Wednesday (6 page)

The next moments were a tangle of yelling
and grabbing and crying. And then Tris turned on me.

“It’s like my dad said,” he told
me. “You are just like
her
.”

Like his mother. The most selfish
person in the world. The person who hurt him so deeply.

“You deserve whatever you get,
Aria,” he said, walking away. “Just remember that.”

Yes, I destroyed that boy. And he
turned around and did the same back to me.

I hated him for it.

Still do.

I have turned into
a fucking pussy overnight. I can’t eat, can’t sleep, hell, I can’t even shower
without jerking off to the thought of Aria Prince, or Anders, or whatever the
fuck her name is now.

I can’t get rid of the image of
those pert nipples under her shirt, that amazing ass that looked edible in her
yoga pants and running shorts, those chocolate brown eyes, that full mouth…

Shit, this has to stop. That
goddamn full mouth did nothing but wreck me then and insult me now. Though I
know what this is. A simple case of wanting what you can’t have. Being told
no
. 
Something that doesn’t sit well with me anymore.

Question is, what to do about it?

I hate her. I want her.

I’ll just find some way to have
her.

That’s the bottom line. Get her
under me and out of my system as quick as possible and move on with my life.
And yet, I’m stuck here in Gulf Bay for the foreseeable future. So is she. I’m
not involved with anyone. Neither is she. I don’t want a commitment, and from her
tone last night, neither does she. And the clincher…

We both have Wednesdays free.

My brain works its magic and I know
what I have to do.

Now I just need to wait six more
days.

***

 Turns out, I don’t have to wait
that long at all. On my way home from Dad’s shop, I catch Aria on her way into
the ice cream shop. And she’s alone. What are the chances?

I park my bike and follow her in.
The bell chimes when I open the door.

Aria doesn’t look back, but she’s
tense. She knows I’m here.

“How’s the foot?” I ask, closing in
on her personal space from behind.

“Fine.” She takes a step forward.
“How’s the death trap you rode in on?”

She did see me pull in. Heh.

“It’s not so much a death trap as a
death seeker,” I say.

Aria always hated motorcycles with
a passion, one of the reasons I didn’t buy one in high school and possibly why
it was the very first thing I bought when she left town.

 She rolls her eyes at me, but her
cheeks are flushed. This is the perfect time to talk to her about my idea.

“Hey, you know –” I start, only to
be cut short by the little dirt bomb again. Jesus, he’s filthy.

“I want ice cream,” he squeaks,
barging in right between us.

“What on earth?” she says, but I
miss the rest, because pulling up right behind him is – fuck me – Serena.

Well, this plan is going to shit in
a hurry.  

“Hey buddy.” I bend down to Cade’s
level, not meeting Serena’s eyes but definitely feeling the daggers she’s shooting
at me. “What flavor are you getting?” I’ve never really been a fan of kids, not
sure why, but in this moment, I’d rather talk to the three-foot twerp than
acknowledge his grabby aunt.

When I first moved back in with
Dad, I made the mistake of being friendly with Serena – in a completely kid
sister sorta way – but she misread the signs. Big time. I can’t even think
about the mess that followed.

“Banilla,” Cade says, bringing me
back to the current uncomfortable situation.

“Banilla?” I ask. Geez, no
imagination with today’s youth. “Well, that’s boring.”

“Maybe we like boring,” Aria snaps
at me.

“Yeah,” Serena agrees before
looking away. There’s no way she told Aria what happened, so when I level a
look her way, she quickly changes her tune. “What does he know?” she jokes to
Cade.  

Jesus H.

“I highly doubt that you
like
boring,”
I say to Aria before turning my attention on the kid again. “Look at all the
choices. What about bubble gum? It’s like two treats in one.” Without thinking,
I lift him up to show him.

The little dude hasn’t picked up
any of his mother’s prickly tendencies. He practically jumps into my arms.

“I can’t get bubble gum,” the kid
says.

“Why not?”

“It’s pink.” He looks at me like
I’m a complete moron.

“So?” I say.

“So, that’s a girl’s color.”

“Says who?” I continue.

“Everyone,” he replies.

“Well, that’s a load of crap,” I
say.

Aria clears her throat, and Serena
shoots another stink eye in my direction.

“I mean, that’s not so. Colors
aren’t for boys or girls, they’re for everyone. Plus, some of the best flavors
are pink. Raspberry, strawberry, cherry nut. On Saturdays they even have cotton
candy. Come down and I’ll buy you a cone.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t
keep, Tristan,” Aria scolds.  “He’s very literal and gets attached easily.”

“If you recall,” I fight back, “I’m
not the one who breaks promises.”

And then, as if to prove my point,
I touch her. Two fingers take the same path from her shoulder to her wrist as
they had our one night together. I squeeze her small shaking hand in mine.

“I’ll see you again, little man,” I
tell Cade, appreciating his distraction from the ladies. He might not be so bad
after all. And to his mother, I whisper in her ear, “I’ll definitely be seeing
you.”

She stumbles away from me so
quickly it’s comical.

“And that’s a promise,” I say as I
head for the door with my scoop of rocky road. I have the feeling it’s going to
be a rocky one indeed.

