Chapter Eleven
“Indy, wake up,” the gruff whisper of a man echoes, but it’s not enough to pull me from the dream I’m having.
The rain pitter-patters against the window of my childhood bedroom while soft music plays through my headphones, but it’s not the normal songs on my playlist. No, right now, with Gareth on my mind, the only thing I want to listen to are the heartbreaking melodies of—
“Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey.”
I’m startled awake by the sound of a man’s voice in my bedroom—a man who certainly isn’t supposed to be here. When my vision focuses, I’m greeted by the sight of my brother’s face smiling down at me.
Quickly, I pull the covers up over my chest. I don’t sleep naked, but the thin white tank top and boy shorts won’t do much to hide what my sibling certainly doesn’t need to see.
“Dylan! What the hell are you doing here?”
Dylan laughs boisterously. “I leave today! Had to say goodbye before I leave you for a month.”
Reaching over the edge of the bed, I grab my oversized hoodie off the ground and tug it on. “Are you feeling better?”
“Good as new.” He grins. “Like I said, though, I definitely don’t recommend seafood from a street vendor.”
“I don’t know why you thought that was a good idea to begin with. I wouldn’t even get a hot dog from a street vendor.”
Dylan visibly shudders. He hasn’t had a hot dog in years because of a different bout of food poisoning.
“What time is your flight?” I ask, tugging on a pair of sweats.
He turns around so I can get them on completely. “In an hour.”
“An hour! Dylan, you should already be at the airport!”
He waves his hand at me. “Nah, they just like to say that to scare you. I have TSA PreCheck, and haven’t had a plane leave without me so far.”
“Awfully ballsy for a guy with a layover. You can turn around now.”
He chuckles, stepping toward me with his hands outstretched. “I’ll be fine, but if it makes you feel any better, I’ll head out. Give me a hug.”
“I’m going to miss you!” My voice comes out garbled, face smushed into his sweatshirt. “Please be careful over there.”
“Don’t worry about me, sis, I’ll be just fine. You be safe here though. I’ve enlisted Gareth as your designated older brother to make sure you are eating, drinking—water—and are safe at work.”
Knots form in my stomach. Designated older brother? Fuck my life.
“Gareth doesn’t have to do that. I’m a grown woman, Dylan. Fully capable of taking care of myself. Plus, he doesn’t even live in Ridgewood.”
“A little drive time didn’t seem to bother him when I asked! Gotta run.” He side hugs me again and presses a kiss to the side of my temple.
“Be safe!” I call after my brother as he practically runs from my room. My front door slams shut, and I sink back down onto my bed.
I push the heel of my hand into my eyes. There’s no way Gareth would take Dylan seriously and become my personal…what, babysitter?
Designated older brother.
If Dylan only knew that the things Gareth and I want to do to each other are not the least bit sibling-like.
A sense of dread sits heavy in my chest as I wipe the fog away from the bathroom mirror, still steamy from the scalding shower I just stepped out of. Water droplets roll down my skin, some stopped by the towel wrapped around my body.
Squeezing out the excess water from my hair, I stare at my reflection.
I’m not in the mood to go into work tonight.
The thought of dealing with handsy men and the attitudes from entitled women sounds like a giant chore.
Ladies’ night is always the worst night of the month, but Rosie insists on continuing them because profit is always so much higher than a regular night.
My phone vibrates on the counter next to the makeup strewn around. I don’t have to glance at it to know it’s him.
I’ve been waiting for Gareth’s text all day—I’m surprised it didn’t come earlier.
When I abandon my hairbrush, the saturated strands of pink straight and cold against my shoulder, I finally open the text.
Golden Boy
What time are you off work tonight?
Rolling my eyes, I pick up my makeup primer and rub it into my skin. While I let it air-dry to tacky, I run my hands under the water to remove some of the product, then text him back.
What’s it to you?
Next I apply my foundation, pressing the blending sponge over and over until I’m satisfied with the coverage.
Trouble…
A smile creeps across my face, but I shoo it away. I need to do a better job of keeping him at arm’s length. After dinner last night, all bets are off.
I can feel it. Something changed between us—shifted. If I want to preserve my loyalty to Dylan, I have to pull my armor on. Remind both of us why this is such a bad idea.
My phone vibrates against the counter again.
I promised your brother I’d make sure you were safe.
The laugh that rumbles from my lips is cold and humorless. The familiar shield of bitchiness hugs me like an old friend.
Not only am I 100% confident he’s not even in Thailand yet, I’m also not interested in being babysat. Leave me alone, Gareth.
Flipping my phone over, I ignore it as best as I can despite it buzzing immediately after. My makeup won’t apply itself, so I turn back to the array of bronzer, blush, eyeliner, shadows, and mascara, and set to work.
By the time I’m swiping on my crimson lipstick, I can’t take it anymore.
You work at a biker bar. It’s less babysitting and more personal protection detail.
My fingers fly across the screen.
You’d last ten minutes at the biker bar, Golden Boy. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.
You and Dylan act like he’s there every night to walk me to my car. I can’t even remember the last time Dylan came in for a drink.
A vast sea of black greets me when I slide my closet door open and reveal my clothes. Knowing it’ll be a long night, I grab my favorite pair of black jeans and pair them with a see-through black lace top and dress quickly, completing the look with my favorite pair of black boots.
Grabbing a leather jacket, I toss it over my shoulders, then look around for my purse.
My phone buzzes again, and like an idiot, I immediately look.
I just want to make sure you’re safe.
There’s an ache in my heart, the soft organ betraying me yet again.
Why the hell does he have to be so perfect?
Lodging a knife in my own heart, I choke on my next words as I type them, hitting send quickly.
It's not your job to worry about me. I have a boyfriend, remember?
Locking my condo door behind me, I walk to my car, clicking the key fob twice to unlock it before I slide into the driver's seat. I slam the door unnecessarily hard, then start my engine, letting it rumble awake.
Oh that’s right, Zach. How is he doing, anyway? Maybe you should have taken some leftovers home to him last night.
I laugh out loud, surprise causing me to shake my head in appreciation, lips pursing.
So Gareth does have teeth.
Dang Golden Boy, look who has a little bite.
Guess I've been spending a little time around a certain troublemaker. Picked up some claws.
A quick glance at the clock on my dashboard reminds me I’m running late thanks to this text exchange. I need to put an end to it, now, so I can get to work.
Silly you, doggies don’t have claws. Don’t come to the bar, Golden Boy. I can make it twenty feet to my car without your stellar bodyguard skills. Have a good night!
Tossing my phone face down on the passenger seat, I pull out of the driveway, spinning my ring as I think about Gareth the whole way there.
It only takes me ten minutes weaving through Ridgewood’s downtown, following the familiar glow of the tall buildings and streetlights.
The night’s still young, and the small parking lot hasn’t filled up yet, so I slide into a spot near the front, grateful to be up close. It looks like there’s rain clouds rolling in, so who knows what it’ll be like out here by the time I’m off.
Killing the engine, I toss open my door, grabbing my purse and phone off the seat next to me. I slide my phone into my back pocket and tuck my purse under my shoulder as I step out, locking up behind me.
My eyes scan the parking lot like I always do, checking my surroundings. Pushing open the door to the bar, I glance behind me one more time, that feeling of being watched prominent and making the small hairs on my arm stand on edge.
Further down the street, I swear I can see a silhouette leaning against a car, but it’s too far to make out who it could be.
But I already know.
My phone vibrates in my back pocket—but I don’t look.
I go inside the bar, pushing down another smile as it touches my lips.