Her Maine Reaction
Page 5
That’s how he made me feel last time. Unhinged. I was out of control, and he was in charge. He gave me the freedom to relinquish the power I desperately try and hold on to at all times.
I could give in right now. I could feel that freedom again so easily.
Ryan can give me that one thing I didn’t know I needed.
“You feel it right now,” he whispers, and my eyes lift to his, seeing the need in them.
In slow motion, he moves his head lower, closing the distance. His eyes morph, and my vision blurs. I need this kiss.
But the second I feel the warmth of his lips a millimeter from mine, I pull back.
I know he’s just playing some sick game with me, and he wants to see if he can unravel me. I know he didn’t spend seven months thinking about me night and day, reliving every touch, kiss, and electric current that flowed between us. I’m sure he’s had sex countless times since then, and I’m just a blip on the radar of his conquests.
I’m the one who can’t get past a one-night stand.
I’m such a fucking cliché for all women everywhere.
Closing my eyes, I turn my head away and take a deep breath. I refuse to let him play me. Sure, we’d have a wild time that I know would blow my mind, but I also know that I’d want more. I can’t be hung up on him for another seven months when I go back home. I’ve already been miserable wanting something I can’t have.
“You need to go,” I tell him, my voice soft.
This time Ryan doesn’t say anything, he just straightens and walks out of the kitchen.
A minute later, I hear the front door close, and I take a shaky breath in.
I wanted him to go, but I didn’t want him to leave.
Sighing, I cover my face with my hands and rub my temples.
The man I’ve been dreaming of was right in front of me, and I turned away from him.
Groaning, I push my hair away from my face and look around the small kitchen. His tall frame took up so much room, it felt like he dominated the space. But now that it’s just me, it feels small and empty–a little like my heart.
Okay, snap out of it, Ashley. Even I’m depressing myself.
Steeling my spine, I finish my mug of cold coffee and bring mine and Ryan’s to the sink. Leaning on the edge, I remind myself that I’m a strong, independent woman who can get through anything, and can handle whatever’s thrown at me.
I can handle Ryan. I have to.
I came here to get away from the shit storm that is my life, and yet instead, I’ve crash landed in the path of the only man who has the power to ruin me.
Closing my eyes, I take a couple of deep breaths.
An hour ago, I was woken up from a drunken stupor, only to be brought back to Dottie’s cottage and made to give a police statement because two assholes decided that they knew what I needed–them. What the hell? Can I not just get away from the stupidity and general dumbass-ness of men for a few days?
Blowing out a lungful of air, I straighten. Walking through the house, I shut off all the lights and make sure the front door is securely locked before climbing into bed.
With thoughts of what it would have been like to actually kiss Ryan again on my mind, I drift off into a deep sleep.
Chapter 5
I wake to the dull, grey light of the morning, and curl a little tighter into the comforter, wishing for just a few more minutes of sleep.
I can already feel a massive headache coming on because of last night. I should just go home now and start looking for a job. Staying here longer will only guarantee more headaches and run-ins with a man that can’t be mine. Well, he could be for a few days, but then what? I’d leave in an even worse condition than I came here in.
Stretching out, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and my feet meet the cold wooden floors, sending chills through me. I look around for my fuzzy slippers and slide my feet inside, the fur hugging my already frozen toes like a warm blanket.
Shuffling down the hall, I start a fresh pot of coffee, and make it a little stronger than usual. I’m going to need the caffeine if I plan on functioning like a human today.
Yawning, I lean on the counter and look out the little window above the sink. It definitely looks like a snow storm is coming. The sky is grey today. A vast change from yesterday’s blue. We hadn’t had any snow in Jersey yet, so I’m actually really excited.
I’ve always loved sitting by the window and watching it fall. Anything that was once imperfect is covered by a fresh white slate, and then it’s suddenly beautiful again.
If only that could be true for life. I don’t regret anything I’ve done–my dad taught me that. But it would be nice to just cover my past up with a blanket of white, and call it beautiful.
But I can’t.
The ugly is what drives me forward to seek more, and want better. I refuse to settle in any part of my life. I know what I deserve, and I will never feel bad about that. It doesn’t make me selfish, or picky, or full of myself. It just means I hold myself to a higher standard that won’t be lowered. And there’s absolutely no shame in that.
Sighing, I pour myself a mug of coffee and add a little cream and sugar before shuffling out to the living room.
I haven’t had a day to do absolutely nothing in I don’t know how long. Turning on the TV, I search around until I find a crime show that I haven’t watched in forever. Murder and coffee on a Sunday morning sounds perfect to me.
And that’s how I spend the rest of my day–curled up on the couch under a blanket, binge watching CSI: Miami. I love that damn Horatio Caine.
It would be nice to have a man that reliable in my life again. His team members come to him with any problem, and they know Horacio will do everything he can to help them.
Besides my dad, I’ve never had that.
He was my rock in life. He was there for me, always. And since he’s been gone, I’ve had to figure out how to be that person for myself.
There were times when I wished I had someone to share my burdens with, and help me carry the weight of the world when it got too heavy on my shoulders. But it was in those moments that I became stronger, and more resilient.
