I was still pondering that when his voice, softer now, interrupted my thoughts. "Hey. Melody."
Surprised, I turned to face him. This was the first time he'd said my name. In fact, until this very moment, I hadn't realized that he even knew my name. But of course, he had to know. Everyone knew, just like everyone knew that my parents had died in a private plane crash over Lake Michigan.
It had, after all, made national news.
I said, "Uh, yeah?"
His voice was quiet. "Happy birthday."
I felt color rise to my face. Obviously, he only knew because Aunt Vivian had mentioned it. Still, it was a nice thing for him to say.
I heard myself say, "Thanks."
"Listen, I've got a question."
I gazed up at him, wondering what it was. And, as I looked into his amazing eyes, I wondered something else. What would life be like if I were just a normal girl, some no-name townie with a bunch of siblings, crowded into a bustling house that smelled of bacon in the morning and pie at night?
If I were that girl, would a guy like Joel ever ask me out? Would he ever say something like, "Hey, you wanna hit the beach sometime?"
Would a guy like him – or anyone else, for that matter – ever look at me as something more than Braydon Blaire's only daughter, the theoretical heiress to gobs of money and a massive estate?
Sadly, I'd never know.
But I did know one thing. I liked the sound of my name on his lips. I wanted to hear it again, if not now, then sometime soon.
Standing in the quiet night, I gave a little shake of my head. Damn it. He'd said something, and I hadn't yet responded. I said, "Sorry, what question?"
"How about that party? At T.J.'s. You wanna go?" He glanced toward the Camaro. "Say the word. I'll have you there in five minutes."
I bit my lip. The offer was so very tempting. Still, I had to say it. "Thanks, but I don't think that's a great idea."
"Why not?"
"You ever been to T.J.'s?"
"Yeah. A couple times."
"Well then you know, it's right next to the police station."
"So?"
So, wasn't it obvious? Again, I looked to the Camaro. With what I hoped was a light-hearted laugh, I said, "So you'd probably get arrested."
He shrugged. "Eh, I'll take my chances."
I turned to study his face. From the looks of it, he meant it, too. I was insanely touched.
Still, he had no idea what he was dealing with. He wasn't from around here. But I was.
On the upside, there was practically no crime. On the downside, this gave the police plenty of time to watch for strangers driving stolen hot-rods with missing plates.
Reluctantly, I shook my head. "Honestly, I'm pretty sure we'd get caught."
"Not you," he said. "Me."
"What?"
He flashed me a grin. "You're just the passenger. Remember?"
I stared up at him. The sentiment was so sweet, it was enough to melt my heart. Would he really risk that? For me? A girl he hardly knew?
From the look on his face, he would.
But this realization only stiffened my resolve. There was no way I'd let him take such a risk, and I flat-out told him so. And then, I glanced around, wondering how on Earth I'd tell Cassie that I wasn't coming.
I was still wondering when my gaze landed on the tall, narrow outbuilding that my dad used to call the lighthouse. It wasn't truly a lighthouse, but it sure looked like one.
The building wasn't round, but it was three stories high, with a two-car garage on the bottom, a small guest house on the second floor, and my dad's studio on the very top.
Back when I'd been a kid, my dad used to paint out there for hours. But it wasn't the upper level that had my attention now. It was the lowest one, the garage – and more to the point, what it contained.
I felt my lips curve into a smile. Maybe we couldn't take the Camaro. But we could take something, even if I wasn't technically supposed to.
Chapter 16
When I walked through the front entrance of T.J.'s, Cassie rushed forward to greet me. "Oh, my God!" she squealed, wrapping me in a sloppy hug. "You actually made it!"
Laughing, I said, "Yeah, I took the long way, like the real long way." I pulled back to give her an epic eye-roll. "Don't ask."
Around us, the place was absolutely packed. Like most of the buildings in the small downtown area, T.J.'s wasn't huge. But from what I could see, it more than made up for it in sheer energy.
