by Nicole Hart
I assumed he would be on his way, but he repeated the same actions once more. Walking back to the stand, putting the mustard back then picking it back up once again. I didn’t have the foggiest notion what he was doing, but for some reason, it made me smile.
He made me smile.
I watched as he mumbled an apology to the vendor who was busy with another customer. He finally walked away from the pretzel stand as he wrapped his carefully chosen condiments in his large fist and continued on his way. Our eyes locked, just briefly, and I produced a genuine grin without even realizing it. They were usually forced and had a purpose. But the corners of my mouth turned up at him, without reservation, without thinking. He returned the gesture but didn’t slow his feet. Part of me wanted to jump to my own and force him to stand still just so I could stare into those vivid green eyes. They were mesmerizing, the color of fresh basil, or mint. I wouldn’t, obviously. Not only did I not have the audacity to do it, but the stranger would think I was insane.
I continued to observe him as he made his way down the sidewalk, the packets still clenched tightly in his fist. His jeans hugged his backside but hung low on his hips, and a tight white shirt stretched across his broad shoulders. There was no denying he was easy on the eyes—different from my usual type but definitely good looking. His long strides kept my eyes locked on him until he was far out of my range of sight. A hint of disappointment filled me when I couldn’t see him anymore. The odd attraction to a stranger almost made me giggle. But my thoughts were drawn away from my interest in the man when I experienced a sensation I hadn’t felt in far too long.
Hunger.
I stood up and walked over to the pretzel stand and placed my order. The smell of the fresh warm bread hit my nose, and my stomach rumbled. I let out a tiny laugh when I started to feel a twinge of excitement as the vendor handed me my delicacy—hot, fresh, and delicious—the aroma assaulted my senses in the most fantastic way. With cheese. A huge smile spread across my face as I dipped the heavenly bread into the equally intoxicating melted cheddar. The warm scrumptiousness hit my taste buds, and I actually acknowledged my joy with laughter. I couldn’t remember a time food had ever made me happy. But right this second, that’s exactly what I felt. I almost hadn’t recognized the foreign feeling, but now that I had, I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to marinate in it, linger in it as long as possible. Even if it was fleeting, I didn’t care—if a hot pretzel made me happy for a few minutes, I was determined to savor it.
I resumed my spot on the bench and relished my snack, enjoying every second of it honed in on each and every bite. It was delicious, and as I wadded up my napkins and gripped it into my fist, his eyes crossed my mind.
I had never seen eyes that were such a pristine shade before. They reminded me of a picture I saw once of the ocean in Alabama. It was a postcard someone had left in the diner. Orange Beach, Alabama. But the water in the picture was the most beautiful jade, almost pistachio in color. It sparkled in the sunlight and promised something peaceful and refreshing, soothing almost.
I would never see him again. Millions of people filled this city, and the odds of seeing a stranger more than once were slim to none. But that didn’t change the fact that his presence had affected me.
A sigh escaped my lips. Or maybe that was swooning. I’d heard about it but never really knew what girls meant. Until this moment.
The stunning man with the postcard eyes.
Chapter Six
I had been back at my apartment for a few hours and visions of the man on the street still ran through my mind. The way he occupied my thoughts was strange and didn’t make sense. But he really was striking in an exotic way and exuded this aura I’d never encountered, almost serene. The attempt to shake his image from my mind was feeble, regardless that I knew I would never see him again. But in some twisted way, I almost felt the need to thank him. He’d offered me the best day I’d had in ages, as strange as it sounded. I ate the most delicious pretzel of my life. It’s amazing what a difference food makes in your wellbeing. And I was in just an all-around good mood, which didn’t happen often. So I sat curled up on my sofa, watching a fun romantic comedy to keep the momentum going.
The ding of a text message was a figurative punch in the gut that dragged me back to the stench of reality.
Going to have drinks later, you can tag along if you want.
He really knew how to lay on the charm.
“Ugh.” My feelings escaped my lips in an audible grunt as I decided to respond.
I don’t think so, think I’ll stay in tonight.
I didn’t think twice before hitting send and actually surprised myself. I had never turned Brian down, always taking his bait in hopes it would make a difference and change things. But I didn’t feel like hanging on to his line that didn’t even serve a purpose today. Maybe I was finally getting fed up.
Brian: Please baby, I miss you.
Those five words almost made me drop my phone to the floor. In the last two years of knowing Brian, he had never used any kind of sweet, affectionate name with me, not a single term of endearment—ever. The stupid hope I always held onto started to rise again. I tried to convince myself he was full of shit. But the little ray of optimism kept gnawing at me that maybe, just maybe, this was a turning point.
Ok, sure. Where to?
Brian: Cool. Be ready around 8. Wear something sexy.
And just like that, I realized how completely gullible I was. This was a booty call, but he planned to get drunk first. I shook my head in frustration as I stood and headed into Braxton’s room to rummage through her closet. Nothing sexy lived inside my own.
