Chapter 12 #2
The buzz of machinery and hum of the mechanic’s banter drifted out of the open garage bay, and I tried to push thoughts of Wolf from my mind, but the moment I stepped into the reception area, the scent of motor oil slapped me in the face.
In high school, I’d spent plenty of weekends watching Wolf and the guys fiddle around beneath the hood of the cars they’d stolen.
The memory of Wolf, shirtless and covered in grease, was still at the top of my spank bank.
My own personal teenage poster, snapshotted in my mind.
God, I needed to stop thinking about him.
I rang the service bell, then leaned against the wooden counter.
A few seconds later, Joe came through the side door wearing grease-stained coveralls. “Hey, Jade,” he said, stepping behind the register. “Car’s all done.”
“Thanks for getting it repaired so fast.”
“No problem. Can’t have you without a car.” As much of a dick as Brent was, his cousin was actually a nice guy. He’d always been kind to me at family dinners and had towed my car within an hour of Brent calling.
I pulled cash from my pocket. “What do I owe you?”
“Ah, call it one-twenty.” Ouch.
It was a lot less than it should have been.
I knew he’d given me a huge discount, but it was nearly all our pick-pocketing money from the previous night.
I handed him a wad of bills, wistfully watching them disappear inside a cash box before I took my keys and left the shop.
Cassie was right. I should have just been grateful I’d had the money.
Setbacks are a test of my resilience. Although my resilience had been tested plenty.
If I didn’t get money fast, I’d be back to square one.
I’d have to sneak out of the frat house tonight, and as always, my stomach knotted at the thought of having to do something illegal. I wasn’t cut out for this life.
As soon as I pulled out of the mechanic’s shop, a wail of sirens sounded.
I pulled over in front of a hole-in-the-wall bar, waiting for the string of police cars to speed past. That was when I noticed the silver Silverado, with a huge dent on the tailgate, parked in front of the bar.
A truck I would know anywhere. That dent had been there since Wolf’s senior year, when some of the Barrington assholes tried to start shit with Hendrix and him.
What in the hell was he doing at a bar at two in the afternoon?
My first thought was dealing, but then, I knew Wolf, and if he’d been suspended from the team…
My foot lingered over the accelerator, ready to drive away.
Wolf was a big boy, and I was pretty sure the last person he’d want to see right now was me.
Hell, after last night, I didn’t particularly want to see him, either.
But I couldn’t bring myself to pull off.
My car idled as my gaze drifted from his truck to the door of the bar. If he was drowning his sorrows, he shouldn’t be driving home. Unable to squash the niggling worry, I turned into the parking lot. I’d just check on him.
I parked beside his truck and got out, glancing through the window as I passed. The little koala pencil grip I’d given to him my last year of high school was still clipped to his rearview mirror. The fact that he hadn’t removed it had that stupid sprig trying to plant roots.
Ignoring it, I stomped toward the run-down building.
The chorus of “Sweet Home Alabama” crept outside when I opened the door.
A haze of smoke clung to the limited light cutting through the grimy windows, the scent of it mixing with stale beer, and at this time of day, a general waft of defeat.
My eyes adjusted, taking in the dark wood walls covered with weathered football posters and jerseys of legends past.
I passed by a table of old men playing cards, then spotted Wolf sitting at the bar. Alone. A beer sat on the counter in front of him, along with two empty shot glasses. That was never a good sign.
He didn’t even glance at me when I took the stool beside him.
“What can I get you, sweetheart?” The gray-haired man behind the bar shuffled over, gripping a cigarette between his lips.
“Just water, please.” That I would not be touching. Cholera was not on my bingo card for today.
“And another Bud Light,” Wolf said, still ignoring my presence.
“Is this a private pity party?” I asked when the old guy moved away.
“Yep.” Wolf then proceeded to down the beer in front of him. He was drunk. It might not have been obvious to anyone else. Wolf rarely got sloppy, but the slight sway in his seat, the abrupt, clipped tone in his voice…
This was his solution to getting suspended?
