CHAPTER 1
ELIJAH
My thoughts keep going back to that day.
Back to my mistakes. It’s difficult to think of anything else when I’m surrounded by the memories.
I have to get out of this house. I can’t keep staring at these walls.
I can’t keep listening to this phone ring.
Grabbing my keys, I’m out the door with no plan and no phone.
Where am I going? What will I do once I get there?
Air. That’s it. I just need air. I need to stop thinking about Abe. Just get out of your head, Eli.
I walk because the only plan I do have makes driving a poor decision.
I walk, and I walk until I find myself in front of Cornerstone.
Definitely not my usual hangout, but that’s the point.
I don’t want to run into anyone I know. Anyone WE know.
I don’t want to deal with any more questions, and I can’t stomach any more pity.
No one here knows my name. They don’t know about the things I do when I can’t tell anyone where I’m going.
The place is packed. My lips puff out as I heave a heavy sigh.
This is definitely not my scene. That’s a good thing, though.
The upside? There are so many bodies in here that I doubt I’ll even be noticed. Downside? There are too many damn bodies in here. It feels like the whole of Austin is packed into this club. Cornerstone is quite large by anyone’s estimation, but feels like a shoebox at the moment.
I make my way over to the bar because the only plan I have is to drink.
Pushing my way through the crowd isn’t necessary.
People move when they see me. It’s instinctual.
Abe always told me that my size and overall look are intimidating to most regular people, regardless of the ever-present smile. I argued, but Abe was always right.
Standing near the bar, I wait for an opening to get my turn at ordering.
There are three bartenders at this bar alone, and that still isn’t enough.
People are packed in here like sardines.
The thrum of music and the roar of the crowd both add an element of tension to the ongoing drunken chaos.
This is the main bar in the club. There are at least three other smaller bars scattered throughout the joint, but this is the first bar you come to when you enter.
It’s the largest one by far. This isn’t my first time in Cornerstone.
On a previous visit, I learned the other bars serve only limited items. Several beers on tap and select drinks depending on which bar you go to.
This bar is the only one that serves a simple Jack and Coke.
The various other bars cater to more frilly desires. None of that for me, thanks.
Seeing my opening, I take it. Sliding into the newly vacated barstool, I plant my ass because I don’t intend to move until someone moves me. Preferably, someone willing to also take me home. Where did that thought come from? I can’t let anyone in my home.
There are two male bartenders and one female.
I can only see one of their faces, so I attempt to get his attention.
No luck. Apparently, I need to be wearing a much tighter dress to qualify for service from this guy.
Damn it. I need a drink. The female bartender is just a few feet away with her back to me.
It’s too loud to be heard over the voices and the music, so I make no attempt to shout at her. Instead, I just wait.
When the female bartender turns around, I’m momentarily stunned.
She’s gorgeous. She’s tattooed. There’s a particularly beautiful tattoo on her right arm. Some of it is concealed under her sleeveless top, but I see a panther, flowers, and books. I’ve never seen another tattoo even remotely similar.
All the bartenders around here are attractive.
I’m sure it’s a requirement but holy hell.
This girl is incredible. She’s not tall, but not exactly short either.
Maybe 5’6”. Definitely taller in those heels.
She’s small but, curvy. Small waist, wide hips, large tits, perfect legs.
Oh hell....a thigh tattoo. Her facial features are like Jessica Rabbit’s.
Her eyes are quite literally saying “Come fuck me” while her lips are saying “What can I get you?” Some of you, Rabbit.
Wait, I take that back. All of you, Rabbit. Every last bit.
Louder and much slower, I hear it again. “What can I get you?”
Oh shit! It’s her. She’s speaking to me. Please tell me I didn’t just say “Some of you, Rabbit” out loud. I didn’t, did I?
The gorgeous bartender is looking at me with a strange expression. This look is clearly confusion. Her gaze wanders off to the left. She’s going to leave you in favor of serving a more sentient customer, jackass. Finally, I find my voice. “Uh, Coke” I blurt out before she can step away.
“Coke? You waded through this crowd for a Coke?”
“Ah and Jack. J-jack and Coke, please.” Stuttering? Really?
She nods slowly, and I know she’s wondering if I’m already too drunk to be served.
She’s probably also considering that I could be suffering from a developmental delay that causes my words to come out scattered and nearly unintelligible.
It feels like the wrong time to tell her that I can snap a neck with my bare hands and shoot a moving target at 1,500 meters.
It also feels like something she needs to know.
Reaching down directly in front of me, she starts making my drink. She’s fast. It’s a simple drink, but her skill is still obvious. She slides the drink to me, and I hand her my card.
“Run it or run a tab?” She’s holding up my card and speaking fast.
My brain just isn’t operating at top speed around this girl, and it takes me a moment before I can speak. She quirks a brow.
“Ah, tab. Please. Thanks you.”
Thanks you? What is happening?
Maybe it’s me that I need to remind that I’m kind of a big deal. What the hell is wrong with me?
I don’t have time to answer that for myself before she quirks a grin.
I don’t even regret my idiocy now because, hot damn!
She really is gorgeous. I just thought she was pretty when her face was attentive, but not smiling.
Her smile is like a fucking rainbow. Like a rainbow, this smile probably doesn’t come out a lot.
