Kat
“Kat, you’re so crazy! You could have gotten hurt!”
A mother-hen look of horror pinches Athena’s face as she curls up on the couch with a coffee mug, her middle and pointer fingers woven through the handle of the cup. “Yeah, except I was the one who broke the guy’s nose. Guess my relationship with Costas taught me a thing or two after all. At least one of us has a stiff wrist.”
Athena snorts into her cup, and coffee splashes onto her face. “I shouldn’t laugh; it’s not funny. That asshole put you in the hospital.”
I wave her off and sip my wine. It’s ancient history, and I’m not that pathetic little girl anymore. I’m never going to let another man treat me like that ever again. From that moment on, I had the upper hand. In all situations.
“The worst part is that I can’t find my phone. I know I had it on my way to work. I just don’t know where I lost it.”
“Oh! I completely forgot! A guy called me today. He has your phone. Said he took it to your job, but you were already gone. I gave him my address to drop it here.”
My brows crease together. “That’s weird. Did he give his name?”
Athena squints and looks up into space. “Trace or something. He was very nice.”
Chase! I must have left my phone in his car! I always forget shit. I swear I’d forget my head if it wasn’t attached. He must have looked through my contacts and called Athena first. It makes sense.
The doorbell rings, and my heart rate picks up. Weird that a doorbell would inspire that kind of reaction from me.
“Mooooom!!! Someone’s here for Aunt Kaaaat!” Tiny footsteps scurry up the stairs followed by the slam of a door. Athena’s ten-going-on-twenty-year-old daughter must have been expecting someone else.
I run a hand through my hair en route to the front door with Athena at my heels. She’s so nosy. Chase is hovering in the doorway. Holy shit, this guy is sexy. I must have been too distracted by Beef Dude to notice.
The eyes catch me first. As aqua as sea glass. There isn’t a single light eye anywhere in my family. Every last one of us has brown, but Chase’s are so oddly pale they stand out from down the hall.
He smiles when he sees me. Jesus, the guy has a dimple too? Where the hell did that come from? A bit of metal sits between his lips. A silver ring looped through his skin near the corner of his mouth. I fluff my hair again and wish I’d put on some fresh gloss before coming to the door. This morning, I barely looked at him, but now, I can’t seem to stop.
I step out onto the porch, closing the door behind me and leaving Athena in the house. “Hey, Chase. Two good deeds in one day, huh? You must be working overtime for the man upstairs.” I point at the sky. When his smile deepens, so does the dimple. I didn’t think it was possible for a guy to be hot and adorable at the same time.
“Figured you’d want this for the weekend.” He holds out my phone but snaps his hand back when I try to take it. Captain Cutie Pie is totally flirting with me. “Is that your dog in the background?”
“Yeah.” I smile. “That’s my baby, Aphrodite.”
He holds both his hands up, my phone resting between his thumb and pinky on one of them. “Wait a second. You named your dog Aphrodite? You can’t be serious.”
“Why is that so hard to believe?” If he starts talking smack about my dog, he’s going to lose serious hot points. No one fucks with my Aphro.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his own phone. A pit bull lounges in the grass chewing on a tree branch beneath the row of evenly placed icons on the screen. “This is my baby boy. Zeus.”
My mouth drops open. Cute, sweet, and he likes dogs and mythology? Did this guy recently fall from heaven or what? He’s so perfect I expect angel wings to emerge from his back. This shit-tastic day is starting to look up!
He holds my phone out again, letting me pluck it from his calloused fingers. “You have to give me an opportunity to thank you.”
Sweep the hair. Bat the lashes. Arch the back ever so slightly.
Chase shrugs. “Wanna go grab a bite?”
Swing and a miss!
Of the many things I’d like to do with him, eating is last on the list. Unless, of course, I’m the one he plans on dining on. I definitely owe him one for being so nice. But who am I kidding? The pleasure’s all mine on this one. This guy’s slender, but he looks tough. In my experience, the tall, skinny white guys are usually the ones packin’ the most heat. I bet he’s a beast in the bedroom. Maybe spending a little more time with him wouldn’t be so bad.
“Sure. There’s a place up the road that has decent food and the best signature cocktails.”
“Oh, okay. That’s cool. I don’t drink, so I’ll take your word for it.”
The sentence brings my libido to a screeching halt. And there’s the flaw. Captain Cutie Pie doesn’t drink? Total buzzkill. “Why not?”
Another smile, another tumble in my gut. “High on life.”
“Let me run inside and get my stuff.” I barrel in through the front door and find Athena in the kitchen as usual. “I’m out, cuz. Me and Captain Cutie Pie are going to Red Barn,” I tell her while rummaging through my bag to find my lip gloss.
