Infatuated (17 page)

“I don’t care. I’m sick of him.” I tried pushing past her, but Maxine was as immovable as Kale. She may have been small, but she packed a lot of muscle. “You hear that? I’m sick of you!”

“Ally, stop and sit. You’re shaking.”

I stopped moving only because I had no other choice. My chest rose and fell as I watched Earl get in his truck and drive away. “I’m fine, I’m fine. It’s anger. All anger.” For him. For Kale. For myself.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why?” I snapped. “Why does he get to make my life miserable but I can’t say two words to him?”

“Because he’s obviously not right in the head, Ally. You don’t know what he’ll do.”

“I don’t care!”

Maxine didn’t even blink. “Yes, you do.”

I stayed quiet, breathing heavy, until the worst of the anger faded, until I could see her point and agree. But even agreeing with it, I was tired of Earl. I was tired of being watched, unable to do anything but hide. Closing my eyes, I let out a loud breath. “Why don’t you ever yell back at me?”

“Because I was too shocked to. I’m supposed to be the one with the short temper. You’re supposed to be the mild mannered one who gets creepily friendly when she’s pissed.” She let out a harsh breath. “You scared me shitless, you fool. Running after a crazy person like that.”

“I would have.”

Her laugh was high-pitched, almost manic. “I believe that. God, I’ve never seen you so angry. Well, I have, but only once and I really deserved I for that party. Hell, Als, even then you gave off warning signals. This time you went from sweet to evil in a split second.” Her head shook. “I don’t know about you, but I’m seriously thinking skipping class today is for the best. We need a girl’s day.”

I almost said no, out of habit more than anything else. But she was right. I couldn’t go to class like this. “You know what? Let’s do it.”

After my morning and now this, I needed a girl’s day.

G
irl’s day ended up being just what I needed to relax.

Because my knee was still aching and swollen, Max rented a few movies and we stayed at my apartment, eating popcorn until we thought our stomach would bursts. At eight, when Max got ready to leave, the phone Kale bought me rang. It was Kale. I planned to ignore it and call him back later, but Max snatched it out of my hands and answered instead. I only heard her side of the conversation.

“Hello?” A pause. “Maxine, Ally’s best friend. Who’s this? Kale, huh?” She rolled her eyes. “Yes, she’s here, but I don’t think she wants to talk to you right now.” Another pause, this one a longer. “Yes, I’ll have her call you. Okay, you too. Bye!” She tossed the phone to the table. “Hate to say it, but he sounds miserable.”

“Good.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“No,” I said, sighing. “I don’t.”

“Look, I get why you’re mad at him, but—”

I glared at her.

“Don’t even think about lashing out at me, cause I
will
kick your ass. I think we both know I can, because I’ve done it before, so just sit there and sulk if you want to.” When I didn’t respond—verbally, because she ignored the death glares—she added, “I know why you’re mad and you have every right to be. But don’t break things off because he made a macho, stupid mistake. You’ve got a good guy there, Als.”

Arms crossed over my chest, I said, “May I speak now?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, you may speak now,” she said, using the same snide tone I’d used.

“I never said I was breaking up with him, if that’s even possible to do when you aren’t a formal couple.”

“That’s all I wanted to say then. Except now I need to go to the gym and work off those three bags of popcorn you made us share.”

“You loved it.”

“Every single bite. And now I’m going to go hate them for the three miles it’s gonna take to keep them from going straight to my ass.”

I snorted. “You could use more of an ass, if you ask me.”

“Not three bags worth, I don’t.” She leaned down and gave me a big hug. “Call if you need another Girl’s Day?”

“I will. Thanks, Max. Drive safe, okay?”

“Thanks, Mother Hen. Take it easy on the knee.”

I smirked. “Yes, Mother Hen.”

She gathered her stuff and headed for the door. “You’re a pain.”

“In your bony ass, I know. You tell me at least twice a week.”

She pulled the door open, wiggling that bony ass at me. “It’s gonna be three times this week. Night, chica,” she said, then left.

Five minutes hadn’t passed before my phone—the one recently taken from Kale’s possession—rang. I almost answered it but caught myself. I ignored the first call, and the nine others that came directly after it in a ten-minute period. Tired of hearing it ring, I turned it off and shoved it in the knife drawer in the kitchen. It went there because I debated stabbing the hell out of it first.

Kale’s idea that the caller would stop calling if I wasn’t the one to answer had obviously not worked, so before I went in for my shift tomorrow, I planned to stop at the cell phone place and change my number. “See how you like it when you can’t get through, fucker,” I said as I slammed the drawer shut.

When the Kale-bought cell phone beeped with an incoming text message a few minutes later, I growled. The message ended up being from Kale.

I’m sorry. Sleep well, Ally Cat.

It did nothing to sooth my nerves or bad mood. If anything it only pissed me off more, so I shoved it in the knife drawer with the other phone.

CHAPTER 13

I
didn’t talk to Kale for two days. To say things were strained would have been a major understatement. He showed up the next night after work to walk me home, but I didn’t invite him in and he didn’t ask to stay. I thanked him and he was on his way. I appreciated him walking me home—and I told him as much—but I wasn’t ready to talk to him yet. Especially after yesterday.

Over half a dozen times at work, I picked up my phone to text him, to tell him we needed to talk, but I didn’t want to start a conversation that way. And when I couldn’t figure out any other way to say it, I put the phone aside.

