Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
CASEY
I had to wait a few moments before I returned to the table. I sat down, draining my water. I was parched, confused, and feeling anger toward someone I didn’t know.
I was sure if he hadn’t interrupted us, Jesse would have kissed me.
And it would have wrecked me in the very best way possible.
And I was a little angry at Jesse for leaving me and wishing he had kissed me.
But why would he?
“Another wine?” Chris asked.
“No,” I said, forcing a smile. “I should get going. I have an early morning.”
The table protested loudly, saying they wanted me to stay and we could enter the contest that would happen in a little while. I shook my head. “Next time.”
Chris stood. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
I was going to protest, then decided not to fight him on it. It was a nice gesture.
Outside, I inhaled the cool night air, helping to clear my head.
“You were good back there,” he said enthusiastically.
“Great song,” I replied. “Fun.”
At my SUV, I smiled at him. “Thanks.”
“Listen, can I take you out?”
“Out?” I repeated.
“On a date.”
“A date?” I said, wondering when I had become a parrot.
“Monday?” he asked.
“Um,” I hedged. “I don’t date much.”
“Dinner,” he said. “Monday.”
I didn’t know why I gave in. “Okay.”
He looked triumphant. “Can I have your number?”
I gave it to him, and he tapped it into his phone and sent me a message. “There. Now you’ll have mine. I’ll call you tomorrow and see you on Monday.”
“Okay,” I agreed, wondering why I had said yes. He was nice enough, but I wasn’t really interested.
Was I?
Then before I could move, he stepped forward and kissed me. A fast, quick press of his mouth to mine and he stepped back. “See you then.”
I was shocked. He’d kissed me without permission. As if it were his right.
I started to speak when I heard a set of tires squealing out of a parking spot across the street, the dark truck speeding away.
“Someone’s in a hurry,” I said lightly and got in my vehicle, locking the door. I started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, Chris having walked away already.
I didn’t like that he had kissed me. It made me feel odd. I would have to tell him that on Monday.
Sunday, I stayed busy, cleaning the apartment and adding the final coat of paint to the hallway.
Miller and Barney wandered from place to place, both adapting to Thorne’s pet door easily.
I felt strange walking through the connecting doors to his place to feed Miller, but I made sure to go directly to the kitchen and fill his bowls, then back to my place, closing the doors.
I was tired in the afternoon and lay down for a nap. My dreams in the night had been filled with hazel eyes, strong arms, and a longing I couldn’t identify.
My phone never rang, and I decided Chris had changed his mind. I wasn’t overly disappointed but a little surprised since he’d seemed so insistent.
I was in bed later that night reading when my phone chirped with a message. It was Chris, hoping tomorrow was still okay. He never said anything about not calling.
I stared at the phone, wondering if I should say something came up.
It felt funny confirming a date via text.
Call me old-fashioned, but he could have put forth the effort and called.
With a sigh, I agreed to go, typing my message.
He replied quickly, asking if I wanted him to pick me up, but I told him I would prefer to meet and he suggested the bar.
It was a central location, easy to get to, and no doubt a short walk from wherever he was taking me, so I agreed to meet him at seven.
He didn’t reply, and I stared at my screen, still unsure.
He was a nice enough guy, but I didn’t feel anything for him, other than the fact that he was amusing.
Yet a few times, his humor had a cutting edge I didn’t like.
And he didn’t come across as overly smart, but I could be wrong. Something told me I wasn’t, though.
Then I scolded myself. We hadn’t been alone one-on-one yet. Maybe he was a quiet intellect. I was being silly, judging him on a few jokes. He had a steady job and, aside from the unwelcome kiss, had been decent.
He wasn’t hot and cold. Angry one minute, teasing the next. Making arbitrary rules. Deserting me in a hallway after getting me worked up. He was a simple guy.
And simple was good.
Besides, it was just dinner.
I pulled into the parking lot at five after seven, hopping out of my SUV. Chris was already there, not looking pleased. “You’re late.”
“Five minutes.”
“I don’t like tardiness.”
I frowned. This wasn’t starting off well. “I’m sorry.”
He crossed his arms, frowning. “I’m hungry. I missed lunch.”
I nodded in understanding. “Hangry. I get it. Let’s drive wherever we’re going and get you fed.”
He looked confused. “We’re having supper here.”
“The bar?”
“Yeah. Monday is pasta night. My favorite. I come here every Monday.”
I felt a little disappointed at his lack of planning.
But I plastered on a smile and followed him into the bar.
We headed to a booth, and he ordered a beer.
I asked for water. As soon as the drinks were on the table, he told the waitress we wanted two specials and added that he was starving.
“Put a rush on that okay, woman?” he asked and smacked her butt as she went by. “Thanks.”
I stared at him. “That was inappropriate.”
He frowned. “I know Brittany well.”
I took a sip of water, tamping down my temper. “Not only that—maybe I didn’t want pasta.”
“It’s pasta night,” he grumbled.
There was an uncomfortable silence. I cleared my throat. “Did you come straight from work?”
“No. I went home and got ready. Made an effort.” His gaze flickered over me. “More than I could say for you.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Don’t you own a dress? We’re supposed to be on a date. Not going for yoga.”
I looked down. I wore a pretty pair of leggings with fancy trim. A blouse that had flowers on it. Flowers . My good shoes. I had dried my hair and curled it. I’d used eyeliner—it failed, but I tried. I put on colored lip gloss. I had thought I looked nice.
Better than nice.
