Chapter 18Olivia #2
My chest slumps over the counter again, eyes fastening to the back of Jake’s blond crewcut as he fades into the crowd. I rest my chin on my knuckles, people-watching through the remainder of the seasonal ale Cade poured me.
Boy, is Lauren going to have a field day with this one.
The reclaimed brick wall calls for my attention, my gaze landing on it so I can concentrate on my bitter thoughts. If he was truly in love with his girlfriend, wouldn’t that question have been the easiest one for him to answer? There must be a reason his defenses shot up seamlessly.
Right?
Or maybe I just need to accept the fact that everything I concocted in my mind was a fantasy. It’s some overly dramatic tale that only comes alive when it’s embedded in my mind. It’s not meant to unravel in real life.
No shit.
My eyes flick to the throng of people, heart tearing a little when there’s no trace of Cade. I suppose there will be other days when I can try to mold this little rapport of ours, but now there’s a threshold.
A harsh limit.
He has a girlfriend, Liv. The buck stops here.
I gulp the last of my ale, setting the empty glass down before standing from my seat.
My fingers bury into my belt bag, snatching a couple dollar bills to leave on the bar top.
Once I shrug my coat on, I sling my bag across my chest before traveling to the other end of the bar where Jake is serving customers.
My throat rolls with the mocking friction of the bobble chain between my boot and ankle.
What a joke.
Chucking the bite of the insult away, I snake between a few bodies to reach the bar counter. Jake’s head jerks my way, honey-colored brows arched in surprise. “You’re leaving already? No sour?”
I purse my lips, remorsefully shaking my head. “I appreciate the offer, but it’s about that time for me to curl up in a ball on the couch.”
“It was great to see you again. Come back, yeah?”
Eh … survey is still out on that one.
I nod instead of dousing him in my ridiculous problems, only to say, “I kind of wanted to ask a favor if you don’t mind.”
He swipes a credit card from a patron’s hand. “What’s up?”
“Could you walk me to my car whenever you have a chance?” I half-turn, pointing toward the tall window beside the front door. “I’m only a few rows back.”
His gaze follows my gesture, brows dipping for a moment before he nods. “Sure,” he says as he hooks a thumb over his shoulder. “Let me just run this card through and I’ll be right out.”
“Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.”
I spin around to park against the wall between the window and the door. I drop my head, adjusting my half-tucked brown sweater before retrieving my keys from my bag.
My palm glues to the pink can, temple leaning on the brick as I stare aimlessly at the dim bathroom corridor.
The high-pitched chuckles of a couple girls ring through the restroom door when it opens, their bodies hugging each other in glee.
They have to be around my age, give or take a few years, and there’s a strand of envy that rears its ugly head inside me.
I miss the carefree nights. The nights when I only had to think about the moment I was living in and not the “what ifs.” Sometimes it’s exciting to think about those parts too, but on evenings like this, all you want to do is take advantage of the time you’re granted.
I miss living in the moment.
“How was the ale?”
My head whips to Cade’s tenor, his body drawing closer as he rolls his leather jacket over his shoulders. His thick, short waves are on full display at the top of his head, the snapback now hooked around one of the belt loops of his jeans.
Anxiety clenches my lungs, but I’m not sure of the source. Is it his presence? The fear that he’ll walk past me and through these doors without a care in the world? The awkwardness when he sees Jake walking me to my car, thinking that I’m hitting on every man I see.
As if that would matter to him.
Before I can answer him, Jake’s stationing himself beside Cade. “You ready?”
Cade’s face gently folds with confusion, hands disappearing into his pockets as he looks over at Jake. “Aren’t you here ‘til closing?”
“Yeah, but I’m just walking her to her car.”
I mumble an “Oh god” under my breath, planting my temple on the brick again. Shutting my eyes, I will this entire evening to erase itself at this point.
“I’m heading out now. I’ll walk her,” Cade offers.
Great.
Can’t wait to hear more about his girlfriend.
My head peels from the wall, jerking a tight-lipped smile in Jake’s direction as I wave a small goodbye. “Thanks for everything. Have a good night.”
“No problem at all. Get home safe.” He returns the gesture, circling back to occupy himself behind the bar.
My legs kick into motion, the dread of this evening finally sucking all sense from me. The need to exit this brewery is too dire for me to care about someone walking me to my car anymore.
My boots hit the concrete, the brisk breeze tickling my skin under the nighttime sky. “Now you’re interested in one of my employees?” Cade asks, walking beside me.
“You know what they say,” I stretch out, “when you’re rejected by one man, move on to the next one.”
A mocking laugh tumbles from him. “Is that what they say, or is that just the type of girl you are?”
Anger rips through me, my body terminating all movement as I whirl to face him. My chin slopes up, eyes striking daggers through his as I seethe through my teeth. “Tell me, what type of girl am I?”
