annoyed as hell at his presence, I’m also a little relieved. I’m glad he’s here, and that’s dangerous. Despite our history, my body thrills under the heat of his gaze.
I’ve always gone for the bad boy. But Chase is so much worse than that. If he’s serious about his recovery then he’s a reformed bad boy, and that’s basically my kryptonite. I’m afraid he has the power to waive my resolve. Not that I plan on doing anything with him. We’ve already made enough mistakes together. He’s a distraction I can’t afford. Not now. Not ever.
I lift my gaze back to Rikki, intending to focus on the meeting. From my periphery I notice him make his way toward me. Because there is only one empty chair, and of course it’s at my side. Fuck me. This day is cursed.
Chase situates his body on the chair, the metal groaning under the pressure of his large frame. He’s a big guy, so when he folds his arms across his chest his body brushes against mine. When he stretches out his legs, his thigh rests against my leg.
Why does he have to feel so damn good? The heat from his body touching mine distracts me from the meeting. I hardly pay attention to what’s being said because I’m so focused on pretending to ignore Chase.
I cross my legs and angle my body away from his in an attempt to create space, but there’s not enough room between the chairs. Not unless I plan to sit on Janice’s lap. As much as that sounds like a better alternative, it’s not a viable solution.
It’s not until Janice begins speaking and I anticipate my turn next that I realize there’s another problem with Chase being here. One I hadn’t even considered. Fuck.
Listening to Janice is like a classroom scene from a Charlie Brown cartoon, and like Charlie’s teacher, none of her words are clear. Wah, wah, wah. My pulse races. My breaths come quick. I teeter on the edge of a full-blown anxiety attack.
Pull your shit together. I am not doing this right now. Not with him to witness. I inhale a steady breath, centering myself as I focus on the beat of my pulse until the room quiets. Shit. It’s too quiet. The weight of everyone’s stares fall on me and embarrassment washes over me anew. It’s my turn to speak.
“Hi. My name is Alicia and I’m an alcoholic.” I swallow as nerves prickle my spine and heat fills my face as I’m welcomed. I can do this. It’s fine. What’s the worst that’ll happen?
He’ll expose me for being a fraud. Right. That.
I exhale, then force the next words past my lips. “It’s been one year, nine months, and five days since my last drink.”
I’m met with smiling admiration, all of which I don’t deserve. I don’t need to turn my face to know Chase is staring. Judging, for which he has the total right. He knows something no one else in this room does. He was there the last time I got lost in a bottle.
15
Chase
She’s lying. I took her home the night I found her drunk and alone in a bar, and it sure as shit wasn’t more than a year ago.
I thought the entire point of these meetings was to have a safe space to be honest. Not that I buy into this emotional support group BS. The last thing I need is to sit in a circle, sing “Kumbaya,” whine about my problems, or cry in front of strangers. No fucking thanks.
Regularly attending Alcoholics Anonymous was “recommended” by my case manager back in Richmond. Then again yesterday by the counselor who facilitated the first meeting of my state-mandated recovery program. My court-ordered intervention needs to be completed by the end of the summer, along with my community service hours, but AA is optional.
I never intended to end up in this meeting, but once I realized where Alicia was heading, I decided to follow her in, if only to piss her off. Boy, am I glad I did. Alicia’s the kind of person who always tells the truth, especially when it hurts. Which is why her claiming sobriety for almost a year doesn’t add up.
I stare at her through the rest of the meeting, trying to figure her out. What’s the point of her deception? Is this entire thing a front? Did she pick out that bra knowing how her hard nipples would press against the fabric? Fuck. From our earlier encounter, I doubt she’d be down for a quickie in the bathroom, yet that’s where my daydreams stray while the people in this meeting drone on and on about their troubled lives.
When Cam headed back to Richmond, I expected to spend the rest of my summer amid a sea of strangers. I intended to find a few willing hookups to pass the time, but if Alicia’s here for work, that’s basically fate. Right? Not that she’ll be an easy lay. No, the woman pretty much hates my guts. But the prospect of pursuing her provides the first spark of interest I’ve felt about anything in a long while.
“I want you to know that it’s okay to ask for help,” the older woman—I think her name is Rikki—says from the front of the room, leveling me with a stare. She reminds me of one of the captains from the department. Someone with a low tolerance for bullshit and an inner strength that matches her outside. She’d no doubt toss me from this room if she could read my mind.
“If you get overwhelmed at work, maybe reach out to a co-worker for assistance. If there’s family stress, don’t put off making your next counseling appointment. If you’re about to reach for a drink, call your sponsor. You have friends. You don’t have to do this alone. Asking for help is not a sign of weakness.”
Yeah, okay. I bite back the urge to roll my eyes. This woman obviously never walked a day in my shoes. All my friends have gone radio silent. Not that I blame them. My own family sent me away for the summer so they wouldn’t have to put up with my shit. I’m completely alone. There’s no one I can ask for help.
Unless. An idea strikes and I hold back a grin at the genius of it all. Yes, that’s it. Fuck, maybe this summer won’t be a complete waste.
“Thank you all for being here.” Rikki’s gaze finds mine again. “I hope we see some of you back again real soon.”
Oh, you will. If suffering through these meetings allows me to impress my case manager and gets me one step closer to being back on the county fire department, that’s motivation enough. But if they earn my way into Alicia’s good graces, and more importantly her tight little pants, even better.
