2. - – Laura
CHAPTER TWO
-
LAURA
“Welcome back, Laura,” Mrs. Dixon called from her place behind the front desk.
I give her a dainty wave and hand over the book I finished way too quickly.
I can’t help it, I’m a sucker for fated mates.
Mrs. Dixon scans the book and reaches behind the counter.
She pulls out the next book in that series and wiggles it in front of me.
She knows what she’s doing, too. That book wasn’t here when I picked up the first one.
“Thank you.” She nods and hums a reply, and I step away from the desk and into one of my favorite places.
My feet take me to the new release section, even though I have the book I was looking for.
Two hours later, I emerged from the cool library with three books stored safely in my oversized bag.
The one I came for, a hockey romance and a new spicy dragon rider book.
The late summer sun beat down on me as I crossed Main Street to the little pizza place.
I need a Dr. Pepper and a slice of greasy pizza.
Do my hips need it? Hell, no. Do I give a fuck? Also, hell no.
Giana’s is busy midday, full of locals on their lunch breaks.
I wave politely when someone waves at me, but mostly keep to myself.
There’s a small table tucked away in the corner with my name on it.
First, I have to get through this long line to place my order.
It smells heavenly in here despite the underlying hint of sweat.
The line moves quickly, and I’ve got my pizza, two breadsticks, and my pop in no time.
The little table is still open, and I slide into the seat with a sigh.
I’m drawn out of my book by a conversation I probably shouldn’t be listening in on.
The guys a few tables over are talking about the new bar and its grand opening next weekend.
Midnight. A pretty obscure name for a bar.
Okay, maybe not a bar in Indy or California.
I turn my eyes back down to the open book and try to focus, but when I hear the words “sex club” followed by loud “whale hail,” any chance I had at paying attention to the words on the page is lost. I leave it open as I strain to listen.
“S E X club.” The man in the safety vest says spelling sex out like it’ll save him from embarrassment. It did not. Several heads are now turned their way, prying eyes burrowing into the backs of their heads. I would not want to be them right now.
“Oh, quit gawkin’ every one of ya know what sex is.”
He’s right, but since school is still out, he might have said it a little quieter just in case.
“Are we goin’?” The youngest man at the table asks.
I might as well be sitting on his lap, given how invested I am in hearing the answer to his question.
Unfortunately, the three of them stand to leave before I get any more information.
Pausing long enough to drop a few bills into the tip jar on their way out.
I sit back in my chair and finish my drink, the book I was reading long forgotten.
I pull my phone out and swipe past the lock screen image.
It’s an old one of Claire and me, we were sunburnt to a crisp, but I’ll never forget that camping trip.
Or skinny dipping with my ex’s older brother.
I never heard from Drake again. He promised he’d keep in touch, but he was only in town for the camping trip.
It was a big one. Almost a high school reunion.
The Salamonie didn’t know what had hit it, pop versus country music playing at all hours on the shores where we weren’t supposed to be camping.
Tents, little campfires, and ATVs lined the bank for the weekend.
Most of us made terrible life choices that weekend.
But I fail to count sleeping with Drake as bad.
I experienced way too many orgasms for that.
Just thinking about it causes goosebumps to erupt over my skin, even if the jerk left town and never reached out.
I messaged him a few times, but he never responded.
I tucked my book into my bag and squeezed through the crowded restaurant and back into the late summer heat.