TEN
Something vibrated on the hard surface beside me.
I groaned, my eyelids heavy. Through thin slit eyes, I took a peek at the alarm clock. 7:15. Way too early for any type of meaningful conversation. I shut my eyes, flopping onto my stomach, but my phone vibrated again.
“Seriously?” I muttered, snatching up my cellphone from the nightstand. The name Wild Child appeared on the screen, and I shook my head, answering groggily. “Mariah you better have a damn good reason for calling me this early.”
“Oh, I do!” Her tone was chipper and confident. “Guess what I’m doing?”
I sat up, raking my fingers through my hair and asking “What?” with a sigh.
“I’m riding with Tiny to Bristle Wave.”
My eyes popped open, all tiredness subsiding. “Bristle Wave?” I asked. “What? Why?”
“Well, shit, Chloe, all you ever did was brag about it. I looked into it some more and liked what I saw. Even got my dad to rent us a boat.” She was so full of herself, like she’d had everything going according to plan. Only, she didn’t. I was there to watch over my dad. The fun had to wait.
“Mariah, I told you I can’t leave from home much this summer.”
“Oh, come on. It’s just one night! We have nothing else better to do right now so why not have a few drinks on the boat. I heard there was a club there that everyone loves. Good drinks, good music. Know the name?”
“Brix,” I sighed. I knew all about Brix. It was the club all the college students hung out at when school was over and they were back at home. It was a way to get through the night in BW, drown in cheap drinks, and dance the night away. Izzy and I went once, and I hated it. There were a lot of older guys that reminded me of wolves hunting innocent sheep, half-dressed waitresses, and boys that refused to leave you alone until you gave them a dance. “You sure you wanna go there? There are way better clubs in L.A.”
“I thought about that, but you should be as close to home as possible, C. Come on I’m not that self-absorbent.”
“Yeah,” I laughed at that statement. Mariah was one of the most inconsiderate people I knew. She only cared about herself, never thought about how someone else would feel if she took the wrong action.
“Anyway, we have a hotel so you don’t have to worry about us popping up, but I would love it if you came out with me tonight. It’ll be fun, I swear. And the first two rounds of drinks are on me.”
I blew out a breath, my bangs flapping with the puff of air. “I will let you know. It really depends on how my dad acts today…” And if Theo decides he wants to hang out.
“Ugh.” She smacked her teeth. “Fine. Just let me know. Talk later!” She hung up, and I dropped my phone, staring at the sky-blue wall across from me. I sat there for a moment, realizing I had no plans for the day. I had planned to spend it out on the deck in front of the pool, catching up on a steamy novel by Maya Banks.
“Mr. Knight you have to get in the shower!” Margie’s voice cut through the silence.
“No!”
“Please, Mr. Knight!” she hollered. “It’s been three days.”
I frowned towards the doorway and hopped out of bed, rushing to his bedroom. He was standing in the bathroom, Margie blocking the doorway so he couldn’t escape. He tried pushing past her, but she was a strong little woman, holding her ground.
“What’s going on?” I asked her.
“I heard him through the monitor and came to check on him. He’s kinda smelly so I told him he needed a shower. At first he agreed, but now he’s putting up a fight. It’s been three days, Chloe. You would think the man would want to shower.”
“Three days, Dad? Seriously?” I stepped behind Margie, looking over her shoulder at him. He was now sitting on the edge of the tub, the shower running in the far corner. “You’re wasting water.” I maneuvered under Margie’s arm, going towards him. When I was directly in front of him, I lowered to a squat.
“You’re still here little girl? Stop calling me your dad. I’m not your dad.”
“Yes you are.” I remained patient. His words didn’t hurt as much. I knew he didn’t mean them. “I’m your daughter, Chloe. I am twenty-two years old. I am your only child, and you smell absolutely horrible right now.”
He fought a smile, folding his arms and looking away. The amusement was faint on his face. He wanted to laugh. I could see it in his eyes. Dad was still in there somewhere. “I do not,” he mumbled.
“Yes, very badly. I think it’s best if you listen to Margie and jump in the shower. Wash your man parts. We won’t look. We promise.”
His head turned, eyes meeting mine. I put a genuine smile on, but he only stared at me. “Fine,” he grumbled, uncrossing his arms. “But you two have to get the hell out. I need privacy.”