Annoyance crept through me, right before a tiny bit of guilt set in.
I couldn’t shift the feeling that I’d had something to do with him hitting Brent, even though I hadn’t.
Not like I’d forced his fist into Brent’s jaw.
Still, the thought had me softening my approach slightly. “Are you okay?” I asked.
“What do you think?”
“Yeah, I heard…” I did feel bad for him, but he wasn’t exactly the victim. “You shouldn’t have punched Brent.”
He looked at me, his expression somewhere between pissed and sulking. “And you shouldn’t give a shit about him.”
As if he really thought I cared about the guy who cheated on me. In what world? “I don’t.”
“Why are you here, Jade?”
“Because I saw your truck in the parking lot of a shitty bar, in the middle of the afternoon, after hearing you got suspended from the team.” I swept a hand toward his empty beer, Exhibit A of how well he was dealing with his suspension.
The bartender dumped our drinks in front of us. Wolf tipped that one back like all the answers to his problems were hiding at the bottom of the bottle. He never used to be so angry and evasive. Or frustrating.
“I was worried about you.”
“Don’t be.”
“Right. You aren’t my problem,” I said. “But I’ll still drive you home.”
“I don’t need you to drive me home.”
“You definitely do.”
“I can get home by myself.”
The thin, ragged thread of my patience snapped. “And how are you going to get back, huh? I’m not leaving you here to drive drunk.” It came out far more enraged than I’d intended, but I knew all too well he wouldn’t call anyone else for help.
He wouldn’t want them to see him like this. That was the problem. I knew him.
He downed his beer in a few gulps, then stood up, shoving his hand in his pocket. “You don’t want to leave?” He tossed a crumpled ten on the counter. “Then I will.”
Staggering, he brushed past me. What had I done except offer to help him? I didn’t have to stop. I could have just kept on driving. Anger had me on my feet and blocking his path, which was laughable, given that he could swat me away like a gnat if he wanted to.
“Is this what you do now?” I asked, glaring up at him. “Just drink and run away from your problems?”
“What I want to do is get away from you. You’re my problem.”
It shouldn’t have hurt so much.
He moved around me, weaving between the tables. I should have just left. I didn’t. I told myself it was out of concern, but truthfully, I just wanted to lash out and hurt him right back.
“Yeah, I’d love that, too. But I can’t get away from you, can I?” I followed him outside, squinting against the bright daylight. “I gave you a year and a half where you could pretend I didn’t exist, until you?—”
“No.” Gravel crunched beneath his feet when he spun to face me. “You pretended I didn’t exist.”
Yeah, it seemed he’d been really torn up over that when he jumped into a new relationship. “Oh, yeah, you really missed me. I’m sure you were crying about it while screwing Nora.”
“What’s your fucking deal with Nora?”
I hated her. Hated that he’d moved on from me so easily, and so quickly, when I never could quite move on from him.
I’d been the one to instigate our “break,” which he turned into a break- up .
So, really, I’d had no right to be upset when I found out he was actually dating—not fucking—but dating her.
Something he’d only done with me. Something only I had from him.
I’d reacted by doing exactly what he was now: drowning my sorrows in alcohol.
That one drunken night was how I’d fallen into Brent’s bed.
He’d been my friend, and it seemed so simple to think he could be more, that maybe he could come close to meaning what Wolf had.
If I were brutally honest with myself, I’d used him to try to Band-Aid the bleeding wound left from discovering I’d meant nothing to someone who’d meant everything to me.
Look how well that had worked out. So, yes, I fucking hated Nora Locke.
Almost as much as I hated myself for letting Wolf go and basically handing him to her.
“I’m simply stating facts,” I said, fighting the sting of threatening tears. “You clearly didn’t miss me.”
“And how the hell would you know?” He stepped closer, the anger and hurt in his eyes taking me by surprise. “You just dropped me, Jade. So, how would you know how fucked up that made me?”
“I didn’t drop you!”
“You blocked me!”
“What?” No, I hadn’t. He had changed his number. “ I blocked you ? Sure.” I threw up my hands. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, Wolf.”
