Chapter 1
Indie
Seven years later
“ T hanks for comin’ out tonight.” The room fills with light applause as I step down from the stool and place my guitar back in the hardshell case.
I’ve been doing gigs at this coffee shop, The Cozy Cup, more often now that I lost the job at Momo’s, the restaurant I was waitressing at down the road.
Moving to Alokin Falls right out of high school was a big step for me. Right before graduation, my dad was offered another job opportunity at his company that I knew he wanted to take. I also knew he wouldn’t take it if he thought he’d be uprooting me again, so I took the offer to move here with some friends who were looking for an extra roommate.
Dad was still hesitant, but I was eventually able to persuade him. The man has been selfless his entire life and deserved to go after the things he wanted for a change.
I’ve worked a lot of odd jobs over the years to pay the bills, but what I love most of all is singing here at the coffee shop and painting.
Art has always been an escape for me. Whether I’m playing my guitar or putting brush to canvas, it doesn’t matter. They are both very freeing for me, and I love that my two passions provide me with a small income. I don’t need a lot in life—just a roof over my head, clothes on my back, and food in my stomach.
The tips could never be enough to live on, however, so I’ll be back on the job hunt tomorrow. It would probably be a bad idea to use Momo’s as a reference since I slapped the shit out of the manager last week. I doubt he’d give me a glowing review after I turned down the opportunity to suck his dick for more hours, anyway.
“Amazing as always,” the blonde waitress chirps as she walks over to me with a cup in her hand.
I’ve only seen her in here the last two times I’ve performed, but she always looks so damn happy. We’ve talked a little here and there, and she’s honestly so sweet she makes my teeth hurt.
“Thanks.” I give her a quick smile and continue to pack up my things.
“Here, this is for you,” she says as she hands me the warm paper cup full of what smells like coffee.
“For me?” My brows scrunch.
“Yeah, that gentleman over there sent it,” she responds as she quickly points over her shoulder to an older man sitting at the bar. Her icy blue eyes bounce back to me.
“I’m Wren, by the way. I know we’ve only talked a few times, but I felt rude that I’ve never properly introduced myself.” She sticks out her hand and holds it in front of me as I stand from my crouched position.
Hesitantly, I take her hand in mine and give it a small, quick shake.
“Indie,” I respond, her smile becoming contagious.
Overly happy, friendly people usually annoy me, but something about this girl is unlike the others—I’m oddly not finding her annoying at all. Instead, I find myself curious about her. The sweet personality is drawing me in instead of pushing me away. I can tell this is a person it would be hard for anyone not to like.
“It’s nice to officially meet you, Indie.” Her blonde hair whips around as she turns to gesture over her shoulder again. “Pretty sure that guy wants your number.” She gives me a raised-brow smile. “I’ll let you get to your private business.”
She walks away with a smile still plastered on her face. The man at the counter locks eyes with me and shoots me a wink.
I inwardly cringe.
No, thank you.
As I make my way out the glass door, guitar in one hand and coffee in the other, I lift the drink toward the man and nod my thanks. Sensing he’s about to miss his chance, he quickly gets up and jogs in my direction.
Fucking hell.
“Here, let me help with that,” he says, reaching for my guitar as he pushes out the door.
“That’s okay,” I say, pulling it back from him.
No one touches my shit. Especially not some strange old man trying to hit on me.
“Come on, I’ll help you to your car,” he insists, trying to grab the case once again.
Pulling the case back, I put my other hand with the drink to his chest, stopping him and keeping him back.
With the coffee still in my hand, I point my finger up to him. “Do not reach for my things again,” I warn with a stern look.
His brows draw up, and his mouth parts as he searches for words.
“My boyfriend is gonna be here any second. I’m just waitin’ for him,” I lie— because I watch Dateline . I know how this goes. I’m not telling this strange man that I don’t have a car and I’m walking home by myself in the dark.
Is he cute? Sure. But I’m not really into older guys. I’m not really a ‘daddy issues’ kinda gal.
“Oh,” his face falls slightly. “Okay. Well, you did great up there tonight,” he says just as the street lights click on in the parking lot.
“Thanks,” I respond, standing at the edge of the sidewalk, debating what to do now while I wait for this guy to take a hint.
Do I go back inside and wait for him to buzz off and make a break for it? Or do I stand here and wait for him to get the hint and leave me alone?
“I’ve been watchin’ you for a while. You have an incredible voice. I love the rasp. Very rare to find that any more.” He tucks his hands in his jeans pockets as his eyes trail over me.
Okay, this isn’t getting creepy at all.
“Thanks again. Always nice to meet a fan.” I look back inside the coffee shop, thinking going inside may be my best bet to get rid of this guy.
A few awkward seconds pass, and I realize this isn’t going to happen as soon as I’d like it to.
“Boyfriend’s runnin’ late, huh?” the man says as he steps closer to me, causing me to take a step back.
A nervous feeling rolls through me as I glance out at the nearly empty parking lot. I’m not above kneeing this guy if he doesn’t back the hell up.
“Guess so. But you need to?—”
Just as I’m thinking I’ll have to junk punch the guy, I feel the presence of another body come up from behind me. Flashbacks run through me as the warm, delicious scent I haven’t smelled in years fills my senses and causes goosebumps to run up my body and coat my arms.