An hour later, I stood in front of my full-length mirror, staring at myself, wishing I could pull off this little black dress the way Braxton did. She filled out every stitch perfectly, where on me, it hung loosely because there were no curves to cling to. I missed my hourglass hips and perky breasts. Maybe one day, they would make a magnificent return. Today, obviously wasn’t that day. But I shook off my disdain and brushed through my long locks trying to make the best of a pathetic situation.
Brian: Here. Meter’s running.
I stared at the screen while I sat on my old wooden dresser and shook my head. In disbelief. Disgust. Disappointment. All the above. I scolded myself for always holding out hope that he would come to my door and take me out on a date. That’s what I got for watching a stupid romantic comedy today. Things like that didn’t happen in real life. Not in mine anyway.
“What’s up?” Brian muttered, his full attention on his cell phone as I slid into the back seat of the cab.
“Hey.” My voice was soft and disappointment oozed from my lips. Regret was already bubbling through my veins. I should have just stayed in tonight.
“Why are you wearing that ugly ass jacket?” His voice dripped with disgust as he finally decided to glance in my direction.
“Because I’m cold,” I shot back and ran my fingers over the faded brown suede. I became self-conscious in an instant, examining myself and watching as every flaw I had jumped out at me. But as disappointed as I was with myself, I was even more disappointed in Brian. There was no need to be such a dick. My desire to pose that question to him, the million-dollar question, lingered on the tip of my tongue.
“I’ll warm you up.” His attitude did a complete one-eighty as he slid closer to me, brushing his fingers under the coat, caressing my shoulder gently. He pressed his lips to my neck as I tilted my head back to give him easier access. Not that I was turned on—I wasn’t. I just wanted a peaceful night, and I wasn’t naïve about the reason for our meeting. He wanted sex. And he knew I would give it to him. Even if I would rather be cuddled up on my couch watching TV—alone. The whiskey on his breath drifted to my nose, causing an involuntary crinkle as he slid my jacket down my arm. He moved his hand to the other shoulder and repeated his motion, until they were both bare, and my skin prickled with a chill.
“That’s better,” he said pulling back an
d staring at my chest.
“It’s freezing, Brian.” I crossed my arms and ran my hands quickly over my bare skin.
“You’ll be fine,” he whispered with an eye roll followed by a wink.
The truth was, he’d rather me be cold than wear something he didn’t approve of.
Asshole.
He turned away from me, resting his back against the cold material of the cab seat. We rode in silence as I kept my coat at my side, gripping the suede between my fingertips, rubbing the cloth back and forth, the worn softness providing false comfort.
The cab driver muttered obscenities as he weaved in and out of traffic, horns blaring and lights flashing all around us. A typical night in the city. I kept my focus on the sounds and sights of our surroundings to avoid the uncomfortable silence in the back seat. The cab came to a screeching halt down in the west village in front of an older building with a large metal door. There were no windows and people were flowing in and out. It was way too crowded for such a small venue.
Whiskey Bent
“We’re here. Don’t embarrass me,” Brian snapped as he shoved a wad of cash toward the driver before swinging the door open and hopping out of the cab.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I spat, followed by a mutter of the one word that described him perfectly. “Asshole.” My insult was met with silence, which meant he clearly hadn’t heard me. I wasn’t sure if I had wanted him to hear it or not. Part of me thought he needed to know what kind of person he was. The other part of me realized he already knew, and my slander would fall on deaf ears. I had allowed him to treat me with utter disrespect for quite a while now. He just hadn’t heard the words come from my mouth.
We walked into the bar, and my cold body welcomed the warmth. Brian placed his hand on the small of my back and shuffled me to a table in the corner. And that’s where I sat for almost an hour as he mingled with his friends, without so much as a second of his time or attention wasted on me. Brian hadn’t even offered to get me a drink, and I was so far in the corner, I wasn’t even in the line of sight of a waitress, if there were any. The longer I sat alone at the table, the more irritated I got. Brian took shot after shot with his friends, and my blood started to boil. Standing to my feet, I maneuvered through the crowd, making my way to the bar where I saw an empty seat at the end. I chanced a quick glance behind me, knowing he would be pissed, but I was fed up with sitting alone in the corner. Not to mention, I was thirsty.
And that’s where I sat, surrounded by people, yet still alone. No one even acknowledged me. Sometimes I felt invisible, but most of the time, I didn’t mind. I’d accepted this life. But every once in a while, it wasn’t just being alone…it was loneliness.
The longer I sat at the bar, the more I realized this wasn’t me, this wasn’t my thing. But then again, most days I didn’t know who I was. I was lost—I knew that much. Just going through the motions and trying to survive.
I couldn’t even say with any level of truth that I used to be happy. Because I’d felt this way for as long as I could remember. It’s pathetic, really.
I glanced at the bartender who didn’t pay me any mind. He was busy pouring beer for a line of customers and staring at the dark-haired woman who stood behind the bar with him. I assessed the man preparing drinks, something vaguely familiar about him gnawing at me. I didn’t think I’d ever met him before, and I couldn’t place the familiarity. But it was easy to see why he was so smitten with the woman close to him. She was stunning. Her long hair hung over her shoulders and cascaded down her back. She had curves I would die for. Literally die for. She was gorgeous. She exuded confidence and sex appeal. And the way the bartender stared at her stabbed me with a twinge of jealousy. She had it all, you could see it.
