Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
The Book Bar is different on Friday nights.
Most of the time, it’s cozy and quiet. A good place to have a drink with friends or sit and write by yourself.
Sometimes Kiara and I come here for afternoon ‘book dates.’ We each order a coffee drink, buy a paperback, and read quietly side-by-side.
Occasionally, we’ll read passages we like aloud to one another. It’s pretty much my dream date.
I once suggested it to Kane, and he told me it was the most boring date idea he’d ever heard.
When I tried to argue that it was relaxing, he accused me of thinking he wasn’t as interesting as my books.
We ended up staying on his couch watching an action movie together.
The whole time I tried to figure out how that was different from reading books together. I never figured it out.
A year later, the memory still makes my chest ache with how similar it feels to all those times Jeremy told me to put my book down and socialize, all the times I was told I was being rude for reading at a party, all the times I was called anti-social for having my nose in a book, even when everyone else had their eyes glued to a screen.
I shake off the ghost memories and scan the room for Kiara.
Tonight, the Book Bar is less English library and more frat party.
Not my scene. I’m kind of shocked so many people are interested in open mic night.
Either some real talent attracts crowds, or a few of the readers are just very popular and invited everyone they know.
I want to run, but I told Kiara I’d be here, and I can’t leave without seeing her perform. Especially since she’s been begging me to come with her all semester, and I haven’t.
As I weave through the room, I bump into a table, snag my sweater on the buckle of a purse hanging over the edge of a chair, and almost knock over a guy’s drink. He doesn’t look old enough to have it anyway, but I still feel like an out-of-place klutz. I hate navigating places like this.
When a rowdy group jumps up from their table to smash their chests together in some show of machoism, I hop back too quickly and slam my heel down on someone’s foot.
“Ow!” the man yells, but when he looks down at me his frown lifts. He’s tall with shoulders so wide I can’t see around him. He’s wearing a Portland Trail Blazers’ jersey and holding two empty beer mugs in one hand. Not exactly the poetry-reading type, but hey, who am I to judge?
His lips lift in a sleazy smile as his eyes linger on my chest. “Hey there, beautiful. Where are you going in such a hurry?”
Away from you. “Sorry,” I mumble, turning away.
He grabs my elbow, fingers digging in. “Buy me a drink. It’d go a long way toward easing the pain.”
“I, um…” I did step pretty hard on his foot.
Do I owe him a drink? What’s the social etiquette here?
Is there one? I need to think of something to say that’ll get me out of this without hurting his feelings or making him call me a bitch.
I’ve been told way too often that I’m rude and bitchy, and I really can’t deal with that right now.
My mind is spinning at a hundred miles per hour, but also somehow absolutely still. Blank. Like every thought has left, and all that’s remained is panic. I have no idea how to navigate this social situation, and I hate that.
“Come on now, sweetheart,” he says, smiling. “It’s just a drink.”
“I don’t… I can’t…” My heart hammers in my chest, but no matter how hard I try I can’t think of the right thing to say. It’s like the pages have been ripped out of my brain, and now my only thought is just the pound of my heart trying to break out of my ribcage and run away.
His smile grows as if he likes my flustered state. “Or I’d settle for a squeeze of those pretty tits.”
I should slap him. I want to slap him, but I can’t seem to move.
Just as my panic blooms into something ugly, covered with spikes that cut through my chest and shred my lungs, I spot a familiar face.
Not Kiara and Sullivan, but Cosmos. He’s sitting a few tables over with a girl who has the most beautiful dark auburn hair I’ve ever seen, the tips dyed a bright fire-engine red, making her seem dangerous and alluring all at once.
I’m suddenly glad I cleaned myself up. It wasn’t much, but I took a quick shower in Mom’s bathroom, found the cleanest outfit I had with me, and did my hair, temporarily saying goodbye to the bird’s nest. At least for tonight.
Cosmos’ gaze travels from the hand on my elbow to my face, and everything stops.
Everyone pauses mid-sentence, and I’m able to take my first deep breath since I walked in.
The quiet is like slipping into a cold pool on a hot day.
It wraps around me and immediately soothes my nerves.
Lovely, lovely quiet. Even the intensity of Cosmos’ gaze feels calming right now.
“You okay?” he asks into the silence.
“Not exactly.” I pull my arm out of the stranger’s grip and rub at my elbow, trying to erase the feel of his clammy fingers.
“I take it he’s not one of your friends.” Cosmos gives me a casual smile that ripples my heart. “Need some help?”
“Yes,” I sigh. “Please.”
He looks away, and immediately my arm is back in the man’s hold.
“You look like the kind of girl who needs a good squeeze.” Smashed Foot Man puts some pressure on my elbow, pulling me toward him. “What’s your name, baby?”
Not baby, that’s for sure. After those few seconds of silence with Cosmos, my panic has shrunk back in on itself to that place where it hides between visits. My brain is functioning again. I’m about to tell Smashed Foot to let go of me when an arm slips around my shoulders.
“There you are,” Cosmos says, gently kissing the top of my head. It shouldn’t be so arousing. He’s kissing my hair. It’s friendly, safe, nothing more. But it’s also tender, familiar, and it makes something in my chest hurt.
Smashed Foot drops my arm and steps back, holding up both palms. “Sorry, man. Your girl should have said something.”