“Do you know which is the soap and which is the shampoo?” Margie asked, removing her guard.
“Yes. I can read!” he snipped.
I stood, going towards Margie and bobbing my head, gesturing for her to give him some space. “I’ll stay in the room,” I told her. I shut the bathroom door behind me, and she sighed. She still had on a lavender nightgown, half of her hair still in rollers. She looked exhausted. “You should go catch a few more hours of sleep. I think I can take over for a while.”
“Oh my goodness,” she sighed. “Are you sure? This is my job—it’s what I get paid for—”
“I know,” I said, interrupting her. “But everyone deserves a little break here and there.” I shrugged. “I can handle it.”
She capped my shoulders with her hands, her gratefulness on full display. “You are a lifesaver.” Releasing my shoulders, she turned for the door and said, “Let me know when you need me. I swear I’ll only sleep for one hour.”
I waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it, Margie. It’s all good.”
She gave me one more thankful smile and then walked out of the bedroom. I heard her door shut behind her and when it did, I looked at the TV. He was watching the news today. Walking towards the bathroom door, I knocked softly. “Dad, you okay?”
“Fine.”
“Let me know when you need me.”
“I won’t.”
I laughed, twisting on my heels and then climbing on top of his bed. Crossing my legs Indian-style, I grabbed his remote and flipped through the channels. I ended up on the cooking channel and immediately thought of Theo. Just the mere thought of him made my belly thrash with tiny butterflies. There was a swarm of them, fluttering around, proving just how much I, indeed, cared for him.
Just let it be. Just let it be? I was still unsure. I mean, it would have been wrong to never tell my best friend, but then again, some things just... happened.
The right thing to do would have been to inform her, but I loved her too much to create such drama in her life. I cared for her, and she was still a little unstable about her mother passing away. Knowing that her father had slept with me only six weeks after her death would cause all hell to break loose.
But I liked Theo… a lot.
And I also loved Izzy. She was like a sister to me. I could talk to her about any and everything—everything but this anyway. Maybe it was best to make the sacrifice, forget about Theo and avoid him so I could keep my friendship with her on the right track.
I sighed, and seconds later, Dad walked out of the bathroom with a blue, cotton robe on. He glanced my way uncomfortably, walking to his closet. “How’d it go in there?” I asked, fighting a laugh.
He grumbled something beneath his breath, cracking the closet door behind him. Almost ten minutes later, he walked back out. I expected comfortable clothes, but instead he had on a pair of khaki shorts with an argyle shirt that matched his socks. His leather shoes were tied tight, and in his hand was a navy-blue flat cap.
“Dad…” I climbed off the bed, brows furrowed. “What’s happening here?” I pointed between us, doing a small, sarcastic spin action with my finger.
“I want to go golfing today.” He walked towards the window and looked out, observing the neighborhood. “It’s a nice day.”
“How are you feeling?”
He shrugged. “Not too forgetful. Still have my good swing.”
“Did you take your meds?”
“Yeah,” he huffed. “Nurse practically shoved them down my throat.”
“Oh.” I placed a hand on my hip. “Well, okay. But I’m going to drive you. Margie told me the doctor said you couldn’t get behind the wheel.”
“Man,” he frowned, head shaking, “that woman tells you everything, huh?”
“That’s a good thing. The keys are hidden, so don’t go trying to look for them.”
“Women,” he mumbled as I trotted out of the door.
I laughed, walking down the hallway and entering my bedroom. I took a five-minute shower and then got dressed in a pair of shorts and a blue polo and gathered all my hair into a low ponytail. Placing the black baseball cap over my head, I snatched up my keys, my cellphone, and my wallet, and then walked back to Dad’s room. I was surprised he was still in there. I guess he really was feeling himself today. Good.
“Ready?”
He looked up, standing. “Was ready almost thirty minutes ago, baby girl.”
Yep. This was Dad. The one that called me “baby girl”. The one that actually knew who I was. I smiled as I followed him down the staircase, and after we ate a light breakfast—yogurt, walnuts, and bananas—we were in the car, on our way to the golf club.
While Dad golfed and I was practically his caddy, slugging heavy clubs around the green fields, I’d received a few text messages from Izzy.
