She spins on her heel before disappearing inside her house.
I don’t care that she’s upset with me. The more she pushes me, the more I push back. I am probably acting like an asshole, but it doesn’t matter.
I give a smile of satisfaction at winning and I turn back around to grab the boxes from the back. I carry them into the living room as she requested. I try not to pay too much attention to the inside of the house, but with Sloan’s new décor, it’s hard to ignore. It’s been three months since the last time I was in here, and it feels like a completely different house.
The walls are still painted a pale lavender color, but the mustard curtains are now replaced with thin white fabric, and paintings are hung on the walls of the living room. After sliding the last box against the wall, I cross the room, one of Sloan’s pictures catching my eye.
It’s of her and the man who was with her the day she moved in. It looks like the picture was taken at an outdoor festival. There are crowds of people surrounding them, groups sitting on blankets. Behind them, out of focus, is a large stage. Their arms are wrapped around each other, and he’s kissing Sloan’s cheek while she grins.
I’m still staring at the picture when she emerges from the kitchen with two bottles of beer. She holds one out to me. “For helping me with the desk.”
I stare at the beer in her hand but don’t take it. I run my fingers through my hair, sliding my palm across the side of my face. Here I am being an asshole again, but I can’t take another minute of standing inside Ellie’s house. It feels wrong to be here, especially when I can’t decide which is the better choice to make—wrap my fingers around her waist and possess her mouth with mine or simply walk away.
I take a step back. “I have to go.”
Her eyebrows knit, confused. I don’t know who is worse when it comes to indecision, me or her.
Chapter Nine
I don’t want to think about Dallas in any way other than my boss and neighbor, but it is becoming increasingly difficult the longer I stay living in the house across the street from him.
Indecision lingers under my skin, just beneath the surface of the way I have decided to live my new life.
Dallas is quickly becoming a bad habit I can’t shake. Just when I thought he was starting to change toward me, he pushed his cold shoulder on me once again. Admittedly, I would do the same in return.
When he brought up the fact that the furniture salesman was clearly flirting with me, something inside me triggered, sparking like the flash from a freshly lit match. I don’t want to be in a relationship. Cole’s affair left a bitter taste in my mouth, and love is out of the question, or even anything remotely resembling love.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t still get wet at the sight of Dallas working on his stupid motorcycle or that my throat doesn’t swell when he’s standing within inches of me. Truthfully, I want him to kiss me. I want to know what it feels like to have his strong hands grip the sides of my waist, making me bend to his will. My mind is in a constant battle between if I want him to touch me or never talk to me again.
Human attraction is a bitch.
“I wrote this article for The Chronicle the other day about all these upcoming festivals in Austin. I thought maybe we could check a few of them out this summer.” Vada’s standing beside me behind the bar with her arms crossed over her chest.
We’ve just gone through the lunch rush, and we’re now in the sweet spot between lunch and dinner where there’s hardly anyone sitting at the bar. She’s bored, and I can tell.
I need to stay busy. I’ve been cleaning the counter for the past ten minutes with the same rag, watching Dallas from across the dining room. He’s standing on top of a booth, changing out one of the light bulbs above the table. The muscles on his arms tighten and flex as he stretches them out.
“Sloan? Are you even listening to me?”
“What?” I don’t move my eyes away from Dallas.
He steps down from the booth, and when he turns around, he catches me staring. I don’t care that he does. My cheeks flush pink, but it isn’t from embarrassment. It’s from anger that I’ve allowed myself to feel even the slightest bit of attraction toward him.
My heart thrashes inside my chest, and the all-too-familiar lump swells in my throat.
Dallas moves his eyes to the side, briefly looking at me before he walks over to the next table. His eyes are firm, his mouth set into a thin, stubborn line. I can see the thoughts clearly written in his expression. Something between us shifted yesterday, and he doesn’t know what to make of it. Neither do I.