Cosmos looks right at Smashed Foot. “Apparently, she’s too nice to tell someone they’re being an asshole.”
Smashed Foot clenches his fist. For a moment I wonder how this is going to go. He takes a step back, looking me up and down with a scowl.
“Not worth it,” he says before backing up and dissolving into the crowd.
The words sting more than they should. I don’t want to be worth it to this man, but his comment echoes my own thoughts so perfectly that the bridge of my nose burns with trapped tears.
I fiddle with the strap on my purse, not looking at Cosmos. “Thanks.”
“Happy to oblige.” He drops his arm off my shoulder, and I immediately miss the warmth.
“I would have gotten rid of him… eventually.” Shifting my weight, I switch my purse from one shoulder to the other. “I just didn’t know what to say. Sometimes I… kind of freeze up. So, thanks.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” His hand settles on the small of my back as he guides me toward his table. “Fake dating is my favorite romance novel trope. I’ve always wanted to rescue a damsel in distress by pretending to be her boyfriend.”
“I’m not a damsel in distress.” Okay, fine, I was definitely in distress, so I guess it’s a lie, but that’s not how I want him to see me. I want to be stronger than that. Wish I was stronger than that.
He rubs his palm down his face and over the back of his neck. “That didn’t come out right.”
The girl sitting at Cosmos’ table jumps up when we get close. “Who’s this?”
She’s young, or at least, much younger than me, if I had to guess.
She’s wearing a shirt with a silhouette of a drum kit on it, and she’s got almost every part of her face pierced—ears, nose, lip.
I wonder if her tongue is pierced too. She’s pretty.
Really pretty, but with a hard edge that makes it feel like she’s trying to cover it up, or scare people away.
She’s not the type of girl I imagined Cosmos dating.
“Ivy, this is Hazel Berton.” Cosmos gives no indication of who Ivy is to him, but it’s easy to see how comfortable they are with each other. He also didn’t say how he knows me, so I don’t volunteer the information. I don’t want to get him into trouble.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, looking between the two of them. I wish my cheeks weren’t so warm and my heart wasn’t so disappointed to see him with someone else.
Ivy bounces on her toes, tilts her head to one side, and studies me before bursting into light laughter. “I’m not his girlfriend, you know. I’m his sister. And he totally should have led with that, but sometimes Cosmos is clueless.”
Relief I have no business feeling washes over me. That’s right. He said he was hanging out with his sister tonight. I just assumed he was talking about Julia. I forgot he said he has multiple sisters.
“I’m not clueless. I just—” He shifts away from Ivy and sighs. “Hazel’s mom is a patient.”
“Ohhh.” Ivy’s whole expression changes. She bounces from toe-to-toe and spins so she’s fully facing Cosmos. “Is this—?” She doesn’t finish her sentence, waiting for Cosmos to answer whatever she’s implying.
Did he tell his whole family about me? Why would he do that?
Cosmos looks more uncomfortable than I’ve ever seen him. He rubs his jaw repetitively.
Ivy must take his silence as some kind of answer, because she suddenly lunges at me and wraps me in a hug. “I’m so glad to meet you. We’re going to be great friends. I just know it.”
With his sister’s arms strangling me, my eyes catch on Cosmos. I want him to look at me and explain whatever the hell just happened, but he’s staring at his feet.
When she pulls away, I try to extricate myself from the situation. “I should go look for my friends.” I dig in my purse for my phone, hoping Kiara’s already here and has a table somewhere. “They should be here, but I haven’t seen them yet.”
“The only place left to sit is on the floor, and I don’t think you want to do that.
” Ivy shakes her head with a disgusted pinch of her lips.
She’s right. There’s already a group sitting on the floor by the stage, and my chances of finding a seat are slim.
But, reality is what it is. I can’t change it. I know that better than most.
“You should join us.” Ivy waves her hand at the two empty seats.
“Aren’t you saving these for someone?”
She casts Cosmos a pointed glare. Then, grins at me. “Cos has been scaring people away from them for the last thirty minutes, even though no one else we know is coming.”
Oh. Oh.
My attention swings to her brother. He’s scrubbing at his face again. It must be a nervous tic. “You weren’t supposed to tell her that.”
I’m not sure how to take this. It’s sweet. But also overwhelming. We weren’t coming here together. We aren’t supposed to be fraternizing at all.
“This is weird. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—” He shakes his head and picks up a thin leather jacket. It’s kind of cute to see overly confident Cosmos flustered like this. “Come on, Ivy, let’s go. This isn’t—”
Ivy pokes him in the chest with her index finger. “No way. You promised me you’d read a poem tonight.”
He writes poetry? Of course, he writes poetry. Like he wasn’t perfect enough already.
“Besides,” Ivy says. “Mack’s band is playing at the end, and I already told him I could give him a ride home. I’m staying even if you’re not.”
I touch Cosmos’ forearm, and his muscles flex under my fingers. “Stay.”
The room is still and silent again, and there’s a question in his eyes that I don’t know how to discern, let alone answer.
“Stay,” I repeat on a shaky breath.
“Will you join us?” He looks nervous, but I can’t tell if he’s afraid I’ll say no, or that I’ll say yes. Sitting with them feels like a bad idea. He already explained that hospital rules wouldn’t allow this, but… I don’t want to leave.