Her stare met mine, and she gave me a smile. I could see the sympathy in her eyes, and it made me a little uncomfortable. Apparently, I exuded pathetic the way sexiness oozed from her. It was hard to even look at her without feeling less than human.
I decided to go against my better judgment and order a glass of wine. I should have known Brian wouldn’t have been happy about it.
“What the hell did I tell you?” Brian’s voice boomed from behind, scaring me and causing my body to jump.
“Please, don’t start,” I begged, twisting myself on the barstool to face him as he met me halfway. I didn’t want to do this.
And then it happened. The moment he took it too far. As he dug his perfectly manicured fingers into my face, I was convinced my jaw was about to crumble beneath them. He spat his venomous words at me, cutting me like a knife. But I wouldn’t let him see me cry. And fortunately, he didn’t get a chance.
My body began to tremble as I watched the scene play out before my eyes. When those postcard eyes stepped in and came to my defense.
Chapter Seven
It was like a whirlwind, the next few minutes buzzed by. My heart pounded, my throat dry and scratchy. I tried to intervene, but my body refused to move as I watched the man with the Orange Beach, Alabama eyes pound his massive fist into Brian’s face until the bartender pulled him away…with a laugh. Nothing about any part of this was funny. The crowd yelled and cheered, even Brian’s so-called friends seemed to get a kick out of the situation. I hated violence, but a small part of me was grateful he took the initiative to defend me. The look in Brian’s eyes when he grabbed my face truly scared me. He had been prepared to hurt me.
My focus finally made its way to the brunette behind the bar who stared in shock at the outbreak before returning her attention back to me. Her eyes were wide and worrisome.
“I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say. I shouldn’t have come. My presence caused this whole ridiculous scene.
In an instant, her concerned eyes turned warm and soothing as she waved her hand at me.
“It’s fine; you didn’t do anything.” She did her best to reassure me, although I wasn’t convinced.
Postcard eyes sat down on the barstool next to me, and my whole body started to tremble. My stomach did flips, and tiny beads of sweat formed on my neck. My throat grew tight, and for some reason, I felt the urge to giggle. Shit, I was about to have a nervous breakdown right in the middle of this bar.
“You all right?” His voice sent a shiver up my spine. It was like warm honey oozing over my body—deep with a tiny accent I couldn’t place. I turned my stool just enough to look at him, and it was almost too much to bear. I knew when I saw him yesterday he was sexy, but this was more. So much more. Not many men could pull off a bald head, but he did it with ease. The gauges in his ears led to the perfect vein bulging down his neck. I didn’t think it was possible to consider a vein attractive, but once again, he managed. His face had just a tiny bit of scruff that alluded to his dark hair. Not just dark, but this beautiful chestnut brown that reminded me of a warm campfire. Cozy and comfortable. And those eyes, my God, those green eyes were the most remarkable thing I had ever seen. They were brilliant from far away, but up close, they took my breath away. Literally stole the breath from my lungs. I glanced down at his fitted white shirt and noticed the colorful ink of tattoos peeking below his short sleeves. His chest heaved slightly, but he appeared calm as I stared at him. I wanted to speak, and I tried, but staring at him was so much easier than articulating words.
“I’m fine. He’s a jerk… I shouldn’t have come.” The word vomit spilled from my lips.
“I’m glad you’re here. I’m Logan.” A crooked little smile crossed his lips as he held out his hand for me.
Logan. The man with the breathtaking postcard eyes I was convinced I would never see again had a name. Logan.
“Jess…Jessica, but everybody calls me Jess.” I stumbled through my words, hoping I didn’t sound like an idiot, but as I put my hand in his, I couldn’t form a proper sentence. I wasn’t able to think straight at all. When I touched him, a hum of electricity flowed through my body like I’d never felt before. I couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it, too.
“Nice to meet yo
u, Jess,” he replied, so calm and cool, while I felt as if my body would tremble right out of this seat.
“I’m sorry you had to watch that,” he said softly, leaning into me. His head lowered, his eyes not meeting mine.
I read so much into that sentence. He was sorry I had to see it, not sorry he had done it. I hoped that didn’t mean he liked to fight, or that he was a violent person. But he had defended me, which had to be a good sign.
I had a tendency to overthink things and overanalyze everything. Obviously.
“Um…it’s okay.” That was the only response I could give him.
“No, it’s not. I just didn’t want him to hurt you.” His matter-of-fact tone made me take notice of his body language. His posture was stiff, and his fingers tapped the bar top gently, one at a time.
One, two, three, four, five.
Reverse.
One, two, three, four, five.
I realized maybe he was just as nervous as I was, and I took comfort in his movements.
“I’m grateful, actually,” I mumbled, brushing my hand across his forearm, but only briefly. My bold action surprised me. I didn’t have a habit of being affectionate toward anyone, not in the least. I’d almost changed my way of thinking with Brian in the beginning, but he proved being standoffish was the safest way to go. He had brushed me off more than once, and rejection was a tough pill to swallow. So I tried to avoid it with people I came into contact with.