Mercedes
SHORTLY BEFORE OUR parents were due to leave for their trip, I found myself being led to a table by a waiter who looked more suitable to dine at this establishment than I did.
“Your family have yet to arrive, Miss,” he told me as he pulled out a chair for me to sit. “Can I get you something to drink while you wait?”
“Thanks.” I sat down and smiled politely. “I’ll have a Coke if that’s okay?”
“I’ll be right back with that, Miss,” the waiter announced with a flourish before hurrying off.
My short black skirt, converse, ponytail, and coffee stained tee didn’t exactly say sophisticated – which was just what Chez Barelles screamed. I had just clocked off work and hadn’t time to go home and change. I had woken up late this morning to a flat tire on the front passenger side of my Comet.
I couldn’t be late to work, so I snagged a ride to the Coffee Shop with Gabe’s driver, Sergio, and had run three blocks across town to get here.
Exhaling a heavy sigh, I leaned back in my seat and took in my surroundings. The crisp white tablecloth laid over the round table looked ridiculously plush and expensive. I could never understand why restaurant owners did that. Why would they put white table cloths down? It was inevitable the fabric would get ruined. Sure, it was fancy, but it wasn’t practical.
The waiter returned with my Coke and I thanked him before taking a deep drink. The table was set for six people, myself included, and I wondered who our extra guest would be. Gabe had obviously talked Rourke into this family dinner bullshit. I checked the screen of my phone. 7:46
They were over fifteen minutes late. It pissed me off that Gabe had made such a big deal about all of us meeting on time and yet I was the only one here.
Another ten minutes slipped by and the waiter returned, looking down at me with a slightly impatient frown. He looked at the five empty chairs and made a low tutting sound as he tapped his pencil against the pad he was holding.
Embarrassed and equally annoyed, I threw my hands up. What could I say? I was here; I wasn’t responsible for the rest of my estranged family. Inconsiderate assholes.
Concentrating hard on my glass, I tipped it from side to side, watching as the two melting ice cubes clanked and slid around in the bottom of the empty glass. This sucked ass.
I waited another twenty minutes before admitting defeat and pushing back my chair. I apologized to the annoyed waiter and paid for my coke, tipping him my last ten bucks before hurrying out of the restaurant with my face blazing red.
When I reached the front of the restaurant, I inhaled a deep breath, taking in the smell of the ocean close by. I liked it. I hated that I did, but I liked being close to the water. It made me feel…free, even if that was silly. Wrapping my arms around myself, I mentally prepared for the twenty-minute walk back to Gabe’s place, and stepped out onto the street. My step faltered when I noticed the familiar black Chevrolet Silverado parked a few cars down the street.
Rourke was standing in front of the hood of his truck with his back to me.
Was he…?
Oh yeah, the extra pair of slender legs I noticed between his assured me Rourke was pressing some girl up against his fucking car. I was disturbed and oddly jealous. Ugh. Smacking down that notion, I glowered at the big bastard and stalked towards him.
“Where the hell were you?” Furious, I marched straight up to him. “I’ve been waiting in there for almost an hour and not one of you showed up!”
My accusatory tone didn’t go unnoticed and Rourke stiffened before slowly turning around to face me. He took a slow appraisal of my body before looking at me with a bored expression. “They cancelled.”
“They canceled?” I repeated, furious. “Are you fucking serious?”
Rourke glared at me. “Hey,” he snarled. “Don’t fucking shoot the messenger. I just found out myself.”
Message? “What goddamn message?” Huffing, I snagged my phone out of my pocket and glanced at the screen. “I didn’t get any message.”
Rourke growled and ran an impatient hand through his dark hair. “Your mother wasn’t feeling well today, so my Dad took her to the emergency room –”
“My Mom’s sick?” I interrupted, voice cracking. A shooting blast of paralyzing fear shot through me. “Omigod.”
“She’s fine,” he was quick to say. “Baby’s fine, too.” Rourke exhaled an impatient sigh, like giving me the news that my mother was fine pained him. “Some shit about cramping and spotting.”
“But she’s okay?”
Rourke nodded once. “All good now.”
“Okay,” I squeezed out, forcing myself to hold back the emotions bubbling up inside. “Good.”
I stood there on the street looking at my stepbrother for an abnormally long time before exhaling a huge sigh of relief.
Mom was okay.
This was good.
“What’s her problem?” the girl Rourke had been leaning against asked with a pout. “Why’s she looking at you like that?”
“I’m right here, precious,” I snapped, glaring at the blonde. “You talk about me then talk to me.”
“Fine,” the blonde hissed. “What’s your problem?”
“My problem?” I repeated, mulling over the word like I had to think about it. I didn’t. My problem was this fucked up family I had been roped into. My problem was the fact that my mother was pregnant and I was scared to death of what happened next. My problem was the fact that she had her fingers hooked in the loopholes of Rourke’s jeans. And my biggest fucking problem was the fact that I cared so damn much.
Refusing to embarrass myself further, I knew I would if I opened my mouth, I walked around them and continued down the sidewalk in the direction of Gabe’s house.
This sucked.
My life sucked.
Ocean Bay sucked.
I wanted to go home… if only I knew where that was.
I had passed my fourteenth street lamp and the last on the street when the sound of an engine revving behind me filled my ears. I didn’t have to look behind me to know who the owner was. Rourke.
