Chapter 16
Luke
Another night, another crack in my chest from having to pretend that everything is fine for the sake of Annie and our friends.
On the outside, I’m giving her space, and everything is fine.
On the inside, I’m fighting every urge to lock us both in the apartment and make her tell me what she meant about me not being there when she needed me most.
I’ve racked my brain for the whole month of August trying to figure out what I did that would make her say that I wasn’t there when she needed me, and there are years of memories to think through.
And there’s been no time for me to think of what the fuck I’m going to do once Emmett comes back. The time I gained from the excuse I gave to my dad about not being able to leave Lenny’s yet won’t last forever.
I’ve been avoiding his phone calls like the plague—he barely said a word to me when I told him I wouldn’t be able to start at the firm in September. Caleb has been calling me too, wanting to find out what my plan is after Bennett told him about our conversation at breakfast.
In all honesty, I know what I want to do.
And I know it’s not going to be what my dad wants to hear.
So I’m putting it off.
Even though I’m not training at the bar anymore, and the three new bartenders know what they’re doing, I’ve been here enough over the past three weeks that I can give Annie her space.
The nights I’m not here, I go to the hockey rink with my buddies from law school to blow off steam.
I set down some drinks for the baseball team taking up the whole back corner of the bar, trying not to trip over their bat bags they brought in with them.
I pull my phone from my pocket, glancing at the time and seeing it’s been about fifteen minutes since Ava went on her break.
Usually, I wouldn’t be too much of a stickler about it, but the bar is pretty packed, and I could use the help.
As I approach where Ava and her boyfriend are sitting at the bar, a few feet away from Annie and the rest of our friends, I hear what’s-his-face say something about what Ava is wearing.
“Seriously?” the guy says to her as I approach. “You really have to show your mediocre tits to get some attention?”
“I’m not showing them off, Jett,” Ava answers, and her eyes dart to me. Her voice is small as if she is embarrassed that I heard the exchange.
“Ava?” I politely interject, “I need you back behind the bar.” And away from this guy , I think to myself.
“Fuck off, man. We’re in the middle of a conversation.” I don’t know how many beers Ava served him, or if he was drinking before he got here, but I can hear the slight slur in his words. He turns back to Ava. “Seriously, why are you dressed like such a slut? ”
“Hey,” I say, my voice taking on a harder tone. “Don’t talk to her like that.” Whether she was covered from head to toe or dressed how she is now in her Lenny’s tank top and jeans, I think this dick would find any excuse to insult the girl.
“I said, ‘fuck off’. This is between me and my girlfriend.” He pushes his arm out towards me, and I let him push me back a foot or two. I’ve handled worse drunken spats at the bar during my time at Lenny’s, and I don’t care to play “who's more macho” in these types of scenarios.
I hold my hands up, and try one more time. “I think it’s time for you to go. Ava, I need you back behind the bar.”
It’s like my words went in one ear and out the other. Ava looks like she’s about to cry, yet her boyfriend just doesn’t let up.
“Is this fuck the reason you’re dressed like that?”
I’m two seconds away from throwing my hands up and letting the cops deal with this when a voice from behind me chimes in, and it doesn’t look like we’re getting out of this the easy way.
“So you’re mad your girlfriend has tits ?” I hear the familiar voice behind me, and she doesn’t sound happy. “Your hot-ass girlfriend can’t wear a shirt that, god-forbid, shows an inch of cleavage? You’re that insecure?”
“Annie,” I say, and she shoots me a look. I hold my hands up in surrender and would wish mercy on Jett if he wasn’t such an asshole.
Jett looks Annie up and down, and I know he just signed his own death warrant.
He shrugs his shoulders, a nasty smirk on his face. “Takes a slut to know a slut.”
Annie’s head falls back as she puts a hand on her stomach to dramatize a cackle that our boy, Jett, was not expecting. Ava is soft-spoken, quiet. She kind of reminds me how Annie used to be. Jett is used to being able to say whatever he wants to a girl who will just take it.
