Chapter 9
Margot eyes me from top to bottom when I leave Cactus at her place the next night.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” she says with a pleased look.
I huff a laugh, not really sure what to reply.
“Know what, come pick this little lady up tomorrow instead so you can treat yourself to a nice evening. I think you need it,” she says with another assessing look.
I frown. “Are you sure?”
Her answer comes without hesitation. “Absolutely. You go have fun, honey.”
“Thank you, Margot,” I say gratefully, trying not to show my relief. For the first time in days, I feel a little bit lighter. Cactus is totally ignoring me, sitting by Margot’s feet, and looking anywhere but at me.
“She’ll come around, you know,” Margot says after a beat and a glance at Cactus.
I nod, not sure what to say. I don’t even know if I care if Cactus will come around.
I never asked for her in the first place.
And . . . I won’t be able to take her with me to New York.
Correction, I don’t want to take her with me to New York.
I’m not a dog person. It doesn’t work with my life.
Hopefully Margot will say yes to adopting Cactus when I ask her. But I won’t ask her now, not yet.
“Just call me if anything happens.”
“Yeah, yeah, off you go now. You don’t want to be late.”
I laugh as she practically shoves me off her porch.
“One more thing, sweetie, before you go out and charm the pants off this whole town with those big, brown eyes of yours.”
“Margot, I’m not interested in charming anyone’s pants off. I’m not even sure I can . . .”
She interrupts me.
“Nonsense. Now, I’d like to ask you to turn on your porch light when you get home, so I know you’re in there safe and sound.”
A sudden rush of warmth hits me somewhere in my chest. “I—”
“If I don’t see any porch light by the time I wake up tomorrow, I’ll call the police. Understood?”
I have no choice but to nod under her piercing gaze. “Okay.”
“Good. Now, get a move on.”
I turn one more time before I leave. “Thank you, Margot. Really.”
She just waves her hand in front of her, but I can see a small smile tugging at her lips.
I hear the sound from the bar and wonder for a moment if I really want to do this. I can just go back to Liz’s house and make sure I don’t make any contacts during my time here. It would simplify things.
Or I can walk in there, have some drinks and try to silence the chaos in my head. Plus, I promised Iris I’d show up.
I take a deep breath, adjust my denim skirt before I push open the door. I can do this. I’ve done it before. It’s just been ages since the last time.
The place I walk into is not at all what I expected.
It’s all dark wood, soft lighting, and a robust round bar in the middle.
Pool tables and dartboards occupy one corner, a small stage another.
In the middle of the wooden-beamed ceiling hangs an actual small tree boat—beautiful, with patina, as if it has stories to tell.
A neon sign announces they have Cold Beer.
Weirdly, I feel immediately at home, like I’ve been here before, even though I obviously haven’t.
It’s still early, and the place isn’t crowded yet—though it’s far from empty.
I look at everyone talking to each other, knowing each other, and suddenly feel a little lost. I don’t think I’ve ever come to a place like this without knowing anyone.
What if Iris got caught up with something and isn’t here?
But I worry for no reason because . . .
“Juuuuuune! You came!”
Shoulders I didn’t know were stiff immediately sink several inches.
I return her smile and make my way over to her, careful not to trip in my pink wedges.
She meets me halfway and throws her arms around me.
“I’m so glad you came!” Then she notices my shoes.
“Oh, my god, I love them. Can I marry them?”
I laugh and promise her she can.
”Come, meet everyone.” She takes my wrist and turns me toward the table behind us. “Guys! This is June, the girl I was telling you about. She’s new here, so do your best to make her feel welcome.” She turns back to me. “June, this is everyone.”
I notice him almost immediately. Just like last time.
Benjamin Reyes. It’s like my eyes are drawn to him involuntarily, for some reason I don’t understand.
He sits a couple of tables away with guys I assume are his friends.
I can feel his gaze on me but ignore it the same way I ignore my nerve endings going on very high alert from one moment to the next.
Maybe his wife is here, too, somewhere. Audrey. It’s an annoyingly beautiful name.
I do my best to focus on Iris’s friends, who are just as lovely as she is.
It’s hard not to notice that they’ve known each other for a long time.
They take turns telling me stories about their upbringing, each one worse than the last, and I end up laughing so hard I lie doubled over the table.