“Hey, Wildflower. Sorry, I’m late. Who’s your friend?”
I turn at the sound of his deep voice. I’ve always been tall, but this man towers over me. His white t-shirt fits snuggly against his chest and biceps, leaving little to the imagination. The blonde hair peeking from under his backward ball cap looks wet—like he’s fresh from a shower.
I haven’t seen Wilder since we graduated high school, and honestly, I hoped I never would again. I heard through the grapevine that he’s a firefighter now—very fitting for the pyromaniac who set the fire alarm off at school multiple times. He was always doing crazy shit. And his fascination with fire was evident all through the year I knew him. At every party I went to, he was the guy starting the bonfires, setting off fireworks, or doing whatever else he could possibly do that involved the element.
“Just a fan,” the man says from beside me. “It was nice chattin’ with you.” He turns and walks out into the parking lot to a vehicle in the back row that I can’t quite see. The old car roars to life, but not in a sexy way. More of a ‘this car’s hanging on for dear life’ kinda way.
After he pulls out of the parking lot and onto the street, I turn to face Wild, ready for war. Unfortunately, I’m greeted by his beaming, stupidly handsome face, and a bit of that anger I have stored up for him disappears for a split second… but then he decides to speak again, and that goes right out the window.
“Gettin’ into a bit of trouble there, Ind?” His eyes roam over my still shocked face.
“What are you doin’ here, Wild?” I ask, wondering how the hell I’ve avoided this man for all these years, and now he shows up out of the blue. I’ve been coming here for quite a while; I’d have definitely seen him by now if he ever came here.
“Well, I came to give my sister a ride. But at the current moment, I’m bein’ your boyfriend… You’re welcome.” He winks, biting back a grin.
I swear to God, if another guy fucking winks at me tonight…
“I didn’t need your help. I was handling it just fine,” I snap at him.
“Oh, I know you can handle it on your own. I just couldn’t miss an opportunity to play the part of Indie Jones’ boyfriend. It is a rare title for someone to hold, after all.”
I roll my eyes as I lean down and grab my guitar case from the sidewalk. “Well, you’re free to go. Goodnight, Wild.” I turn and start the journey home.
“See you around, Dr. Jones,” he says from behind me, causing me to halt and spin back around.
“I told you not to call me that,” I bite out, glaring over at him, remembering the arguments we’d get into back in high school when he started his pestering.
After the whole river incident, I did my best to avoid him. He didn’t much care for it, so after a while, he decided to make my life hell by constantly picking on me any chance he got.
“If a boy picks on you and teases you, it means he likes you!” my Auntie June would tell me during our weekly phone calls when I’d complain about him for the umpteenth time.
I was perfectly aware of his feelings for me.
And for every other girl in our class.
He was more of a flirt than anything, though. But still, I didn’t want to deal with that either.
Did I ever want anything serious? No. But did I want to be with someone known for charming every girl he came in vicinity with? Also no.
Wild steps closer, the light from the coffee shop window illuminating his face, making his hazel eyes easier to see as they glow in the light.
“Sorry. I forgot.” He quietly laughs from his nose. “You wanna come in and get a drink with me?” he asks, pulling the glass door of the coffee shop open.
“Already have one,” I say, holding up my cup.
“Well, how about just comin’ inside and talkin’ with me. We have a lot of catchin’ up to do. C’mon,” he motions with his head, “I’ll get you another coffee for the road.” He waits by the open door.
The last thing I need right now is to make any bad decisions, and that is precisely where anything with Wilder would go. I don’t fully understand why I’ve always felt drawn to him, but I’ve always made sure to do everything in my power to avoid him and the pull I feel toward him at all costs.
“Not tonight… Thanks, though.”
“Alright, your loss,” he shrugs one shoulder. “I was gonna throw in some pretty bad dad jokes while I was at it,” he laughs again. “You sure?”
No, I’m not fucking sure.
“Hard pass, Wilder.”
“Ah, you’re no fun, Indiana.”
“I’m well aware,” I respond, turning and walking down the sidewalk toward home.
“Do you need help to your car?” He gestures to my full hands.
If I tell him I don’t have a car, and I’m walking, I know he’ll insist on giving me a ride home. I need to be stuck in a confined space with Wilder Beckett like I need a hole in the damn head. Or there’s the possibility that his sister—that I didn’t know existed—would potentially be in the car as well. I can only imagine how annoying she must be, and being in the car with two of them sounds more awful than walking home alone in the dark.
As a teenager, it was easier to control myself around Wilder. There were always other people around, adults to answer to. But now, the world considers me the adult, and I’m left unsupervised, allowed to do anything I damn well please. It’s a lot of responsibility. Responsibility I don’t think I could handle tonight. Especially when he looks like that —time has not been unkind to him one bit.
“No, I got it. Thanks, though,” I say and wave a finger over my shoulder.
I slowly turn and walk through the parking lot, pretending to own one of these cars, waiting for Wild to go inside so I can finally begin my walk home.
Once I pass a couple of cars, I peek over my shoulder and see him walking inside the coffee shop. Quickly, I make my way out of the parking lot before he can spot me.
Seeing Wild tonight was unexpected, and I swore my feelings for the guy changed over the years—that I wouldn’t be affected by him the way I was back in high school.
So why the hell did my heart feel like it was taking flight when I saw him?