Chapter 20
Luke
What is it that people say about the definition of insanity? That it’s the equivalent of doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result?
Whatever it is, I think I am certifiably insane because the way Annie is looking at me right now makes me think that my years of trying to make her love me again have finally paid off.
I was joking before when I teased her about her feelings showing, but I know my Annie girl, and I know that she’ll always keep her feelings under wraps. I can appreciate it though, especially if she gives me glimpses like she is now.
Gone before I can think too much about it, she turns to look forward, pressing her feet up against my dash and leaning back in her seat. “I believe I was promised a matcha for running these errands with you.”
“Coming right up,” I say, putting the car into drive and pulling out of the ice rink parking lot.
***
“Remind me why we have to drive 20 minutes to this pet store for Rosie’s food?” Annie asks as we exit the store, taking the last sip of the iced matcha I got her on the way here before tossing it in the trash can we pass.
“Because,” I say, feigned offense in my voice, “our Ro-Ro deserves the very best.”
“I won’t argue with that,” she says, opening the backseat door of my car for me to put in Rosie’s big bag of food and the plastic bag of toys we picked out for her. “I meant it more as why did we pass three closer pet stores to come out this way.”
I don’t have any other reason for coming out this way other than the fact I wanted to spend more time with Annie. Listening to the songs she played in the car, hearing her sing for the first time since she made us all go sing karaoke one weekend three years ago; I forgot how much I love her voice.
I kept driving, wanting to prolong the car ride, until she got suspicious as to where I was headed. I was lucky there was a place for us to stop at when I was only half-paying attention to where I was going.
“This one is Rosie’s favorite,” I lie, shutting the door and opening the passenger side door for Annie.
“She’s not here,” Annie replies, not missing a beat.
“Is there anything I can say that you won’t argue with?”
“Nope,” she answers with a smile.
“Brat.”
“You like it.”
I shake my head and laugh because what I want to do—throw her into the backseat of my car and show her how much I like it—-wouldn't be appropriate.
“What errands did you need to run?” I ask her when we both get into the car .
“I wanted to get some baking things—flour, sugar, cocoa powder, other ingredients and supplies. That kind of stuff.”
“For the cake you’re making me?” I tease, and I make a mental note of one more errand I need to run, one I need to do without Annie before she gets home from her first day of rotations on Monday.
“Ha, funny,” she deadpans before adding, “We have Sunday Dinner tomorrow at Mia and Eddie’s, so I need to make a dessert.” A moment passes before she continues. “But I guess some baked goods could count as my rent since you won’t let me pay you anything for it.”
“Exactly,” I answer. I would never make her pay me for staying at my place for a few months. “I’m already thinking of all the desserts you can make me between now and October when your new apartment is ready.”
Her words make a movie of memories play out in my head—all the times she baked me a birthday cake and how much better they got over the years. The first cake she ever baked me was for my 12th birthday, and it was borderline liquid when we cut into it.
The last one was for when the Lenny's crew got together to celebrate me graduating law school at my apartment. They were all the to watch me walk across the stage and get my diploma. That cake was the best thing I ever tasted; I’ve had literal dreams about the dark chocolate cake and the peanut butter frosting.
Well, maybe second best—Annie tastes pretty damn good.
She laughs. “I can’t believe I’ll be living down the hall from you in just over a month.” She lets out a sigh, “But in all seriousness, with rotations starting, my stress level is about to skyrocket, meaning I’ll need something to do to keep me sane and help me relax. Get ready to eat cookies and cupcakes for every meal starting Monday.”
“I can think of some things I can do to help you relax,” I flirt, never missing a chance to push her buttons. It’s like second nature to me after this long.
Annie reaches behind her to grab her seatbelt, willing her face to stay the same. “But if it has to do with you, it definitely won’t keep me sane.”
She clicks her seatbelt in and tucks her hair behind her ears. “I would hope not,” I quip. “I would hope it would drive you crazy, just like it did last night.”
This time, she can’t control the small inhale she takes and the widening of her eyes.
Got her .
She turns to face me, ears red and her signature death glare in full effect. “Drive.”
***
I drop Annie off at home, helping her bring in her bags of baking supplies and the stuff we got for Rosie, and let her know I need to stop over at Lenny’s.
She looks like she’s about to offer to come with me, but I saw the sparkle in her eyes when she was throwing all kinds of stuff in the cart at the grocery store.
She’s itching to get started on dessert for tomorrow night.
I head back the way we came, stopping to get the perfect present for Annie. Her birthday is coming up at the end of September, and I haven’t given her a birthday gift in years. The last time I did was a bouquet of roses for her 19th birthday, and she told me that she’d rather me just drop off the face of the Earth as a gift.
