Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Zane
“Hey Andi, can I get a beer?” Luke called as he moseyed up to the bar.
“Sure thing,” she answered. “Coors, right?”
“You know me all too well.” He gave her one of those easy grins and dropped onto the barstool next to me.
My eyes darted between the two of them as I leaned in. “Can I get one, t—?” And she walked away. I huffed an irritated sigh and slumped against the bar. “Seriously?”
“Maybe she didn’t hear you,” Luke offered with a shrug, but I could already see the smug little tug at the corner of his mouth. “It is kinda loud in here.”
I wasn’t convinced, but I didn’t argue. A few seconds later she returned with Luke’s beer, popped the cap, and slid it across the bar.
“There you go, Luke,” she said, all sunshine and sweetness.
He winked at her and raised the bottle like it was a toast. “You’re an angel, darlin’.”
Andi laughed like he’d just told the best joke of the night, and I swear I saw her brush her hair back a little slower than necessary.
“Andi, can I get one, too?” I asked, louder now, to carry over the music. No way she didn’t hear me that time.
She didn’t even blink in my direction. “Let me know if you need anything else, handsome,” she said to Luke, laying it on thick.
Luke tipped his hat with that charm that came so easy to him, clearly eating up every drop of attention. I just stared, blinking at the empty space she’d left behind like I’d imagined the whole damn interaction.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I muttered.
Luke chuckled. “Boy, you really pissed her off. What’s it been…almost a week now, and she still won’t talk to you?”
“Talk? She won’t even look at me.” I huffed. “Not to mention, every time I get within fifteen feet of her, she bolts like a spooked filly.”
“Sooo…she bothers you by just being here but also bothers you by running away…” Luke grinned around his beer. “Makes sense.”
I glared at him, unamused. “You done?”
“Not even close,” he said, tipping back his beer with another smirk.
“Not drinking tonight, Zane?” Red asked, coming around from the cooler.
“Just waiting for your new waitress to make her way back down to this end of the bar,” I said, nodding toward the irritating brunette—the one actively pretending I was invisible.
Red didn’t wait for her. He reached into the cooler and popped the top off my usual. “Here.”
“Thanks.” I took a long pull and let my eyes drift back to Andi.
Even if I didn’t want to admit it, she looked good tonight—too good.
The kind of good that made me forget every reason I had for not trusting her.
She’d toned down the makeup, and damn if that didn’t work in her favor.
She didn’t need all that extra crap, anyway.
Her natural beauty hit harder than anything out of a bottle.
And that tight black shirt and those curve-hugging jeans?
Not helping my self-control. Not even a little.
I forced myself to look away before my brain wandered somewhere it had no business going.
She wasn’t talking to me. She wouldn’t even look at me.
And still…every time she walked by, my eyes followed like a damn magnet.
I hated it. Hated that no matter how much she iced me out, my gut still twisted every time she was close.
I couldn’t turn it off. Didn’t even know how to try.
“Don’t touch me!” Her voice cut through the crowd like a whip crack.
I was already turning toward the dance floor when Luke shot out of his seat. “Son of a bitch…”
“What?” I asked, but I didn’t need him to answer. I saw her—standing near the dance floor, swatting a man’s hand off her backside.
My hands curled into fists before my brain caught up.
“Is that Gus again?” I asked through gritted teeth, already on my feet.
“Looks like it,” Luke muttered, slamming down the rest of his beer. “That asshole never learns.”
We moved together, fast. I didn’t care that she didn’t want me around. None of that mattered right now. I just knew I needed to get to her.
By the time we got close, she was already unloading on Gus, giving him hell with that fire I’d come to expect from her.
He and his buddies laughed, treating it like some damn joke.
My pulse kicked up, hard and fast. She turned to walk away, and I started to breathe again—until he grabbed her around the waist and yanked her back.
Then everything stopped.
She spun in his arms, brought her knee up hard into his groin, and followed it with a right hook straight to his nose. The sound of the impact was loud enough to carry over the music, and Gus dropped like a sack of bricks.
The bar exploded with cheers and laughter.
Andi stood over him, chest heaving while shaking out her hand—looking like she wasn’t sure whether to wince or gloat. She bit her lip like she was holding back excitement, but the second her eyes landed on us—on me, oddly enough—that excited and pleased smile broke loose.
I didn’t smile back, though.
Couldn’t.
Because while the rest of the bar treated it like the highlight of their night, all I could think was how close she came to getting hurt. And how damn stupid I was for caring as much as I did.
“What?” she asked, eyes bright with adrenaline.
“Where the hell did you learn to do that?” Luke asked, staring at her like he wasn’t sure what he’d just witnessed.
Andi shrugged, flexing her fingers and shaking out her hand. “After what happened last time, your sister taught me how to make it hurt when guys don’t take no for an answer.” She winced, cradling her right hand. “Jesus, that hurt more than I thought it would.”
“Let me see,” I said before I could stop myself and lifted my hand to take hers.
She stepped back and narrowed her eyes. “I’m fine.”
And maybe she was. But that didn’t stop the way my chest tightened at seeing her favor her hand like that.
I inhaled slowly, tempering the edge in my voice. “I’m sure you are. But let me look anyway. Something tells me that’s your first time breaking someone’s nose.”
She hesitated—just long enough for me to reach out and take her hand before she could decide against it again.
The second my skin touched hers, it was like grabbing a hot fence—just enough shock to make me jump, but not enough to let go.
I’d touched plenty of hot fences when I was a kid, dared into it by Luke to see who could hold on the longest. God, we were dumb.
But this? This jolt felt different…and it sure as hell got my attention.