The music was loud and boisterous, classic rock, courtesy of a live band performing on a raised platform near the far wall. In front of the band, a few dozen people were crowded onto a tiny dance floor, moving in time with the music.
I looked around in amazement. It was like every square inch of the place was packed with people. They were everywhere – standing in front of the long wooden bar off to my left, occupying the few small tables directly in front of us, and crammed into half-a-dozen oversized booths, located to the right of the dance floor.
Zooming in on one booth in particular, I felt my face break into a huge, stupid grin. The booth was overflowing, not only with people, but with colorful balloons and long, yellow streamers, hanging from the dark ceiling.
I turned to Cassie. "Oh, wow. You decorated?"
She smiled. "Not just me. All of us."
I looked back to the booth and felt my eyes grow misty. I saw Dorothy the Librarian, laughing with three of my oldest friends from high school. I also spotted a few newer acquaintances, mostly people I'd met over the last few months, since I'd started working part-time at Cassie's Cookie Shop.
I was so touched, I almost didn't know what to say. The friends from high school, in particular, were a huge surprise, because none of them were living in town anymore, or at least, not usually, since they'd all gone away to college.
At one time, I'd been away at college, too, but this was no time to dwell on my interrupted education. My friends hadn't yet spotted me, and this gave me the chance to savor the surprise, watching their familiar faces as they talked and laughed with each other across the long booth.
Were they all here for me? Just to celebrate my birthday?
My smile faded as a sad realization hit home. I'd kept all of these people waiting, and not only for a few minutes. I turned back to Cassie and said, "I am so sorry I'm late. I don't know what to say."
She laughed. "Don't say anything. It's fine."
I gave her an apologetic look. "But I'm so late. Believe me, if I'd only known…"
She poked me in the ribs. "You weren't supposed to know."
"But–"
She gave me another poke. "You know, I can do this all night, right?"
Laughing now, I tried to squirm away. "But why would you?"
"Because you're supposed to be smiling, not worrying. Now, c'mon, it's your birthday." She leaned forward. "I made you a cake."
"Really?" Cassie made the best cakes. She sold them, too, at her little cookie shop. If this cake tasted anything like the last few I'd sampled, I'd be in serious danger of eating the whole thing.
She grabbed my wrist. "Now c'mon." She gave me a tug, only to pause in mid-motion. She was staring at something near the back of the bar.
I followed her gaze and spotted Joel, talking with one of the bouncers – a big, blond guy in a black T-shirt emblazoned with the bar's logo.
Cassie dropped my wrist. "Oh, crap."
"What?" I asked.
She frowned. "I sure hope Derek doesn't show."
"Why not?"
She pointed toward Joel. "You see that guy?"
Hoping for the best, I said, "The blond?"
She shook her head. "Not the bouncer. The other guy. You do see him, right?"
Oh yeah. I saw him.
Even if I didn't know him, he'd be a hard person to miss. He looked lean and muscular, with a killer body and a perfect face. I glanced around. The way it looked, Cassie and I weren't the only girls staring.
But unlike C
assie, I wasn't surprised to see him. With me running so terribly late, he'd insisted on dropping me off at the front entrance and parking the car on his own. The offer had been so sweet, I couldn't refuse, especially with everyone waiting.
Reluctantly, I said, "Yeah. What about him?"
Cassie lowered her voice. "He's the guy who beat up Derek."
Chapter 17
In my mind, the background noise faded to nothing. My gaze darted from Cassie to Joel and back again. "What?"
"Yeah," she said. "And you know I saw the whole thing."
I shook my head. "No. I didn't know. How come you never told me?"
"I did. Last week. Remember?"
"Sorry, but you didn't. Trust me. That's not something I'd forget."
"Oh come on," she said. "You've got to remember. It was that thing at the beach."
I still wasn't following. "So that's where they fought?"
"Right," she said. "But I told you about it at the cookie shop."
I searched my memories, and finally recalled which conversation she must be talking about. We'd been boxing up cookies when she'd mentioned something about Derek starting a fight with someone, and being totally outmatched.
