Chapter 24Olivia
Olivia
Two hours.
Two hours since I texted him, and nada.
I blow out a breath as I drop my bag on the table, running my fingers through my hair as I tread toward the fridge. Lauren’s Long Island Iced Teas sent her straight to bed, but between my dehydration and racing mind, I’m only interested in wandering around the kitchen with a boring glass of water.
My head snaps around when a dull rumbling vibrates behind me. I slightly tilt my chin up as my heart skips its next beat, slowly walking toward the table.
I rest my drink on the faux wood, unzipping my bag to pluck my phone out.
Cade: You didn’t come in tonight.
My stomach leaps, teeth nipping my bottom lip as I contemplate my next move.
Me: You seem to forget I’m not a beer person.
Cade: I guess I need to brew more cinnamon flavors.
Me: That’s a start. You could call one “The Liv.”
Cade: Noted.
Me: You got a late night tonight?
Cade: Here until closing.
The parking lot of the brewery is practically abandoned at midnight. Dark and desolate as one would expect.
My fingers fasten around the steering wheel, eyes catching two bodies sauntering behind the large windows of the brick building. Jake’s crewcut peeks into view when he exits the bar, and Cade taps him on the shoulder as he strolls past him.
If my mouth wasn’t salivating from dehydration before, it is when I see Cade’s charcoal, long-sleeved top hugging his torso above black jeans and boots. My pulse smacks against my neck, and I reach in the console tray for my phone.
Me: Don’t close up just yet? ??
When I peer back up, Jake escapes the glass doors before heading to his car. My eyes shuffle to Cade’s parked motorcycle, and there’s a tiny blur of white under the chrome bar.
My gaze pinches, and the image clears.
He still has it.
Just as my belly gallops, a larger movement sweeps over the scene.
I cut the engine when Cade strolls outside into the midnight. My body shuffles around, hands tucking my phone in my belt bag before settling the strap over my chest.
When I unlatch the handle of the car door, the weight of it subsides as Cade tugs it from the other side.
“If you need to go home, I can leave,” I say as my ankle boots touch the blacktop.
His forearm lays across the top of the door frame when he pins me with a smirk. “Really? You drove here at twelve at night to tell me that?”
I step away so he can shut the door, my lips tipping up when I respond, “It was the polite thing to say.”
“But you didn’t mean it?” he asks, playing along.
My smirk stretches as I shake my head. “Not really, no.”
I jerk my brows suggestively before traveling toward the brewery. Cade inserts himself at my side, reaching out to hold the entrance door open for me.
I shrug my bag and jacket off, placing them on the first table in my path. “This is cool. I can’t say I’ve been to a brewery when it’s deserted,” I confess. The amber lighting is weaker now, darkening the reclaimed brick on the walls.
“I’m not serving anymore, but if you really want something, I can pour it before I clean out the taps.”
My hands find the belt of my high-rise skinny jeans, and I pad up to the bar Cade’s now stationed behind. “I’m good, thanks,” I say, occupying one of the metal stools.
My elbow props up on the bar, cheek nestled in my palm as my hair cascades over my shoulders. Cade’s eyes glimmer under the light fixtures, and a timid smile lands on my face.
“So …” he trails, laying his large palms on the counter. “You started writing.”
I inhale, tangling both forearms on the bar top. “It’s really silly. I don’t have more than a small outline.”
His hand disappears behind his lower back, scooping a white rag from his jeans pocket. “It’s a beginning, nonetheless.”
“I guess I have you to thank,” I sigh. “You sort of inspired me, but it’s no big deal or anything.”
A breathy chuckle runs from him, his attention shifting to wipe the counter. “Even if it was a big deal, I’m not one to gloat. In case you didn’t get that memo yet.”
I tuck my lips as my gaze lingers on his face. His crooked smile shines a few of his perfect teeth, while a dark strand of hair slips onto his forehead.
All of it so flawlessly laced together.
“I can tell, trust me,” I finally tease.
Cade pops himself off the bar, tossing the dirty rag into a bin behind him. Then he plucks a clean one from his other back pocket. “Am I that horrible? I’d like to think I have some redeeming qualities.”
You’re perfect.
Absolutely perfect.
My eyes hood, pinning him with caution. “Okay, now you’re just fishing for compliments.”
His chest lightly bounces through a laugh, rugged fingers now wrapping the white cloth around one of the tap nozzles. “I think you assume too much,” he says.
My cheeks heat, the anxious rush sending my hand through my hair. But just as my chin angles with the motion, my eyes bore into his elevated forearm.