His six-foot-three frame pales my height when he leans into my space.
“One that likes attention,” he challenges, vaguely pointing a finger to the distance.
“You don’t seem to think about the evil that’s in this world.
You strut around in these pretty outfits, thinking it’s all fun and games, until one day you’re grabbing the wrong guy’s attention. ”
My fury reaches my palm, suffocating the mace in it. “You know nothing about me. You don’t know who I am, where I come from, or what I’ve been through. Maybe if you took two goddamn seconds to get to know me instead of judge me, you’d understand.”
The edge swimming in his icy blues dissolves, slowly replaced with a pang of guilt. And when his eyes drop to my hand, he says, “You’re carrying pepper spray again.”
“I already told you,” I demand, turning to continue the journey to my car.
“No,” he counters, curling a palm around my upper arm to angle me around. “You asked Jake to walk you to your car, and you’re carrying mace. Why? ”
I swallow the surge of heat his touch spreads across my flesh, eyes digging into him once more. “I guess if something did happen to me, I asked for it, right? Being that I act like such a slut for attention, I would’ve deserved it anyway.”
His eyes flare with resentment, the last trace of softness extinguished.
“Just like you said I know nothing about you, you know even less about me.” His hard jaw ticks as he brands me with his stare.
“You don’t know the shit I’ve seen and what I’ve done, and the last thing I would ever , ever think is something like that could be your fault. You understand?”
Our hearts beg to reconnect through bated breaths.
Chests pumping in tandem as our minds drive further and further apart.
It’s such a horrendous fate to be forced to succumb to, knowing everything that could be.
We’re an inch away from each other but occupying the same ends of a magnet. Never connecting in the way we need to.
This is the first time Cade’s opening up about my attack, the weight held in his eyes too heavy to miss. Only there are no secrets between us.
They’re our foundation.
“Take me somewhere,” I whisper, his gaze yanking me under a hypnotic trance. “Help me understand. I just want to understand you.”
And that was the truth.
My abrupt infatuation is chucked somewhere unknown, and I don’t even care to look for it after tonight.
Not only because he’s involved with another woman, but because this is all I ever wanted since that night.
I want to know him. His likes, his dislikes, what makes him laugh, and what makes him hurt.
If something more is able to grow from the seeds we’re planting, then that’ll just be an added bonus.
His Adam’s apple bobs, eyes roaming my face until the last strand of reluctance snaps inside him. A pinch of delight tweaks his mouth, and then he’s stripping his hand off me.
When he rotates in the direction of his bike, I’m trailing behind him. “You ever been on the back of a motorcycle before?” he asks.
I shake my head through a breath. “No.”
“Then you better hold on tight,” he warns, unbuckling a helmet from the seat of his Harley. “Here.”
He suspends the gear in front of me, my eyes volleying between it and his gaze for a couple seconds.
“You’re not getting on this bike without one,” he clarifies. “No helmet, no ride.”
“Do you have one?” I ask as I accept the hard shell.
“I have another at home,” he replies, sheathing both his hands in black gloves. Then he steps back to lean a forearm on the chrome handlebar. “Wasn’t really planning on riding with someone tonight, but I’ll go slower than normal. Wouldn’t want to shake you up on your first time, anyway.”
His palm flips upward, waiting for me to take it. I inch forward, heat popping between my skin and the fabric of his mitt, and he murmurs the first direction. Then my right leg swings over the seat.
My skirt bunches up, the image anything but innocent as I awkwardly shift my crotch along the rear of the vinyl. He crouches, palming a metal ledge at the bottom of the bike. “Plant your foot right here, and there’s a foot peg on the other side.”
I follow through on his next set of commands, my boots resting flat on both platforms. “Are they too small? It feels weird. I don’t kn—”
He chuckles lightly. “I promise you they’re not too small.”
My teeth ghost my bottom lip when he lifts himself from the ground. “Helmet on,” he mutters, spotting my hands as I slip it over my head. “You want to make sure it sits level and covers your forehead.”
His palms maneuver the shell until I feel pressure an inch above my brows.
Then his fingers pull the adjustment strap, the material gently biting into my skin under my chin.
He wiggles the equipment softly, ensuring my safety before he straddles the front of the seat.
Then he looks over his shoulder, pausing his mission. “Arms around me.”
Gladly.
A thrust of fire drives through me when my chest melts to his back, the cool leather of his jacket preventing me from thawing completely.
My hands are shy at first, palms settling lightly on his solid torso before he crisscrosses both forearms for me.
Then he retrieves his Suddora bandana from his pocket, fastening it around his head before starting the bike.
The jolt of the engine molds my body further into him, a deep pulsing “pop-pop” growling underneath us.
“You should ride on a motorcycle more often. It’s not a bad look for you.”
I smirk at the relaxed insinuation, my head rotating to the side so I can rest my helmet on his back.
Then he rides us off through the biting wind.