But for some reason, I'd just assumed it was a verbal fight, not a physical one.
Even now, it made no sense. I saw Derek all the time. If he'd been assaulted, I surely would've noticed. And yet, it would explain Derek's hostility toward Joel earlier.
In front of me, Cassie brightened. "See? You do remember."
"Yeah. But you never mentioned it was a fight-fight."
"I know. Because I figured you knew."
"What made you think that?"
"The way you reacted when I brought it up."
"I reacted?" I said. "How?"
"Like for one, thing, when I mentioned it, you literally covered your ears." She paused. "And said something like, 'If I hear one more word, I'm gonna scream.'"
"Did I?" That sounded awfully rude. "Gosh, Cassie, I'm really sorry…"
She waved away the apology. "You weren't mean or anything. You said it like you were joking, but I could tell you were really bothered."
It was all coming back to me now. She was right. I had been bothered. All summer, Derek had been a total ass-hat. I didn't know what his problem was, but already, I'd had more than enough.
"So anyway," Cassie continued, "I figured it was best to let it drop." She gave Joel a nervous glance. "But now that he's here, we can't exactly avoid it." She bit her lip. "Like, what if they get into another fight or something?"
I shook my head. "But Derek's not even coming."
She perked up. "Really? How do you know?"
"Because you told me. Remember?"
Her shoulders sagged. "On the phone? Sorry, but I meant that he wasn't here yet. But he did say he might stop by." She frowned. "Even if he was all funny about it."
"Funny how?"
"You know, just being kind of a jerk, like he was mad at you or something."
Now, that made sense. I gave Cassie a reassuring smile. "Honestly, I doubt he'll come. Earlier today, we got into this huge fight." I tried to laugh. "And just so you know, I mean the verbal kind. It's not like we 'came to blows' or anything." Under my breath, I added, "surprisingly."
"What'd you fight about?" she asked.
"Well…" I flicked my head toward Joel. "Him, actually."
Cassie's jaw dropped. "You mean the guy who beat him up?"
"Um…"
"So he's here with you?"
Was he? Yeah, I guess he was. He was, after all, the one who drove us here. And, he'd promised to drive me home, too.
But it was more than that. I'd invited him to join the party, assuming that Cassie didn't mind. In theory, I was supposed to be asking her about it, right now. But I'd gotten too distracted, and already, Joel was wading through the crowd, heading toward us.
I was dying to ask Cassie about the fight, but Joel would be here any second, so instead, I asked, "Do you care if he joins us?"
Chapter 18
Two daiquiris and a dozen thin slivers of cake later, I was feeling more mellow than I'd have ever guessed, considering how awful the first part of the day had been.
Ten of us, including Joel, were crammed obscenely tight into a long booth designed for eight. For the third time, April called out to Joel, "Are you sure you don't want a beer or something?"
Joel glanced toward me and said, "Nah. I'm good."
Listening to this, I felt a twinge of guilt. To think, I'd invited him here, only to have him sit, stone-cold sober, while everyone around him got totally smashed.
Plus, he was the only guy at our booth. That had to be at least a little awkward, right?
Feeling guiltier than ever, I told him, "If you want to drink, I'm sure I could find someone here to give me a ride home."
He shook his head. "Not a chance."
"Why not?" I asked.
As an answer, his dark eyes scanned our surroundings. I turned and saw what he saw – people dancing, drinking, laughing, talking, and yes, in some cases, staggering.
The way it looked, there wasn't a sober person in sight.
I turned back to him and said, "Okay, how about this? I'll stop drinking, so you can."
His mouth twitched at the corners. "Or…" He leaned his head closer to mine. "You could have another daiquiri, and let me worry about getting us home."
Home. On his lips, that word sounded nice – nicer, in fact, than the reality of it all.
In some ways, the house hadn't seemed like a home for a very long time. But now, gazing into the soulful eyes of a guy who had, until today, been a total stranger, that sad reality seemed blissfully far away.
