At the Stars by Elisabeth Staab

Author:Elisabeth Staab [Staab, Elisabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: bartender, boxing, mechanic, music, new adult romance, new beginnings, small town romance, Abuse themes
ISBN: 9780991390342
Publisher: Elisabeth Staab
Published: 2015-05-05T04:00:00+00:00

12. THE FUCKING MILKSHAKE

Jake

I tell myself I’m only here to offer an olive branch. Why then, am I showing up at Cassie’s room so late at night? I could have waited till tomorrow. Gone by the coffee shop at a decent hour. Except it was my night to help clean up the garage, and in the midst of racking tires and storing pry bars, I thought of a way to smooth things over with Cassie. No time like the present.

I needed any excuse to lie low, anyway. There was a guy hanging out on my street tonight in a car I didn’t recognize. Could’ve been some neighbor’s friend out for a smoke, but pulling into the driveway didn’t immediately seem like the best plan.

When I knock on Cassie’s door, there’s no answer. It’s after nine. I guess she could be in bed, but it still seems early for her to have already hit the sack. I try again, louder. Still no answer.

Wherever she is, it’s none of my business. None of my business.

I beat my brain mushy with that reminder while I stand there at her door. Jamming my hands into my pockets, I turn around and lean my back against the wall. The night is cooling down. The crickets and fireflies have come out. This sort of night would be nice for a walk or a picnic outside with someone you cared about¸ but I don’t have that sort of person.

So why am I here? I guess I know. I’m here because a pretty twenty-one-year-old keeps pushing her lips against mine, and I’m a red-blooded guy. She says she doesn’t mind that I don’t want serious. She’s leaving town soon. Gun to my head, I guess I figured... I figured it might be okay to give in.

When I’m in a rational state of mind, I know better. There’s no such thing as “simple” and “no strings” when it comes to sex. I’ve seen it go wrong too many ways. When I’m alone, though, and I can’t get that kiss out of my mind, and—okay, fine—I’ve gotten the fiftieth call from home that I can’t answer, the idea of some company from this girl doesn’t seem so bad.

Until I see a shiny, silver Carrera pull into the parking lot. Then I see Cassie get out. Out of Dante Ramos’s fucking car.

I’m invisible to them in the shadows against Cassie’s door. While she comes around the car to hug Dante—to kiss him on the cheek—the tips of my torn-up fingers push into my thighs through my pockets hard enough to make bruises.

“What the fuck is she doing with him?” I whisper the question to myself, harsh and desperate. Honestly, who the fuck else do I have to blame?

Dante doesn’t owe me. We’re not friends like that. It’s not like he had any “Bro Code” obligation to keep his hands off. And Cassie? What damn reason have I given her not to look elsewhere?

Dante leans close to say something I can’t hear while he takes her hands in both of his.

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