His dark brows pulled together. There was no point in having any kind of conversation with him when he was that drunk.
“Fuck you, Jade.” He turned, stumbling to the side before he headed across the parking lot.
“No, fuck you !” I stormed after him. Like hell I would be the bad guy.
“You could have—” Tears stung my eyes, and I quickly sucked them back.
Could have what? Fought for me? Wanted me?
What was the point in hashing all this out with him?
It was just picking at an old wound. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.
We were never going to last. Thinking we stood a chance was stupid.
” Outside of Dayton, he and I were a pipedream.
I kept trying to hold on to him, but he’d felt like sand slipping through my fingers, along with everything else.
He spun around, closing the space between us so fast, I couldn’t take a step back. “Bullshit. You didn’t give us a chance.” The anger on his face shifted into something softer, something fractured that had my heart letting out a painful beat. “I fucking loved you, Jade.”
For a moment, I was right back there, heartbroken and mourning something I knew I would never find again.
I fought tears, unable to meet his gaze.
Damn him for saying that, like he’d loved me and I’d just walked away without a second thought.
It was never supposed to be permanent! I’d needed space.
I’d needed to feel like I was important to him.
And what had he done? Forgotten about me and moved on to Nora.
“I loved you, too,” I said, my voice cracking to a whisper.
God, had I loved him, in the way that only a first love could—desperate and all-encompassing, as though I couldn’t live without him.
But life wasn’t a romance book, and love did not conquer all.
“More than you know.” I finally met his blue gaze, a mixture of anger and longing.
The same longing I couldn’t seem to kill, certainly not with those words lingering in the air between us.
“Fuck it.” In the space of a heartbeat, he closed the space between us. His palm met the back of my neck, rough and warm, secure…
“Wolf—”
My brain moved through sludge as his warm lips met mine.
Just like that, I felt like I was home. Wolf kissed me as though he’d waited every single second of our time apart to do it again.
And I kissed him back because being with him was instinctual, unavoidable, like breathing oxygen.
It didn’t require anything so trivial as a conscious decision. He just…was. We just were.
When my lips parted, he held me tighter, taking everything I had to give as though he was laying claim to lost lands.
I enjoyed the feeling of being claimed by him, possessed, far too much.
I couldn’t stop the moan that slipped from my mouth to his when he fisted my hair.
The frantic thrum of my heart begged for more with every beat.
A niggling voice in the back of my mind reminded me that I should not be kissing him. I should not be enjoying it. I told myself it was one kiss, a little closure, and then I’d never allow myself to be put in this situation with him again.
Just as quickly as he’d started it, he pulled away, his hold on my neck firm as his glassy gaze met mine. One look in his eyes was all the reminder I needed that he was drunk.
“I…” I didn’t know what to say.
Then his focus slowly shifted over my head.
When a deep frown set on his face, I glanced behind me.
Brent stood a few feet away, in the entrance of the parking lot, his right eye swollen and bruised.
Confusion chased away any lingering tingles left from Wolf.
Why would Brent be here? I glanced across the street at the sign to his cousin’s shop.
Was he stalking me now? How long had he been there?
That thought had a sickening feeling settling in my gut.
What if that was why Wolf had kissed me…because of Brent? They were in a pissing match, and I’d stood there like a damned lamppost. Humiliation and hurt washed through me—as I was sure Wolf had hoped it would. I tore away from Wolf’s hold and stalked straight past him to my Jeep.
“Get in the car,” I said, my cheeks hot when I settled behind the wheel. The fissure of hurt ripping across my chest was proof of how vulnerable I was when it came to Wolf and a painful reminder that I needed to save myself from my own weakness where he was concerned.
Wolf got into the passenger seat and closed the door.
I started the engine. “The next time you want a pissing match with Brent, leave me out of it.” Then I pulled out of the parking lot, swerving around Brent.
I needed to get one of those penguins and prove what they were doing. Then I’d have all the leverage needed to save myself, hopefully, before it was too late.