Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
I don’t know what I’m doing here.
When I texted Jada about coming to the pub, we both thought it would be good for me to get out of my comfort zone for a little while. If I feel unsafe or uncomfortable, I can always leave and never attend another party again. Easy.
I didn’t notice something was wrong immediately. Charlie greeted me with an eager hug and said how excited he was that I’d come. He ordered me a drink and then introduced me to a couple of his friends. They were nice enough and didn’t seem to know who I was, which put me at ease.
That is, until I remembered the reason why I’ve always avoided parties and large social gatherings like the plague.
Phones. Phones everywhere.
Pointing at faces, at drinks, at bodies, at every single corner of this place.
Breathe in, breathe out. Again. And one more time.
It doesn’t work.
I hide myself in the shadows, as far away from everyone as I can without looking like a creep, and keep my head down. My fingers tremble slightly around my drink, and I hate myself for being this way.
“Hey,” a feminine voice says, loud enough for me to hear it over the music. When I look up, a long-haired brunette is standing in front of me with a smile. I remember her from earlier—Charlie’s friend Lola. “You’re Allie, right? I’m terrible with names.”
I give her a nervous smile in return. “Yes. And you’re Lola?”
She nods. “Sorry for disappearing earlier, but one of my friends was having a crisis in the bathroom,” she explains. “She broke up with her boyfriend last weekend, and she’s not doing well.” She leans in and whispers, “He’s here tonight. With another girl. ”
I wince. “I hope she’s okay.”
Lola shrugs and takes a sip of her drink before she says, “We’re all plotting his demise as we speak. You can participate if you want.”
Something unknown but not entirely uncomfortable settles inside of me.
Growing up, my friends were scarce. At school, my classmates had the wrong idea about me and my life. I’d never felt a genuine connection with any of my so-called friends, never felt included in boy talks or the usual teenage gossiping session. Not really.
I was always the freak. My parents made sure of it.
So the fact that this stranger is talking to me as if we’ve known each other for years, the fact that she approached me because she wanted to… I might sound pathetic, but I don’t know how to act or what to say. What would be appropriate? What would be considered awkward?
Just be yourself is what Jada would advise me to do.
Sometimes, it’s not so easy.
“So, you work with Charlie?” she asks, a teasing smirk on her lips. “Tell me he’s not as annoying at work as he is outside of it.”
I let out a genuine chuckle. “I wouldn’t say he’s annoying. Dramatic, though? Every minute of every hour.”
“Gotta love him as he comes.” She takes another sip of her drink, and I mimic her. “Charlie told us he invited you to our parties a few times.”
Her voice doesn’t hold any accusations, but my shoulders still tense up. “Yeah. I… I’m not big on parties. I wasn’t going to come today.”
“What changed your mind?”
I decide to be honest. “A friend convinced me.” I omit the fact that said friend used to be my teacher because that would lead to many questions I’ll never be ready to answer.
Lola gives me a conspiratorial smirk. “Is he here tonight?”
I frown. “He?”
“The friend who convinced you.”
“Oh, no. She’s a woman, and she doesn’t live in the area.”
She looks genuinely confused by that, which confuses me even further. “I just assumed… I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I assure her. “Why did you think it was a guy friend?”
“I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry,” she apologizes again, her big eyes pleading. “It’s just that there’s a guy over there who hasn’t stopped looking at you since you got here, and I thought…” Her eyes widen. “Do you know him? If you don’t, don’t worry. You can stick with me and my friends, and we’ll call the police or something. I’ll drive you home.”
Her words come out so fast, it takes me a second to process everything she’s saying.
A guy is looking at me?
My eyes find his a second later, as if a magnetic pull had worked its magic on me.
“I know him,” I tell Lola. “He isn’t a creep or anything, don’t worry. But thank you so much for offering to help.”
“Of course. That’s what us girls are for,” she says with firm conviction. “You can still hang out with us, by the way. Or if you want to go talk to your friend, that’s all right too. Just come find us if you need us, yeah?”
Maybe her sweetness should overwhelm me, but instead I can’t wait to tell Jada about it in the morning. I made a friend.
I give her a genuine smile. “I will. Have fun with your friends.”
She winks. “And you have fun with yours.”
I don’t know about that.
Sitting in a corner booth alone and hidden in the shadows, Travis doesn’t look like he’s having a lot of fun. As I walk toward him with no clear plan in my head, I wonder if he’s waiting for someone. If he’s waiting for a woman. He doesn’t strike me as the partying type, so why else would he be here?
I let myself fall on the seat in front of him and set my half-empty drink on the table. He’s nursing a bottle of water, which only confuses me further. Who comes to a pub alone and doesn’t order a drink?
“Hey, Travis.”
He tips his head. “Allie.”
I’m very aware of the people around us. Their phones, their cameras, pointing in so many directions at once, it’s impossible to tell if I will be in the background of any of their pictures. The mere thought makes me want to run away, which prompts me to swallow down the rest of my drink. I might need another one.
That, or a distraction.
For my liver’s sake, I choose the latter.
“Are you here with someone?” I ask him, the alcohol letting my tongue be a little more loose than usual.
