Chapter Five
CHAPTER FIVE
I ’d been in Ocracoke for only a handful of hours, but I was already racking up an alarmingly long list of regrets.
Number one on my list was saying yes to dinner with a smoking hot mystery man who turned out to be Marin’s future brother-in-law.
A close second was choosing to tell her about it.
“I can’t believe the guy at the bar turned out to be Zander!” she nearly squealed as we sat, huddled together, on one of the plush velvet sofas in the coffee shop, waiting for our order.
“You already said that,” I muttered.
She’d said it more than once actually. In the car. On the way here. In the line before we ordered.
It’d taken her a few minutes to get over the roller coaster of emotions she was riding in regard to her fiancé’s long-lost brother returning, but once she processed all of those, the focus had quickly shifted to me and the long-winded story I’d told her just an hour earlier about the hot guy I’d ditched at karaoke night.
“So, wait,” Marin said, her back turned as she scooped coffee grounds into her fancy coffee maker. It was a gift from Macon. Coffee was kind of their thing because it reminded them of their meet-cute. It was adorable as hell—in a barf-inducing sort of way. “I thought you went to the rental after you left here.”
“I did,” I assured her, already knowing where this train of thought was leading. “But a girl needs food, Marin.”
“We could have fed you.” She looked a little forlorn as she turned back around, having set the machine to brew.
“I know that, babe. But I am going to be here for three weeks. I don’t want you to get sick of me right off the bat.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to get sick of you,” she promised, leaning against the cool granite.
I smirked as I took in her long black leggings and oversized blouse. Only she could pull that off and still look put together.
“We’ve been friends for half our lives. Pretty sure if I was ever going to get sick of you, it would have happened during those years we shared a bathroom.”
I grimaced. “Don’t remind me.”
To save money, the three of us—Marin, Daniel, and I—had thought it’d be a brilliant idea to share an apartment.
Spoiler alert: it was not.
Sharing a space with a couple, especially a couple that included my brother, was like willingly subjecting myself to torture every night.
Or day. Or mid-afternoon. ’Cause those two fucked like damn bunnies in heat.
I’d heard things. So many things.
“So, you went to get food and ended up at Gavin’s place? On karaoke night of all nights?” Marin asked, rerouting the subject back to my crazy night.
I’d come over here to help her with the seating chart for the wedding, and we were both doing an A+ job of avoiding it.
“Yeah, well, Macon said the food was good,” I lied, not wanting to explain my weird need to be surrounded by people when I wanted to be alone.
She shrugged. “Billy’s is better than Taps, but go on.”
Billy’s was better, but it was also familiar. There was no way I could disappear at a restaurant owned by her next-door neighbor.
“Anyway,” I went on, “I took a stool at the bar and ordered a glass of wine, and this guy came up to me and started talking to me about music, and eventually, we got a booth.”
That was the Reader’s Digest version of what had happened, but it would do.
“This sort of shit always happens to you.” She gaped at me.
Now, it was my time to roll my eyes. She thought stories like this were thrilling, like I was Carrie Bradshaw and this was my real-life version of Sex and the City , but she wasn’t the one who went home after endless bad dates, feeling miserable and alone.
There was nothing glamorous about it.
“He seemed nice, and it wasn’t like I was going to sleep with him,” I reiterated, mostly for myself.
“He was hot, wasn’t he?” A knowing grin spread across her face.
I looked anywhere but at her, but finally caved. “Yes, okay? He was fucking gorgeous. Like, Adam Levine fine.”
“Tattoos and everything?”
I nodded.
“Wait, are we talking blond Adam, sophisticated Adam, or, like, shirtless-rock-star Adam?”
I stared at her blankly. “I didn’t realize you had such an Adam Levine fetish.”
She laughed. “I’m just asking.” She paused. “For reference. I need to make sure I get the right picture in my head. Details are important.”
I smirked. “Mmhmm. Well, he definitely wasn’t blond. Or shirtless.”
“Well, that’s unfortunate. For you,” she clarified with a laugh.
“He actually looked kind of like he was hiding. Maybe he was a celebrity.” I giggled. “You know, with how they wear baseball caps and hoodies.”