I had no plans on stopping. Knowing Rourke, he would offer me a ride and then drive off the moment I accepted. And besides, I didn’t want to have to share a car with the blonde he’d been heavily petting.
“Where’s your car?” Rourke called out, lowering the car window.
I didn’t answer.
“Six?”
Nope. I wasn’t answering him.
“Do you need a ride?”
For some inconceivable reason, my chest had constricted and I could feel the burning sensation in my eyes. Why the hell was I about to cry? What the fuck was wrong with me? Rourke was offering me a ride home and I was two seconds away from crying?
“Get in, Six.”
I shook my head and concentrated on the long stretch of road ahead of me.
“Get the fuck in my truck, Six.”
“Why the hell are you offering me a ride?” I snarled, unsure of why I was so suddenly and furiously upset with him. “You don’t even like me.”
“Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean I want to see you get raped,” he shot back flatly. “Young, female, and walking all alone at night? Not fucking smart, Six.”
He was right. I reluctantly had to acknowledge the bastard was right. “Fine.”
I stopped in my tracks and turned to stare at him, expecting to see a smug looking blonde in the passenger seat, but that’s not what greeted me.
He was alone.
Rourke
SIX CLIMBED INTO THE passenger seat of my truck and fastened her seatbelt. I didn’t say a word to her. She looked about two seconds away from crying and I had a feeling that whatever came out of my mouth would set her off.
I’d seen the expression on her face when I told her about her mom. Her whole world crumbled in the two seconds it took me to give her the news and tell her everything was okay.
Why couldn’t they have sent her a damn message?
Why the fuck was I the one taking care of her now?
Why did I care?
And where the fuck was her car?
Goddammit.
Silent, I threw the truck into gear and tore off in the direction of the house.
“You’re sure my mom’s okay?” Six finally broke the silence by asking and I nodded.
“She’s fine, Six.”
“Was that your girlfriend?”
I turned and looked at her.
“The blonde,” she clarified. Clasping her hands in front of her, she exhaled heavily. “With the legs.”
I smirked and turned my attention back to the road ahead of us. Six was talking about Meredith Sanders. “No,” I replied after a pause. “She’s just a girl from school. Not my girlfriend.” Although, she apparently wanted to be.
I had just pulled up at the restaurant earlier when I got the message from my Dad, calling a rain check on dinner. The dinner they had obviously forgotten to mention was canceled to Six. Assholes.
I’d been reading the text from Dad when a very drunk Meredith had opened the passenger door of my truck and climbed in.
Having managed to sweet-talk her out of my truck, I’d been trying and failing to coax the girl to go home when Six arrived.
To be honest, I’d been sort of relieved to see her. Saved me a huge fucking swell of regret later.
“Huh,” Six muttered with a grimace. “Could’ve fooled me; the way she was all over you.”
“Mere is… friendly.” I frowned, wondering what kinder way there was to call a girl loose. “She uh, likes footballers.” That was putting it mildly.
In junior year alone, Mere had fucked Reebo, Mase, Bear, Clayton, Reeves, and Lewis. Daryl took her v-card in sophomore year so that was him scratched off the list.
“She wants me,” I explained with a frown. It sounded vain as hell when I said it like that, but it was the truth. Meredith wanted to add my name to the list of Ocean Bay Falcon’s she’d bagged.
“I find that hard to believe,” Six shot back.
“What? That she’d want to fuck me?”
Six blushed. “No.” She scrunched her nose up. “Yes… Ugh, I don’t know. It just sounds like something a guy a would do.”
“Wow. Sexist much?”
“I’m not being sexist,” she shot back.
“Yeah, you are.”
“How’d you figure that one?”
“Because you think only a guy would go out with the intention of banging?”
“Well, yeah.”
“That’s sexist.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yeah, it is,” I argued, amused. “What about girls? Do you think they don’t enjoy sex?”
“Well obviously girls enjoy sex, too, Rourke,” Six snapped.
“Then why’s it hard for you to believe Meredith wants to fuck as many guys from the team as possible?”
“Because it’s cheap!” she retorted angrily.
“Double standards, Six.” I laughed as I pulled into our driveway. “And here I was thinking you were a twenty-first century girl.”
“A girl wouldn’t think like that.”
“That one does,” I shot back.
“Whatever,” she huffed. “You shouldn’t have led her on anyway.”
“Did you see me kiss her?” Pulling up outside the house, I killed the engine. “Well. Did you?”
“Well…no,” she replied. “But you didn’t push her away.”
“Christ.” I unfastened my belt and turned in my seat to look at her. “What’s your problem? Are you jealous or something?”
“What?” she squeaked, face snapping towards me. “No. Of course I’m not jealous. Why would I be jealous?” Glaring up at my face, she added, “I don’t give a damn what you do or who you do it with, Rourke.”
I shrugged. “You’re asking an awful lot of question for someone who doesn’t give a damn.”
Her jaw fell open and I grinned.
“You know, sometimes I really hate you,” Six muttered as she shoved open the passenger door and shimmied out. “You’re a real jackass, Rourke Owens.”
Yeah, she was probably right about me being a jackass. For some reason, when I was around that girl, the asshole in me came out in full force.
Six slammed the door in my face, and I watched with a shit eating grin on my face as she walked that fine ass of hers into my house.