Izzy: I’m bored.
Izzy: Chloe?
Izzy: Is papa Knight ok?
Izzy: CHLOEEEE!!!!
I sighed before responding. Such an impatient being she was.
Me: Papa Knight is fine. At Bayroots with him now.
Izzy: The golf club?
Me: Yep.
Izzy: I feel so bad for you right now.
Tell me about it.
I looked up, watching as Dad steadied the club in his hand, the golf ball ready to be struck. He drew back twice, steadied his hand again, and then jerked back once more before completing his swing. The metal club hit the ball with a loud thwack, and we both watched it soar, landing on a patch of grass only a few yards away from the planted flag.
Someone let out a deep whistle from a few feet away, and when I turned to look, I was unfortunate to see Riley, my ex from high school, and his obnoxious dad. Oh, God.
“You have one hell of an arm on you!” Mr. Hunt yelled to my dad, walking in his direction. Of course, that left Riley to come my way as Mr. Hunt continued talking, leaving me stuck in an awkward situation. I couldn’t leave because Dad needed me, but on the other hand, if I had left, it would have spared me from Riley’s ignorance.
“Well, damn,” Riley said, eyes running up and down my legs. “You still have those softball player legs on you.” I thinned my eyes, picking up the bag of clubs and following after Dad and Mr. Hunt. Riley caught up to me, a smirk on his lips. “It’s been so long, huh, Chloe? You go to USC, right?”
“Yep.”
“Shit, you know we trashed them during the championships. Fucking murdered their asses.”
“Good for you,” I sarcastically noted.
“So what’s up?” he asked, running his fingers through his thick bed of curly reddish-brown hair. He’d grown it out, and he had developed more acne too. Weird. I always thought acne was supposed to disappear the older you got, not worsen.
“What do you mean?”
“What are you in town for? USC’s only like a few minutes away right.”
“An hour and a half actually.” I tried not to roll my eyes. “And I came for my dad.”
“Yeah, figured it was something. I remember you saying you would never come back once you left.”
“Yeah, well…” I shrugged, dropping the bag as Dad came to a halt. “Shit happens. Sometimes you need to surround yourself around family.”
He scoffed. “Bullshit. Only reason I’m here is ‘cause my uncle Joe died. Funeral was yesterday.”
“Oh.” I pressed my lips, turning the screen of my phone back one.
Me: OMG. You won’t believe who just showed up.
Izzy: Who?!?
Me: Riley Hunt.
Izzy: Ew. Wtf? I thought you were going to say someone hot.
Me: He won’t stop staring at my legs.
I looked up, and his eyes were focused on my thighs, yet again. Normally, it was the butt or the boobs, but since I had neither on full display, it was the legs. Ugh, he was so fucking weird.
“You know I’m in town until tomorrow afternoon. We should hang out tonight or something.”
“What makes you think I want to do that?”
“I don’t know. You’re obviously bored as fuck if you’re hanging around Bayroots and watching your dad play golf.” He laughed hard, proud of his inside joke.
This time, I didn’t prevent my eye roll. He was a complete jackass. I turned my back to him and looked towards my dad again. He was still watching Mr. Hunt talk. He seemed a little confused.
“Know what I mean?” Riley asked, moving forward and licking his lips. “Have fun together… alone. Just like old times.”
Ew. I cringed and moved away, feeling bile building up in the back of my throat. Dad turned to look at me, and I took advantage of the opportunity, walking ahead with the clubs and getting far away from my really unappealing ex-boyfriend.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, yeah. Just need a different club.”
“Oh.” I pulled the bag around, and Mr. Hunt told us to hold on one second, rushing towards Riley again and demanding his cellphone from the bag. Yeah, now I see where Riley got his everybody owes me attitude.
Dad scratched his head after accepting the club. “I feel like I’ve seen that man before, but I have no clue who the hell he is.”
I laughed. “That’s Mr. Hunt. His first name is Jake. You volunteered to go on a field trip with him one time—a long time ago.”
“Oh. The boy knows you?” he inquired.
“We… used to date.”
Dad’s face was full of disgust, nose scrunched, forehead creased. “Him!?”
I glanced back. “I know…” I turned forward again, looking down at the grass. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Dad chuckled. “Don’t sweat it.” Then he tipped my chin back up. “We all fall for pimply, odd-statured people with arrogant attitudes.”