My stomach literally aches, making me forget about everything else for a moment.
It’s like being set free, if only for a second.
And Iris was right—the hamburger is amazing.
Without me really noticing, the bar has filled up.
It’s kind of crowded now. Music is loud, and so are the people.
Happy and loud. The owner, Jake, who Iris introduced me to earlier this evening, has his hands full.
But he doesn’t seem to mind. He serves his customers with an easy smile.
He’s our age, maybe a couple of years older, and previously a tennis pro, Iris tells me.
When he moved back to Pearlband Beach after his career was over, he opened this place, and ever since, it’s where every local comes when they’re thirsty, hungry, or just looking for good company.
He’s good-looking, Jake—just ask all the girls standing around the bar hoping for a smile or a glance.
And when he announces that the karaoke mic is open, a loud cheer erupts. I assure Iris that I’m totally fine staying at the table with Austin and my drink. “I told you, I’m a better audience than a singer,” I say with a smile when she tries to convince me to join her on stage.
Austin is nice and easy to talk to. He tells me about what it was like to move back to Pearlband after four years in Chicago, and about his job as an attorney.
And he asks me about my first impression of Pearlband Beach, and I lie without missing a beat.
He doesn’t need to know I hate the place he calls home.
Totally unnecessary information. We sit with our heads close, since it’s almost impossible to hear each other when Iris and the others sing their lungs out to “MMMBop”.
When the song is over, we jump up and cheer like the good cheerleaders we are, and Iris answers by throwing us kisses.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Benjamin.
He’s still sitting, leaning forward with his elbows on the table.
One of his friends whispers something in his ear, and while he listens, he turns his head in my direction.
I make sure I’m not looking at him, but my skin feels prickly all of a sudden, probably because I’ve been sitting for so long.
“I need to visit the ladies’ room,” I tell Austin and stand. Wow, I can definitely feel the drinks now. I like it.
When I get out of the restroom, I stop by a wall next to the pool tables.
It’s covered with Polaroid pictures. I spot Iris.
Austin. And Benjamin. He looks irritatingly handsome (again, waste) where he stands with his arm draped over Jake’s shoulders.
So, they’re friends. Well, of course they are, this is a small town.
Everyone is friends here. His skin is sun-kissed and hair messy in a charming kind of way.
Okay, on anyone else it would’ve been charming, on him it’s just annoying. He looks smug. Ugh.
“Liking what you see, Collins?”
I flinch before turning slowly. He’s standing right behind me, smugness written all over him even in real life.
“Oh, Dr. Dolittle, hello,” I say in mock surprise. Something crosses his eyes quickly. Amusement?
“Enjoying your night?”
“I was,” I say, meeting his eyes. We stare at each other for a couple of seconds before he averts his gaze, throwing a glance at the stage where Iris is now singing Mariah Carey’s “Heartbreaker”. I love that song.
He returns his eyes to me. “How’s Cactus?”
I shrug one shoulder. “Still hates me.”
“Dogs hate no one.”
“Well, this one does.”
He watches me silently for a couple of seconds, like he’s evaluating me. And I realize that now that I have him here, I must swallow my pride and ask him that thing that’s been bugging me since yesterday.
“I have a question.”
He quirks an eyebrow.
“A veterinarian question,” I clarify.
He nods one time.
“I bought dog food yesterday and Cactus refuses to eat it. Why?”
He studies me for a long moment, green eyes narrowed at me, as if he’s trying to decide if he should answer that or not. I raise my eyebrows in question and ignore the way my skin feels heated.
“I’ll play you.” I frown with a light head shake. What the hell is he talking about? He nods at the pool tables. “You win an answer for every ball you get in the pocket. The same goes for me.”
I look at him like he’s deluded, trying to figure out if he’s joking or not. “You wanna play me on getting the right food for my dog?” Well, not my dog, really, but still. “Isn’t that your job?”
“Yeah, but I’m not at work now.”
I stare at him. He can’t be serious. But then a familiar feeling hits me: the desire to win. To beat him. Actually, to crush him. Him and that arrogant face of his. So, to my own big surprise, I nod. “Okay. Deal. One answer per ball in the pocket.”
He nods, not even trying to hide his superior satisfaction. That son of a gun.