"Are you sure, sweetheart? I mean--"
The petite brunette moves in closer, giving me her most intimidating glare. "My name is Aria. Not sweetheart, not princess, not Cinderella. Now please order my fucking parts so I can get the fuck out of this town and the fuck away from you!"
My eyes widen as she turns and stomps back inside my shop.
Looks like we've got ourselves a live one.
I lag behind, watching to make sure she's safe but also giving her some room to cool off. If there's one thing I know about, it's anger, and this little spitfire is drowning in it.
There's a part of me that wants to comfort her, tell her I can fix it for her and that everything will work out.
But the more sensible part of me knows that the best thing I can do for her and myself is to keep my distance. The only thing that comes from getting close to a girl like this is trouble.
The sun is setting behind me and my stomach growls to remind me it's dinner time. I think about grabbing a burger at The Driftwood, when it hits me that Aria has nowhere to go.
"Shit," I grumble, running a large hand down my face. I push inside the shop and find her sitting in the gray plastic chair in the lobby reading an old, worn copy of Classic Cars Magazine. "Where are you staying tonight, Aria?"
It's the first time I've said her name. It feels warm on my tongue, almost forbidden. Like a peasant like me should never have the privilege of speaking it.
Her eyebrows furrow as she searches my face. No doubt she's wondering why I'm suddenly speaking to her like she's a person instead of some rich little Daddy's girl, and I don't blame her.
"I haven't really thought about it yet," she admits in a soft voice. "Is there a hotel or something around here?"
"None that are safe for someone like you," I admit. Her frown returns and I shake my head. "Sorry. I didn't mean it the way it sounded. I just meant that I don't think you should stay there."
"Oh. Okay." Her bottom lip trembles and she turns her head to hide her despair.
Jesus. I may be a hard-ass, but I'm not a monster. I'm not about to let this girl go out and get hurt on her own.
"Let me make a quick phone call, okay?" I pull out my phone while she nods and scroll through my contacts. When I reach the name I'm searching for, I press call. "Hey, babe. It's me."
Aria flinches at my words. She sniffs haughtily and turns her head away to give me some privacy, but I step inside the office anyway and close the door. By the time I'm done on the phone, I've solved one of Aria's problems.
"Alright, kid. Let's go for a ride."
Three
Aria
Aunt Bev is livid when I call, just like I knew she would be. She wants to send a private car to pick me up, but I refuse to tell her where I am. If they think I'm mature enough to get married, then I should be mature enough to stay on my own in a small beach town for a couple of days.
I look over at Max while he drives, running my eyes over the muscles that flicker in his jaw. His hands are wrapped around the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles are white. He radiates hatred towards me, and it bothers me more than it should.
It's not the first time someone has disliked me on sight.
It's just the first time I let myself care.
I like this guy, this strapping mechanic with the selective smile. He's surly and sarcastic, but when he lets himself look into my eyes, I can see a warmth he tries to hide away.
I like him, and I don't know why, but I want him to like me, too.
So, when he made the phone call a few minutes ago, when his features softened and his voice became even huskier, a spark of envy shot through my chest. He has grease permanently embedded in his skin and a scowl that rivals Grumpy Cat's, but God help me, I want him to speak to me the way he was speaking to the girl on the phone.
Instead, he looks at me like I'm something he peeled off the bottom of his shoe.
Though he hasn't said it specifically, I think we are on our way to see his mystery girl now. If I have to watch him be sweet and lovey with her right in front of me, I'll gouge out my eyes with a fork.
His left hand is still bandaged, but there's a good bit of blood seeping through already. "How's your hand?" I try to keep my voice cold and uncaring like he does, but I can't help the honey that coats my words.
He flicks his eyes over to me and shrugs. "I'll survive," he grunts.
"Alright. Good talk." I slide down into the chair and swallow back the anger I'm feeling. Anger towards my Aunt Bev, towards my father, towards that loser River. At least I don't have to see any of them tonight, and if Max is right, I won't have to see them for a few days.