I giggled. “You’re crazy. Go swing!”
He put on a smile, walking forward and getting into position. When he tipped the ball into the hole with the flat edge, he went to take it out, and I jotted his score down.
“I’m guessing he isn’t your type then, huh?” Dad looked at me as we started towards the golf cart. I peered up at him, my hat shielding my face from the sun. There was gentleness in his eyes, his curiosity burning. I guess I didn’t expect him to know anything about this—my relationship life, that is. I never talked about boys with my father. Like, ever.
“He’s… way too simple-minded for me.” I glanced back, watching the Hunts struggle with which club to start with.
“Yeah, that I can see. You’re a smart girl. You need someone on your level—or even a little higher.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“So what is it that peaks your interest?”
“Ya know…” I hesitated, unsure as I started the cart and drove to the next course. “I don’t really have a type, but for some reason I always end up with a football player at my side. I don’t get it.”
“Hot bods,” he mused, grinning.
I choked on a laugh, twisting my lips and putting the cart in park. “It feels weird talking to you about this.”
“You might as well get it out now. I’m sure I won’t be able to remember it by tomorrow… maybe even tonight.”
I swallowed thickly, but Dad acted as if his comment wasn’t meant to be damaging. For some reason, that comment brought me right back to reality. The fact that he had Alzheimer’s. The fact that he most likely wouldn’t remember my first name by the following morning, maybe even the same evening.
Hopping out of the cart, Dad pulled out one of the tees and stuck it in the grass. I stepped out and dropped the bag, watching as he stood there for a while with the golf ball in hand and a confused expression now on his face.
I realized what was happening before he could ask, “Where’d I get this ball from?”
Picking up the bag of clubs, I walked towards him and took the ball away, pulling out the tee from the grass. “We’ve been out her for about two hours now, Dad. I think we should head back home.”
“Uh… yeah. I guess.” He said nothing more as I collected the clubs and tossed them in the back of the cart. Dad climbed inside, sitting forward, eyes ahead. He was disappointed. I pretended his forgetfulness didn’t bother me by mentioning how great his swing was—how he still had it. It made him feel somewhat better, but not entirely.
The car ride was quiet on the way back home. We arrived in fifteen minutes, catching Margie in the kitchen, whipping up some lunch. “Well, look who’s back!” she chimed, turning around with a pink apron tied at her waist. “How was it?” she asked as I shut the garage door behind me.
“A disaster,” Dad grumbled.
“Was not,” I argued. “It was great, Margie. He still has his swing.”
“That’s wonderful!” Her chubby cheeks spread as she looked from me to my dad. “Are you hungry, Mr. Knight?”
“No, no.” He waved a hand. “I just want to rest.” He said this while he was already walking out of the kitchen. Margie quickly turned the stove off, following after him but giving me a wink before disappearing. She had it from here.
Blowing out a deep breath, I sat at the counter and ran my fingers across my face. It was getting worse for him. I didn’t know how much more I could handle.
Slipping off the stool, I tiptoed upstairs and took a shower, ridding myself of the ninety-degree heat. Once I finished, I got dressed and heard my phone buzz in the pocket of my shorts.
I figured it was Izzy or even Mariah. I was wrong.
It was Theo.
Theo: Plans tonight?
Me: …not sure yet.
Theo: Can we meet?
Me: What if I end up having plans?
Theo: I asked first.
Me: Actually, no. Someone already beat you to the punch.
I just haven’t confirmed or anything yet.
Theo: A guy??
I frowned, but then I smiled, pleased to know he even cared.
Me: No. My roommate is coming to Bristle.
Wants me to hang with her.
Theo: A specific place?
Me: At stupid Brix.
Me: I’ll be free after the club…
Theo: Well if u get bored u should come to Dane’s.
Only a block away from Brix.
Drinks on me if you decide to come, LK. No pressure.
Little Knight.
My cheeks blazed like a furnace. If Theo was coming to the city, that meant I needed to dress accordingly—look too hot to touch. I called Mariah and told her I’d show. She was beyond thrilled.
After setting a time, I relaxed during the rest of my day, taking up the idea of reading a book by the pool and wondering just how I would make it through a night that ended with Theo Black. I didn’t confirm with him on purpose. I didn’t need him thinking I was too eager to see him, even though I was.
