Chapter 9
9
AURORA
Two hours into my Saturday night at Peakside and I have a belly full of overly frothy beer and chicken nachos. Well, more beer than nachos as Brody scarfed most of the giant plate before anyone else got a chance to have more than a couple of chips.
I didn’t think that I’d feel as comfortable with such a large group of people as I do tonight. There hasn’t been any awkward silence to fill or the pressure to hop into certain conversations when I don’t have anything worth adding. Everyone seems genuinely happy to be in each other’s company. It’s nice. Relaxing.
The first time I was here with this group, I was terrified. I wasn’t ready to be introduced to so many people all at once, but I agreed anyway, only to regret it the moment the table began to fill.
Anna was my new boss, and when she asked me to come, I fell into the trap of not wanting to risk my job by turning her down. I know now that that wouldn’t have happened. These people are kind and real. The genuine type that are hard to find.
And like a cruel joke from the universe, they’ve all fallen into my lap at a time in my life where it isn’t possible to keep them. All they are to me now is a temptation I want to give in to but know I can’t.
I take another gulp of my second beer and eye the group, listening intently to their conversation while pretending that I can’t feel Johnny’s heat seeping into my side.
We’ve been shoved so close together now that everyone’s here, and our booth is full. I’ve lost track of how many times our arms have brushed and our knees have knocked. My tongue is going to have permanent teeth marks by the time the night is over.
It doesn’t help that he smells really fucking good tonight. Like something deep and rich and woodsy but also the tiniest bit sweet. I want to lean into his body and bury my face in the front of his shirt just to get a stronger whiff of it, and that’s fucking weird.
As if he can tell exactly what I’m thinking, Johnny glances over at me, a knowing smirk tugging at his plump lips. God, they’re really plump. The bottom one looks almost swollen, but in a sexy way. Like it’s been sucked and bitten on for hours prior to him coming out tonight.
My gut pinches at that thought, and I’m quick to extinguish the discomfort at the thought of him coming here directly after a hookup. I’m not jealous, and I’m absolutely not annoyed that he’s got a sex life. But I would be put off if he’s here flirting with me so soon after.
“Is beer your liquor of choice?” he asks lowly, starting up a conversation for just us.
“Usually.”
“I had a feeling.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, oh ,” he teases, flicking his eyes to the almost empty bottle I have clutched in my hands. “I’m a lightweight, so it’s always beer for me.”
I swirl the bottle between my palms. “I’m not even close to a lightweight. ”
“Ooh, interesting. So how many of those would it take to have you giggling at my bad jokes?”
“More than I plan to drink tonight.” I twist so my shoulder’s pressed to the wall and I can look at Johnny properly. The loopy grin on his face has me blurting out, “How many will it take to have you telling me said bad jokes?”
“Oh, darlin’. I’m already halfway there.”
“From two beers?”
“From two beers,” he confirms.
“That’s got to be a record somewhere.”
“If it was, does that mean you’ll give me a reward for my success?”
A laugh slips from me far too easily. I blame it on the alcohol. “What kind of reward are you hoping for?”
He taps a finger to his lips and hums for a minute before deciding. “Let me walk you home tonight.”
“That seems like a waste of a reward.”
His eyes snare mine, the determination in them causing an uptick in my pulse. “Not even close.”
I swallow before clearing my throat, and when I still feel like I can’t breathe, I bring my beer back to my lips and drink the last sip.
“I drove here, but I won’t be driving home. I’ll drop you off and come back so I can grab a ride from someone. All I want is to walk with you,” he adds.
“Fine. But when you get bored of walking in silence, it’s not my fault.”
That determination I saw flares, growing into something even stronger. “Bored? I doubt it, Rory.”
He purrs my name, and I set my bottle down before smoothing my sweaty hands down my thighs, careful to keep my arms to myself.
“Are you two done with your private conversation yet? I have a question for you, J,” Brody says from across the table.
I blink and stare at the several sets of eyes now fixated on me and Johnny. The man beside me doesn’t seem to mind the attention as he winks at Brody, but me? I want to crawl into a hole and wait for it to collapse on me.
“Go for it,” he tells his friend, sounding far too casual.