I’m a lightweight, and whatever they put in that drink is doing what it’s supposed to. The chances of embarrassing myself in front of the only man I’ve felt a sliver of attraction for in the past decade are at an all-time high.
“A couple of friends.” A pause, in which I ignore the way my shoulders sag with relief that he didn’t say a woman , and then he asks, “You?”
“Charlie invited me, but I haven’t seen him in a while.”
Maybe this is the alcohol talking, or maybe I’ve officially gone insane. All I know is that, before my brain can process what I’m about to do, I stand back up and tell my boss, “Let’s go. I want to kick your ass at darts.”
“Darts?” he repeats in that gruff voice I’m not used to hearing outside of The Lair.
“You’ve played before, right?” We have a dartboard at the bar along with a pool table, but I’ve never seen him play either.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he maneuvers that enormous body out of the booth and takes a step forward until his shadow is cast over me. I’m met with a chest so wide, it stretches the material of the long-sleeved dark T-shirt he’s wearing.
“You’re asking me if I’ve played darts before?” He tilts his head to the side, a silent challenge glinting in his eyes.
This is new. I’ve never heard Travis sound almost playful.
I smirk, not breaking eye contact. “Well, have you?”
A low chuckle escapes him. Travis shakes his head as if he can’t believe my question, and I swear this is the most amusement I’ve seen him show in a year.
He gestures to the back of the pub. “After you.”
I don’t see Charlie or Lola on my way to one of the dartboards at the back, but I do spot Travis’s friends, including Josh, the birthday guy. Another group is playing pool nearby, but otherwise we are alone. The butterfly in my stomach is extremely aware of this fact.
“Want to invite your friends?”
But he shakes his head. “They’re too busy trying to go home with a woman tonight.”
And you aren’t?
I remind myself once again, heart racing, that Travis’s love life is absolutely none of my business. I’m probably saving myself from heartbreak by not prodding, too.
“All right. Let’s throw a dart to see who starts,” I suggest, grabbing all the darts and giving him half.
My boss stands tall, his eyes never leaving mine. “You go first.”
“I don’t mind going second.”
“I insist.”
Does he have to be so considerate all the time? First walking me to my car, then stocking pads and tampons in the bar’s restroom, and now this? I’m aware that this is probably just basic decency, but I’m used to less. Way less.
When I told him I would kick his ass, I wasn’t messing around. For someone who didn’t play darts once growing up and only got into it thanks to a cheap board from the grocery store, I’m pretty amazing. The evidence lands on the outer ring.
My smug smirk doesn’t go anywhere as I look back at Travis, whose own smile is almost nonexistent, but I think I see it. “Impressive.”
I beam at his praise, but my pride doesn’t last very long. A moment later, Travis’s dart hits the bullseye with such minimal effort, I would believe him if he told me he was the International Dart Champion.
The worst part is, he doesn’t say anything as he moves behind me, giving me space to throw my second dart. He knows I’m not going to kick his ass anytime soon, and he’s enjoying every second of it.
The look I send him over my shoulder is nothing short of dirty. “Traitor.”
He chuckles again, which must mean he’s truly coming down with a fever. I don’t think I’ve seen him this laid-back ever. “Come on. Kick my ass.”
He’s teasing me. Travis is teasing me.
“Oh, I will.” I won’t, and we both know it. But because I have a thing for embarrassing myself, and my lips work faster than my brain, I blurt out, “How about we make this more interesting?”
He arches an intrigued eyebrow at that. “Interesting how?”
Shut up while you can, Allie.
He’s your boss.
“How about…” My heart is beating so fast, I’m afraid he might be able to hear it. “If I win, you’ll have to wear one of my bracelets for a month. I’ll make you one.” I show him my wrist, where the tiny beads of my white-and-pink handmade bracelet glint under the dim light of the bar. “Deal?”
He gives me a curt nod. “And if I win?” he asks as if he already knows that’s going to be the case. He might not be wrong.
I shrug. “I don’t know. What do you want?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t be boring.”
“I’m not boring.”
“Only a bit.”
“Fine.” He shifts on his feet. “If I win, you’ll tell me why you dye your hair brown.”
My mouth turns dry. I knew Travis was going to think something was up when he saw me trying to hide the boxes of dye the other day, but that didn’t mean I expected him to actually bring it up. And still…
I don’t want to lie anymore. I’ve done it enough times, and with every big or little lie, a part of me withers.
But I can’t just tell him the truth. I can’t .
I’m not lying because I think it’s fun or because I’m bored and want attention. Trust is a luxury I can’t afford anymore, and even though I know Travis, I don’t know him. I can’t risk it.
“Are you sure you want that to be your prize?” I ask, begging my voice to sound nonchalant. I don’t think I’m too successful.
“That’s what I want,” he says with no hesitation.
I force a smile and fidget with my dart. “All right.”
Maybe I shouldn’t agree to something I don’t want to do, but the knowledge that I can always lie about it calms me and makes me nauseous all at once.
Why do I have to keep hiding? I reached my destination. Maine is where I wanted to be. Wasn’t I going to start anew?
