Chapter 21
The Rusty Anchor was packed when I stepped inside.
I’d gone home after my shift, debating whether or not to come out.
A part of me wanted to stay home, not feeling in the mood to be around a large crowd.
But the house was unusually quiet because, instead of hanging out with him there, Gabe had taken Maverick to his place for the night because I’d been unsure of my plans.
With the silence pressing in, the pull to feel the grounding calm of a certain someone’s presence became overwhelming. It didn’t take long for the need to see her to win out.
My eyes scanned the area, and I spotted Haley in the back at one of the pub tables. I paused mid-step.
Something was wrong.
I felt it in the sharp, wary look she shot me, her posture coiled like a wire about to snap.
Then I noticed the unfamiliar man beside her.
Unfamiliar to me. He was leaning in, his voice pitched low as he spoke to her, as if they shared.
..something. Noticing he’d lost her attention, he abruptly waved a hand near her face, snapping her focus back to him, and my jaw clenched with instinctive protectiveness.
I looked away from Haley and the man, spotted Marie at the bar, and walked over to her. When I approached, I gently touched her shoulder. She spun around, grinning up at me. “Dr. Dimples! You made it!”
I huffed out a laugh. “I did. Happy birthday.”
Her grin grew. “Thank you!”
“I’ll get your next drink,” I offered, signaling the bartender. Then I leaned against the bar, looking at her. “Who’s the guy sitting with Haley?”
Marie let out a scoff of disdain as she rolled her eyes. “Brett.”
I stiffened. As in the grade-A prick ex-boyfriend Brett? “What’s he doing here?”
“No idea.” She glanced over her shoulder in their direction.
As the bartender brought Marie her drink and nodded to confirm it was on my tab, I watched Haley excuse herself from Brett and cross the bar toward us.
“Hey, you made it,” she said as she approached.
I nodded, studying her for a moment. She was clearly tense—her posture tight, lips pressed together. I lifted my chin and nodded toward the back of the room. “Brett?”
Haley sighed, shaking her head. “He just showed up, taking a stab in the dark that I might be here.”
That burning sensation behind my ribs exploded, a wildfire in my chest. “What does he want?”
“To talk,” she replied.
“Oh, fuck him,” Marie interjected, and I couldn’t help the way my lips twitched. “Tell him to eat shit and leave.”
“I’m trying to do that, just in a more civil manner.”
“Screw being civil,” Marie spat. “You don’t owe him shit.”
“I know I don’t. I just–”
“Hales!”
Hearing him call out to her made the burning in my chest flare. After what she’d told me, I didn't know why she was still talking to him, but she seemed to have her reasons.
“I’ll be back,” Haley said quietly, her jaw set. I watched her shoulders tense again as she turned and walked stiffly back to Brett.
“What the hell is she doing?” Marie whispered. “God, that guy is such a dick.”
I watched her sit back on the pub stool, her eyes flickering to mine again. “She’s a smart girl. I’m sure she’s just handling him in her own way.”
“I appreciate your confidence, Dr. Dimples, but you weren’t around to see all of those times he put her through the wringer before—the other women, the arrogance, the fake charm bullshit.
Yet he always pulled her back in. I don’t want her swept into the romanticized version she had of him, making excuses. She deserves better.”
“She knows that,” I countered in Haley’s defense. “She knows she deserves better than him.”
She promised.
While Marie got pulled away to celebrate with some others, I remained at the bar, taking a seat on the stool and keeping my eyes locked on Haley.
“Can I get your usual beer?” Scott, the bartender, asked.
“Uh, no…” I said, my eyes never leaving her. “I’ll take a Blackwood bourbon, please.” I limited myself to one drink because I had to drive home, but a beer wouldn’t cut it. Whatever was coming felt heavier than that.
I sat there for the next damn hour, slowly nursing my bourbon while watching Haley have a hushed conversation with Brett.
Even from the distance across the bar, I understood what Marie meant when she said “fake charm bullshit.” I could see the way that douchebag was smiling at her, trying his damndest to use what I assume were all the tricks that worked on her in the past. It wasn’t working, though.
He would say something, and Haley would shake her head or roll her eyes, showing complete disinterest.
And she kept looking at me the whole damn time.
Every so often, her eyes would shift right to the bar where I was sitting, almost as if she were making sure I was still there. I wasn’t leaving. Not while that dickhead was next to her.