I shamelessly watch him as he steps onto the next booth, reaching up to change the next bulb. The bottom hem of his t-shirt rises, displaying his firm, sculpted hip bones. He’s angry with me, yet I’m not sure why. I also don’t understand why it bothers me if he is.
“Sloan.” Vada repeats my name, and this time her tone is enough to pull me away from staring at Dallas. “What is going on with you?”
“Nothing,” I tell her, shrugging. I don’t want to deal with her interrogation or her questioning. I quickly walk through the back of the bar, heading toward the kitchen to grab another bag of clean rags. She follows me.
“You’re clearly distracted. I thought you would be excited about my idea since you’re new here.”
“Excited about what?” Colton peeks out from behind the kitchen counter. One of his black-glove-clad hands is wrapped around the handle of a very large butcher knife, the other gripping a brisket. He drags his knife through the other end, loading the slices into one of the many warmers set up in front of him.
She crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. “I don’t think it’s anything you’d be interested in.”
Colton’s eyebrows dip behind his thick-framed glasses. He lifts his hand to his chest, holding it out far enough to not touch his shirt. “Ouch, Vada. You’ve really hurt me with that one.”
She pauses, biting down on her bottom lip as she stares daggers back at Colton. There’s clearly something not settled between them. They always converse as if they hate each other.
“Anyway…” She rolls her eyes back to me. “You’ve been distracted today.”
“I’m not distracted.” I pull the bag of rags free from the closest and lift it up to show Vada. “See?”
Passing Vada, I start heading back toward the front, leaving her and Colton behind. I don’t want to get into this conversation with her. She doesn’t know about my trip to the furniture store with Dallas or how he tested the waters with how close he could get to me. My main reason for not telling her is because I don’t know what to make of it myself, hence the obsession with the need to stay busy. The other small reason is because I am hesitant to share any information with her. To be honest, it isn’t entirely fair to her to leave her completely in the dark. I long for the days when I felt I could trust someone enough to tell them my deepest thoughts and secrets, but I am also afraid. I know Vada is the closest person I have to a best friend. She was the first person to welcome me to Austin with open arms. I can’t discredit her for that, but after Brenna, I can’t help holding my cards close to the vest. I’ve been burned before. I’m hesitant, afraid it could happen again.
I shove through the door leading to the front and drop the bag on top of the cooler. I tear open the top, tug a rag free, and immediately start folding it. Dallas is no longer changing out the light bulbs above the tables. Instead, he’s sitting at the far end of the bar, flipping through a stack of what looks to be invoices. He keeps glancing from the paper in front of him to his phone sitting on the table beside him.
“Something happened that you’re not telling me.” Vada reappears beside me. She reaches inside the bag and pulls a rag free. There’s still only one customer sitting at the bar, and his drink is nearly full. Dallas must have gotten him a refill while Vada and I were in the back.
We fold the first few rags in silence, but the guilt starts to set in for not sharing a single piece of information with her. Th
e pressure from the secrets I’ve been keeping is starting to boil over.
“I found a ton of poems my mother wrote when I was emptying out her desk.” The moment my confession falls from my mouth, I internally sigh with how relieved I feel to finally tell someone. I hadn’t been able to talk to Liam lately since he’s so busy with work back in Minnesota. Between his schedule and mine, we just haven’t had the opportunity to talk like we used to.
“You’re kidding?”
“No. I just pulled the drawer open and there they were. When I say there were a ton, I mean there were a ton.”
Vada drops her hands, stopping mid-fold at my confession. She knew about the lack of relationship my mother and I had before I moved here and how she left me her house with absolutely no warning. So, her reaction to this news doesn’t surprise me. She knows I’ve been both hesitant yet eager to know more about the person my mother was. This is simply one small puzzle piece added.
“That’s pretty awesome. How does that make you feel though?”
“I’m not sure. It’s one thing to live in a house with her furniture. It’s another to see something she wrote at one point in her life, if that makes sense. It’s like watching an actor in a movie and then meeting them in real life. One feels more alive than the other, more real, and I’m not sure I was ready to feel that just yet.”