We are only in the car maybe ten minutes before he pulls to a stop in front of a modest bungalow. There are only three homes on this street and although they are small and in need of some work, I can tell it's a nicer area than the one we've just come from.
"Come on," he mumbles as his gargantuan legs slide out of the truck. I follow him up the cement stairway to an emerald green front door.
The color of jealousy. Perfect.
My envy only intensifies when a petite raven-haired beauty opens the door. Her eyes sparkle like sapphires, glowing even brighter when they land on Max.
"BFG," she grins, opening the door wide to let us inside. A gray sweater is wrapped around her, three sizes too big, and dips off her shoulder enticingly. I swallow and look away when she turns her smile towards me.
“Smurfette.” Max wraps his arms around her and lifts her in the air. Her laugh is angelic and rings through the air like the soft tinkle of a bell.
My scowl deepens.
Max places her back on the floor with tender care. "Eden, this is Aria. She in a tight spot and needs a place to crash tonight."
"Of course! Hi, Aria. It's nice to meet you." She's lovely, exuding a soft kindness that I can't ignore. I shift my eyes to hers and the guilt hits instantly.
"Thank you. I appreciate it."
"Any time." Her eyes widen when she spots the bandaged hand Max has been hiding from her. "What the heck?" She grabs his hand and squeaks in protest when he tries to pull it back. "What did you do now, Maxwell Hudson?"
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “It’s nothing, babe. Just a scratch.”
An amused giggle bubbles up from my lips. “If that’s just a scratch I’d love to see what you consider an actual injury.” I turn to Eden with a smirk. “You should’ve seen the place when that nurse was finished bandaging him up. It looked like a crime scene in there.”
He frowns at me, raising one thick eyebrow as he waits for me to stop talking. “Are you finished? Snitches get stitches, you know.”
“And so do dickheads, apparently,” I snap. He shoots me a look of utter contempt.
I clamp my lips together and feel my cheeks burn under his stare. Every time our eyes meet, I feel this weird buzzing beneath my skin and it’s becoming harder to ignore. I swallow hard and nod my head at him. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.”
His features soften. “No problem. I’m sorry, too.” He offers me a half smile that has my breath catching in my throat. If half a smile has that effect on me, I don’t even want to know how fast I’d melt for a full grin.
Eden drops his hand with a sigh and steps into the small kitchen to retrieve a First Aid Kit. She finds it quickly, shooting daggers with her eyes at Max as she moves back towards him. They’re definitely daggers of affection, though. They care deeply about each other and it’s easy to see how close they are.
The thought of her lovingly tending to his wound has my stomach churning, and a wave of nausea crashes over me. “Do you have a restroom I can use?”
“Just down the hall and on the left,” she smiles kindly. She’s so sweet, it’s getting really hard to hate her adorable guts.
Pictures of Eden with dozens of other people line the walls on the way to the bathroom. I see at least two of her and Max, and Nate’s in some of them, too. She has a magnetic personality, and it’s clear
she has an abundance of loved ones.
Must be nice.
As soon as I step inside the bathroom, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. The dullness of my eyes and the lack of color in my cheeks tells me what I already know—I've waited too long to eat again. I knew I should have grabbed an extra candy bar at the store, but I was in such a hurry I didn’t want to go back for another. I’ve been a huge inconvenience to Max already, and Eden’s letting me stay here, so I don’t want to ask for food. Instead, I cup my hands under the faucet and drink down some cold tap water. That will have to do, for now.
I swipe on some lipstick and fuss with my chestnut waves until they're laying softly around my shoulders. With one last sigh, I open the door and pray I don't pass out.
"Oh, give it up, Max. I can see right through this, you know." I hear Eden's irritated whisper from the doorway and freeze in place. "You like her."
"No way. She's an entitled little daddy's girl with a bad temper and even worse sense of danger," Max scoffs quietly. When I hear him repeat back every single thing that I already hate about myself, my chest tightens.