“You mean to tell me you could have hooked up with a celebrity and you didn’t?”
“I told you,” I huffed, sitting up straighter on the stool while she moved around the kitchen, grabbing us mugs. “This was not a hookup, and he was not a celebrity.” At least I didn’t think he was.
She glanced back at me, giving me a mischievous grin.
“Besides, I have a man ban for this vacation.”
She fully turned, two mugs frozen in her hands. “A man ban?”
I nodded. “Yep. No dates, no hookups. Just me and my trusty battery-operated boyfriend.”
She grimaced. “Gross.”
“Self-care is not gross, Marin. How many times do I have to tell you this? Just because you have a permanent man in your life now doesn’t mean you don’t have to stop ? —”
She held out her hand, silencing me. Marin had always been a little shy when talking about sex, which always amused me—because like I’d said, I’d heard things, and Marin was not innocent.
Not. At. All.
“So”—she overemphasized the word, making me laugh—“you and this mystery man just ordered food and talked? What was his name?”
I shrugged. “I told him I didn’t want to know. No names, no personal stuff.”
“That’s…weird.”
“It was nice.” Although I was a little sad about it now.
“And then the two of you just parted ways?”
I bit into my bottom lip. “Well, not exactly. He asked me to leave with him, and in a moment of weakness, I said yes.”
Her eyes perked up. “I knew it! Man ban be damned!”
“I ditched him.” I grimaced. “When he was paying for our food, I wrote a note, apologizing, and ran out before he could come back.”
Marin stared at me, speechless.
“I know. I’m horrible. But I freaked, okay? All I could think about was all the horrible dates I’d been on recently, and then the last conversation with my mom about how frivolous I was came roaring back and ? —”
Her face softened as she placed a mug in front of me. I’d finally gotten the courage to tell her about my true parentage six months ago. I’d been carrying the secret for years, unwilling to burden her with anything more. She’d taken it better than I’d expected, although I worried that I’d caused an even bigger rift between her and my parents with the revelation.
“It’s okay. Honestly, it was probably for the best,” she said.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Well, if you’d met some awesome guy and started a passionate affair, who the hell would help me with this seating chart?” She grinned, and at that moment, I couldn’t love her more.
“All right. Let’s do this thing,” I said just as the doorbell rang.
“Why did he call you Louie?” Marin asked as our order was called, and we walked to the counter to grab our food and coffee.
I held up my bag, and she laughed.
“Miss Louboutin,” I explained. “Stupid nickname he picked up when I wouldn’t give him my name.”
“That’s adorable,” she said with a familiar gleam in her eye.
“Don’t you even think about it,” I warned.
“I knew Ocracoke was small, but, damn, running into Macon’s brother the night he arrives in town? That’s?—”
“Awkward?” I offered as I swiped the drinks off the counter.
Marin grabbed the giant bag of pastries, and I tried not to roll my eyes. I knew we had vacated the house to give the men time to talk, but did she have to buy out the entire store? A few bear claws would have sufficed.
“No,” she argued. “Awkward would have been if you’d slept with him and then found him standing at our front door this morning.”
At least I would have gotten a good orgasm out of it.
’Cause that guy looked like he knew his way around a?—
Nope, not going there.
He was Macon’s brother and Marin’s future brother-in-law.
As if that wasn’t complicated enough, his words from last night kept coming back over and over.
“I’m not here to mend fences.”
I chewed on my bottom lip as we headed back toward Marin’s car, my mind a minefield of emotions.
“So, what are you going to do?” Marin asked.
“Me?” I asked as we both hopped in.
She placed the big bag of pastries in the back seat as I held the drink carrier in my lap, hoping and praying nothing sloshed on my expensive linen pants.
“Nothing,” I answered. “I’m going to do absolutely nothing. He’s only here for the next day, right? That’s less than twenty-four hours. I can act like an adult for that long.”
What was it they said about famous last words?
“No, absolutely not!”
“Doesn’t he have somewhere else to stay?”
We both spoke at the same time, and I jerked my head across the living room and found Zander staring at his brother with a look of total outrage.
Wait, what?
Why would he say no?
This wasn’t his idea?
