4. Chapter 4 #2
“Where’s Dax?” I asked bluntly. I didn’t have time for any more of her bullshit.
Her eyes shifted down, ignoring me. Irritation mixed with a little liquid courage from the shot Ricky gave me.
I snapped my fingers in her face. “Hey!” I growled.
She sighed. “Why should I help you? Go find him yourself.”
Rage heated my tongue. “You know what? I don’t care. I’m done with this shit.” I peeled off the damp apron and flung it on the table in front of her.
I’d fulfilled my end of the bargain with Dax. I washed the dishes. I ruined my clothes. I just wanted to get the hell home and hoped Tara would be there waiting for me.
“You can’t just leave—” she started to say.
“I can do whatever the fuck I want. If you see Dax, tell him thanks for his understanding.” I turned away and stormed out the front doors of the restaurant, into the brisk night.
I was nearly two-thirds of the way to the Muni station when I spotted a trashcan and tossed my ruined heels inside it.
The Crocs might have been ugly and oversized, but I trusted them to get me home in one piece.
I felt a little guilty for taking them but decided their original owner had given up custody rights when they were handed to me.
The street was now quiet, lit by globe lights strung between buildings.
There were only a few passersby, none of whom took the time to look at me and notice how ridiculous I probably looked.
Even if they did, I was too tired to care.
I just needed to get as far away from Bianca, the restaurant, and its owner as I could.
By the time I made it to the bus stop, I was freezing cold.
My wet dress clung to me like a second skin, the chilly air making me shiver as I sat down.
For the first time since leaving the restaurant, I dug through my purse to find my phone.
I was disappointed and worried to see Tara hadn’t returned any of my calls or texts.
I wondered if she was already passed out in our apartment, or maybe she decided to stay the night with stupid fucking Chad.
Wouldn’t surprise me after the argument we had.
“If this is your way of quitting, you could’ve at least returned my shoes first.” I nearly jumped off the bench at the sound of the deep voice from behind me.
Dax stood a few feet away, shadows cast across the angular features of his sculpted figure. Despite the cold, a warm rush filled my lungs.
“These are yours?” I asked. Immediately I was annoyed with myself for taking the bait.
“I wear them when I spray down the kitchen mats.” He smirked.
“Of course you do.” I exhaled. “What are you doing out here? I thought the deal was if I washed the dishes tonight, then we’d be squared up.” Was he really here for the shoes? Shame washed over me at the idea of getting on the Muni barefoot. Tonight’s humiliation would never end, would it?
“It was. We are. It’s just…when Bianca told me you’d left the restaurant looking like a drowned cat, I wanted to see for myself.” His eyes trailed up my dress, and I suddenly felt very aware of how transparent the fabric was.
I felt my cheeks heat under the stare of his mesmerizing blue eyes, dark in the night. “I need to get home somehow, don’t I?” I gestured around the bus station.
His lips pursed, his expression unreadable. “You’re not taking the bus like that.” It wasn’t a question. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was supposed to mean, but a spark of aggravation lit a fuse inside of me.
“Actually, yes, I am. I am because I need to go home, take a shower, and pretend this fucking nightmare of an evening never happened. So, unless there’s something else you need from me, please feel free to leave my pity party.”
Just let me take the fucking Crocs and relish in my own misery.
“I’ll drive you home,” he said.
What?
“No, absolutely not.” I looked at him, guffawed.
“I can see right through that dress, Lucy.” His voice was rough.
Of course he could. It was his fault for not telling me to hit the drain switch on the dishwasher. That didn’t mean I was just going to get in the car with him.
“Well then I hope you’re enjoying the fucking show!” I said. I watched the grimace start to form on his stupid, frighteningly pretty face as the lights from the bus burst onto the street. The beam lit up the space between us, casting light on his features.
My pulse was racketing.
Just as the bus pulled to a stop in front of us, Dax ripped off his chef’s coat, exposing the sleek, built muscles of his tattooed biceps. Underneath, he wore a black T-shirt that seemed to accentuate every ridge of his abs. I tore my gaze away, standing to meet the bus.
“Stop, Lucy. Put this on.” He walked forward, thrusting the coat at me.
I stared at his outstretched hand, unsure of what to do. On one hand, I was freezing. On the other—what the fuck? I needed to get on the Muni.
“God, you’re a stubborn little thing,” he snarled. He reached around me, the heat cascading off his body, enveloping the prickly cold of my body. Wrapping the coat around my shoulders he tried to guide me away. “Just let me give you a ride—”
I withdrew, the black coat hanging down to the hem of my damp dress.
The bus was stopped, I had to get on it.
With one last glance at Dax’s striking face, I turned around and ran toward the opened doors.
I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I’d blame it on Ricky’s tequila sunrise shot, but as I hopped onto the step of the bus, I called over my shoulder, “Now I have your shoes and your coat, Chef. I guess Bianca was right, maybe I am a thief.” I climbed onboard, found a seat, and screwed my eyes shut as the bus pulled away.
That night, when I got upstairs to our tiny studio, I was dejected when I didn’t find Tara there.
Her suitcases were still only half-packed on the floor, and everything else was exactly how we left it earlier.
I kicked off the Crocs, and even though I wanted to get the damp dress off me, for some reason I didn’t want to take off Dax’s coat.
It was warm, and it smelled…like him. Not like the scents of the kitchen at Bellissima.
But something more—soft sandalwood with hints of eucalyptus.
It was intoxicating, and some wild part of me liked the fact what touched his skin was touching mine, though I couldn’t explain why.
Eventually, I took a warm shower and slipped into some underwear and my old Sublime T-shirt. I stuffed the coat in a drawer, not sure what to do with it. It was late, and I picked up my phone to send Tara one last text.