People stand and conversations fill the room. My plan is to follow Alicia out of the meeting, if only to annoy her before I check in with my volunteer coordinator in an hour. But the woman at her left monopolizes her attention, so I wander over to the table laid out with cheap coffee.
“First time?” a skinny older gentleman says as I mix a packet of sugar into my cup.
“That obvious?” I flash him a smile, not wanting to be rude.
He chuckles and grabs for a donut. “I haven’t seen you around town.”
I hate that I traded one small town for a much smaller one. I’m not interested in being a part of the local gossip. “I’m here for the summer.”
“I’m Tom.” He holds out his hand and we shake. “Always good to see fresh young faces in the mix. I didn’t get sober until my late 40’s. Wasted a lot of life.”
I’m an imposter, which is nothing new, but the hope in this man’s face fills my gut with a new sense of shame. “I’m not really sure I belong here,” I admit.
“Of course you do.” He clasps me on the shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “We’re all God’s children. Deserving of love. Deserving of life.”
I swallow hard. I’m not sure I believe any of that, either. Glancing over his shoulder, I notice Alicia’s warm smile as she laughs at something the woman next to her says. Does she really buy into all this? There’s something in her demeanor that’s different. She’s bolder, brighter, and there’s an urge inside my soul that’s drawn to her light. Fuck me. That’s stupid. I didn’t even drink the Kool-Aid and look where my thoughts are heading.
I shake off the strange feeling and reach for the truth. It’s not my soul that wants her, it’s my dick. She’s not special, she’s just playing hard-to-get. I’ve always loved a challenge.
16
Alicia
My plan for a quick and painless escape is foiled before I stand from my chair. Janice strikes up a conversation, and as much as I don’t want to stay on this property—or more accurately, endure another conversation with Chase—I can’t find it in myself to be rude to her.
I still feel the heat of Chase’s stare on my face. The shame for lying about the length of my sobriety. The little lie that’s become a habit. I never told anyone about the night of the letter, or getting drunk at the bar. Not even my sponsor. There was only ever one person who witnessed the truth, so it was easy to hide. I glance over my shoulder and find him filling a cup with coffee. Fucking hell, this was supposed to be a fresh start and instead my worlds are colliding in a way I’d rather they not.
“Are you okay?” Janice says, her voice kind and gentle. “Sorry, I know we don’t know each other but you seem upset.” She offers me a smile. “You’re new here, right? That can be really tough.”
I appreciate her concern but it’s misplaced. I’m not uncomfortable with AA meetings. I’m uncomfortable with Chase. “Yeah, I’m here for the summer. I’m interning at the community center. I should actually head over now.”
“Oh! That’s awesome.” Her eyes light up. “My son spends a lot of time there. I don’t like him home alone all day when I’m working. It’s a really great community. He loves it.” Small town living, it’s something I need to get used to. Back in Richmond I never recognized anyone from my AA meetings, but something tells me this experience will be different.
“Cool. I’m excited to get to know the students.” I glance over my shoulder, fiddling with the strap of my bag as I check for Chase. He’s still at the coffee station. I hope Tom wrangles him into a long conversation. I need to escape before Chase corners me. I’ve had more than my daily fill of arrogant assholes, and I’m not looking for a repeat.
“No pressure or anything, but if you ever want to grab coffee or just need to chat?” Janice opens her purse and digs around, producing a business card. “I’m around.”
I take the business card and study it. Janice Miller, Attorney-at-Law. “Thanks.” I offer what I hope is a polite smile, but from the corner of my gaze I notice Chase reach for a donut. Shit. Now’s my chance. I take a few steps away from Janice, tucking the business card into my bag. “I’ve got to head out. Can’t be late.”
“Of course. You have my number. Don’t hesitate to use it.”
�
�Yeah. Thanks.” If she’s hurt by my sudden departure, it doesn’t show. That and I’m too busy power walking out to the street. As soon as I exit the courtyard, I run. I’m not looking to chance fate, or another run-in with Chase. Besides, I’ve got one more important stop to make before work and at this point, I really might be late.
In high school I was popular. In college, even more so. Back then, I could never understand why anyone would be nervous walking into a room of teenagers. Oh, how the tide has turned.
I understand now.
“Hey, everyone,” Laura, the director of the community center, shouts over the cacophony of a half-dozen private conversations, a bouncing ping-pong ball, and music streaming from a portable speaker. No one acknowledges her presence, and the dread in my gut blooms.
I don’t know who’s running the show, but it appears this room has been taken over completely by the teenagers who inhabit it.
“Hey!” she shouts, and this time a few heads turn. She motions to the speaker. “Can someone turn that down?”
One of the girls, maybe sixteen or seventeen, taps on her phone and the entire room blankets in silence.
“Thanks, Bailey.” Laura pauses to clear her throat. “As you all know, Mr. Harrison isn’t coming back to join us this summer.”
“Asshole got fired,” one of the kids mutters under his breath, but everyone hears and a few people chuckle.
My boss clenches her jaw, pushing forward with a tight smile. “This is Alicia Martin. She’s taking over student programming and leadership training for the rest of the summer. She’s going to be your main point of contact and run morning and afternoon meetings. I’d love it if you’d all give her a warm welcome.”