“He asked you out?”
Athena looks more excited than I am. She and I are first-generation Greek American. Her mother was pregnant when her parents laid down roots here, and mine followed shortly after with our giagiá in tow. But, despite our new American heritage, Athena, my brother, Nikos, and I all grew up under a vast umbrella of old-world customs and beliefs. One of which is settling down, having a zillion kids, and continuing the traditions.
Athena did it.
Nikos did it.
I didn’t.
Red Barn looks exactly the way you’d think it does. An old red barn that somehow remained long after this area was built up from farmland. The inside has since been modernized with a cool bar, nice tables, and fancy light fixtures, but the outside shell is, indeed, still a barn. Many spots have been patched and painted, but most of the original structure still stands.
Warm air flows through the wide-open space from the propped open barn doors in the back as a fan spins lazily overhead. This time of year, the patio is open, and tables scatter in no real pattern on the paver stones laid out back.
He stops before crossing the threshold, waiting for me to step out onto the patio first. The hostess drops menus and walks away, leaving Chase, me, and a whole lot of uncomfortable silence hanging between us. He’s a strange dude. Opening doors for me and stuff. He even held the car door. Who does that?
“So . . .” I start. Subconsciously, I reach for the drink menu and begin flipping through the smooth, laminated pages. “Whatever happened with Beef Dude back at the garage?”
The corner of his mouth lifts just enough that one crystal blue eye squints when he looks up. Above it, another silver ring pierces his eyebrow. He has such a baby face. Soft and sweet, with lips in the shape of a plump little bow tie.
“He was gone when I got back. It was pretty baller the way you took that guy down. Impressive.”
The other side raises next and splits his beautiful mouth into a wide grin, exposing a perfect row of white teeth as well as the adorable dimple. Just one, on the right side, close to his mouth. It’s peculiar yet intriguing, much like the man himself.
“People need to learn to keep their hands to themselves.”
Men don’t grab me, and those who do end up meeting the same fate as that asshole. Don’t let the hair and makeup fool you. I’m not one of those girly chicks who cry at romantic movies and wants to be swept off her feet. I call the shots. I make the rules. I take what I want.
Darkness begins shadowing my good mood. The waitress walks over at the perfect time. Before she can even introduce herself, I bark my order way harsher than I intend to. “Long Island Iced Tea, please.”
Chase looks at me with a raised brow as the waitress recovers from her fluster and asks him for his drink order. “Water with lemon.”
“Are you ready to order?”
Two sets of eyes land on me. “I did order.”
“Can we have a minute please, miss?” Chase offers the waitress a polite smile, and she excuses herself to check on her other tables. “What’s your deal?”
“Excuse me?”
He closes his menu and pushes it to the edge of the table. “I’m trying to figure you out. You’re beautiful and tough, those things are obvious, but you use them as a shield. Why?”
“You don’t know me well enough to make that observation.”
“Maybe not. But I see more than you think.”
This ought to be rich. I’ve heard it all. Slut. Bitch. Immature. People only see what they want to see. They think they know everything when, in reality, they don’t know shit because no one cares enough to really try. “Oh? Enlighten me.” I cross my arms over my chest and lean back in my chair.
His teeth grab his bottom lip for a split second, the overhead lights glinting on the metal protruding from his face. “You already reeked of booze when I showed up at your house. Your buzz is beginning to wear off. It’s messing with your moods, and you need another drink to begin to feel normal again. Am I close?” My lips part, but no sound escapes. I just sit there, catching flies as his suspicious gaze bores into me. “The road to sobriety is a simple journey for confused people with a complicated disease.”
I feel my face crinkle up in my best what the fuck expression. Of course, the first hot guy who has potential turns out to be looney tunes. “You’re bat-crap crazy. Anyone ever tell you that?”
His face splits into another perfect grin. “All the damn time. But it’s part of my charm.”
One well-deserved eye roll later, my drink finally shows up at the table. “Hair of the dog,” I toast, lifting my glass up before bringing the straw to my lips. The sweet flavor rolls around my mouth before sliding down my throat. Nectar of the gods.
The waitress pulls out her little pad again and waits for me to order. “Just bring us two burgers, please, miss,” Chase tells her.
“Do you want ch– ?”
“No, I don’t want a burger.”
The waitress pauses and looks back at Chase. “Then order something. I’m not eating alone.”
What is this guy’s deal? “No.”
Another gleam of light flickers off the silver ring in his brow when he raises it. “Just put in the order, miss. No cheese. Thank you,” he says to the waitress again, who walks off with an exasperated sigh.