"Bullcrap. This is exactly how you acted when Melanie Baker moved to town." Eden huffs dramatically and I press myself up against the wall to be sure they don't see me. I don't want to eavesdrop, but if I'm somehow coming between two lovers, I need to know.
"Yeah, and look how that turned out. I leave town for one night and she's on her knees for both Fitzgerald brothers!" Max's voice is well above a whisper now, and I should definitely reveal myself.
But I need more information.
"I don't think this girl is Melanie Baker, Max. And I don't think you do, either. I know you have issues, but for gosh sakes, let yourself feel something for once."
Wait a minute. Is she encouraging him to like me?
Maybe they aren't lovers after all. Ignoring the way my heart flutters at the possibility, I decide to find out for sure. "Hey, guys." I step inside the living room and they both stiffen. The awkward silence stretches on between us until I clear my throat. "You have a lovely home, Eden. I really appreciate you letting me stay here tonight."
She smiles, a genuine grin that lights her whole face, and I can't help but smile back. "It will be nice to have the company. It's been too quiet since my roommate moved out last month."
"Thanks." My hands are starting to shake, so I shove them into the pockets of my blood-stained skirt. "So, how long have you two been dating?"
Eden and Max turn to look at each other and burst into laughter. Max's laugh is lovely, rich and deep and hearty. It warms my chest, and for a second, I wish I could make it my ringtone.
He looks at me with a smile still spread across his face and I see that I was right. His grin has the power to turn my heart to mush.
He is so beautiful.
"We are so not a couple," Eden says, scrunching her face in mock disgust.
"We've known each other most of our lives." Max scratches at the back of his neck and I can see I've hit a nerve.
"Oh. Sorry. You just seem so close." My hands are trembling now in my pockets and I am too embarrassed to hide it anymore. "Look, I'm sorry to ask, but my blood sugar is dropping and I feel sick. Do you happen to have some juice?"
"Oh, my gosh. Of course!" Eden scurries to the kitchen while Max's eyes search my face.
I can practically feel it the moment he puts it all together.
"You're diabetic. That's why you had to stop at Millie's like that, isn't it?" His voice is laced with remorse.
"Yep. Since I was fifteen years old," I shrug. "I'm usually really good at watching myself, but I've had a lot going on lately. I slipped up twice today, but it's the first day in years that I've forgotten a meal."
His features soften. "I'm sorry. That's a hard thing to have to deal with." He takes my hand and leads me over to an oversized armchair in the corner. "Sit down. Please?"
Eden rushes over to me with a bottle of apple juice and a concerned frown. "You poor thing."
I drink the juice slowly, feeling my blood sugar rise higher with each sip. After a few minutes, I feel like my old self.
"Please tell me your insulin wasn’t in your suitcase," Max says through clenched teeth. He's making eye contact with me regularly now, and though it should help me feel better, it's making my knees weak.
"Nah, I always carry it in my purse. I learned my lesson a few years ago when someone stole it from my glove compartment as a joke."
"Hilarious joke," Max says dryly, the muscles of his jaw flexing at the thought. "People suck all over, I guess."
"But there are good people all over, too," Eden interjects, nudging Max with her elbow. "Never forget that, BFG."
"Okay, I have to ask. What's BFG?" It’s been bugging me since she opened the door, though it’s slightly less irritating now that I know they’re not dating.
"Big Friendly Giant," Max groans. "She's called me that since I first read it to her when she was a tiny little Smurfette." He elbows her back playfully.
"Yeah, well, you were six feet tall at six years old, so..." She giggles and it's easy to see now that they're extremely close, but in a more familial way than romantic.
It makes my heart ache, and a different type of jealousy swirls in my chest.
Our eyes meet again as a shiver dances down my spine. It's ridiculous how one look from him can affect me. He hasn't even been that nice to me tonight, and yet my panties have been soaked since that first glimpse.
“How about we get you something to eat, Aria? I know a great little place.” His voice is softer now, kinder.