I thought of every bad scenario—someone knowing he was Izzy’s dad, seeing us put on a display of affection in public or quite possibly catching us making googly eyes at one another. That person would then inform Izzy or someone that knew her, leaving us both fucked and left to drown.
But then I thought of the good.
I could drink with him… again.
I could have a good time with him beneath dim lights. Dane’s, a place where no one worried about what anyone else was doing. A place where alcoholics could drink without limits and women didn’t have to worry about being harassed because the alcoholics cared more for the bottles than various amounts of ass flouncing around.
I could smell him again… taste him again… hold him again.
There were way too many possibilities, and although I had those bad scenarios in the back of my mind, nothing could top the excitement I felt coursing through me when I thought of him.
I was ready. I needed to see Theo.
And I needed him immediately, in every way possible.
Eleven
Dane’s was just like how it used to be during my worst times—dim lights, a weird peanut smell, and annoying alternative music that was, fortunately, easy to ignore with the flat screens plastered on every cement wall, streaming ESPN. The waitresses still dressed like they had no mother to raise them. Short leather skirts or short black shorts and tank tops that showcased a large pair of tits.
I picked up the whiskey Marcel slid across the bar, giving him a quick bob of my head as I lifted the glass to my lips. He returned the gesture before turning his back to me with a rag and a wet glass in hand, clearing it of soap and droplets.
After taking a long sip, allowing the burn to further relax me, I flicked my wrist, checking the time. It was nearing midnight. I thought for sure she’d make an appearance before now, but I guess I was wrong.
My leg bounced, my shoe pressing into the metal bar of the chair.
I looked around, thinking maybe she was somewhere else. Maybe looking for me? Shit, who was I kidding?
She knew better.
Maybe it was a good thing she didn’t show.
We needed to get over each other. Though I hated rejection and being stood up, I could understand a no-show. And the worst part? I couldn’t be upset about it. She was young. I was twenty years older than her. She was in college with her whole life ahead of her, and I’d already established mine. I owned a car shop and had settled my party-going ways a long time ago.
I finished off my third whiskey, and Marcel turned, one of his bushy eyebrows arching. “‘Nother round?”
“Nah.” I pulled the wallet out of my back pocket with the chain attached and flipped it open, sliding two twenties across the counter. “I’m good for the night. Gotta drive. Appreciate it though.”
Marcel accepted the change. “Mmmhmm.”
Standing from the stool, I turned for the exit, the bright neon lights burning my eyes as I staggered toward the door. Before I could reach the handle, the door had already swung open, and a young girl with the ends of her hair dyed pink dashed in, laughing so hard I swear she was about to pop a lung.
“Oh my gosh! This place fucking sucks!” she yelled, loud enough for Marcel to hear. I glanced back. Marcel’s line of sight shifted from the TV screen above him to the girl. He then looked at me. I shrugged, looking forward again. “Damn it, Chloe! Why’d you drag us here?”
Chloe? I wasn’t sure how I made out that name, considering the girl’s speech was horribly slurred. My back straightened, breathing turning shallow as I focused on the other girl that walked through the door. And my fucking god, she looked amazing. Good enough to fucking eat, but maybe just a little too hot to devour right away.
In this moment, as she walked inside with a halter dress that hugged her body, strappy heels, and her hair pinned up, it seemed she was on fucking fire. And for only a millisecond, I couldn’t breathe. I liked this fiery side of her.
Blazing.
Burning.
Untouchable.
If I got too close, I knew she’d burn me. But, like a child, I was mesmerized, dying to cop a feel. Unable to stop staring. Wanting so badly to play with that raging blaze.
Fuck.
Her eyes caught mine when she made it through the door, a guy following behind her. My fists automatically clenched as he pressed his palm on the small of her back and said something to her, but then he hurried for the pink-haired girl. I realized he wasn’t Chloe’s date. He was the crazy girl’s.
Pink Hair and her date went to the bar, ordering a round of drinks from an irritated Marcel. He was never the type to kick anyone out, especially if the kids looked wealthy and ready to drink the night away, and that was exactly what they looked like. Ready to party. Ready to get wasted. Ready to blow all their money on overpriced drinks.