I promised.
As I position myself in front of the dartboard, I realize it’s too late for that. Every person I’ve met in Bannport who I care about—Charlie, Jude, Sandra, Travis—knows a version of Allie that isn’t real. Not fully. If I told them the truth, they would never see me in the same light. They would never forgive me, would never trust me again. I can’t back down now.
Anxiety gets the best of me, and my dart lands on the thirteen double ring. Not bad, but not my best. When I turn to Travis, his face has no traces of smugness anymore.
I give him a weak smile. “Your turn.”
Travis takes my spot in front of the dartboard and throws his dart toward the wall.
He turns to me. “Oops.”
Oops—
What the hell is he doing?
“You did that on purpose.” I cross my arms, pinning him down with a glare that isn’t at all intimidating. “It doesn’t count. Do it again.”
“Okay.”
Another dart hits the wall.
“Travis,” I warn.
“Allie.” He sounds bored.
This man . “Fine. If this is how you want to play, let’s play.”
I’m not mad at him, only confused. Why would he miss on purpose, like he wasn’t acting all cocky a minute ago?
Whatever. If he wants to be childish about this, I’m game. My next dart hits a neon sign with the words “Drink your sorrows away” on the wall. His lands straight on the sticky floor.
A minute later, all our darts are scattered everywhere but the board.
“That was a shit game,” I tell him, although I haven’t had this much fun in a while. Who knew throwing darts at the wall with my boss would help me get my mind off things?
He only shrugs those wide shoulders and gestures at the board with his bearded chin. “Looks like you won.”
“What?”
“I hit the bullseye, but you scored more points overall,” he clarifies. He swallows the distance between us, those molten eyes landing on my wrist. On the bracelet around it. “Green is my favorite color.”
Green . “Like your eyes.”
I realize my mistake a second too late. There’s no use in hoping he didn’t hear me because the look he’s giving me tells me all three words were loud and clear. Not once in fourteen months have I seen his eyes look like this—dark, intense, like they’re trying to pierce my flesh.
I overstepped. It was a weird thing to say, and I?—
“You can use white too,” he says, his voice sounding a lot throatier than before. Or maybe it’s just my deranged head. “So it matches yours.”
My tongue feels like sandpaper, and I’m not sure even the shortest of words could come out if I tried.
A ridiculous thought pops into my head—did he lose on purpose so I would make him a bracelet?
Or did he notice my awkwardness about the hair dye and regret his prize choice?
Both?
As we make our way back toward the front of the bar, Travis stays close. He isn’t touching me but remains a comforting presence by my side.
Charlie spots us then and, to my surprise, doesn’t bat an eye at me and Travis being together.
“Hellooooo,” he drawls. That explains it—he’s drunk out of his mind. “Allie, my favorite girl ever. Are you having fun?”
I can’t help but smirk. “Not more than you.”
“Boop,” he says as he boops my nose. “See? I told you coming was a good idea.” When his smile turns playful and his eyes glaze over, I can almost sense what he’s thinking before he says it. “Coming is always a great idea. Don’t you agree, boss?”
I burst out laughing at how ridiculous this conversation is, which makes Charlie laugh too. I don’t think he knows why we are laughing in the first place, which makes me laugh even harder.
“Did you come today, boss?” Charlie asks next.
But Travis, to no one’s surprise, doesn’t find any of this funny.
“Charlie,” he warns.
“Hey, I’m not working,” he argues. “Am I not allowed to be your friend when I’m off the clock?”
“I don’t befriend my staff.”
If Charlie is affected by Travis’s words, he doesn’t show it.
Me, though? That’s another story.
I don’t befriend my staff . But he plays darts with them?
“Aw, don’t be so mean. We are all friends. Although maybe some more than others.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me, as if there’s an inside joke I’m not privy to.
“All right. Enough.” Travis cuts him off. His hand lands on my back, guiding me forward. “See you tomorrow. Don’t come to work with a hangover.”
Before Charlie can answer, Travis is already directing us toward the exit. A moment later, we are met with the cold night air, and Travis drops his hand from my back. “Do you want to go home or go back inside?”
I don’t befriend my staff . Why am I still so hung up on his words? This isn’t new information. He might act a little less like an asshole to Jude and Sandra, but they aren’t super close either. Making friends at work isn’t his thing, and I get it, but…
“Yeah, I’ll just…” I point to the dark parking lot. “My car is right there. You can go back to your friends. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I don’t look back to see if he’s following me, but I don’t need to. His heavy footsteps echo behind me until it’s impossible to focus on anything else.
Why is he doing this? Making sure I get in my car safely every single time doesn’t align with his “I don’t befriend my staff” policy, and it only confuses the butterflies in my stomach even further.
Just as I’m about to open the car door, his voice breaks the silence of the parking lot. “Don’t forget my bracelet.”
I give him such a small nod, I don’t think he sees it. “I won’t. See you tomorrow, Travis.”
He will get his bracelet because I don’t break my promises, but when it comes to Travis, I shouldn’t forget where we stand. If he doesn’t befriend his staff, then I shouldn’t try to befriend my boss either.