Into The Light (Three Rivers #1)

Chapter 3

Three

BEAR

N erves jangle through me, which freaks me out; I don't get nervous. All the gnarly shit I've been through? Nothing fazes me.

Walking into this bar?

Very much fazed.

Why am I here? What do I think is going to happen? Noelle, a gorgeous, sweet, friendly, normal, well-adjusted girl, is going to…what? Fall in love with my big, surly, fucked-up self? Not fucking likely.

I rub my sweaty palms on my jeans, staring at the door of The Cellar. An historic establishment in Three Rivers, The Cellar occupies the main floor of the former Opera House, a red brick building with elaborate stained glass windows and an arched front door. A large white keystone block features the date the building was dedicated: 1832.

Within, I can hear the buzz and hum of conversation, a faint thud of music, the blare of TVs. Cars rush behind me in both directions on the other side of the full parking lot. As I stand near the doorway, debating simply walking back home, a gaggle of twenty-something women click on heels and boots toward me from the parking lot, clustered together and giggling. I feel their eyes on me, and the whispers and giggles feel like needles in my skin.

I shuffle away from the door so I don't crowd them as they enter. “ ’Scuse me."

One of the girls, her hair elaborately curled and pinned, makeup caked on, lips bright red, skirt barely covering her ass, fake tits pushed up to her chin, winks at me. "I'd climb that tree,” she stage-whispers to her friend as they scuttle past me through the door.

"Holly!" Her friend shrieks, and then simpers at me. "Sorry, my friend is a slut."

Any possible response is dried up, leaving my tongue fused to the roof of my mouth. I just stare at them, brow furrowed, molars grinding in furious embarrassment.

With another flurry of whispers and giggles, the girls enter the bar and vanish into the crowd.

"Fuck this," I mutter to myself.

I turn and head back in the direction of Tompkins Road, toward home. I make it approximately six steps when I hear the door open behind me, emitting the noise of the bar's interior. Feet slap pavement, and then Noelle is beside me, grabbing my arm.

"Hey, Bear, I thought I saw you out here." Her voice is at once soft and bright, friendly and musical.

"Uh, yeah." I sigh, annoyed at myself.

Brilliant response, loser.

She pivots to stand in front of me as if she could pose an obstacle to my forward progress; yet, I find myself stopping.

Looking down at her, mesmerized by her vivid green eyes, obsessed with an adorable spray of freckles dotting her creamy skin on her cheekbones and nose, my breath comes short, and my skin feels too tight around my bones.

"You weren't planning on ghosting me, were you?” She smiles up at me, the glint in her eyes turning her words into a tease.

"Uhhh…" I roll a shoulder. "Not ghosting. Just…"

"Not good with crowds?" She guesses, her gaze going soft, the smile still curving her plump pink lips.

God, she's beautiful. Her hair is copper and gold, whereas mine is rust and old blood. The aforementioned brilliant green eyes and milky skin. And her body—fuck. I force myself to hold her eyes instead of ogling her tits.

She's dressed in khaki shorts that cling to her thick, soft, muscular thighs and generous, heart-shaped ass; her shirt is a sapphire V-neck with sleeves so short it's almost a tank top but not quite. The hem doesn’t quite meet the waist of her shorts, occasionally offering a glimpse of her belly. Her cleavage is generous enough to draw my gaze as if by fishhook and line, yet in no way excessive or showy.

"No," I murmur, eventually. "Not good with crowds."

She grabs my hand and pulls me back toward The Cellar. "Well, you can't chicken out now, buddy boy. I've already saved you a seat in the corner. C'mon!"

Maybe it's the way she so fearlessly grabs my giant paw and tugs at me, maybe it's the challenge in her words, but I allow her to pull me to the door. I grab the elaborate twist of wrought iron that is the door handle and open the door for her. She keeps hold of my hand, tugging me into the darkened interior; being late spring, the sun is still setting at seven, sending lances of sunlight through the stained glass windows. The Cellar is packed, and people jostle me and bump into me and bounce off me as Noelle tries to weave a path through the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd by the bar.

I edge in front of her to take the lead, using my sheer bulk and intimidating presence to forge a path; as usual, the crowd parts for me.

Noelle giggles. "Well, that's a handy trick." She leans against my back, soft breasts pressing into me; she points at a table in the far back corner. "That's us, there."

I angle for the table, mouth dry at the innocent contact, heart hammering.

