Authors: Monica Alexander
He shrugge
d.
“
Maybe,” he said,
his gaze losing focus for a moment, and I wondered where he’d gone.
Had I brought up a sore subject?
I hadn’t meant to insult him. I was only joking.
I hoped he wasn’t actually depressed.
“
W
hat are you drinking,” he asked then
, snapping his attention back the present
and instantly changing the subject
and his demeanor
.
I’d definitely hit a sore spot
, but it seemed he’d recovered quickly
.
“Um,” I s
aid, looking down at my drink.
“
V
anilla
latte.”
Cute Boy
nodded.
“
Sounds sweet.”
The way he said sweet, his accent wrapping around the word,
caused my mind to drift to an inappropriate place and
my face flushed at the thought.
I bit my lip to keep my thoughts at bay.
“
Um, yeah,” I said,
releasing my lip and
hoping it was dark enou
gh
that he couldn’t see my
blush.
“It’s good, though.
You should try one.”
He nodded.
“Maybe another time.
I need something stronger tonight.”
He left his statement open-ended, almost as if he wanted me to probe
, so I played along.
He seemed like he needed someone to talk to, and who wa
s I do dismiss a
hottie
like him
if he needed
a
sounding board
?
“Why’s that?” I asked, taking a sip of my latte
and playing into the conversation
.
He sighed.
“I’m being forced to assemble wedding favors,” he said, smiling a small, half-smile and shaking his head slightly.
I
was suddenly aware of the frown that had appeared on my face at the idea of this guy being off the market. Yeah, I really had to remember that I had a boyfriend.
“My d
ad,” he said, taking in my expression
, and I instantly exhale
d
a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding
.
“He’s getting married next weekend, so I’m in town for the wedding and his fiancé is freaking out, so I offered to help her put the favors together.”
He put
his index finger to his temple
and mimed shooting a gun at his head.
I laughed.
“That doesn’t sound fu
n,” I said,
wondering how long I could keep the conversation going
with this
complete stranger
who tipped the hotness scales like no one I’d ever seen before
.
“No, it isn’t
going to be, wh
ich is why I need a triple espresso
tonight. It will be the only t
hing
to
get me through it
.”
I laughed
again
.
He was cute and funny.
He shook his head again, laughing along with me before
pushing himself off the pole. “
Okay, I’v
e procrastinated long enough.
Time to get my coffee and return to wedding hell.
”
“Good luck,” I said, extending my over-exaggerated sympathies his
way. He mouthed ‘thank you’ in
an equally over-exaggerated way.
He was being dramatic, but
I knew he
was only half-serious.
He seemed like a nice guy who’d
want to
help out his future step-mother
just because
he knew she needed the help.
I watched as he turned back to Randy who was eyeing him lazily.
“
Well, I’m going to get
a coffee now, Randy,” he said.
“T
hanks for letting me pet you.”
He ruffled Randy’s fur one more time, before
he stood up and headed inside.
I found myself watching him walk, taking in
the sexy, languid
way he moved.
As he stood in line, I could see just enoug
h of him to continue to stare.
I watch
ed
him advance in line, order his drink
,
and wait off to the side for the girl b
ehind the counter to make it.
For some reason, I couldn
’t pull my eyes away from him.
I hypnotically sipped my latte, while trying to remain discreet, so I wouldn’t get caught staring.
He had that bad boy look to him that screamed ‘danger’, but he hadn’t seemed dangerous when he’d been talking to
me
. He’d seemed nice. It was too bad he
w
as just in town visiting, I thought, then instantly wanted t
o clamp my hand over my mouth.
I had a
serious
boyf
riend.
I
really
needed
to
remember
that.
I did not need to be day
dreaming about what I would do with some other guy if he lived here – even if he was insanely hot and
sexy – and especially when what I was envisioning was exactly what I’d been avoiding doing with Ben
the night before
.
I took a deep breath to silence the fighting emotions that had welled up inside me, but I still couldn’t look away
from him
.
When he
walked
back
outside, I smiled
, and he held up his espresso in a sort of salute before walking past me to the parking lot
w
here he got into a black
F150
.
