Page 425 of Summer Heat
“How long was the girl here?” I ask him and take a look around the counter. This section of the bar is small and narrow. There’s a lone window on the other side and it’s cracked open, letting in a small breeze.
“Addison?” he asks, saying her name out loud and I don’t trust myself to speak as the anger swells inside of me, so I wait for him to look at me and give a short nod.
“Not long,” he answers and gets back to wiping down a few of the glasses still lined up on the far side of the sink. “She left right after you.”
“What was she here for?” I ask him and pray it wasn’t for a meet. They’re all done here. It’s the perfect place, in the perfect town. Any necessary conversations can happen right here. And any arguments can be settled in the back … with those bricks. But this city may be more useful and profitable. Time will tell.
“Just coming in for a drink.”
I nod my head and remember how I’ve found a few guys I know sitting at the bar, completely oblivious to what was going on around them. Like Dean. He had no idea; he was too wrapped up in his own story to realize what was happening here.
“Who is she?” Jake asks, interrupting my recollection.
“A girl,” I answer and then go back to being the one asking the questions. “She come in with anyone?”
“Nope, she’s single. She didn’t say she knew anyone or that she was looking for anyone.” He replies with the information I was hoping for. It was just a coincidence that she was here. But the way he answers it doesn’t quite sit right with me.
He’s a funny kid and a good guy in some ways, but he’s the type who looks the other way and likes to pretend everything’s friendly and fine and nothing fucked up is going on.
I don’t have any problems with him. Yet.
“Is that so?”
“Yeah, she’s looking at going to the university. New to town. You know, that kind of thing.”
“Hey Jake,” I start and wait for him to look up at me. “How do you know her name?” My body’s tense and tight, even though I don’t think he has a clue how badly I’ll fuck him up if he hit on her. He’s a flirt, young and carefree. He gets plenty of action from girls coming in here to get a drink and drown out their problems with alcohol.
The fucker looks up at me like it’s a given and says, “From her credit card.”
I don’t like his tone, or the ease with which he talks about her. But my body’s relaxed, and the smile on my face grows as I tell him, “Of course. Sorry, she’s got me a little wound up.”
“I could tell.” My back stiffens at his confession. “I mean I get it, she’s hot,” he says, completely oblivious to how my hand reflexively forms a fist. He shrugs and dries off the last glass. “You want me to keep tabs on her?”
The correct answer is no. But it’s not the word that slips from my tongue. “Yes,” I reply and it comes out harder than it should, with a desperate need clinging to the single syllable.
Jake pauses and takes in my appearance.
“I have a soft spot for her,” I tell him and inwardly I hate myself. Both for the lie and for the hint at the truth. He nods his head and hangs up the dish towel in his hands.
“So she’s going to the university?” I ask him and he returns to his normal easy self.
“I didn’t get much information from her. She’d just gotten here and Mickey was at the bar.”
“Well, don’t worry about it. But if she comes in here again, text me.”
“No problem. You need anything else?” he asks and I remind him of my earlier question.
“Did Marcus come?” I already know the answer. He hasn’t shown up yet. Carter, my brother, messaged me to let me know not to waste my time in the bar tonight. But I know Marcus is a lot like me. He likes to know people’s habits and if I tell him I’ll meet him, I want him to know I’ll be there.
This isn’t my first run-in with him. Last time it took weeks before he finally showed.
There aren’t a lot of men I’d wait on, but Carter says this is important and Marcus and I have history.
“He didn’t. I don’t know why he- “
“Looks like you’re almost done,” I cut him off with a trace of a smile on my lips. “Sorry to keep you.”
“Not a problem,” he says to my back as I turn and leave the bar.
