Consumed (Addicted to You Book 1) (3 page)

“Avery, you frustrate me,” she huffed, lying back on her own chair. “You are really pretty. Why do you always believe you aren’t?”

“Look Colby,” I sighed. “I didn’t say I’m hideous. I am average. But guys like that, they don’t want average. They want…you. It’s not a bad thing. I’m okay with it. It’s just the way it is.”

“Whatever,” she grabbed a book and proceeded to ignore me.

I didn’t tell her that I was still glancing in his direction. No way I was going to tell Colby that a part of me wondered what it might be like if she’d been right. How would I feel if a guy like that looked at me? What I wouldn’t give to have someone like that love me. I mean, if love existed like that. Which it most certainly did not.

He didn’t seem to be happy with the party. In fact, he looked downright miserable. My guess was that someone forced him to attend and he didn’t know anyone and wanted to leave. I’d had those types of things happen many times. Especially with Colby. She and I were different and our tastes and comfort levels were nowhere near alike.

I noticed the way he looked in our direction, but I was convinced he wasn’t looking at me. There was no way that he would bother. I adjusted my bikini top and turned back towards my friend.

“He’s not my type anyway,” I offered, wishing she’d talk to me but about another subject.

“How do you figure? What is your type?”

“Not him,” I stated, shrugging because I really didn’t have an answer.

Truthfully, I didn’t have a type. I’d pretty much latched onto a variety of types over the years and none of them had worked out. If they continued to want me, I didn’t want them and vice versa.

“You’re hopeless,” Colby was annoyed and I decided it was time to end the conversation.

Instead of talking, I closed my eyes. It’d be a while before food was done and I didn’t feel much like drinking anymore than I already had. I was off work and I just wanted to soak up the sunshine and fantasize about the Myrtle Beach trip that Colby and I swore we’d take every summer. This would be another that it wouldn’t work out, but there was always the next one.

“Do you have a lighter?” the voice roused me from my thoughts. “I forgot mine at home and my buddy refuses to leave yet.”

I opened my eyes and tried to focus my vision on the face staring down at me. He ran his hand through the dark mop of hair atop his head, cocked his face slightly to the side and turned up the corners of his mouth into a goofy grin.

“Shelby doesn’t like people smoking at her parties,” I informed him.

“Then I’ll take a walk,” he replied. “But if I don’t have a cigarette soon I’m liable to start stabbing people with plastic sporks.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculous threat. He was funny. I had to admit I liked that.

“You might want a better game plan,” I replied. “She buys cheap shit. The only damage you will do is to the spork. Those of us needing to eat wouldn’t be so happy. Inability to consume Amanda’s potato salad just might be cause for a brawl at the barbeque”

“I work with what I’m given,” he answered. “But I generally prefer to avoid violence.”

“Not a barbeque kind of person?”

“The only person I know here is ignoring me to try and hook up with a girl,” he shrugged. “Any girl.” I waited to see if he added more. “I feel a little out of place.”

“I’m sure you’d have no problem finding a girl to talk to yourself,” I mentioned, realizing too late that I was complimenting him inadvertantly.

His grin grew wider.

“I think I did,” he joked. “So, do you have a lighter?”

“I’m not fond of being used for my flame,” I teased.

“What do you prefer to be used for?”

The question made me blush. My sarcasm was strong and instant, but in that moment I couldn’t think of a single reply. For the first time in my life I was left speechless.

“I was kidding,” he offered, seeming nervous that he’d offended me.

“I know,” I spoke softly. “I just didn’t have a comeback.”

“It happens.”

“Not to me. Never.”

“Then I take that as a victory,” his voice was smooth and sexy, soft and yet firm.

“Want a trophy?”

“How about instead you take a walk with me?” he asked.

“I get the feeling you only want my lighter, but I’m feeling frisky- so why not,” I sat up, preparing to stand and leave with the guy I didn’t know. “But I might need your name so that my friend can look for me if I disappear.”

“Spencer,” he held out a hand to help me up. “Spencer Phillips.”

“Nice to meet you Spencer,” I shook the hand that I currently held. “I’m Avery Bradfield.”

“Shall we take that walk Avery?”

“Sure,” I nodded. “But if you want the lighter, you had better be on your best behavior”

“Always,” he grinned.

As we walked off, I looked back at Colby and saw the grin that was spread wide across her face. Finally, a guy had talked to me. It was a thought that made my head spin as we left the backyard and headed towards the sidewalk. The hot guy was talking to me. That never happened.

Chapter 3

Shut the hell up!

My mind was shouting the words, but so far I’d managed to keep them from slipping through my lips.

I was standing at the side of one of my tables, listening as a current customer chatted about the long lines at one of the grocery stores nearby. She was very upset. Apparently she’d had to wait for almost half an hour to purchase a birthday cake for her daughter’s party earlier that day.

In all the times I’d dealt with heartbreak I’d learned that being around others was the hardest part. As physically overwhelming as the pain and agony were when I was home alone, the knowledge that no one else gave a damn about what went through my head was twice as hard. Even as I nodded along and listened to her story, I wondered what made the human race such an inherently selfish species. Why did everyone think that others wanted to hear about their lives and problems without ever been considered as having their own?

“I almost didn’t make it home before the guests arrived!” her voice was shrill, leaving me with a radical desire to poke at my ears with the fork she was currently holding. “That would have been a catastrophe,” obviously failing to realize that my simple nod wasn’t interest, her overdramatic plot continued. “Do they not realize that we have lives? That we don’t want to stand in line for hours so that they don’t have to pay more employees to run their registers?”

