Chapter 13 #2
He snorts a laugh. I peak out of my palms and glare at him. He tosses me a playful wink, which actually does help lighten the mood.
Damnit. Now I can’t even be mad at him over it because I don’t think I have reason to anymore. “Does that make me a horrible person? That I just assumed you didn’t want to talk to me anymore?”
He shakes his head side to side. “Nope, but it does make you a very incorrect person.”
I quirk a brow at him and he gives me that sheepish smile that melted my heart once and threatens to again.
“Very incorrect because I’ll never want that. I’ll always want to talk to you because you’re still my favorite person in town.”
“Not your favorite woman?” I think back to the night we met. It’s actually never dawned me on that maybe he has a girlfriend or something wherever he goes all the time.
He chuckles. “It’s a tie between you and Agnes. It took a while, but I did eventually see her down by the creek. She’s pretty hot for a moose.”
I roll my eyes, but can’t fight the grin that spreads over my face. Just like that night two years ago, my resolve crumbles. Maybe because he’s still impossibly nice to me and maybe because he’s right.
“You’re still a dork,” I tease.
He lifts a shoulder. “Yeah, that shouldn’t be a surprise though. I haven’t exactly been up to much over the last couple years.”
“Yeah, my life hasn’t exactly been exciting either.”
We sit there for a moment and for the first time since we met, I don’t feel the urge to flee the room or take a verbal jab at him. Instead, there’s just a welcome silence between us. No angst, no tension—just calm.
“So, now what?” I ask, breaking that calm silence.
“I don’t know. You tell me, Shadow.”
OK. Maybe there is still some tension judging by how my body responds to that nickname.
“We could be adults and be friends that are honest with each other?”
He hums in thought. “That depends. You going to let me help you? Because friends help each other.”
“If by help me you mean let me keep your SUV longer, then sure.” I plaster on a way too happy, pleading grin, one so wide it makes my cheeks hurt.
He laughs. “I already told you that you could.”
“Alright then. I’m good with friends.” I extend a hand toward him. He looks down at my hand and a pleased grin spreads across his face, popping those damn dimples that haunt my dreams.
“Sutton Sterling, Pretty Boy. Nice to meet you.”
“Kelsey Rivers, local spewer of verb—”
“Nope. We’re sticking with Shadow. I already told you that’s too much of a mouthful.”
My eyes roll back but I still hold my hand out. He grabs it and shakes firmly one time. That skin to skin contact should not be as exciting as it is, but my body tingles nonetheless.
“Good,” he says. “Now that we’re starting fresh, I’d like to try and dig myself a new hole.”
I quirk a brow at him and he goes on. “Please take the damn apartment.”
I pull my hand from his and glare at him. “You’re seriously going to bring that back up?”
He turns his palms up. “I meant it. It’s empty and Slade never uses it.
So if you want to use it, I’ll gladly tell him to get a fucking hotel room because I’m going to blame him for this mess between us from now on.
I get it if you don’t want to and I won’t hold it against you if you turn me down, but I want you to know the offer is real.
I hate losing sleep as much as anyone. I’ve been in the restaurant industry long enough to know the hours are wild.
I’ve worked plenty of crazy shifts. Even if you just need it as a crash pad, you and Felix are welcome. ”
Looking into his eyes with a clear—well at least clearer—idea of where he’s coming from, I don’t think I can be mad at him.
I’ve also accepted that Grandma has been gone for years and the house won’t ever be my home.
I have processed all of that grief in the years since then.
If anything, having him be my physical manifestation of that grief, something tangible to blame, might have helped.
It was easy to picture him as some cat playing a game with me, his pathetic prey.
Knowing what I know now though, I just can’t blame him for this anymore.
So maybe I should accept it for what it is, a genuine gesture from someone who’s been nothing but kind to me.
I take a deep breath and put on a smile that doesn’t actually feel forced. “Fine.”
His mouth falls open and his eyes widen. His voice takes on an almost giddy boyishness that’s kind of endearing. “Wait, you’re serious? You’re saying yes?”
Even with all of my mixed feelings about that house and the restaurant, why should I make my life harder? I think another part of me was just saying no to spite him for so long and now I don’t have that excuse any more. I should say yes—for me.
I nod. “I accept your offer, but I know what real estate is worth here, even a spare room. I won’t be your charity case. Let me pay you or get your morning coffees or something.”
“You don’t have to give me anything.” That giddy boyish look disappears and I see that dead serious side again.
“I know that, but I want to.”
He sighs and looks around the room, like he’s searching for an answer. Finally, he looks back at me. “To be clear, you do not have to do anything. But if you want to, then fine. Do you still know how to bartend?”