It’s almost as tender as when he speaks to Eden.
I can’t hide my grin. “Sure. I’m starving.”
Four
Max
She's diabetic.
And I'm a prick.
I should have known Aria wasn't careless enough to stop in a neighborhood like this without a good reason. I missed all the signs, all the times she hinted at something more to it below the surface.
And then, the moment it all clicked into place, my heart ran off like a runaway train. I was attracted to her from the start, of course, but her illness was like a sign from above—Fate, Destiny, God, whatever—that I was too quick to judge.
Flashes of my first foster mom appeared behind my eyes, my first foster dad helping her with her nightly insulin injections. That was my favorite home, the one I shared with Eden. We were such a happy little crew, just the four of us. The house was small, but warm and filled with love. I know they would have adopted us and loved us forever, if only our foster mother hadn't passed away from the complications of her diabetes.
It was twenty years ago now, but it still stings. All the events that played out after her death—the bad homes, the abuse, the incident—all of it could have been avoided if only she'd lived. And now, out of the blue pops a tiny little pixie goddess of a girl with the same fucking illness. An illness which caused her to get stuck in this town and walk into my very own auto body shop.
If that's not irony, I don't know what is.
We are sitting at a booth at The Driftwood, burgers and a round of drinks sitting between us—fruity girly shit for them, and a beer for me. Aria insists on paying for everything to say thank you to us both for our help, but I’ll never let that happen. I may not have had a father to teach me, but I still know right from wrong. I’ve already made arrangements with Daisy, the bartender, to put it all on my card.
She's sitting next to Eden, drinking and laughing and talking. With every passing moment, I'm falling harder for this girl, and I'm helpless to stop it. I take each new tidbit of information she offers and tuck it away in my brain, adding it to the pile of reasons why I like her. She’s generous and kindhearted and fighting some epic battles of her own.
I want to know everything about her.
But for now, I just sit back and listen to her gentle voice, while trying not to scare her away with my scrutinizing gaze.
“What do you do f
or a living, Eden?” As Aria’s rosy lips wrap around her black straw, I swallow back a groan. She’s the sexiest fucking girl I’ve ever seen, and my dick has been hard most of the night. I reach down to adjust myself subtly for the fifteenth time since we arrived.
“Oh, I’m a social worker,” she says softly, her face betraying her feelings on the matter. I’m across the table from both women, but if Eden were beside me, I would give her hand a reassuring squeeze right now. “What about you?”
Aria shifts in her seat, and it’s easy to see this is a touchy subject for her, too. “Well, I graduated with a degree in Veterinary Medicine, but I haven’t been able to use it much yet.”
“You will, if that’s what you really want,” I offer. “I’m sure you’d be great at it.” I hide my bashful smile with a long pull off my beer bottle.
She takes a sip of her pink drink too, the bubbles remaining at the bottom tickling her nose and making her laugh.
“Need a refill?” I ask her, my voice gruff from trying to hide my affection.
“I’d love one,” she says. Eden’s watching us with a knowing smirk, biding her time until she can brag about how right she was that there was more to Aria than a pretty face and a fat bank account.
“I’m probably gonna catch some shit for ordering a unicorn cocktail, but I guess I owe you. You did stop me from bleeding out, after all.” I throw her a wink as I slide from the booth and head over to the bar where my buddy Fitz is working.
Fitz spots me immediately, calling me over to the stool in front of him with a lovesick grin. “Who is that gorgeous creature sitting next to Eden?” His knuckle tattoos flash as he cleans the whiskey glass in his hands, the words EAT ME PIG spelled out over his fingers in colorful ink.
“Her name’s Aria. She’s had some bad luck so she’s staying in town with Eden for a few days.” I skip the details and wait for his reaction, which is completely in character.
“Damn. I’d love to be invited to that slumber party,” he groans. He’s been chasing Eden for years, but thanks to the fact that I’m a foot taller than him, he’s been forced to behave.
Chasing Summer Page 2