I turned forward again, watching as Chloe stood there, a light smile on her face. Her grey eyes bolted with mine, the sound of a lock clinking in my head, verifying that I would no longer be able to look away from her for the rest of the night.
Her skin looked as smooth as satin beneath the dim lights, her hair probably as soft as silk. It was actually tamed tonight. No wild curls. No hippie style to go along with it. It suited her as well. She had a versatile appeal.
“Hi, Theo,” she murmured, taking a step towards me. “Sorry I’m so late.”
“Nah… it’s all good.” I took a step with her. “Didn’t think you’d show though.”
“Good… that’s exactly what I wanted.” Her cheeks stretched.
“Oh really? And why is that?”
“I wanted to see how long you’d wait.”
I shrugged. “Playing the hard to get game, huh?”
“No not at all,” she teased.
“I just figured you’d made up your mind… chose a different path.”
Her brows narrowed. “What do you mean by that?”
“You know what I mean.” Her eyes moved quickly from mine, avoiding the subject at all costs. Sighing, she looked from me to the bar, shaking her head at her friends. “Those must be the friends that beat me to the punch, I presume?” I decided to forget about the subject too.
“Yep.”
“Wild,” I chuckled.
“Her name in my phone is actually Wild Child. What a coincidence!”
I glanced over my shoulder. “I can see why.”
She continued a smile, rocking on her heels. To avoid awkwardness I pointed back with my thumb, gesturing towards the counter. “How about we join them? I owe you a drink, right?”
“Oh—no!” She waved a hand. “You don’t have to. I’m DD.”
“DD?” I frowned, confused.
She giggled. “Designated driver.”
“Ohh.” I cracked a half-smile. “I knew that. Shit, one drink won’t kill you. Come on!”
She looked at me and then at the bar. I guess all of the aligned bottles on the shelves felt welcoming because she finally moved forward. “Fine, but sheesh,” Chloe laughed, walking past me and meeting at the far end of the bar. “Come on Mr. Black, you aren’t that old. You should know what DD means.”
I watched her hips swing, throbbing when my last name ran off her lips. I controlled myself, keeping my voice even as I said, “Your generation is a little different than mine.” I followed her to the bar, taking a seat.
“How so?” she questioned.
“Just is. Some of the shit I hear kids say now confuses the fuck out of me.”
Chloe laughed, her eyes shimmering from the dim lighting above. “Like YOLO, thot, and Bye, Felicia?”
“Exactly! What do those even mean?” I gestured for Marcel to come my way and after ordering another drink for myself and allowing her to order her own, she responded.
“YOLO means ‘you only live once’. A thot is a girl that apparently is a whore, or someone that will sleep with anyone for attention. And Bye, Felicia pretty much means ‘get the fuck out of here with your bullshit’.”
My eyes expanded, and I couldn’t help the laugh that spewed out of me. “Wow… see! Like I said. This generation comes up with some pretty wild shit.”
She shook her head, still fighting that cute little grin. Her arm happened to brush mine, a bolt of electricity lighting my core. As if she felt that same spark, she looked up at me, but she didn’t dare move away. The smoothness of her skin on mine, the flesh on flesh, was all too familiar, and I refused to kill this moment by pulling away. I couldn’t be a pussy, pretend nothing was here when there was clearly so much.
So many unanswered questions.
So many unshared moments.
So many times I’ve wanted to make her mine repeatedly, take her in every position, hear her whisper and then cry my name, hold me close as our lips molded, our breathing entwined, deep in passionate trances.
I placed my hand on top of the one she had resting on her lap. Moments later and the wild girl appeared over Chloe’s shoulder, her drink sloshing all over the countertop, interrupting our connected gazes. Chloe turned quickly to take the drink from her and placed it on the counter before she could spill it on our clothes.
“Chloe,” the girl whined, “can we pleeaaassseee go back to Brix. I was having so much fun there!”
“I know, but you swore we could come to Dane’s at twelve, Mariah.” Chloe frowned.
“Yah… I know, but…ugh.” She looked around in revulsion. “We’re not having fun here.” She pouted her bottom lip, placing her elbow on the edge of the counter. She then zoned in on me, her hooded eyes narrowing. “Oh my gosh… you are so fucking hot!”