I watched him the whole way.
A
few days l
ater
July 5
th
arrived,
and it was time
for my siblings and me
to join our parents in
t
he Outer Banks
for
a summer of
forced family fun.
Keely and I were
waiting for Chase to return from taking Rachel to get her car since she’d left it at Sara Rossin’s house the night before in our haste to leave the party after everything
had
essentially
turned to shit
.
Rachel
insisted on coming home with me and staying the night, so the next morning, w
hile
I’d finished making sure I had everything packed for the beach and the car was loaded
, Chase
had
offered to drive her
to get her car
,
which I thought w
as completely
thoughtful and completely
out of character for him. Of course
the night before
had been
full
of surprises, including some where Chase had actually been friendly toward me, so I figured I wouldn’t question his offer.
I was exhausted from what seemed like
an endless night that included
me
thinking I was crazy for ever thinking B
en was not t
he right guy for me, then getting
angry at Ben and breakin
g up with him out of the blue
after having too much to drink
,
and
then
shedding more tears than I had in a long time
over said break-up
.
Oh yeah, and
I’d gotten into a fist fight.
It had not been a good night.
In the bright light of the morning,
I knelt in front of my s
uitcase, packing the last of my
clothes
and hoping my stomach would settle down
.
I’d thrown up countless times the night before and was pressed down by that awesome hangover feeling that made my head ac
he and my stomach beg for greasy food
. I’d only experienced it two other times, and I was pretty sure I’d blocked out the pain since I hadn’t remembered it being this intense. Of cou
rse, I was also sporting
red,
puffy eyes since I’d spent the better part of the night
bawling my eyes out
, so
I knew
that couldn’t be helping matters at all.
On top of everything else,
I was
still slightly emotional from the
events of
night before,
fighting the tears that
still
threatened to fall, as
I
wondered if I’d made the right decision in breaking up with Ben
.
It had been so rash and unexpected, but in the moment, it was exactly what I’d wanted.
I picked up a
pair of jeans
and a
filmy white top that were
draped across th
e back of
my
desk chair.
I’d worn both of them to the part
y the night before and had lai
d them across the chair when
I
’d stumbled into my
room at midnight
, flanked by
Rachel
and
my brother, each of them supporting me
since I couldn’t stand on my own
.
Those
two items
were
the last things I had to pack.
They needed to be washed
, as the top was half-soaked in beer and my favorite
pair of jeans had a mud on the back
f
rom when I’d fallen down at
the party
and lande
d in a beer/dirt
concoction
on the floor
.
That had been at the peak of the worst part of the night.
The night had
actually
started out perfect. Ben
had taken me to dinner before and we had plans to leave the party early so we could spend some time alone
, so he’d been in a spectacularly good mood.
Thinking that I needed to let loose and not be so rigid, as Chase and Ben had
both told me I was
, I’d decided to
make the most of the night.
That included getting
drunk – really drunk
– which might have been a mistake
since I wasn’t a big drinker
.
The last time I could remember being drunk was the night sophomore year that led to me thinking I might be pregnant. I usually
drank
socially
,
no more than a beer or two a night. But f
or the first time in a while, I’d let go of all of my
inhibitions
and let loose
,
which turned out to be
error
number one
.
At first, I f
ound myself
having fun,
laughing
,
and smiling na
turally for the first time in months
. I felt so relaxed
,
but
then as is
the way it works with alcohol, I hit a point where
the more I drank, the more things started to go from good to bad to worse
.
I honestly blame Ashleigh Ballast, as looking back it was all her fault that I was now boyfriendless and probably the topic of ma
n
y post-party conversations that would be taking place.
I’d take the blame for the hangover, but everything else was Ashleigh’s fault.
She
had
been in rarer form than usual.
Over the years, I’d come to realize that she had a thing for Ben and had never really gotten over the fact that he’d picked me over her in high school. So
she flirted with him pretty s
hamelessly whenever she saw him. Whatever. I was used to it,
but this time I
actually walked in on her
pawing him
in the kitchen
and rubbing up against him
about
an hour after we’d gotten to the party
which pretty much crossed a line in my book
.