As time dragged on, Brett seemed to grow bolder. He leaned in, invading her space, fingers grazing her arm with a possessiveness that made my blood boil. Every touch was a taunt, done like he had some kind of right because of their history.
Haley finally jerked her arm back, her jaw clenching, but Brett stopped her. Then, I watched the asshole lean in as if to kiss her. My shoulders tensed and my chest burned, every muscle on high alert as I watched.
Haley turned her head, stopping him with a hand to his chest, and her gaze caught mine.
That’s my girl, I thought. Don’t let him back in.
I saw a flash in her eyes—a look that said she knew exactly what I was thinking…
and liked it. And she didn’t look away after that, the heat in her gaze becoming more apparent with each passing moment.
Brett must have seen it and assumed it was for him because he tried to kiss her again, but this time, she shoved him back—not hard but enough to make her declination crystal fucking clear.
And he didn’t like that much.
My grip tightened around my glass as I watched the irritation flare on Brett’s face. He stood abruptly, lips pressed in a thin line. Then I heard him speak, sharp and dismissive. “I’m going to grab us another drink. Clearly, you need more to loosen you up. When did you become so damn uptight?”
He didn’t wait for her to respond before stalking toward the bar, but I wasn’t watching him. My eyes were still on hers. I barely registered the asshole when he came up to the bar, stopping just a few feet from me as he lifted a finger to Scott to flag him down.
But he seemed to have noticed me.
And where I was looking.
His cocky voice cut through the air. “Don’t get any ideas. She’s interested in me.”
“That so?” I drawled, not even bothering to spare a glance in the prick’s direction.
“Yeah,” he scoffed. “It is so. So look away.”
I nodded. “Interesting.”
He turned toward me, crossing his arms over his chest, pushing up his biceps with the movement to try to make them appear bigger. “What’s so damn interesting?”
I tossed back the rest of my drink before finally looking at him as I stood from the stool, the legs scraping against the wood floor as I rose to my full height.
His eyes widened. Fucking pipsqueak. “Interesting that while you were trying to stick your tongue down her throat, she was eye fucking me from across the room. I think it’s safe to say I know where that interest of hers lies. ”
I didn’t wait for him to sputter out some pathetic, douchey response before I was walking away, right toward her.
My voice dropped low as I approached. “Come on,” I said, holding out my hand. “I’m taking you home before that dickhead tries something else.”
Haley held my stare, but didn’t hesitate, taking my hand as she slipped off the stool. “Okay.”
I led her through the bar, relishing in the way she ignored Brett when he called out her name. She found Marie, who was pretty damn tipsy, to let her know she was leaving.
Usually, I’d probably feel awkward with the way Marie was giggling and looking between the two of us like she knew something, but I didn’t care. Between that asshole and the way Haley had been looking at me, I was too damn on edge at that moment to give a shit about anything else.
We left the bar a moment later, and I didn’t let go of her hand until we reached my Jeep in the parking lot and I opened the passenger door for her. Once she was in, I shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side, sliding inside and starting the engine.
The drive to her townhouse simmered with unspoken tension, thick as smoke.
It coiled between us, a living thing neither of us could ignore, no matter how much we tried.
My thoughts were a storm I could barely contain, and her eyes kept flicking over, searching my face for answers I couldn’t—or wouldn’t—give.
I pulled along the curb out front and shut off the engine before we both slipped out of the car. As we walked up the walkway and onto the front porch, I told myself I was walking her to the front door. Nothing more.
Haley unlocked her door, cracking it open before turning to face me. “Are you alright?” she asked.
My brow furrowed. “I think the better question is, are you?”
“I’m fine. But you seem…a little on edge.” And she knew why. I knew she did, even if she was feigning innocence.
“I’m good, Haley. I just—he was being too forward, he was being too handsy, and then he made that damn loosen-you-up comment…”
“You do realize I had no intention of falling for his crap, right?” Then, she added with a soft smile, “I wasn’t going to break my promise.”
“Marie was right. You should have told him to eat shit and sent him on his way.”
“Fair.” She chuckled. “But I was trying to give him a chance to say his piece so that I could shut down any further communication. I don’t need him texting me anymore, coming by my place, or popping into my hangout–”
“Whoa, whoa,” I cut her off, shaking my head. “What the hell do you mean by coming by your place?”
“He said he stopped by here,” she explained as she gestured to her townhouse, “but I wasn’t home.”