I pressed my lips, nodding in appreciation.
“No seriously…” The Mariah girl stood up straight. “Is he why you wanted to come here? My fucking goodness he’s beautiful.”
Chloe’s cheeks burned, and she purposely avoided my eyes.
“He looks sooo familiar though…” Her lips twisted as she walked around Chloe to get a closer look at me. When it finally registered, she said, “Oh! I know! He totally looks like your friend Izzy! You know, the one we hung out with for spring break last year?”
In an instant, my face went strict, jaw ticking. Reality, like a whirlwind, hit me and I turned forward, looking up at the screen and pulling my hand far away from Chloe’s. I pretended not to notice Marcel looking at me from his end of the bar. I was sure he’d been wondering why I was hanging around my daughter’s friends at a bar… buying them drinks. Snooting it up with her best friend.
Swallowing thickly, I picked up my drink and finished it. When I finally looked at Chloe, she was speechless as well, like she, too, had forgotten about reality. Her head dropped, pulling from our connected line of sight. “How about I take you guys back to Brix?” I offered, sliding off my stool.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to.” She downed her cranberry-vodka and then slammed the empty glass on the marble. “I can take them back.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” Mariah butted in. “That was her first drink of the night. So fucking lame, right?” Her laugh came out like more of a cackle, causing her date to join in on the laughter with her. Man, they were annoying little shits. How could she deal with this all night? I’m almost certain that, when I was their age, I wasn’t that obnoxious.
“Come on, Tiny!” Mariah waved for the lanky boy at the bar to follow her outside. When they were long gone, Marcel blew a sigh and picked up their glasses, wiping their area clean. Chloe remained seated, looking at me for a brief moment before dropping her head.
“She doesn’t know who you are,” she murmured, “…if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Yeah, I know.” I scratched my chin. “Sure you don’t want me to drop you off?”
She stood from the stool, looking into my eyes as she neared me. My pounding heart caught speed as she placed a hand on top of my shoulder. “I was actually thinking about dropping them off and meeting you… if that’s okay?”
“Shit… yeah. More than okay.”
“Where should we meet?”
I thought of it, and when I pictured the perfect place, I told her, “I’ll text you the address.”
She nodded. “Okay.” Then, she walked past me, her round ass bouncing, heels clicking across the wooden floorboards. Glancing over her shoulder, lips full and supple, she sarcastically asked, “Just try and make it a little public, will you?”
She had no idea. The place I had in mind was more private than a secluded hotel room reserved for a celebrity. With a half-smile on my lips, I watched as she left the bar, her words running back and forth in my head. I leaned my elbows on the counter, sighing as I pulled out my cell phone. Marcel still stood at the bar, clearing his throat.
When I turned around to look at him, his brows were stitched, lips pressed thin. He was a buff guy with a shiny baldhead and a hoop earring in his left ear. His reddish goatee had grown out since the last time I saw him, his grey t-shirt stained with sweat. “Mind telling me what the hell that was?”
“What do you mean?” I pretended I didn’t know what he was talking about.
“The girl,” he gestured towards the door, “…the one that’s about half your age that just walked out of here. Isn’t that little Chloe?”
I glanced down, running my tongue over my teeth. I could have explained it to him, but I just didn’t know how. “Look, Marcel, just pretend you didn’t even see her here.”
He grunted and it just so happened to be the sound of his laughter. “I see plenty of shit going on around here. Trust me, this isn’t the worst of it. Ain’t my business but… be careful, man. And be wise.”
He, of all people, knew what he was talking about. He knew my daughter. I talked about her at least once every time I made an appearance here. Considering he had a daughter himself, I could only imagine what he was thinking.
Did he consider me a pervert?
A dipshit?
An idiot that overpaid for drinks?
As all of that clicked in my brain, I started to think… what if an older man came onto my daughter? A man that I thought I could trust? A man that was supposed to look out for her, not fuck her brains out?
Fuck no. I couldn’t even fucking imagine a man my age touching my daughter. My child. My fucking life.
Dropping another wad of bills on the counter for Chloe’s forgetful friends and myself, I marched for the exit and hopped into my car, cranking it and driving to the one place I should have been all along.
Home.
Away from the fantasies.
Away from what wasn’t meant to be.
Away from Chloe.