Marin and I had no sooner walked back through the front door than Macon hit me up with a ridiculous request—asking if I would mind sharing the rental house with his brother.
Is he crazy?
“My other two rentals are booked. Besides, it’s just for a day,” Macon added. “And…” His eyes turned to Zander.
“Don’t, Macon,” he warned, begging his brother to stay quiet.
“What?” I demanded. “What am I not getting here?”
Zander must have noticed the moment his big brother had decided to rat him out because he groaned loudly, his palms digging into his eye sockets.
God, even that was attractive.
Shut up, Elena.
“He doesn’t have anywhere else to stay.”
“What?” My eyes went wide, staring at him as he tried to avoid my gaze. “Where did you go last night after?—”
Macon’s eyes went wild, darting between his little brother and me. “Last night?”
Marin’s face turned the color of a tomato as she turned to her fiancé. “That was something I didn’t exactly get a chance to explain over the phone.”
Macon’s expression hardened, and he instantly morphed from loving fiancé to intimidating officer of the law. His intense stare pinned me down, even though he directed his words at Marin. “Explain what?”
If this was what it was like to be interrogated by him, just throw the cuffs on me now.
“Marin and Zander kind of met last night.” She swallowed as she fidgeted with her hands. “At the taphouse.”
“You…met?” Confusion turned to horror as his gaze ping-ponged between the two of us. “Did you?—”
“No!” both of us exclaimed as we ignored each other.
Macon stared at us, and I could tell he wasn’t at all convinced.
“We met at the bar, grabbed a booth, and had dinner,” I told him. “That’s it. I didn’t even know his name until this morning.”
“Do you usually not ask your dinner dates their names?” Macon asked before he held up a hand. “You know what? Not important. Getting Zander off the beach for the night? That’s my focus right now.”
I fought the urge to turn toward him, imagining him all alone on the beach while I slept in a big house, all by myself.
“He can stay with me.” I relented.
“No—” Zander tried to argue before Macon cut him off.
“Good. It’s settled.” He grinned, looking pretty damn pleased with himself. “Let’s eat. I’m fucking starving.”
After the four of us sat around Marin and Macon’s kitchen island, awkwardly drinking coffee and munching on pastries, I offered to take my new roommate to the rental so he could get situated.
He reluctantly agreed, and after a quick good-bye, we drove separately to the little yellow house Macon had aptly named Ochre Bay.
“I can’t believe Macon owns rental property,” Zander said the moment he stepped out onto the curb.
He reached into the back of his car and pulled out a black duffel bag and a large guitar case. I tried not to stare as his biceps bulged, the ink wrapping around his arm in a stunning piece of artwork that demanded attention.
“Why?” I asked as he slung the duffel over his shoulder.
No baseball cap today. With his messy hairstyle and mirrored sunglasses, he somehow looked even hotter than he had the night before.
If that were possible.
“We didn’t exactly have the easiest childhood,” he said as we headed down the walkway. “I don’t think either of us would have imagined…” He paused, staring at the house in front of him, his eyes distant.
I turned to him. “What you said last night…” My words were hesitant as I blew out a breath, trying to gather the courage I needed. Usually, I didn’t need it. I never had a problem being brazen with my opinion. Until him, it seemed. “You can’t do that to him, Zander. He?—”
A brief flash of pain painted his features before he gave a hollow shrug. “It is what it is,” he said, and then he walked away, leaving me there in the middle of the driveway.
With the code Macon had given him, he made it clear he didn’t need a tour guide and let himself in, not bothering to even glance back over his shoulder.
I let out a sigh and headed inside. As soon as I was through the front door, I searched for my new housemate but found myself alone.
I guess he is settling in just fine.
Looking around, I suddenly felt antsy. I wasn’t used to the feeling of having nothing to do. I’d brought him here to show him around, and now that I no longer had that task, I felt…useless.
I went to my bedroom and grabbed my laptop. Maybe I’d just check up on a few things while I had time.
Yeah, I know. I was on vacation. But…
Heading back into the living room, I tucked myself into a cozy chair and opened my computer, trying not to feel guilty for the four emails I’d already responded to.
It will only save me time in the long run, I told myself.
I heard him before I saw him.