Brody tips his chin and starts to speak, but I miss the entire first half of his sentence when Johnny nudges me with his elbow, the touch searing through me. It would be an accidental brush if it were anyone else, but by the mischievous twitch of his features, I know it was anything but.
“—she should be okay, but I want an extra set of eyes on ’er while we’re gone. You up for it?” Brody asks.
I hide my confusion behind a blank expression, pretending that I’ve been paying attention when I damn well wasn’t. God, I’m bound to make a fool of myself one of these days if I can’t keep myself out of my head.
Johnny doesn’t seem to suffer from the same lack of concentration as I do. He replies in an instant, having not missed half of the conversation. “Of course. You don’t even have to ask.”
Brody releases a sigh of relief, and the arm he has slung around Anna’s shoulder relaxes some. She gazes up at him dreamily and rubs his chest in slow circles. It’s a casual movement, and I latch onto it, thinking back to a time where I would have touched a man that easily just because I wanted to.
It was a long, long time ago. Back when I was a book nerd spending my days in the front row of lectures and my nights tucked in the empty corners of closed libraries. I wasn’t exactly a wild one, but my ex didn’t care. I think he preferred me nice and tame. It made it easier for him to control me and our life. But never again. I’m not the same person I was then.
“Was the cut deep? Wade never mentioned it earlier,” Garrison states, swaying slightly to the music playing with Poppy in his lap at the edge of the table.
They pulled up a chair after disappearing for a few minutes shortly after arriving. It only took one look at them when they got back to realize why they left and what they were doing. Unless Garrison’s into wearing red lipstick smeared along his throat and staining his white button-up.
Everyone teased them, but I was content simply watching everyone’s interactions.
Poppy rolls her head against her boyfriend’s chest and rubs her cheek against his sternum. “It’s not deep at all. Brody’s being a mother hen again.”
“I’m not bein’ a mother hen. She’s favouring her front leg, and I don’t want her hurtin’ herself further while I’m gone,” Brody grunts, and I put the pieces together that they must be talking about an animal. His horse, maybe.
Johnny stares straight across the table at him, as serious as ever. “I’ll take care of your girl, Brody. Don’t worry about it.”
Brody looks back at him with equal seriousness before nodding slowly. “Thank you.”
“Aurora, as your friend, I think it would be in incredibly poor taste for me not to tell you that I don’t think you should be living in your rental,” Poppy says, focused on me now.
I push my empty beer bottle away from me and grab a napkin before tearing it up to keep my hands busy. “It’s really not as bad as you all think it is.”
“It might actually be worse.” Anna grimaces.
Poppy points at her best friend in approval. “Exactly right. I hope you at least have a few crosses hung on the walls. Maybe I should bring you some sage to light. Just in case you’re not really alone. I heard someone say once that they saw a creepy woman standing in the upstairs window.”
“It’s not haunted,” Garrison tells her.
She leans out of his arms and stares at him deadpan. “And you know that how? Have you gone inside and asked if anyone’s there?”
“Fuck no.”
“Well, then you don’t know that it isn’t.” Her brown eyes find mine again. “Have you noticed anything? Any banging at night or woken up with bruises? ”
I shake my head, stifling a laugh. “No. It’s not haunted. Ghosts aren’t real.”
Bryce gasps, setting her glass down on the table hard enough for me to feel it on the other side. “Ghosts are real. And just because you said that, they’re going to haunt your ass.”
“Don’t start with your ghost hunter shit again, Bryce,” Darren groans.
She pins him beneath a sharp glare. “I’m genuinely shocked no ghost has thrown a plate at your head yet. You certainly deserve it from time to time.”
“Okay. So, Bryce is into ghosts,” I mutter, desperate for everyone to drop the topic. “There aren’t any in my house. We can move on now.”
“She’s dressed up as a Ghostbuster for the past five Halloweens in a row,” Poppy says.
I blink. “Oh.”
Poppy grows more alert, jerking into a proper sitting position. Garrison grips her tight around her middle as if he’s worried she’ll slide from his lap.
“That reminds me. We should start planning our costumes for this year. I’m thinking we can have the party at our house. Maybe invite some of the new girls from my Calgary Beautifully Bold location over too,” she suggests excitedly.