Joel was close – so achingly close. If I wanted to, I could kiss him. And I was pretty sure I did want to. Sure, I'd have to lift my head a little higher, and lean into him all sultry-like. But I definitely could kiss him. And who knows, he might even kiss me back.
I didn't want another daiquiri. I wanted to be someone else, if only for a few hours. I wanted to be the kind of girl who didn't spend her nights lying awake worrying, and her days working seasonal jobs that everyone assumed I did for kicks, rather than for the money.
Sadly, they assumed wrong.
And being the sentimental sap that I was, I couldn’t bring myself to correct them – and not only because I was embarrassed. Mostly, it was because it seemed like such a betrayal to my parents' memories, to admit to the whole world how badly they'd screwed everything up.
Damn it. I didn't want to think about this. I wanted a distraction, or heck, even a brand new life with a brand new name. Maybe if I were somewhere else, I could be the kind of girl who did what I wanted, and said exactly what was on my mind.
Or maybe – a crazy thought settled over me – I could be that girl right here, right now. I leaned closer to Joel, and the words I'd been wanting to say tumbled from my lips. "If you wanted, you could kiss me."
On Joel's face, I caught the hint of a smile. His gaze dipped to my lips, and I saw a flash of interest. Real interest. But then, he squashed my hopes by repeating the same three words he'd said just a few moments earlier. "Not a chance."
I drew back. "Why not?"
His gaze shifted to the curvy cocktail glass sitting right in front of me. The glass was empty. And next to that glass was another glass, also empty. And then, there was that tiny shot glass sitting off to the side.
I looked back to Joel. Trying to laugh off my humiliation, I said, "Are you implying that I'm drunk?"
"You're supposed to be drunk. It's your twenty-first, remember?"
As if I could forget. Pushing aside my embarrassment, I looked around the table and felt a goofy smile spread over my face. It was a smile of gratitude. And yes, maybe a fraction of that smile was fueled by the daiquiris. But mostly, I was incredibly thankful for the friends who'd come out celebrate with me.
Already, we'd been here for a couple of hours, and I'd been loving the chance to ca
tch up with old friends and get to know the newer ones better. I'd already had cake, presents, and yes, more drinks than I'd normally want.
This wasn't my first time drinking, but it was my first time drinking legally. I looked back to Joel and said, "How about you? Are you twenty-one?"
As an answer, he made a point to look around, as if to say, "We are in a bar, remember?"
I had to laugh. "Forget I asked. So, when did you turn twenty-one?"
"Last year." He gave our surroundings another glance. "From what I remember, it was a hell of a party."
I bit my lip. "Are you sure you don't want a drink?"
"Nah. I'm good."
"Are you absolutely sure? Because honestly, I'm feeling kind of guilty."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because I’m pretty sure you're the only sober person in here."
With a secret smile, he leaned closer. "You think that's a bad thing?"
"Um, well…" Whatever I'd been planning to say evaporated somewhere between my throat and tongue.
Just maybe, he'd kiss me after all.
I waited.
No kiss.
Damn it.
Maybe he had a girlfriend, or simply wasn't interested. Or maybe, he'd already had enough female attention for one day.
Suddenly, I was dying to know something. Trying to sound casual, I said, "Hey, just curious, did the interns ever catch you?"
"What interns?"
I didn't even know their names, because they'd arrived late and had missed the introductions. And then, they'd left early to chase after Joel.
But had they caught him?
I tried to sound like it was no big deal. "At my house, earlier today, there were a couple of girls who seemed really eager to meet you." I gave a nervous laugh. "I was pretty sure they chased you down in the driveway or something."
"Oh, them?" Joel shrugged. "Yeah, I met them."
"And?"
"And nothing."
"What do you mean, nothing?" From what I recalled, they'd both been quite attractive in that classic college-student sort of way. "Didn't you like them?"
"Eh, they were alright."
Normally, I wouldn't be so persistent, but whether it was because of the alcohol, or because of him, I couldn't bring myself to let it go. "But…?"
Something Tattered (Joel Bishop Book 1) Page 7