I look at him with a teasing, skeptical grin. “Have you been spying on me, Pretty Boy?”
I have picked up random bartender shifts. You would have to really be paying attention to know that though, especially if you’re always at work or out of town as much as he is.
“I’m just observant.” His little smirk tells me I might be right though. “But hey, do you have my car keys?”
I furrow my brow. “Yeah, why? I thought you said I could keep it.”
He raises his brows. “Just give them to me for a minute.”
He holds out his open hand and I unclip my carabiner from my belt loop before handing them over.
“Thank you. See, was that so hard?”
“Do you always have to be so insistent?”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his keys and fiddles with them. “Do you always have to be so stubborn?”
Before I can answer that, he grabs my wrist and turns over my hand, dropping the car keys back into my palm.
“There. Now you have the key to that apartment. Use it whenever you want. If you have any questions, just text me.”
My eyes drop to my palm and I spot the new key on the ring.
Then my eyes track to where his hand is gently holding my wrist. Even though he’s barely applying pressure, I feel my pulse hammer under his thumb and the warmth of his worn skin.
Even now, his touch sends sparks up my arm and across the entirety of my body.
Then my eyes notice his knuckles. It’s been a while since I’ve looked that closely at his hands, but it feels like there are even more little scars littering the weathered backs of his hand.
Part of me wants to reach out with my other hand and feel each little ridge and bump under my fingertips, but I resist that urge.
“What makes you think I still have your number?” I challenge.
He lets out a low laugh and shrugs. “I still have yours.”
He says it like he already knows I never deleted it or blocked it and I hate that he’s right.
I’m almost ashamed to admit the number of times I scrolled to the bottom of my texts and found his and thought about texting him.
Then I would either second guess myself, thinking that there’s no way he would want to talk to me after I ghosted him.
Sometimes I would get past that self-doubt and click on the old text, then I’d see the address and go into a new cycle of being mad at him.
I don’t know if he senses my internal spiraling, but he lets go of my wrist and rasps his knuckles on the counter before standing up.
“Anyway, I should get going. No pressure if you want to crash there or not, but there’s a staircase behind the house that goes—”
“Yeah. I know where it is.”
He sighs and palms his face. “Duh. Of course you know that. Also if you insist on doing something to return the favor, we can talk about some shifts at Gloria’s later.”
“Thanks,” I say, mustering another sincere smile.
His eyes drop to my mouth and he clearly notices based on the way his eyes light up.
“There’s that smile.” His eyes linger on my lips before he sucks in a long breath. “Alright, well, I’ll see you around.”
He starts to walk away, but I stand to follow him. “Are you heading to the airport? I could give you a ride. I still have your SUV after all. It’s the least I can do.”
He smirks back at me. “Have you been keeping tabs on me too?”
Damnit. I walked right into that one.
He laughs before opening the front door and leaning against the door frame. “Just so you know, I don’t leave every weekend. I do actually enjoy being here. Tonight, I’m going over to TJ’s to hang out with him and Grace.”
“Oh,” I say, looking down at my boots. There’s still so much I don’t know about him I guess.
“And, Shadow?” Before I can look up, I feel his worn fingers graze the skin under my chin, tipping my face up to meet his gaze. That little bit of contact short circuits my brain and my lips part. “Get some sleep. I want to see you at your best when you come to Gloria’s this week.”
With that, he walks out before I can get my brain functioning enough to form a sentence like hey, don’t make me reconsider this absurd idea. Or is that apartment furnished? Do I need to bring my own towels and toiletries?
The door finally closes with a thud, jingling the bells above. I lock it and aimlessly walk to the sitting area by the fireplace.
What the hell was that?
I plop down into the big, oversized leather chair—the one that Sutton was just waiting for me in—and try to unravel this new development.
It feels like my world is off its axis. My mind starts to race and my thoughts go back to all the things he did that irritated me.
I start to overanalyze each one, processing them in this new light.
My car, the little birthday desserts, the way he always offers to hold the door for me or grab the boxes of coffee when I’m making deliveries.
And I’m not even going to try to unravel offering that apartment as my own personal crash pad.
Maybe he was just being nice because that’s who he is.
Maybe that’s who he always has been? Shit.
I curl further into the chair and Felix hops up and joins me as my little spoon. I yawn and my eyes start to flutter shut. He was right. I should get some sleep. I’m tired and my mind is a mess after the day I’ve had. A little power nap before I meet Monica later wouldn’t be the worst.
I wrap my arm around Felix and lay my head against the plush arm of the chair. When I take a deep breath, there’s a lingering scent that soothes me to sleep—the familiar notes of charred wood and cooking spices.