I watched as her husband shook his head, agreeing with her silently and letting her continue to rant. His patience was admirable, but his lack of empathy for the poor waitress neither of them knew made me a little angry. I wanted to ask her if she didn’t realize that I didn’t want to hear her sob story. The words were on the tip of my tongue. But I held them back.

As she continued to recount the details, down to the story about the lady in front of her with at least a month’s worth of food and all she needed to do was pay for a cake- I only wanted her to be quiet. I had a massive headache- likely because I’d spent two days crying, drinking and not eating - and the foggy feeling in my mind made it damn near impossible to keep up with the details of her drama.

Mostly, I just didn’t want to have to deal with anyone. I was there. Working like I was supposed to be. But life was more about existence. I was in a fog and trying to get through the day. Survival. That’s what I had to focus on. Unfortunately, that meant listening to drivel from people I didn’t know.

“Uh-huh,” I nodded for the tenth time, planning my escape route as she prepared her lips to continue. “I think I have an order up in the window,” I threw out before she could say anything else and slipped away from the table. The relief washed over me, but I knew it would be short lived.

I didn’t dislike my job. Being a waitress wasn’t always bad. I made good money for the most part. And typically I was upbeat and happy. That made customers like me and I enjoyed them and their chatter. I spent a lot of the slow days bantering with people I didn’t know. It made life a little less dull.

But it wasn’t a typical day. I was nowhere near able to handle the idle chit chat that my customers needed and wanted. The pain deep in my gut was constantly eating away at me. It came out as anger and irritation at anyone else. I was grouchy and bitchy and I damn well knew it.

I’d almost called in sick. Almost. The loud and obnoxious sound of the alarm had startled me from one of the good dreams I was having- a fact that landed it against the far wall of my room- and I’d debated calling in and spending my day dozing in and out of slumber again and trying to find moments of hope in the despondency.

The only thing that had held me back was the impending slew of bills that I was now responsible for on my own. Even as slow as I knew it could be, I knew that I’d make a decent amount of money- and it was sorely needed.

But it meant people.

There was a dining room full of random people and their chatter about nonsense. My whole world had collapsed and I’m supposed to stand, nod and smile at someone’s worry that the cake might arrive after the guests. I had the same problem with friends. I was expected to live up to the person that they wanted me to be. But I was unraveling a little at a time and their petty problems didn’t even begin to register on my scale.

I couldn’t count the number of times I’d wanted to tell them to shut up when I felt like this. Every time he had left I was forced to exist in a world that I didn’t want to be in. I had to smile and pretend I cared about anything except the gaping hole inside of me. I would find myself avoiding people. Staying away from them.

I wondered how people coped with it. I couldn’t understand how anyone could deal with life altering situations and still cope as if it was all in a normal day. I hadn’t been able to master that skill. I struggled with everything when I was falling apart. Working. Socializing. Keeping up with obligations. There were days that remembering to shower and change clothes took all of the effort that I had.

Lucky for me there were no children or pets to tend to. They probably wouldn’t make it.

Once when Spencer had departed out of the blue I had been working in an office. It was dark and dreary and made me feel claustrophobic. Only three other people worked there and they had separate spaces so I spent my days in silence doing menial tasks. It was a temporary job and paid well, so I’d kept it.

When he took off, I was grateful for that job. No one bothered me. If I felt like crying while I worked, I could do that. Mostly, I could hide there and never have to answer questions or pretend I cared about conversation.

I’d been glad when that assignment was over and I’d moved on to the public side of life. I wanted people. But as I stood there and looked at the clock I realized I still had three hours left of my shift. That made me long for the comfort and quiet of that lonely office.

“Avery,” the deep voice startled me as I stood at the pick-up window, waiting on an order and avoiding the people sitting at my tables. “Everything good?”

Dominic was a stern boss, but a caring one. He’d always made me feel like I mattered and I appreciated that. Nice as he was though, I still had very little desire to communicate. Besides, the reality was that people only asked out of habit. Even my closest friends didn’t want an honest answer.

I couldn’t imagine his reaction if I’d told him the truth.

‘ No Dominic it isn’t. Spencer left me again while I was off. He didn’t even say goodbye. I feel like everything in my world is gone and there’s nothing left. It’s as if the sunshine has been removed and all I can ever hope for is a gray and depressing sky. I don’t know how I’m going to exist from minute to minute. People want me to chat and be normal, but I’m not even sure what that is anymore. There are moments when I don’t really even want to try and if I had the money for the bills I’d probably curl into the fetal position in my bed and cry until I just withered away into the nothing I feel like.’

Right. Because that is what someone wanted to hear. The truth was that people weren’t equipped for honesty. There were no simple answers that would solve the situation and so they just didn’t bother.

“Yep,” lying had become second nature in my world by necessity.

“Need a break?” somehow the plump little Greek man had seen through my less than honest answer. He didn’t know the full truth, but he knew something was wrong. And that kind of pissed me off. “We are slow.” He added as if that made up for him believing I couldn’t handle working.

I wanted to refuse. My stubborn nature didn’t want anyone to think something could make me weak. I almost said no.

Almost.

He was offering me a chance to get away from the cake lady and her silently patient husband and I needed that more than I needed to feed my ego. So I nodded a yes and he instructed another server to take my tables.

Grabbing a pack of cigarettes and glass of soda, I slipped through the kitchen and out the back door. The new no smoking anywhere inside the building rules had left us with nothing but the alleyway for a break room. At that moment, it was perfect. No one would be there besides me and that was what I needed most.

Silence. Time to sulk and hurt. A moment of peace without any expectation of me.