Don't read anything into it, I tell myself. She's just being nice. It means nothing. How could it?

There are five people at the table, three women and two men. All five sets of eyes widen comically as I approach with Noelle clinging to my arm as if we’re walking the red carpet together.

I remind myself that the only reason she's holding onto me like this is so she doesn’t get sucked away by the crowd. Best not to let silly things like hope and attraction run away with me. Stay focused on reality. Gorgeous girls like her don't go for grumpy beasts like me.

Even when we reach the table, however, she doesn't let go. She glances up at me, her smile bright and eager and intoxicating. "Bear, these are my friends." She points to each person in turn. "Kyle, Ashlynn, Raina, Thomas, and Colin."

Kyle is in her thirties, with long, loose, wavy dark brown hair and light brown eyes, dressed in a tight, revealing little red dress. Ashlynn is around the same age, with artificially silver hair cropped short and styled in an artfully messy mop, hazel eyes, wearing a thin, clingy forest green shorts-jumpsuit thing, her earlobes rimmed with innumerable silver hoops. Raina has thick black hair in a loose braid down her back, dark eyes, and skin that hints at Middle Eastern heritage of some sort, wearing a pale purple sweater and dark wash blue jeans. Thomas and Colin are a gay couple; Thomas is slender and effeminate, with voluminous blond hair in a swept-back pompadour, dressed in a bubblegum pink velour tracksuit; Colin is dark-haired and more conservative, clean-cut, and wearing pressed khakis and a white button down. They sit close, hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder, Thomas's hand tucked around Colin's arm, much like Noelle's is around mine.

"We've been best friends since elementary school," Noelle says to me, guiding me to a spot on the bench side of the booth, at the very end so I have plenty of space for my bulk and my long legs. "We all went to cosmetology school together."

I sweep the group with my eyes, nodding once. "Nice to meet you guys."

"Lovely to meet you," Thomas says, in an arch, crisp voice, his eyes twinkling as if he has some inside joke he's not sharing. "So, No-No, darling. Where did you meet this stunning specimen of a man?"

I can't tell if he's mocking me or not.

Noelle sits in a chair close to me, her legs perpendicular to mine. "At the animal rescue. I found a stray and brought her in, and Bear here was signing up to volunteer."

"Welcome to the fam, Mr. Bear," Thomas says.

I shoot a look at Noelle, who is spluttering in laughter. "Just Bear."

"I didn't say anything, I swear," she says. “That was all him."

Thomas frowns. "Did I miss something?”

I'm saved from having to explain as a waitress comes by to take our orders. Kyle orders a spicy margarita, Ashlynn gets a Cosmo, Raina a Diet Coke, Thomas a club soda with lime, Colin a Manhattan, and Noelle a glass of white wine. I get a glass of ice water. After drinks are ordered, Raina asks for an order of chips and guac and a side of soft pretzels.

This group has clearly known each other their whole lives. They shift from topic to topic rapidly, and sometimes several conversations are happening all at once. I mainly follow Noelle’s side of the conversation—she moves seamlessly from a conversation about haircutting with Ashlynn to a discussion about dog breeds with Colin to a series of increasingly corny and lewd jokes and references with Kyle. Yet somehow, I don’t feel left out, even if I have nothing to add. She glances at me every so often, smiling, laughing, nudging my thigh with her knee—reminders of her presence, indications that she's not forgotten about me.

I don't know what to make of it.

I like it, though.

Drinks come, and the appetizers not long after. Since I only got a glass of ice water, I don’t assume I'm invited to eat anything.

Noelle, after a few minutes, leans toward me. "Not hungry?"

I shrug. "Not my food."

She rolls her eyes, snagging a soft pretzel rod, and touches it to my lips. "Don't be silly."

I take the snack and munch on it. "Thank you," I say, after chewing and swallowing.

She pats my knee. "You're funny."

I frown, unsure what I did that was funny. “Okay."

For some reason, this makes her laugh even more.

After that, she seems to think it's her job to feed me. She scoops guac onto a chip and shoves it into my mouth every so often, much to the amusement of her friends. I don't get the sense of being mocked, though. More like they just don't know what to make of me, or more likely, what Noelle was thinking when she brought me along.

After a good thirty minutes of chatting and snacking, I've had three glasses of ice water, necessitating a trip to the restroom. I take care of business, wash my hands, and push through the crowd back to the table.