I was mad at him.

I missed him.

I’m insane.

Just as I picked it up again, deciding that even a simple text with ‘hi’ was better than nothing, Earl walked in and I nearly dropped the phone. I was at the far end of the bar, away from the door, yet he still managed to pinpoint my position in under two seconds. Eyes on me, he strolled to his normal seat, sat, and stared.

My blood boiled. The fact he’d come in after I yelled at him, had my fists clenching.

Laura was busy zipping around, cleaning tables and taking orders. When she was done, she came back to the bar. “I’m filling these and then I’m out of here.”

My skin went clammy. “What?”

“Jack called in sick for the afternoon shift, so I’ve been here since opening. It’s been a rush all damn day and my feet are killing me.” She cast a dark glare at the customers. “You’d think we were the only bar in town.”

“But—”

“Sorry, hon. I know you weren’t supposed to close by yourself. Didn’t Dave call you? He said he would.”

“No, he didn’t.” If he had, I probably would have called out. And that was probably why he hadn’t.

“You’ve closed by yourself before. You’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry about anything. Just close the till, make sure the doors are locked, set the alarm, and walk out.” She smiled vindictively. “Jack and Dave will pick up the slack in the morning.”

Before I could argue or comment or curse, she was filling her last orders and walking away.

The first night I closed alone—a week after I started—was the first night I’d noticed Earl. Or rather, it was the first night I’d noticed him staring. It was bad enough to deal with when someone else worked with me, so how the hell was I supposed to do it alone?

Within five minutes, Laura was gone, and I was somehow surrounded by at least twenty people and feeling more alone than I’d felt in weeks. My nerves were shot and I snapped at people for no reason, screwed up more orders than I got right. I prayed Earl would leave.

He didn’t.

Over a dozen times, I debated calling Kale or texting him. But what did I say?
I’m alone at the bar, Earl is here, and I have to be a big girl and close by myself, so can you come over and walk me home, despite the fact we’re fighting?
That’s exactly what I wanted to do, but I didn’t.

I forced myself to relax, as much as I could, by telling myself I was fine. I was in a bar full of people. If I had to, I’d have one of the regulars wait for me while I closed up. There were a few I trusted to do that.

Earl’s eyes followed me wherever I went. My only few moments of reprieve came when someone blocked his view. It never lasted long enough. Usually, we had a lot of chatters come in, the types who, when you delivered their drinks, wanted a conversation with it. None of these people did. Everyone was perfectly content with what they were doing or who they were talking to.

The only other time I felt remotely comfortable was when I was behind the bar. Where I could hide, if only a little. It was something at least, something between him and me, and until he left, it was all I had.

An hour to closing, Earl got up from his seat. He was leaving. Finally! That was the first thing I thought. Then I realized he wasn’t leaving. He was coming up to the bar. I watched him, step by step, as he approached, wishing I could run or hide. I didn’t bother to hide my glare.

“Rum and coke.”

I tore my eyes from him and fixed his drink.

“Mine.”

The word made my skin crawl and had the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. I stood frozen, staring and being stared at. My heart knocked painfully hard against my ribs. My hands trembled so bad that the drink almost spilled over. I cleared my throat. “Excuse me?”

His lips raised in a smile. “The drink.”

I couldn’t move.
Stop shaking. Don’t drop it and he’ll be here longer.
The thought didn’t make my hands shake any less, so I sat the glass on the counter and pushed it front of him. He reached for it at the same time and his fingers brushed against mine. I shuddered. He smiled again.

Go away
, I thought.
Just go away now.

He put a ten on the counter to cover the drink (I hadn’t asked and wouldn’t have), and then he moved, but only to the far end of the bar.

Now he wanted to sit there. Now he had to be close, in my personal space. And yes, I was counting the surrounding twenty feet my personal space, and it still wasn’t enough between us.

The one night I wanted time to actually slow down, so I didn’t have to go home alone, it seemed to move ten times faster. The first time I glanced at the clock, the time was a quarter after midnight, and the next time I saw it, it was nearly two.

And Earl still hadn’t left.

The bar closed in ten minutes. That left me with ten minutes until I’d be forced to walk home. Or, I thought, only half-kidding, crash in the bar. The idea appealed to me.

At two, when the last of the stragglers—and Earl—finally left, I ran and closed the doors. Laura’d told me not to bother cleaning, but what else could I do? I swept and mopped, cleaned the windows, wiped down every table and chair. I had the trash ready and was at the back door, hand on the doorknob, when I froze. What if Earl was out there?

I left the trash by the door and gathered my things. I hadn’t let myself look out the windows to see if Earl left or not, because there hadn’t been a point in it. But now I did. I nearly cried when I didn’t see his truck.

I shut off the lights. When I opened the door, I stepped out and took a quick look around. Seeing nothing, I set the alarm and locked the door. I dodged across the street, practically running. With my keys in hand, I took another glance and stepped up to my door. Only once I was inside and the door was bolted did I take a deep breath.
Home
. Where I was safe, secure. Where I could hide from Earl’s gaze.

I rolled my shoulders and neck. My gaze fell to the floor where white pieces of paper lay scattered. Frowning, I bent down to pick them up. Not paper. Pictures. I flipped them over. A few of them showed nothing more than some kind of pink material.