Despite that, though, I’m at a place in my life where I don’t want to carry every burden on my own anymore. I’m tired of searching for something I’m not sure even exists, and yet I continue to believe it does.
As the sun sets, and the sky grows darker, I realize that most of the day has passed me by, and I’m starving.
Grabbing my phone, I text Ally and ask her if she wants to grab dinner. I told her not to think that she has to be available for me every day just because I’m here, but I’m not really looking forward to going out to eat by myself.
Standing, I stretch my stiff limbs, and head down the hall to the bathroom. A hot shower revives me, and snaps me out of the contemplative state I was in. I just need to push forward until everything works out how it’s supposed to.
I put on black skinny jeans, a black tank top, and a long beige cardigan sweater. Adding a long necklace and my leather booties, I put on a little makeup and dry my hair so it’s wild and curly.
Checking my phone, I see Ally still hasn’t answered me, but I can’t wait any longer, I need food. Grabbing my purse, I put on my coat and scarf before stepping out onto the porch and locking the door.
Damn, I think it’s gotten even colder.
Pulling my coat together, I run to my car and blast the heat as soon as I get in.
People in Maine must have to wear bras at all times or else their nips would be hard as rocks and protruding through every layer of clothing. I’ve been known to let the girls go free when I’m just running errands and have on a sweatshirt or something. But I definitely couldn’t do that shit here. Nope. It would be VPs–visible nipples–even through the thick material of a sweatshirt.
After letting my car warm up for a few minutes, I start the trek through the darkness into town.
I guess I’ll go back to The Rusty Anchor. I sure a
s hell am not sitting at a full-blown restaurant by myself. I can blend into a bar way easier.
I’m just going to have to sit somewhere I won’t be bothered by any assholes thinking that I’m some whore up for grabs. I still don’t get that. Do I give off some slutty vibes or something? All I do is act normal. It’s not my fault if men read into what’s not there.
Pulling up to the bar, I wrap my scarf another time around my neck, and shove my hands into my coat pockets as I walk quickly inside.
Trying not to look around, I head straight to the bar, and sit at the far end against the wall. Unwrapping myself, I lay my coat and scarf on the stool next to me so no one gets the idea that it’s available, and push my curls away from my face. I give Alex a small smile when he sees me.
“You’re back already? Last night didn’t scare you off?” he asks.
“Nope. And I’m just here for food. I’ll be good, I promise.”
“We’ll see.” He smiles, handing me a menu.
“I don’t need it. I’ll have a cheeseburger, medium well, with fries and barbecue sauce, please. And a Bud, thanks.”
“No problem, gorgeous.”
Shaking my head, I lean against the wall and scan the room, curious to see if those guys are here again. Luckily, I don’t see anyone familiar.
I honestly don’t know when the last time I went out to eat on my own was, let alone braved a bar alone. Pulling out my phone, I busy myself scrolling through social media, not really caring what the people I knew fifteen years ago are doing, but at the same time, do. Seeing how happy and in love most of them are, and how they have these big important jobs in the city, makes me feel a little inadequate, and if I’m being honest, like a loser.
Sighing, I throw my phone back in my purse and look around again. A young couple sits at a table nearby, their heads together, smiling at each other with hearts in their eyes. Oh, young love. How naïve and pure. You think everything is perfect, and that it’ll stay that way, but then you learn the truth a short while later. The real world will test you, and throw you curve balls that will either make or break you as a couple.
Most don’t make it.
The times I thought I was madly in love all fizzled out the moment the first storm came.
But those two look really into each other, so I hope they make it. We need more love in this world.
“Here you go,” Alex says, placing my food and beer in front of me.
Oh my God, it looks and smells amazing. “Thank you.”
“Sure. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“I will.”
Dipping a fry into the barbecue sauce, I pop it in my mouth, and hold back a moan. It’s so good. Crispy and hot. Perfect.
The bar starts to fill up as I devour my burger, and I’m not ashamed to be shoving food in my mouth like I haven’t seen any in days.
“Need another beer to wash that down with?” Alex laughs, leaning his arms on the bar–his muscles flexing.
“Shut up. I was hungry. And yes, I would like another one.”
Sliding a full glass in front of me, he asks, “Anything else? I’m slammed, so you’ll have to get me while you can.” He winks. “My other bartender just called saying she can’t come in, even though she was supposed to be here an hour ago.” Sighing, he wipes the few drops of beer that spilled over onto the wood.
I don’t know what comes over me, but I find myself asking him, “Do you need help?”
“Are you asking to work?”
“If you need help.” I shrug. “I bartended back home, and I honestly have nothing to do now that I ate. Ally never texted me back.”
Laughing, he motions for me to come on back. “Alright, I’ll give you a chance. But if you become trouble or can’t handle it…”
“Then I’ll go. But trust me, I can keep up.”
Hopping down from the stool, I grab my stuff and walk around through a side door that leads to a small room next to the bar. Hanging my coat and scarf on a hook, I hide my purse in the cabinet below, and take my sweater off, leaving me in just my black tank top and jeans. I make sure my hair is covering my neck so my bruises aren’t showing, and I step out behind the bar.