Her fingers were warm and trembling slightly, as I let my thumb trace lightly along the curve of her knuckles that were already red and starting to swell. Checking for damage, I told myself.
But the truth was, I wasn’t thinking about damage. Not anymore.
She watched me and didn’t say a word—didn’t pull away. And when our eyes met, something flickered there. Caution? Curiosity? Maybe even confusion. Like she wasn’t sure what to make of me now that I was being all nice and concerned. Shit, I wasn’t sure what to make of me, either.
“I don’t think anything’s broken,” I said. “But you’re gonna have a hell of a bruise. You should ice it.”
She scoffed, but it lacked her usual bite. “Thanks for the diagnosis, Doc.”
I smiled despite myself, giving her knuckles one last gentle brush before letting go. “Anytime.”
I tipped my hat and turned back to the bar, feeling her gaze linger on me the whole damn way. Maybe she was trying to figure me out. Hell, I was still trying to figure her out. And now I finally had a way in.
If being nice got me closer to the truth, then so be it. I could play the part and be her friend…at least until I figured out what the hell she was hiding.
I stood outside her door longer than I should’ve. Fist half-raised. Knuckles ready to knock. What the hell was I even doing?
My mind wandered, and I could still see the way her hand fit in mine earlier tonight, how the heat of her skin shot straight through me like a live wire. But I wasn’t here because of that.
This had nothing to do with feelings.
Still, I hesitated—considering how the last time I went to her door ended with her screaming and me catching an eyeful I still hadn’t recovered from.
Shaking my head, I huffed a sigh and finally rapped my knuckles lightly against the wood.
There was a beat of silence before her voice came through, quiet and irritated. “Who is it?”
“It’s me,” I said, just as quietly. “Zane.”
Footsteps sounded from the other side of the door before she cracked it open, glaring at me through the narrow gap. “Waiting for me to open the door this time, huh? How refreshingly civilized of you.”
An easy grin tugged at the corner of my mouth. “I can be.”
“That’s debatable,” she muttered. “What do you want?”
“To talk,” I said, tipping my head toward the back of the house. “Come sit on the porch with me?”
She studied me through the gap for a long moment.
“It’s late,” she whispered. “Can’t this wait till morning?”
“Ten minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”
She sighed. “Why the porch? Can’t you just say what you want to say here?”
“Neutral ground,” I teased, letting my grin grow wider. “Less chance of you slamming a door in my face.”
She rolled her eyes then muttered something under her breath and shut the door.
In my face. For a second I thought that was it, but then it opened again.
She had a robe tied over whatever she’d been sleeping in, and her hair hung loose in dark waves over her shoulder.
I had to look away for a second to remember why I was here.
We walked out to the porch, and I gestured to the swing. She sighed like she was doing me the world’s biggest favor and crossed her arms as she sat down. “Make it quick.”
I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck and sat beside her—close enough to read her body language, but far enough not to spook her.
“I wanted to apologize,” I said, eyes on the wood grain beneath our feet. “For being an ass.”
Silence.
When I looked up, she was watching me like she was waiting for the punchline.
I kept going. “I judged you. Made assumptions. Treated you like crap when you didn’t deserve it.”
Still nothing.
“I get it if you don’t want to hear it, but I needed to say it.”
That finally got her to blink. “Are you being serious? Or is this some kind of joke?”
I gave her my best wounded expression. “Come on, princess. Here I am trying to apologize, and you think I'm setting a trap?”
I was.
Or at least, I had been trying to until…
“Yes,” she scoffed. “Because that’s what guys do. Lure you in with pretty words and false promises. Make you think you can trust them—” Her bottom lip flew between her teeth as her words came to a screeching halt—like she realized too late she'd said too much.
And damn if I didn’t feel it. Not just hear it, but feel it—the pain behind her words and the fear under them.
I wasn’t expecting that, and it knocked me sideways for a beat.
Her little slip-up was just a crack. A weakness. An opening. Exactly what I’d been looking for. Get in, get answers, get out. But now I couldn’t stop wondering what the hell happened to her—and why it made my chest ache a little to think about it. “Andi—”
She held up a hand, eyes flashing. “Look, I know we got off to a rocky start. And I’m still not going to apologize for not pulling over to help you that day.
Maybe that makes me an inconsiderate snob, but I’ve spent too long ignoring my gut to make other people comfortable.
You were a pissed-off, strange man in the middle of nowhere.
” She jammed her finger into the center of her chest. “I chose me.”
A soft breeze swept through the porch, stirring her hair as she sat back slightly and crossed her arms, guarding herself again.
“And for the record? I’m not a criminal.
I’m not here to rob you or con your family out of anything.
I made a wrong turn, and now I’m stuck here until Willy fixes my car.
Once he’s done, I’m gone, and you’ll never have to see me ever again. ”
I should’ve been satisfied. I got something.
Didn’t even ask or push. She just…gave that barest hint of a personal detail freely.
But instead of a win, it felt like a gut punch.
I tried to swallow down the strange ache pressing against my chest and offered a half-smile.
Luke always made it look easy, turning charm into connection.
I could fake it, too. Except the longer I looked at her, the less it felt like faking.
“Truce, then?” I offered my hand.
She sighed, slow and wary. But her hand slid into mine, and the second our skin touched, I felt it again—that buzz. That heat.
“Don’t make me regret it,” she said softly.
I held onto her hand just a moment longer than was necessary, then let go as I stood and walked her back to the door—watching as she brushed past me with that chin-up, don’t-mess-with-me posture.
Tonight wasn’t about getting answers. It was about getting in. And now that I was…I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.