A pair of young men have crowded into the space where I was sitting, ignoring Thomas and Colin as if they didn’t exist, clearly harassing the women. Raina looks uncomfortable, Ashlynn looks ready to throw silverware at them, Kyle is trying to slink under the table, and Noelle is scanning the crowd, looking for me.

I let my feet fall heavily on the creaky hardwood floors behind the two little douchebags. I cross my arms over my chest and wait.

One of them, dressed in expensive jeans and a pale blue polo with the collar popped, reeking of expensive cologne and entitlement, shoots a glance over his shoulder without seeing me. "Go away, dude. I'm talking to these lovely ladies.”

I let out an irritated sigh that's part growl.

This gets his attention. He straightens, turns, and looks up at me. Pales.

I lean down and put my face closer to his. "Fuck— off ."

The twinkie little douchebag grabs his buddy and drags him backward away from the table and into the crowd without a word.

Noelle sighs in relief, and so does everyone else. “Thanks, Bear. Idiots like that are so darned annoying."

"He probably sends unsolicited dick pics," Ashlynn says.

"Oh for sure," Kyle adds. "And he probably thinks it's gonna make every woman swoon at his feet."

"The popped collar?" Thomas says, snarky and acidic. "As if . That's so early aughts. And it was never cool in the first place."

Colin just nods at me. 'Thank you."

I just shrug. "Yup."

Thomas giggles. "You're really committed to the strong silent type bit, aren't you?"

I’ve never heard a man giggle before. It's funny—I almost smile. I just nod instead. "I guess."

"So, Bear. What brings you to Three Rivers?" Ashlynn asks, elbows propped on the table, chin on her fists.

"Work."

"What do you do?" she asks.

"I work for Crowe Demolitions." I hope she'll leave it at that.

Thomas fans his face. "Ohmygod. Riley Crowe. Colin, I love you to bits, you know that, but if Riley fucking Crowe ever turned gay, I'd leave you for him in a heartbeat. That man is sex on toast."

Colin just rolls his eyes. "Riley Crowe is a shameless manwhore."

"Well, duh," Thomas shoots back. "He's a himbo, but he's hot as balls."

Raina snickers. "Balls aren't hot, Thomas. They're wrinkly, hairy, saggy, and weird."

"That's just because you haven’t found the right balls," Thomas answers. "When the right balls come along, I promise, honey, you'll want to lick them all day long."

Raina just fakes a retch. "I'm gonna be sick."

Kyle snorts. "You're such a prude, Raina."

"I'm not a prude! It's just—who licks balls? No one! You just end up with pubes in your mouth." She makes a disgusted face, shaking her head. "No thanks. Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt, and burned it."

"That's because you don't actually lick them," Thomas says. "It's more like a nice, soft suckling motion. Right, honey?" He nuzzles into Colin.

Colin blushes. "Who wants another round?"

Thomas just giggles again. "You're so predictable. You can take the boy out of church, but you can't take the church out of the boy, even if he is gayer than Elton John."

Noelle moves from her chair to perch on the edge of the bench beside me, leaning into me. "My friends are perverts, Bear. I hope you're not easily offended."

I shift over to give her more room, but she only follows me, shoving herself against my side. "They're funny."

"Thanks for handling those two jerks.”

"My pleasure."

"Is that how everyone reacts to you?" She looks up at me as she asks the question, all of her attention focused on me.

That too-tight feeling comes back, and my mouth goes dry again. "Usually. I scare people."

"You don't scare me," she says.

I don't know what to say. "Probably should." It's the wrong thing to say, but it's the truth.

"Why? Because of your size? Or because of whatever it was you wrote down on the form?"

"Both."

"Well, I'm not afraid of you."

"You don't know anything about me."

She smiles. "Nope. Not yet. How about you tell me something?"

"Like what?"

She touches my left forearm, where I had a tattoo blacked out. "Like what was under here."

Hesitating for a moment, I sigh. "A bad tattoo."

“Bad in terms of content or quality?"

"Both."

"What was it?" Curiosity, interest—no judgment.

"Gang affiliation." It's as much as I can manage, right now.

She examines me, searching my face with those bright green eyes. "And you're not in the gang anymore, so you covered it up?"

"Right."

"What kind of a gang was it?"

"The bad kind." That's only partially true.