When it does, I know people leave their houses to get a better look because it’s the most beautiful thing anyone has ever seen.
I smile back and immediately know I look like an idiot because her smile widens as she chuckles a little under her breath.
She’s gone before I can form words again.
I just stare after her.
Wow. I wonder if she’ll keep serving my drinks.
I wonder how fast I can drink this so she’ll come back.
A million thoughts are racing through my mind, and they’re all about this girl.
I’ll ask her name when she comes back. Or maybe I won’t.
She’s really quick, so it may be awkward if I blurt out “what’s your name” as she’s already walking away.
Who am I right now? When have I ever worked out conversations in my head?
Just chill the fuck out, Elijah. She’s a girl.
A human girl. YOU are a highly decorated soldier, not to mention a grown ass man.
You do not get nervous. You do not get tongue tied.
My drink is empty, and she’s back in a flash, mixing another.
“What’s your name?” I basically shout it at her.
My intent was to be heard over the crowd, but my baritone nearly blows her backward into the wall of drink implements behind her.
Or that’s how it feels anyway. Either way, it earns me another smile.
She’s looking down at her hands as they work over my drink, and I see her look up at me through those long, beautiful dark lashes.
“Macy.” She says in a perfect volume that carries to me but doesn’t overpower the situation. Damn. I wish I had done that.
“I’m El-”
“Elijah.” She cuts me off. “Here you go, Mr. Washington.” And she’s gone again.
How is she doing this to me? What even is it that she’s doing to me?
Shifting in my seat, I confirm that yes, my balls are still intact.
It seemed for a moment that she might have taken them.
She obviously got my name off my credit card.
Does it mean anything that she remembered it even though she’s serving dozens of other patrons?
I choose to believe it does. She probably doesn’t even have a good memory, and she still remembered my name. Yep. She’s into me.
An indeterminate amount of time passes, and I realize that no, she is not into me. She doesn’t even glance at me unless she’s standing directly in front of me. Meanwhile, my eyes haven’t left her since I sat down.
There are far fewer people in the club now.
This place opens at noon and has great lunch and happy hour deals, so people typically come early and don’t last past midnight.
I already know I’ll be staying until close.
It’s the best chance I’ve got at really being noticed by Macy.
I need to talk to her and win her over with my usually present charm.
Maybe she’ll be boring or an idiot, and I can get over whatever this insta-obsession is.
A guy comes and sits on the stool beside me.
I acknowledge him with a nod, and he smiles while nodding back.
I hate to admit this, but he’s a pretty guy.
One of those guys that could dress up as a woman and still be attractive.
I’m not a pretty guy. Attractive, yes. I know this because I’ve been told enough but, no one has ever called me pretty.
The words rugged, sexy, masculine, and a host of other non-pretty adjectives have been tossed at me hundreds of times, and I’m okay with it.
The thing is, this guy is too pretty. He attracts attention. I don’t want him to attract the wrong attention. Macy’s attention. I want Macy’s attention, and I’m afraid that I won’t be getting it now that this Paul Walker look-alike is sitting right beside me.
Looking up, I find her walking toward us. Pretty boy is partially obscured by a woman leaning forward, so Macy can’t see him yet. She’s coming for me.
Please let one of the dude bartenders serve this guy. They’re keeping the same customers that stay seated at the bar, so if she serves him first, she’ll keep serving him if he stays. He’ll definitely stay because...well, look at her.
Macy comes to stand in front of me, giving me one of those rainbow grins before getting to work on my drink. I’m watching her intently when I hear the pretty boy say, “Hey baby.”
Macy stills for a moment....and another. She takes a deep breath before slowly looking up and over to the pretty boy who obviously knows her. Recognition is evident in her movements. It’s clear that she knew him by his voice alone.
“Hey, Chase.” She smiles at him, but this isn’t a rainbow smile. It’s forced and it doesn’t meet her eyes. Macy isn’t happy to see Chase. I want to be thrilled by this but there’s something in her pinched expression that gives me pause. She doesn’t want him here.
Well, that makes two of us, Macy. I don’t want this asshole here either.
She turns back to me, sliding the drink toward me across the bar.
Her movements are more hesitant now, like she doesn’t know exactly what to do next.
She pauses for a moment after I put my hand around the drink as though she wants to say something, but she doesn’t.
She takes a step backward to walk away when Chase stops her.
He reaches across the bar and snatches her wrist, causing her to look up sharply.
I can see that she’s worried....maybe even scared, but she also has fire in her eyes. Atta girl.
In the deepest tone she can manage, she says, “I told you to never touch me again.”
He doesn’t let her go. Instead, he pulls her toward him, saying, “Please, baby. I told you...I’m sorry. We need to talk about this. You can’t keep ignoring me.”
Every inch of my skin is tingling with awareness, and my eyes are taking in every nuance of the situation. She’s scared of this man, but she doesn’t want to show it. She’s got bravado for sure, but he doesn’t seem to care.
Her eyes narrow even further at his ‘you can’t keep ignoring me’ comment. She cocks her head to the side in a challenge. No trace of the fear I saw only a moment ago is present anymore. “You don’t tell me what to do. I said it’s over, so it’s over.”
Chase squeezes her wrist tighter and jerks her toward him. The other two bartenders notice what’s going on, and they both rush toward Macy but it’s too late. I was here first.