“You doing anything important?” he asked as I turned my head.
I did a double-take. He was still in those black shorts and rock tee, but he had a sleek black guitar strapped across his chest.
I swallowed audibly.
What is it about a guy with a guitar?
“Uh, um… no. Just catching up on some work emails,” I answered, ashamed of myself for the girlish stuttering.
He is just a guy, Elena. You’ve literally met hundreds of them. He is not special.
Get a fucking grip.
“Aren’t you on vacation?” he asked as he took a seat. He positioned himself on the edge of the cushion, propping the instrument on one thigh, as if it was second nature. “Sorry, am I allowed to ask personal questions?” His flirty comment was a complete contradiction to the broody man who’d left me in the driveway less than an hour ago.
“Seeing as we’re living under the same roof now”—I rolled my eyes—“I’ll allow it.”
“All right, so you like to work on vacation?”
“No,” I answered too quickly before adding, “But I can’t just ignore my responsibilities while I’m gone either.”
“And what is it that you do that’s so important you can’t take a little time off?”
“I can take time off,” I argued.
“Clearly not,” he countered.
I huffed. “I’m a lawyer. Criminal attorney.”
That pierced brow lifted, and suddenly, I was left wondering if he had any other piercings. My eyes dragged down his body, and I felt heat sear my cheeks before I finally looked away.
“What do you do?” I asked, trying to focus my attention on my screen for half a second before giving up and looking up at him again.
His fingers began to pluck out a familiar tune, and before I got lost in the melody, I realized what he was saying.
“You’re a musician?”
“A guitarist.” He grinned. “I thought a lawyer would be smart enough to decipher what kind of instrument this is.”
I let out a sigh “I didn’t want to assume. You could play other instruments.”
“I can, actually. I play a little bass, and I can bang on the drums decently, but they only pay me to do this,” he said, strumming the guitar almost effortlessly.
This time, it wasn’t anything I recognized, but it sent shivers down my spine, and I found myself setting my computer down and turning to face him.
“So, are you in a band or?—”
“Session guitarist.”
“I don’t know what that means,” I confessed. “I dated a guitar player in college, but it was only a week, and honestly, he wasn’t much of a talker.”
“So, you are a groupie. I knew it.”
I laughed, shrugging. “I will admit, I did meet him at a concert, and he was in a band. But it was a one-time thing. After he stole shit from my dorm room while I was sleeping, I found myself miraculously cured of my”—I made air quotes with my hands—“‘groupie phase.’”
“Until last night, that is.” His grin was shameless.
God, those fucking dimples. How many women had he charmed into his bed with those?
“Whatever, Trouble.” I folded my arms across my chest, like I didn’t trust myself to stay put.“You asked me to dinner. Not the other way around.”
“I’m not denying that, Louie ,” he said, bending down over his guitar as he strummed out a melody. He looked up at me once more. “I knew what I wanted.”
That zing of energy pulsed between us. It was just as potent as the night before, but more intimate because, now, I knew him.
And that made it more dangerous.
“But”—he cleared his throat, placing his palm down on the strings, silencing the notes with the touch of his hand—“I guess it’s good that you decided to leave.” He didn’t look at me, his gaze fixated on the instrument at his chest. “It would have complicated things and?—”
“When are you going to tell him?” I asked, knowing this would most likely be the end of our conversation, considering the way it had gone last time I brought up Macon.
“Tomorrow,” he answered. “Like you said, I don’t want to ruin today for them.”
I nodded, my head turned toward the window.
“You won’t…” He paused, clearly sorting out his words. “You won’t tell Marin?”
I let out a pained laugh.
He was asking for a lot. Every time I had seen that hopeful smile on Marin’s face this morning, after hearing those words Zander had said last night, it’d felt like a betrayal.
“No. It’s hard to keep something like this from her, but I don’t want her to carry that burden today.”
“Thank you.”
“Look, I don’t know what happened between the two of you,” I started. “But could you at least?—”
But just like before, he rose from his spot on the couch and headed toward the hallway. “I’m gonna go rest up before the party. I’ll see you later.”
But unlike before, he never returned. He stayed in his room, and I didn’t see him for the rest of the day.