Then she took a lighter and set the flowers on fire.
And because she, of course, wants the one thing I won’t give her—leaving her alone—I haven’t gotten her anything since.
Until this year.
I’ll frame this year’s gift as an early birthday gift and a congrats-on-starting rotations gift. I know she won’t be able to resist being happy about it, especially after I saw the state of her old stand mixer after the break-in.
After picking her up a new one—a bright red one, that reminded me of her lips after she puts her cherry lip gloss on—I actually did stop at Lenny’s because I could never lie to Annie. I told her I was coming here, so I did.
Ava’s working with one of the other new bartenders, Mickey. The two look like they have everything under control, so I give them a quick wave before rounding the bar and heading back to Emmett’s office to make next week’s schedule.
But before I can, I hear a voice I haven’t heard since high school.
“Luke Owens?” the voice booms, and I turn to find Grant, my buddy from my high school’s hockey team, sitting at the end of the bar.
He was our goalie; big and built enough at 17 to buy us alcohol at the local gas station and not get carded. His dirty blonde hair is a little darker now, and he has more facial hair than he did the last time I saw him.
“I haven’t seen you since the night before we all left for college. How’ve you been?” He stands up from his chair at the bar as I walk over to him, taking his held-out hand and letting him pull me in to slap his hand on my back.
“I’m good, man. It’s nice to see you.” The last I heard of Grant, he was going to college with three of our friends on the team a few hours north of here. All four moving on from their hockey careers and all four reluctantly being followed by their high school girlfriends—the girls Annie used to be friends with.
I didn’t keep up with many people from high school, quickly finding a new group of friends in college and then law school. Plus, I had the Lenny’s crew. I didn’t really need anyone else.
And seeing Grant makes me feel like my mind is reverting back to high school and like the past seven years didn’t happen, and I’m not a fan of the feeling.
“You still with Devin?” I ask him, not having thought about her since that night she whisked Annie away and then I didn’t see her for four months.
Grant shrugs his shoulders. “We’ve been on and off over the years, but we just moved in together not too far from where we went to college.”
I nod my head, not really caring for this small talk, but I don’t want to be rude. “What brought you back?” Lenny’s is across town from where I grew up, so it’s not too crazy to see people I knew in high school out this way every so often. It’s just not at all often they come here, seeing as though it’s a small dive bar in the midst of more trendy, popular places.
And for people like Grant and Devin, I would expect them to flock back to our hometown if they’re ever out visiting this way—I wouldn’t put it past them to be the kind of people stuck in that high school mindset.
“We’re in town for the week. You remember Penelope? Devin’s friend? She’s getting married at some place in downtown Milwaukee, and you’ll never guess who she’s with now,” he answers, and I really hope my face doesn’t show how much I don’t care about this .
It must not because, when I don’t say anything, Grant continues like he never really wanted my response anyway.
“Alek’s brother . Remember him? He was two years older than us. She dumped Alek a week after we all moved into our dorms, and then ended up with his brother.” He shakes his head.
I have a vague memory of Penelope and Alek dating, her following him to college, but it’s really none of my business what happened between all of them, especially after we drifted.
“Crazy stuff, man,” Grant says, taking a sip of his beer. “Anyway, what brings you here?”
“Oh, I work here,” I answer.
Grant’s eyebrows raise. “You’re a bartender? Here ?” He lines the word “here” with disbelief and borderline disgust, as if he can’t believe I would work here, and I cross my arms.
“I do. I’m running the place while the owner is out on paternity leave.” I want to ask him why he seems to have a problem with that, seeing as though his face makes it seem like I just told him I kick puppies and push over toddlers for a living, but he voices his confusion before I can.
“Damn, I’m surprised. When I heard you were giving up playing hockey to be a lawyer, I just figured you’d be one by now.”
I resist the urge to pull an Annie and roll my eyes. My skin is prickled with annoyance, and I want nothing more than to tell him I’m done with this conversation. “That was the plan.”
“My dad saw yours not too long ago, told me you were still planning on going to work with him. ”
“Things changed,” I answer, and that’s all I’m giving him. I’m ready to give him a goodbye, but he stops me in my tracks.
“Whatever happened with Viv—I mean, Annie?”
Grant is literally the last person I want to talk about Annie with, seeing as though no one from our high school would believe me if I told them Annie isn’t the shy theater kid she was back then.
“She’s good,” is all I say, quickly adding that I got to go and pretending to agree that we should get together sometime.
I never make it back to Emmett’s office because I head out the front door and drive straight home. I’m not going to sit and listen to someone, who I know doesn’t deserve to know the amazing person she grew into, ask about Annie.