I shrug, thinking back to the words she scribbled across hundreds of torn pieces of notebook paper. When I went inside to grab my purse before Dallas and I headed to the furniture store, I gathered all the papers together and stuffed them into one of the kitchen drawers to get them out of sight until I’m ready to sift through them again. I don’t want to lose them, knowing they are a piece of my mother’s soul written with ink, a piece of her soul she likely didn’t share with anyone before.
“I get what you mean.” She nods, continuing to fold the rag in her hands.
“Hey.” Colton walks up behind me and Vada, grabbing our attention.
“What’s up?” I ask him, glancing over my shoulder, giving him a warm smile. Over the past week I’ve worked here, I’ve come to grow fond of Colton. He’s always kind to me even though he spends most of his time either in one of his graduate classes or tormenting Vada. I’m not entirely sure which one he seems to get more enjoyment out of.
Colton clears his throat and runs his fingers through the strands of his dark hair. “I talked to Dallas about performing again, and he’s still not budging.”
“I told you I didn’t think he was ready.” Vada’s voice is soft, the same tone that’s usually used when anyone discusses what to do about a way to incorporate live entertainment. “Plus, why do you always seem to bring this up to me when Dallas isn’t in the conversation?”
Colton tentatively shifts his gaze to Dallas before looking away. He dips his head and whispers, “It’s not like I leave him out of the decisions, Vada. It’s just that every time I bring it up to him, he changes the subject. He’s basically left it up to me to figure out, and I really think we need to give this a try. Basically every other bar within a three-block radius is doing it. We’re the only ones who aren’t.”
Vada sighs. “You’ve got a point.”
“Wait a minute,” Colton says, a sly grin slivering across his mouth. “Did you just admit I’m right?”
“I never said that.” Vada shakes her head.
Colton crosses his arms in satisfaction before circling back to our conversation. “I would hire someone, but I don’t think we have it in the budget right now since it was always supposed to be Dallas.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I don’t know anyone who would be able to perform. You guys are the only ones I talk to.” I laugh it off. I’m happy with the small circle I’ve built in the time I’ve been in my new hometown.
“Wait.” Vada perks up, pointing at me. “Didn’t you say you can sing?”
“Oh yeah.” Colton perks up too. “You did.”
I trade glances between the two of them, stunned by their suggestion. Blood drains from my cheeks at the thought of singing to anyone but myself. “Well,” I scoff. “I did, but I’ve never sung to anyone before, much less on stage.”
“You should try it,” Vada says, wrapping her slim fingers around my wrist. Her brown curls bounce with her excitement. “Come on, isn’t this what you moved down here for? A chance to build a new life, to experience something new?”
“I don’t know.” I shake my head, shifting my gaze to Dallas. He still hasn’t spoken to me all day, letting his silence settle in between us, delivering his message loud and clear. He wants us to keep our distance, and so do I.
“We could try it on a trial basis,” Colton rushes to offer. His round eyes are hopeful, and suddenly I can tell he’s looking at me as if I’ve suddenly rescued him. “You can sing one night, see how you feel. If you hate it, that’s okay. I’ll crack and hire someone.”
I consider the idea for a few seconds. I chew on the inside of my cheek then shift my eyes to the empty stage, imagining what it would look like with me standing in the middle of it. I imagine the dining room packed with customers, their eyes trained solely on me while I hold the microphone in one hand, nerves rattling through me.
“What music would I be singing to?” I ask Colton. I sure as hell don’t know how to play any instrument. The only songs I’ve ever sung to were when Liam and I would take short road trips in college between Minneapolis and our family cabin in northern Minnesota. Liam was the only person who has heard me sing, and he begged me for years to enter one of the many ridiculous singing competition shows on TV, but I never wanted to make a career out of it. I wanted to teach, and that’s what I went to school for.