He’s in for a wild ride.
“Good one. I’ve never heard a ‘slut’ comeback before. What’s next? I’m fat? Ugly?”
“You look like you hear those a lot already,” he retorts, a slimy, satisfied grin on his face. Jett has to be in thirties, and Ava is, at the most, my age. The look on his face shows his age at the same time it shows his true colors, and I hope Ava sees them.
“Ooo, burn,” Annie teases. “You proud of that one? It must have taken a lot of brainpower.”
I have to mask my chuckle with a cough in my fist, as Jett stands up, only having a few inches on Annie but absolutely none on me. I know Annie doesn’t want me stepping in, but I’m here if she changes her mind.
He leans a few inches from her face, his fully-poured beer in his hand. “Watch your mouth. Wouldn’t wanna see you get hurt.”
Annie doesn’t back away, her voice hard. “Is that a threat?”
“Why don’t you keep talking, and we’ll find out.” Jett’s grin only widens as if he’s enjoying all of this. He doesn’t say anything else, but I see his arm move before I can pull Annie out of the way.
The prick fucking throws his drink all over Annie, beer coating her white tank top and trousers she wore to work today.
Her mouth is open, forming an “O”. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this mad—and that is saying something. Jett’s face twists to mine, and he utters his famous last words. “Control your girl.”
This time it’s my turn to laugh. “Dude, you have no idea what you just did.” And before he can look back at where Annie is standing, she’s gone.
Annie is passing by the booth of college kids, grabbing one of their bats from their bags and storming out the front door.
Realization must hit Jett at the same time it hits the rest of us because it turns into a race to get out the door. Mia and Eddie are the first ones out the door behind Annie, me, Jett, and Ava right behind them. Emmett, with a protective arm around Drew and Lennon, catches up with us by the time we get outside—along with the rest of the bar.
And what a sight we find.
Annie is already at the only white truck in the parking lot, swinging the bat in her hands. The first crack of the windshield sends a shiver up my spine, and we all watch as she continues, a devious smile on her face as she destroys Jett’s prized possession.
I make a mental note to delete the camera footage for the parking lot when I get back inside, but I have a feeling that Jett won’t involve the police after a whole bar witnessed him threaten Annie.
“What the fuck?!” Jett booms, and I can’t even pretend to feel sorry for him. His hands go to his head, pulling the thin strands between his fingers before turning to me.
“Aren’t you going to do something?” he yells, but it comes out more as a whine. There’s a look of pleading in his eyes as he looks from me to his truck.
Annie finally decided it had enough and starts walking towards us .
“What do you expect me to do?” I counter with a shrug of my shoulders. “You pissed her off.”
Making her way through the crowd, Annie rests the bat on her shoulder and walks over to the group of college kids, who are looking at her in awe.
She holds the bat out to no one in particular. “Thank you for the rental, boys,” she chides, adding a wink for good measure before three different kids reach out to grab the bat from her, all mumbling different “you’re welcome” sentiments.
While the baseball team has heart-eyes, I look over at Jett who has steam coming out of his ears. The guy is smarter than he looks, because he just storms over to his beaten-up truck, hops in the driver’s seat and speeds off as the rest of the patrons cheer.
I see Mia and Eddie run up to Annie, Emmett and Drew—with Lennon in tow—right behind them. Mia’s hands go to Annie’s cheeks, cupping her face and pulling a smile from her while Drew shakes her head trying to hide her own smile.
Eddie and Emmett each hold up a hand, making Annie grin ear-to-ear as she reaches up to slap her hands against theirs, and I tear my attention away from Annie to look at Ava.
“You okay?” I ask her, resting my hand on her shoulder.
She exhales. “I’m okay.” Giving me a small smile, she turns to make her way back inside, and I hope tonight showed her that she deserves much better than a guy like that.
“Hey, bartender.”
I turn around to find a beer-soaked Annie.
There’s a flush to her face from that handy work on Jett’s truck, her cheeks almost as red as her lips .
“Hey, honey.”