His left forearm.
His blemished forearm.
A few thick veins crawl over his sun-kissed flesh, my belly pitching at the sight of the white brand on his skin.
Long, thin, and raised.
“Where did you get that scar?”
The question sprints from my mouth before I can shove it back down my throat. My eyes snap to his face just as his body tenses, the extrapolated silence beating on my lungs as I wait for his next words.
His hand moves to the next beer jet, eyes never abandoning the task. “I got it in a tussle with a guy quite a few months ago.” I swallow thickly as my gaze remains unblinking, my stare bolting to the somber glow that’s hypnotized his eyes. “He attacked this woman. He had a knife.”
My lungs swell, and I swear I witness our hearts kissing before me. They finally meet, bursting a tender warmth around us. Stowed away feelings braid together, binding us with every weave of every emotion we’ve endured since that night.
Fear.
Grief.
Anger.
Hope.
His scar tells the story of us .
He took wounds that were supposed to be mine.
“Thankfully, I was there just in time.”
Cade’s voice slaps me from my trance, his body half-turning to toss the rag. “Thankfully, there are men like you,” I whisper, tears stinging my eyes.
“I don’t know about that,” he murmurs, sliding back up to the counter. “I think a better man wouldn’t have let you in his brewery after closing. Especially when he’s tied down.”
“Why did you?”
“Because when I look at you, I see everything I want.”
Our locked eyes suspend in a paralysis, waiting for a gauntlet to be thrown down on the polished concrete.
A challenge to his heart, provoking it to surrender.
But his jaw screws tight, icy-blue eyes sealing with regret before he walks off.
“Where is she tonight?” I ask, my uneasy stare trailing his movement.
“Working overnight at the hospital.”
He swipes up a tray of glassware, journeying with it to the end of the bar. My face tenses, eyes wandering around the reclaimed brick when I feel the barrier he’s building between us. “What’s missing?” I blurt out.
As soon as he sets the tub on the counter, he peeks his head over his shoulder. “What?”
I swallow thickly. “I don’t know, I just get this feeling. Maybe you want to talk about it?”
He crouches to stock the glasses on the shelf under the bar. “I’d rather not discuss this with you. Better yet, there’s not much to discuss anymore,” he answers, his tone clipped.
“Well, what am I allowed to discuss with you?” I snap, my insides shriveling at the thought that I might only be useful for eye candy and some flirty banter.
Fuck that.
The jangling of glasses strikes the air, the only noise for the next few seconds before Cade answers. “Not that.”
Resentment lathers his tone, but I’m not so sure if it’s because of me, or because of his dying relationship with his girlfriend.
I’m not sure which is the more dreadful truth.
My jaw sets as I step down from the barstool, my legs carrying me to the rear of the brewery. “I’m not a slut,” I demand. “I can be a friend. A really good one if you’ll let me, and I refuse to be treated like some floozy side piece.”
Cade harshly plants a glass on top of another before standing up. “Hey,” he fires back, palms curling around the edge of the counter. “If I thought you were a slut, I would never entertain the idea of you, so cut it out.”
His reassurance grounds me, the roots of our story wrapping back around my ankles as my heartbeat lifts from its idled state.
I turn to saunter over to the wall next to the end of the bar, mindlessly tracing the reclaimed brick with my finger. “Entertain what?”
When he falls mute, I tangle my arms in front of me. My chest heaves through a jagged breath, eyes still connected to the wall before my chin slopes toward the floor.
“I know what it’s like to be looking for something,” I say. “To crave something you’ve been tirelessly searching for. And when you finally find it, it’s out of arm’s reach.”
The tap of his heavy boots echoes louder with every step. My pulse bangs beneath my skin, my body jerking when I spin around and fall against the brick.
A quivering breath rolls off my lips when Cade slips in front of me, heat singeing my back as my gaze lands on his face. Those steel-blue eyes the sea I need to jump into before my soul completely burns to the ground.
“It’s the most excruciating pain,” I whisper. “But it’s the pain that lets you know you’re living.”
His Adam’s apple bobs before his rough palm cups my cheek. My eyes flutter closed, and I melt into the hot pressure of his hand.
My head absently angles up as my fingertips trace his tattered forearm. I lock my gaze on his untamed stare, electric sparks erupting when I caress the jagged skin. His throat cocks through clenched brows, and my brain begs me to release the truth.
But my heart can’t take the leap. My heart wants him just like this for as long as possible.
And I know that’s intense.
I know that’s senseless.
After all, my heart was bred for a wild love like this.