“Not the bar,” I add quickly. “I’m going to the deli, next door to the bar.”
Pax smiles again. “All by yourself? Haven’t you heard that there are some bad things going on in Angel Bay? Just a while back, some dumbass overdosed on the beach. Apparently, they’re letting all kinds of assholes in nowadays. It’s probably not safe for you to walk alone.”
I have to grin now, at his audacity.
“Oh, really? Wow. That does sound bad. Assholes are just running loose on our streets? I guess I’ll never know now when I’m going to bump into one.”
“How very true,” he answers softly, his golden eyes frozen on mine. Sweet Jesus. The man has beautiful eyes. So bottomless and warm. Like hot caramel. I gulp.
“Is this when you take your lunch every day?” he finally asks, breaking the silent stare.
“If I go out,” I answer. “Are you planning on stalking me again?”
We’re still standing in the middle of the sidewalk, but Pax doesn’t seem to care. Instead, he grins.
“Maybe,” he answers, before holding his arm out like a gentleman.
“Since I’m here and you’re here and we’re both going in the same direction… I’ll walk you today. I’ll keep the wolves at bay.”
I stare up at him as I slip my fingers into the crook of his leather covered elbow.
“I thought you were the baddest wolf of them all?”
He grins again, wickedly. It lights up his eyes with a gleam.
“That’s probably true,” he admits. “Are you afraid?”
“I should be,” I tell him.
But I’m not.
He walks me to the deli’s door and steps away from me. I feel the absence of his warmth immediately.
“Have a good day, Mila Hill,” he tells me, his eyes flickering up and down the length of me. “Watch out for those wolves.”
And he’s gone. He disappears into the bar and I realize that I’m standing alone outside. I shake my head and sigh, going inside to order my sandwich. I have no idea what just happened, but Pax Tate is firmly in my head now. And I have the feeling he’s not going anywhere. My stomach flutters and I realize that I like that thought.
********
Pax
I walk Mila to the deli all week.
I have no idea why.
All I know is…I’m drawn to her. She’s everything that I’m not and it fascinates the hell out of me. And it fascinates me that she hasn’t told me to leave her alone. She seems as entranced by the situation as I am.
So every day, at 11:00 a.m., I roll out of bed and shower, then make my way into town. I park in the same place and wait until she comes out.
Every day, she teases me about stalking her.
Every day, I tell her that she’s the stalker, because she’s choosing to walk past my car. Never mind the fact that I’m parking directly in front of her shop now. She giggles and flushes and looks into my eyes and I swear to god, I have no idea what I’m doing.
But I keep doing it.
And she seems to like it.
Yesterday, she mentioned that she was taking today off, just in case I needed to know for my ‘stalking calendar.’ I love a girl with a sense of humor. And I have to admit, today feels a bit empty because I know that I won’t be seeing her. She gave me something to get up for, something to look forward to.
But not today.
I woke up early this morning from a restless sleep, roused by my own tossing and turning. I’ve always been a bit of an insomniac and actually, it’s why I started taking pills in the first place, years ago. I realized way back then how easy it was, how very easy, to swallow a pill and slip into oblivion.
I had a therapist after my mom died, and even though I can’t remember what he looked like, I can remember that he prescribed me sleeping pills. It helped keep the nightmares away.
All I remember now about the nightmares is that they were horrible. Bad enough that I used to sneak down and sleep in the doorway to my father’s room. He would wake in the morning and find me sprawled on the floor. And I would wake not remembering my dreams.
My therapist told my father it was my mind’s way of protecting itself from the emotional trauma. Well, my mind has done a good job. To this day, I don’t remember the events surrounding my mother’s death.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I pick it up to find a text from my father.
You need to come sign your papers.
Fuck. It’s that time already?
I toss the phone back on the stand, where it skids across the mahogany, coming to rest against the wall. Every quarter, I have to sign papers for my trust fund, since it is fed by my mother’s family business. I am technically the sole heir to her shares. It’s a pain in the ass, but it’s a necessary evil.
I am on the way to the shower when my doorbell rings and I pause. I’m not expecting anyone. It had better not be someone trying to sell me religion or they might find their teeth knocked into their throat.