“A Halloween party?” I ask, discomfort slithering up my spine.
Parties have never been my thing. I’ve avoided them like the plague my entire life, and I don’t plan on changing that at thirty years old. Plus, isn’t it a little early to be planning for Halloween? It’s only August.
Suddenly, Johnny’s forearm glides along mine as he reaches across the table toward the stack of napkins. I watch as he grabs one from the top of the stack and then brings his arm back, purposefully touching me again, this time lifting his eyes to look at me as he does. I grow still. He smiles gently, and then his touch is gone. When I look at what he’s doing, I find him using the napkin to wipe at the already dry table.
It’s not until I notice my discomfort has settled that I realize he didn’t need a napkin at all. That move had been just for me.
“I’m sorry, Pop, but I’m exhausted, and I promised Rory I’d walk her home tonight. Can we talk about Halloween next time?” he asks, yawning loudly.
I don’t buy it, and as the group sweeps their eyes between the two of us, it’s clear they don’t either. I’ve grown tired of caring what they think to bother adding an excuse, though. That’s a problem for Monday morning when Anna will no doubt ask about it.
“Yeah. I’m tired too,” I mutter.
Poppy lets it go and flashes us an easy smile. “Of course. Let us know when you’re coming back so we can be ready to drop you at home.”
Johnny does a two-finger salute, and then Darren’s scooting out of the booth to let us out. I say goodbye quickly and follow behind Johnny as he leads us out of the bar.
The moment we step outside and the cooling evening breeze hits, I have to swallow a moan. It’s silent, the street empty besides the two men leaning against a car smoking cigarettes. Johnny waves at them, and they return it before we turn our backs to them and start down the sidewalk.
My nose feels oily beneath my makeup after a long night in the hot bar, and I’m beyond ready to take it off and get in bed. It’s probably half melted off my face at this point. At least it’s dark so Johnny can’t see the splotchiness anymore.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think the house is haunted. Raggedy as fuck, yes. But not haunted,” he says.
“Raggedy? That’s rude.”
“Rude but true. You have to know it isn’t safe.”
“It’s safe enough,” I argue stubbornly.
We keep our pace slow, easy. I can’t help but look down his legs at his booted feet, curious how much he has to be stunting his large steps to keep up with such a leisurely pace. Those things are a near kilometre long.
“Safe enough isn’t really all that settling, darlin’.”
“I wasn’t aware that I was supposed to be settling you, sugar .”
His laugh fills the street, bouncing off the much nicer, sturdier homes we pass. It makes my pulse skitter, and I kick my toe at the sidewalk harder than usual on my next step.
“You know, I actually like that pet name. Keep it coming,” he teases, glancing my way just long enough to wink.
“With all the winking you do, some would assume you constantly have something in your eyes.”
“Fuck me, you like busting balls,” he says, a low rumble from deep in his chest following the words.
“You should stop leaving them so open for me to abuse.”
“How do you suggest I do that?”
I open my mouth to shoot back some sort of teasing dig but close it before I do. Honestly, I don’t want him to change anything he’s doing. This back-and-forth feels good. It’s easy, and I haven’t had easy in a long time.
“Did you want to walk me home tonight because you’re worried about the rampant crime in Cherry Peak?” I ask, changing the subject.
The tip of a finger finds my wristbone and glides across my knuckles before disappearing again, leaving me with skin scattered with goosebumps.
“No. I wanted to walk you home because I’ve been trying to get time alone with you for a month now with no luck. I figured this might be my only shot, and I wasn’t about to pass on it. Even a few minutes is better than nothing,” he admits.
It’s the confidence in his admission that affects me the most. The surety in the fact that he actually wants to spend time with me in any way he can just so he can get to know me that little bit more. It threatens to do my head in.
I’m not used to such fearless pining. Especially not from someone I hardly know and have turned down on multiple occasions.
“You’re putting a hell of a lot of eggs in one basket. How do you know you’ll like what you find the further you dig?”
His shrug is adorable in the most na?ve of ways. “I’ve got a good sense of intuition.”
“I’ve never made a decision based off of blind faith before.”
“I don’t know about blind, darlin’. I’ve got twenty-twenty vision, and right now, it’s dead focused on you.”