There’s a few feet between us, and she closes the distance with a step forward. This is the closest I’ve been to her in three weeks.
Now that the excitement is over, the crowd has gone back inside, along with our friends, so it’s just the two of us.
The sun set at least half an hour ago, and with nothing but a few street lights, the Lenny’s neon sign, and the moonlight, it feels like we’re the only two people left on Earth.
“That was quite the show,” I say, balling my fists to resist the urge to trace my fingertips over the smooth skin of her arms.
She shrugs. “He deserved it.”
“I’m sure Ava appreciated someone standing up for her like that.” I put my hands in my pocket as I rock back on my heels.
“That wasn’t for Ava.”
I lift a brow and cock my head, confused as to who else it would be for.
“I mean, yeah, I would have stepped in for any girl in that sort of situation, but—” she uncrosses her arms to tuck her hair behind her ears, her white tank top is soaked through, showing the outline of the white, lacy bralette she has under.
I pull my hoodie off over my head, leaving me in a black Henley and shorts, and I put it over her head before she can tell me to fuck off.
“But what?” I ask, a small crack in my voice I hope she doesn’t notice, as she pushes her arm through my sweatshirt.
She looks so small in my hoodie, the bottom hem hitting her mid-thigh, her hands barely sticking out of the sleeves, and the hood on her head dropping down on her forehead. I have to hold in a chuckle.
“He touched you,” she whispers, and all signs of humor fade.
I nod, but I still don’t get what she’s trying to say. My face must be easy to read because she rolls her eyes and sighs.
“I saw him push you, and it pissed me off.”
“So, let me get this straight,” I start, needing to clarify that I am indeed hearing what Annie is saying or if the guy actually knocked me out in the bar and the past ten minutes have been a dream. “You saw the guy push me, so you came over, ripped him a new one, and then when he took it too far, you bashed his truck with a baseball bat. Because he ‘touched’ me? Not because he called you names or poured a beer all over you?”
She crosses her arms again, and the tips of her ears pinken. “Well, when you say it like that,” she says through her teeth, “it makes it sound much worse than it was.”
I can’t explain the feeling in my chest at the thought of Annie wanting to protect me. It’s similar to the rush I feel when she tells me to shut up or pouts her pretty lips, but I don’t think it’s a feeling I can ever go so long without again.
“You like me,” I say, a grin on my face.
“I can’t stand you.”
“Admit it. You like me.”
“I’ll admit I don’t like seeing anyone else put you in your place. That’s my job.”
“Don’t be a brat.”
“Don’t be a dick.”
Somehow, in the last five seconds, we ended up chest to chest, and now we’re at a standstill. It’s been weeks since we’ve talked— really talked—and there’s so much between us that needs to be said. But, at this moment, I can’t remember anything except for what it feels like to kiss Annie.
“What are you going to do about it?” I push, knowing Annie fights the hardest when she’s scared.
Just like she did when her apartment got broken into, and she didn’t want to ask for help.
Just like when she feels me getting close to her, so she pushes me away.
Just like when those feelings for me come up to the surface, and she tries to bury them even deeper.
“Absolutely nothing.” Her voice is like venom, but I’d let her sink her teeth into me if it meant I could feel her lips.
“You sure about that?” I tease, and I’m no more than an inch away from her lips, my hands pulling out from my pocket to find her hips.
She sucks in a breath, placing her hands on my chest, but she doesn’t push me away. Instead, she closes her eyes, and I take my chance, even if it’s the last thing I ever do.
My lips crash into hers, and I pull her into me, holding her hips to make sure she stays right here.But when has she ever done what I wanted her to do?
Annie pulls back, a hand going to her mouth. Her eyes meet mine, and it looks like she’s about to say something. I hold my breath, hoping I didn’t just make another mistake that’ll just push her further away.
Then, with a slight shake of her head, “Fuck it,” she says, and her fingers fist my shirt, her nails lightly scratching my skin underneath, pulling me back in and pressing her lips against mine.
I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again .
Kissing Annie is like coming home.