Colton stops to think, rubbing his fingers on his chin. He quickly snaps his fingers with a smile. “I have someone in my economics class who told me he plays the guitar. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind helping at least for the one night. I’ll see if he can come in the day before so you guys can work out a couple songs. Maybe I can find some cover songs for you to play if that makes it easier.”
“Are you okay with this?” Vada asks.
I want to tell her and Colton no. I want to tell them I didn’t agree to add singing to my list of duties when I started working here as a bartender. Regardless, here I am, looking at a desperate Colton and an overly intrigued Vada. She looks way too thrilled at the prospect of hearing me sing.
“Okay.” I give Colton a small smile and continue folding the rags. When I look over to where Dallas was working on paperwork, he’s no longer there.
“What’s going on?” I hear his voice coming from behind me. Convenient how he shows up at the precise moment I check to see where he is.
When I turn around, he’s standing two feet behind me, leaning with his hand against the edge of the bar. I breathe in, trying to calm my thoughts. He smells like a mix of cedar and the grease from his motorcycle. He must have been working on it again this morning. I don’t know why I’m more nervous around him today. Maybe it’s because I’m nervous about what he might think about me being the one to perform instead of him. Or, it could be that up until this very moment, he hasn’t spoken a word to me all day. Either of those could be a real possibility.
“Nothing,” Colton interjects, saving me from answering Dallas. He locks his eyes on me before finally moving on to Vada then Dallas. “We were just talking.”
“Hey,” she says to Dallas. “What do you think about checking out some festivals this summer?” She grins, raising her eyebrows.
“Like music festivals or…?” Dallas’ question trails off.
“Yeah, some of them.” Her expression falls. Her once hopeful demeanor is now replaced with anticipated disappointment.
His eyes shift back to me as his jaw ticks. My heart pounds in my chest so loud I think he might be able to hear it. Shit, the entire bar probably can. I don’t know what’s going on with Dallas. One minute he looks at me like he hates me, and the next it looks like he wants to throw me up against the wall and
slam his mouth against mine. My imagination flies away with me, thinking of all the things Dallas could do with those strong fingers that are gripping the edge of the wooden bar.
Again, his stare pours into me like water breaking through a dam. It rushes in, hitting me at all once.
Then it clears and calms the second he switches back to Vada.
“Count me in.”
“Really?” she asks, stunned. In fact, we all are. Colton’s eyebrows dart up his forehead, above his glasses. I drop my shoulder and quirk one eyebrow.
“Yep.”
“Cool.” A ghost of a grin appears on Vada’s mouth.
Colton chimes in. “Nice. Maybe we can all four go one time. It’ll be awesome. Oh, and good news.” He taps Dallas on the arm. “I figured out what I’m going to do about the nights we want live entertainment.”
I immediately glare at Colton, wishing he hadn’t brought it up. I’m still not entirely sure it’s a good idea or if I even want to do it, but alas, here I am.
I’m surprised when Dallas’ lack of reaction to Colton’s news ends up having me feeling relieved.
“Great.” Dallas places his hand on Colton’s back in appreciation before leaving the three of us standing behind the bar completely confused.
Good. At least I’m not the only one.
Chapter Ten
My motorcycle is finally back in working order. It took me nearly a month to get the one part in and nearly two weeks for me to be able to fit the time in to replace the broken part enough to get it back up and running. I don’t allow anyone else to touch my bike, so taking it to a shop was never a thought. The one part of my father I always appreciated was how he taught me the important things in life. My mother was more nurturing. She was a hopeless romantic to a fault, always allowing her emotions to get in the way of seeing the more rational reality of the life surrounding her. My father on the other hand was the practical, logistical kind. He wasn’t big on emotion or sharing his feelings. If he was, they were always hidden behind a stern, cold face and long beard. In a way, I think I’m more like him now than I was before, when I was with Hailey.
The Rules of Heartbreak: An Enemies-to-Lovers/Next-Door Neighbor Romance (The Heartbreak Series Book 1) Page 9