They kept me alive. Gave me a home. A family. They also used me, got me into trouble, and put me in prison. I don't say any of that, though. I don't have the words for any of it. And if a sweet, innocent girl like her knew even half the truth, she would be afraid.

A burly, blond, bearded man wearing a flat cap taps a microphone. "Welcome to Trivia Night at The Cellar, everyone!" A chorus of hoots, hollers, and applause greet this. “You all know the rules by now, but I’ll review for those who might be new. One person answers for the team. The first team to ten points wins the round, and the first team to win three rounds gets a two-hundred-and-fifty dollar gift card redeemable here at The Cellar. Remember, no googling! Now, is everyone ready? Our first category is pop culture."

Over the next three hours, Noelle and her friends win two rounds, battling another table for the third round. Oddly enough, I end up contributing answers twice and find myself enjoying the evening. Mainly because Noelle stays close to me the whole time, some part of her touching me at all times—a hand, a knee, a thigh against mine.

It's intoxicating— she’s intoxicating. Hypnotic. Always laughing, joking with her friends, always with a smile. And even though I rarely speak, she never pushes me and never seems to think it's awkward.

Even her friends seem comfortable with me. Colin is almost as quiet as I am, and Thomas obviously adores him.

The other team ends up winning since none of us knew the name of a famous fountain in Rome. Our team groans when the other team comes up with the correct answer and the win, but no one seems especially upset.

Colin is the first to stand up. "I have to work early, guys. Can we go, Tommy?"

Thomas rolls his eyes. "Fine, be all responsible and shit." He stands up with his boyfriend and blows kisses to the group—including me. "Love you all. See you next week!"

Thomas playfully shoves Colin through the crowd, goosing his ass a few times along the way, which Colin plays along with, acting primly outraged.

"C'mon, girls, we might as well go, too," Ashlynn says. “If I have another Cosmo, I’ll need a ride home, and god knows the ride-share options in this town are few and far between."

"No shit," Raina says, examining the long receipt and digging cash out of her purse. "The last time I got drunk on Trivia night, I waited for my Uber for over an hour. I could have walked home faster than that."

I follow the girls out of the bar, accompanying them across the parking lot.

Kyle glances at me over her shoulder as we reach the far side of the lot and a cluster of cars all parked together. "Nice to have a bodyguard no one will fuck with. I've never liked this parking lot at night."

Noelle grins up at me. "I'm glad you came, Bear."

I nod. "I had fun. Thank you for inviting me."

I wait as she chats with her friends for a few minutes, and the other three get in their cars and drive off, leaving Noelle and me alone in the lot under a wide pool of amber light from a street lamp.

"Did you really have fun?" she asks.

I nod. "Yes. Never been to a trivia night."

She grins, shrugging. "It's just a fun excuse to get together and hang out every week."

"Almost won tonight," I say.

"Almost." She looks up at me. "So. When will I see you again?"

I swallow hard. "Dunno. Next Friday?"

"When do you volunteer at the rescue?"

"Most nights after work. I help Gloria clean up and feed everyone before she closes up for the night. Wash the dogs. Walk ‘em around play with ‘em.”

"Maybe I'll stop by and help one night this week." She looks hopeful.

It's hard not to read anything into the way she's acting toward me. Hard not to let the little seed of hope germinate.

"I'd like that."

She smiles at me, and my heart pounds. "See you soon?"

"Sure will. Drive safe."

She squeezes my hand. "Where's your car?" She looks around the now empty lot.

I shrug. "Walked. I live close."

"Want a ride?"

I shrug again. "It's okay. Not even a ten-minute walk. I'm good."

She looks almost disappointed, which is ridiculous. But it makes me rethink. "If you’re sure."

"No need to go out of your way."

She pats my arm. "It's not, I promise."

I lick my lips, hesitate another moment, and then shrug. “Okay, then."

Her car is tiny and smells like fruit and lavender. My heart pounds the whole ride to my apartment complex, and my hands are clammy and sweaty.

I can't help staring at her lips and her small, clever hands. Her chest. Her bare thighs.

God, stop staring.

I know she caught me looking at least once, and only grins at me, a sly little smirk, but says nothing.

"See you at the shelter, Bear," she says as I unfold from her car.

“Yeah, see you."

She snickers. "You're so funny. Bye!"

She drives off, leaving me wondering what I did that was so funny.

No clue.

All I know is I like her. A lot.

And that seed of hope is germinating, despite my best efforts to kill it.