“And another Long Island!” I call after her. “I’m not eating it,” I add to Chase, whose pale eyes twinkle with assertion.
He shrugs, tonguing the ring in his lip, which actually makes my pulse jump. I must just be feeling the effects of the tea because he’s annoying as fuck. Yet, for some reason, I find myself squirming in my seat every damn time that tongue flicks the tiny speck of metal on his face.
The waitress returns with two Long Islands and places them down in front of me. “One is from the gentleman at the bar.”
I whip my head around, searching the crowd for a familiar face, but nothing stands out. “Who?” I ask.
She points at a guy coming our way. The crooked red ball cap resting on his head is an exact match to his sneakers. Diamond studs in each ear wink as he approaches. Chase’s Old Navy sweatshirt jacket may be juvenile as shit, but this guy looks like a straight-up douchebag. Lord help me if I slept with this guy and don’t remember.
“Hey, Kat. I’m glad you came in. You know, I tried to call, but the number you gave me was disconnected.”
Fuck me running; I did sleep with this guy. Hookup rule number one—never give out the phone number. I’ve made that mistake far too many times. He’ll text, I’ll text back. Shortly after will come the dick pics. Gross. Why do guys think that since we had a good time, it means I want to see a close-up portrait of their member on my handheld device? I’m not looking for a repeat performance. Why suffer through the agony? If I’m interested in talking to them again, I’ll take their number and make the call myself. I’m not shy.
“Hey . . . you.” What was his name? George? Gary? Um . . . dammit!
“Steve.”
Close enough. “Yeah, sorry about that, Steve. Went off the grid for a while.” From the corner of my eye, I see Chase’s eyes darken. No trace of his gorgeous smile remains as he stares up at Steve like he’s a virus.
“Cool, cool. I’m down with that.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake, go away.
“If you don’t mind, Steve, Kat and I are in the middle of a date.” Chase’s stern voice is about two octaves lower than it was a second ago. Is he trying to seem tough? This Steve character is pretty built. Not that Chase is a slouch, by any means, but with his slender frame and childlike wardrobe, he’s not my usual type. I generally go for the beefiest dude in the joint. Steve’s got that shit locked and loaded.
Steve presses one hand into another with a series of resounding pops. Oh, God. The last thing I need is a fight for my honor. That ship sailed a long time ago. “Why don’t you give me your number again, Steve? I’ll call you this weekend.” As I flash my sweetest grin and bat my eyelashes, Steve’s chest deflates a bit. Picking up my phone, I pretend to input the numbers as he rattles them off then drop the phone back in my bag. “Thanks for the drink.”
Thankfully, he takes the hint and walks back to the bar. “Sorry about that.”
Chase’s lips press in a thin line. Riddled with a sudden sense of shame, I just want to crawl under the table and hide. Why am I embarrassed? I shouldn’t be. I’m an adult, and Chase is no one to me. He’s the guy who brought my phone back; a guy I’ll likely never see again after this little dinner. His thoughts about me shouldn’t amount to a hill of beans, but they do. For some weird reason, I care what this stranger thinks about me.
“You’re better than that,” he says after a while, his pale gaze drifting to the bar then back to me. “Don’t ever let anyone take advantage of you.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows a sip of water. “What you do with your body is your business. I’m in no position to tell anyone how to live. But when you’re so drunk you can’t even remember a guy’s name, that’s taking advantage. He used you, and he’s sending you drinks with the hope of doing it again.”
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes. I get this trip enough from Athena. The last thing I need is to hear it from him. I own my sexuality, I enjoy it, and fuck anyone who’s going to make me feel guilty for that. “I already have a dad, thank you.”
Chase stretches across the table and swipes my phone from my bag. “Hey! Give me that back!”
I reach for it, but he snaps it away, wildly tapping through my contacts. “BMW Guy. . . Pinky Ring. . . Purple Couch. . .” He reads off the names one by one while the irritation within me turns from a slow simmer to a rolling boil. “You use nicknames because you can’t remember their names. Everything’s a party until it’s not. Remember that.”
“Everything’s a party . . . Who are you? Aristotle? Drop some more wisdom on me! Come on! Dazzle me!” I lift my drink and slam it back in a single suck before reaching for the next. I need a solid buzz if I’m going to deal with this bullshit all night.
He exhales, wiping a hard hand down his face. “I don’t wanna piss you off, okay? But I’ve been where you are.”
The calm tone of his voice slows my roll. “Where am I?”
“Lost.”
Goose bumps break out on my skin. My heart is racing a mile a minute. With one word, Chase has managed to break down my every defense. Except he’s wrong. In order to be lost, you have to know who you were in the first place.