Chapter 5 David
Chapter Five
David
I don’t want my picture taken.
And I sure as hell don’t want to stand here boxed in by half a dozen teenage girls shrieking like I just descended from the heavens.
But they’re fans.
So I do what I always do.
Smile. Nod. Sign. Pose.
This is my life on autopilot.
“Just one more—”
“Can you say hi to my friend—”
“I love you—”
Yeah.
I know.
I’ve heard it all before.
And I appreciate my fans—I really do.
But right now? None of it lands.
Not tonight.
Because my attention?
It’s not here.
It’s across the room.
On her.
“Alright, Bella, ladies,” Nate’s voice cuts through the chaos like a clean guitar riff. “Let’s give Mr. Mars a break. He’s a friend, not a tourist attraction.”
The girls groan but scatter, Bella lingering just long enough to shoot me one last starstruck look before she disappears into the crowd.
Cute kid.
I recognize her from a few voice clips Nate sent me a while back—raw recordings, rough but promising.
I remember I made a mental note to circle back.
Maybe even help her out.
But that’s work.
And I didn’t come here to work.
Truth is, I’m not entirely sure why I came here.
At least, I wasn’t.
Until about five minutes ago.
Because now I know exactly what caught my attention.
Hilary.
AKA Larry—but nah.
I won’t call her Larry because that name doesn’t suit her.
To me, she’s Sunshine.
Yeah.
Sunshine fits.
Because her smile?
Jesus.
It lights up the whole damn room.
And I can’t stop looking at her.
She’s sitting beside Adrianna now, smaller somehow in this setting, like she’s trying to blend into the background—but she doesn’t.
How can she with that riot of curls atop her head and the little dress hinting at the plentiful curves I know are hidden beneath it?
Hell.
Half the street knows about her curves since she was hanging out that trunk waving her gorgeous ass in the air like a freaking spotlight.
So, sitting there pretending to be demure? Nah. That ain’t gonna fly.
Not by a long shot.
Truth is, Sunshine is softer than what I usually go for.
She’s thicker.
Her cheeks are plump,, and she’s got dimples I’m dying to dip my tongue in.
Fuck. I don’t wanna be the guy sitting at a baby shower with a boner, but here I am.
And all I’m thinking is maybe I’ve had it wrong all this time, because every part of me is locked in on every inch of her—and it’s like she’s the only thing that matters in this house full of people.
Those hazel eyes.
That short, wild, untamed hair.
Her shapely legs peeking from beneath her short dress.
But the way she won’t quite look at me now?
Yeah, I don’t like that.
I want her eyes on me.
“David,” Adrianna says, pulling me in with a warm hug.
She’s glowing—happy, settled, completely at ease in a way I don’t think I’ve ever been.
“Did you—oh my God, is this for me?”
She’s already crouching in front of the gift, fingers brushing over the bow, eyes lighting up.
“Wow,” she breathes. “Did you do this?”
I shake my head, a little awkward, suddenly aware I’ve been hauling this thing around like some kind of delivery guy.
“Nah,” I say, jerking my chin toward Hilary. “That’s from linda over here.”
Her head snaps up.
Adrianna’s grin widens.
“Leendah?”
She repeats it phonetically, and her gaze lands on a now blushing Hilary.
“Of course it is. Thanks, Larry. Or should I say, linda?”
“Thanks for carrying it,” Hilary murmurs, still not quite meeting my eyes.
Yeah, I definitely don’t like that.
Something tight pulls in my chest, sharp and unexpected.
Nate nudges my shoe with his.
Hard.
I glance at him.
He lifts a brow like, get it together, man.
Right.
Focus.
“Here,” I say, setting the bookshelf down carefully.
The women immediately crowd in, cooing over it, running their hands over the details, the painted wood, the tiny books tucked inside.
Hilary finally looks up.
Just for a second.
And it hits again—that same quiet, electric pull.
Yeah. This is a problem.
“Want a beer?” Nate asks, clapping a hand on my shoulder.
I nod.
“Yeah.”
We step away from the noise, from the laughter, from the swirl of pastel decorations and baby talk. Away from her.
And this is why I came.
Or at least, why I told myself I made the trip to Hammonton.
But even as we move toward the kitchen, grab a couple of beers, lean against the counter like we’ve done a hundred times before—my gaze drifts.
Back to her.
Sunshine.
And I don’t have the first clue what the hell I’m supposed to do about that.
Nate twists the cap off his beer and takes a long pull before glancing sideways at me.
I lean back against the counter, doing my best to look casual.
And failing, apparently.
“You keep staring at Larry.”
I don’t even try to deny it.
“Her name is Hilary. And I’m not staring,” I mutter.
He snorts. “Yeah, okay. And I’m not hosting a baby shower right now.”
I drag a hand down the back of my neck, exhaling slow. “She just caught my eye.”
“That so?” His tone shifts—less teasing now, more watchful.
“Yeah. Whatever.”
A beat.
Then Nate straightens, “Look, Larry—Hilary—is my wife’s best friend. She’s not from your world, man.”
I stiffen slightly.
“And? I know that.”
“Do you?” Nate pushes off the counter, turning fully toward me now. “Because I know the crowd you run with. I know the scene you live in. And that woman in there?” He shakes his head. “She’s not built for that.”
Something in my chest tightens.
“I didn’t say she was.”
“And she’s not one of those girls you’re used to either,” he continues, voice low but firm. “She’s not bouncing from club to club or bed to bed chasing a name or a moment.”
I don’t like the edge that creeps into my tone. “You think I don’t know the difference? Fuck, Nate.”
“I’m not trying to be a dick, but I think,” Nate says evenly, “you’re used to a certain kind of attention from a woman. And she’s not giving you that. Which probably makes you want her more.”
Damn. He’s not wrong.
I look past him, straight back to where she’s sitting with Adrianna, laughing softly at something, her shoulders relaxed now, sunlight catching in those wild curls.
She looks happy.
Innocent.
Untouched by all the noise I came from.
“Yeah,” I admit quietly. “It does.”
Nate watches me for a second, then sighs, scrubbing a hand over his jaw.
“I’m not saying don’t talk to her,” he says. “I’m saying be real clear with yourself before you do.”
I don’t respond.
Because what the hell am I supposed to say to that?
That I felt something the second I saw her?
That it hit harder than anything I’ve felt in years?
That just standing next to her made everything else go quiet?
Yeah. I’m not saying all that.
It makes me sound fucking insane.
“She’s a good person,” Nate adds. “She built her store—The Book Shop—from nothing. Takes care of everyone around her. She’s good people, bro.”
I huff out a breath.
“Yeah. I noticed.”
“And she deserves someone who’s not gonna treat her like a pit stop.”
That lands.
Hard.
Because that’s exactly what I’ve done before.
Too many times.
“I didn’t come here for a woman,” I say, more to myself than him.
Nate studies me, then nods once.
“Good.”
Silence stretches between us for a second.
“Besides,” he adds, a hint of a grin creeping back in, “if you screw with her, Adrianna will personally end you.”
I bark out a laugh despite myself.
“Noted.”
But even as the moment lightens, my gaze drifts again.
Right back to her.
Sunshine.
And for the first time in a long time, I’m not sure I trust myself.