“I don’t like dresses,” I said between tight lips. “Or your attitude.” I was shocked at his behavior. Where was the somewhat funny, seemingly decent guy from two days ago? I should have listened to my gut.
“Since I’m paying for dinner, I can have any attitude I like.”
The waitress came over, sliding our meals in front of us. A huge pile of spaghetti with meatballs was on the plate. Red sauce dripped over the edges. A basket of garlic bread was placed in the middle of the table.
My appetite was gone. I had no desire to sit across from Chris and listen to his complaining all night.
“Whatever you can’t eat, I will,” he informed me. “I assume you have a good appetite, given your, ah, figure, but I doubt you can polish it off.”
“My figure?” I asked.
“I usually like thin girls,” he said, talking with his mouth full, the sauce dribbling out the corner. “But I thought I’d make an exception. Cal said you were awesome and everyone was looking at you on Saturday, so I decided to overlook it. I just thought you’d make more of an effort. Be girlier.”
“Really.” He’d asked me on a date because other people looked at me. How flattering.
He shoved in another mouthful, chewing loudly. Unbidden, I thought of Jesse. He ate a lot, but he did it with manners. He chewed slowly, enjoying his food. He knew the purpose of a napkin.
He never once pointed out my flaws and said he’d overlook them.
“Are you going to sulk or eat?”
“Do you still have my number?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Lose it.”
Then I stood. I resisted dumping the spaghetti over his head since that would cause the waitress more work. I shoved the plate toward him. “Enjoy it.”
He reached over and grabbed my wrist. “Sit down.”
“No.”
He squeezed, and I winced in pain.
“I said sit down.”
I sat back down in the booth, pulling on my arm. He let go, glaring. The action knocked over his glass, and the remnants of his beer splashed onto the sleeve of my blouse. I grabbed a napkin to mop it up.
“Great,” I muttered.
“I’m paying for the meal, so eat it,” he snapped.
I leaned forward. “Listen, jackass. You tell me I didn’t make any effort.
You brought me to the same bar we were at the last two times for the pasta special.
That’s way less effort than I put forth.
You eat like an animal, and you’ve done nothing but insult me.
Now, I’m leaving, and if you try to stop me, I’ll scream so loudly, your eardrums will bleed.
Lose my number, and I don’t ever want to see you again.
” I narrowed my eyes. “And the next time you kiss someone, get their permission.”
His face darkened, but he didn’t stop me this time. I walked past the bar and stopped when I saw our waitress. She smiled at me sympathetically. “He’s not so good with women. You’re not the first.”
I slipped some money into her hand. I had a feeling he wasn’t so good with tips either.
I headed to my car.
I ended up at a bar just down the street called the Watering Hole. I parked at the back and went in, ordering a wine spritzer and sipping it slowly. The bar was quiet, and no one bothered me. I ordered another one and brooded.
What a jackass. He was rude, inappropriate, and thought far too much of himself. My worry about the underlying edge to his humor should have been my first warning.
I finished my spritzer and ordered a clubhouse but only nibbled it. I was a lightweight when it came to alcohol, and the drinks were making me sleepy. I paid my bill and headed to my car, sitting in the driver’s seat and feeling sorry for myself.
I also realized, even though it was a short distance, I couldn’t drive.
I cursed when I realized I’d left my phone at home so I couldn’t call a cab, and I didn’t want to go back inside the bar.
I made sure my doors were locked and slid my seat back.
I’d nap for a while and let the alcohol wear off, then I would walk home.
I dozed, startling awake at a knock at my window. I looked up, surprised to see Jesse standing there. Frowning, I opened the door, and he stepped into the space.
“What are you doing here? Are you stalking me?”
“I was driving by, and I saw your SUV. I also saw you sitting in it and wondered if you were okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“Why are you sitting in your car in the dark behind a bar, Casey?”
“My date didn’t go well.”
“I see. I wasn’t aware you were going on a date today.”
“He was an asshole.”
“I’m sorry.” He paused and leaned closer, sniffing me. “How much did you drink?”
“Only a couple of spritzers.”
“Spritzers? Do those count?”
I shrugged. “I’m a lightweight, and I didn’t eat much.”
“Driving under the influence? Do I need to make a citizen’s arrest?”
“I’m not driving,” I protested.
“But you could.”
I glared at him. “I’m reporting you for sexually harassing me.”
“I’m not harassing you!”
“But you could.”
He stared at me and started to laugh. “Touché. Move over, Casey. I’ll drive you home.”
“You have to work.”
“We had an extra man tonight. They’re covered. I was heading home since I still have lieu time.”
“Your truck.”
“I’ll get it in the morning. Scoot.”
I clambered into the passenger seat, and he waited as I got on my seat belt. “You really only had two spritzers?”
“Yes. But I hadn’t had lunch. And the asshole ruined dinner. And splashed me with his beer.”
He chuckled. “Prince Charming. You need to eat something, then.”
I shut my eyes. “I’m tired. I just want to go home.”
I thought I felt his fingers in my hair. “We’re going.”
“No,” I replied, pushing his hand away. “I’m mad at you.”
“Why are you mad, Pixie?” he asked quietly, the tone of his voice tender.
I couldn’t open my eyes. “You walked away Saturday night. You left me.”
He was suddenly close. Very close. He ran his nose down my cheek, his lips nuzzling the skin.
“I didn’t want to.”
“I didn’t want you to either.”
“What did you want?” he whispered.
“For you to kiss me,” I admitted.
And then I passed out.