Alex looks over at me and smiles. “I thought you said you’d be good tonight.”
“What?” I ask, looking down at my outfit. “I’m not bartending in a freaking sweater.”
“Okay, but you better not start any more fights.”
“Come on, that wasn’t my fault. Those guys were assholes.”
“Alright, just get your ass to work.” He jokes, walking over to a pretty woman to take her order. Rolling my eyes, I go in the opposite direction, and head straight for the two girls laughing and flipping their hair–obviously trying to get the attention of the guys a few seats down.
“Hi.” I smile. “What can I get for you?”
“Two vodka sodas,” the blonde one answers.
Nodding, I fill two glasses with ice and pull out a lower shelf vodka from the holder, pouring perfect portions. Filling the rest of the glass with seltzer, I garnish with lime wedges, and slide them forward.
“Do you have a tab open? Or do you want to start one?”
“Start one,” she says, handing me a card.
“Okay.” Walking over to the register, it takes me a second to figure out the system, but when I do, I’m golden.
Moving around the bar for the next hour is easy. I never minded bartending, I actually really liked it. I love the hustle and bustle, and mixing the drinks perfectly so that people can’t tell how drunk they’re getting. It’s an art.
“You’re doing good,” Alex says as he brushes past me.
“I know,” I reply, throwing him a smile over my shoulder.
Pushing my hair back, I smile at the guy in front of me. “What can I get for you?”
“A beer. And your number.”
“Sorry, that’s not on the menu tonight. But I can get you a beer. What kind?”
“Heineken.”
“Coming right up.” I nod, bending down to the fridge below to pull out a bottle. Popping the cap, I slide it towards him. “There you go. Do you have a tab?”
“Don’t need one,” he says, standing and placing a ten on the bar. “Keep the change.”
“Thanks.”
Another guy takes his spot, and I look up, seeing someone who looks a lot like Ryan, but not, at the same time. He’s wearing a Pine Cove Fire Department sweatshirt and his blue eyes study me for a second before recognition hits. “You’re Ally’s friend, right?”
“Uh, yes?”
“I’m Tyler, Jake’s brother.” He smiles, holding his hand out for me to shake.
“Oh, right. I thought you looked familiar. What can I get for you?”
“Just a Bud. I’m waiting for my brother.”
“Jake?”
“No, Ry. He’s supposed to meet me after his shift, but he usually stays later. That guy seriously needs to get a life.”
Oh no. No, no, no.
Ryan is coming here? Now?
I force a smile. “Yeah, I’m sure he does.” My voice comes out weird to my ears, but Tyler doesn’t seem to notice.
Grabbing a glass from the cooler, I pour his beer and place it on a coaster in front of him. “Do you want a menu before the kitchen closes?” Why am I asking that? I don’t want them sitting and eating in front of me where I’ll be forced to look at them, and Ryan will just stare at me.
“Yeah, thanks.”
Shit.
Handing him two menus, I smooth my suddenly sweaty palms on the sides of my jeans, and move down to the next customer. I need to focus.
After fifteen minutes, I start to relax again, smiling and laughing with the people of Pine Cove who come up for drink after drink. The people here are so nice. The cold weather definitely brings them flocking here as something to do.
As I’m smiling at a man who’s a little older, but still handsome, I feel a tingling sensation run down my spine.
He
’s here.
I’d know the feeling of his eyes on me no matter where I was.
Turning slowly, I meet Ryan’s hard gaze, and my blood starts to rush a little faster in my veins. His clenched fists rest on the bar as his eyes take me in from head to toe.
He looks good. His t-shirt hugs his biceps, showing off his well-defined arms that look like God sculpted himself. I remember how strong they are, and I’d love to feel them wrapped around me again.
Tearing my eyes away, I take in a shaky breath, and walk over to him.
“What can I get for you?” My voice is barely above a whisper, but I know he can hear me.
“What are you doing?” His harsh tone snaps me out of whatever haze seems to cloud my brain when he’s around.
I blink. “What do you mean?”
“Why are you back there?” His hard eyes dart to Alex, and then back to mine.
“Why do you care?” I snap back, not liking his questions.
“I don’t,” he says through clenched teeth.
Glancing down, I raise my eyes again and look at Tyler, who’s smiling. “So, Ashley. Do you know my brother?”
“Not really.”
“Huh. It seems like you do.”
“Do you know what you want to eat?” I ask him, trying to get him to drop it.
“Yeah. I’ll have a dozen wings and another beer. Ry?” He turns and smiles at his brother, who’s still looking at me like I’m offending him by being here.
“Same,” he says, his voice deep and rough.
I remember how that gruff voice felt against my neck as he pushed into me over and over. Biting back a moan, I pour him a beer, and slam it down a little too hard in front of him, not looking him in the eye.
Hot and bothered, I spin around and march over to the computer to put their food order in.
This man will be the fucking death of me.
I try and ignore him, but I feel his gaze on me the entire time I’m moving around the bar. And like a moth to a flame, my eyes search his out on their own, and every time, I feel like prey being captured by the beast.
He’s too much.