For the next few
days, I’m able to avoid Tristan. Still, I feel him every night I go to sleep.
The way his hands make my skin sing. The way his eyes rake over my body,
bringing every nerve ending to the surface with a buzz. The way his anger seems
to melt when he’s close.

My body’s in constant battle with
my brain, which distinctly remembers that I’m supposed to hate him.

Thankfully, the daytime is easier.
Working at the restaurant, taking care of Caden, and preparing for school keeps
my mind busy and it doesn’t take long to settle into a routine. Most importantly,
my son is at home here.

It’s made me think about what my
little guy was missing by being away from his family. We followed Alex thousands
of miles and saw him so little. Part of me wishes he’d served those divorce
papers sooner. Maybe then I could’ve pulled my head out of my ass.

Still, I’ll never be free. Alex
will always be Cade’s father, shitty one that he is.  

“Aria,” Mom calls, snapping me out
of my reverie. “Hurry up there. The lunch rush will be starting soon.”

I’m a little rusty working at the
diner – particularly apparent as I try to help Jimmy prep in the kitchen. I
chop veggies while the big hulk of a man gently and cautiously prepares his
famous soups. It’s quite adorable. Today, he’s whipping up gazpacho. My
absolute favorite.

“You haven’t changed a bit, Ari.”
Jimmy takes my knife from me, showing me the proper way to hold it. “Your
chopping technique still stinks.”

Jimmy’s taught me most everything
back here. Other than Mom, of course. When we were little and Mom was off doing
the books and serving out front, it was Jimmy who would entertain us back here.
It was just him and his wife, Kate. They never had children, so he kind of
adopted us. His wife died of breast cancer two years ago. It hurts I wasn’t
here for him during that time.

So even though I hate – absolutely
detest – being told what to do, I let him show me the proper way to wield a
knife. Though if I haven’t mastered it yet, I think it’s a lost cause.

“Grasp the blade firmly between your
thumb and the knuckle of your index finger, curling your other fingers around
the handle. Don’t put your finger along the spine of the knife, because it
removes all control.”

It does work better, and I’m flying
through the chopping. Too bad the technique isn’t going to stick. My hands have
their own way of doing things and I can’t change now.  I finish up my last
carrot when Serena comes in with Cade and the boys. I’m so excited to see him, the
knife slips from my hand.

 So, I reach out for it and Jimmy
lunges for me.

“Aria, you never, never grab a
falling knife,” he says.  “Especially these knives. You’d get a nasty injury
and your mom would kill me.”

“Sorry, sorry,” I tell him. “I know
better. I promise I will get back into the swing of this place soon.”

“It’s okay,” Jimmy says. “We all
have a natural instinct to grab for anything that’s falling. You just need to
overcome it.”

Jimmy the chef and philosopher.  

“You okay, Mommy?” Cade asks.

“I am now that you’re here.” I
tackle him for a hug. “How’s it going?”

“I’m sorry,” Serena says. “We
shouldn’t have snuck up on you, but Cade really wanted to see his mama.”

I give her a squeeze next, and by
her doe-eyed expression I can tell I’ve taken her by surprise. Serena takes
such good care of Cade while I work at the restaurant. She signed up for
playtimes, music classes, and tennis of all things. She may not think the most
of me, but Cade? She’s in love and will make sure he has the best.

Things between the two of us are
getting better though. We actually laugh and have meals together sometimes.
It’s like we’re getting to be real sisters again, and the dreaded competition
between us seems to have faded. Maybe because she finally realizes that I’m not
perfect. She was so mad when I left with Alex. Then again, she’s always hated
competing for attention.

Serena and I have always been so
different – she’s all about sports and the outdoors with a
no apologies
approach to life. I was always more girly; particular and fussy; never quite
feeling understood, which made me defensive at times. Serena was always the
stronger one, she just never knew it. Since I’ve been back though, I see a big
change. She’s settling into her own and it’s satisfying to see her in action –
her work as a nanny, her education, the way she helps Mom manage the business
side of the diner. Right now, Serena’s kicked off a social media plan to
improve business.

“How’s he doing?” I ask when Jimmy
distracts the boys with an enormous bowl of whipping cream he made for the
pies. 

“It’s going great,” she says. “No
need to worry. He’s doing just fine. We’re having grilled cheese at Jack and
Philly’s after this and then going down to the beach to gather rocks for our
art project.”

“Art project? Sounds impressive.”

“You just wait until you see our
daily –” Serena stops talking mid-sentence, staring over my shoulder with pure
delight.

I turn around and follow the path
of her gaze.

“What are you looking at?” I ask.

“Shhh,” she says, watching as Mom
comes into the kitchen.

Mom and Jimmy take turns feeding
the kids. It’s so endearing, I almost tear up. But then, for the briefest
moment, Jimmy slides his hand on the small of Mom’s back. It’s there and gone
before I can blink. 

Serena grins. “He’s getting bolder.
Won’t be long now.”

“Long for what?” I ask. “What have
I missed?”

“Jimmy sports a hard one for Mom.”
She giggles.

“Eww.” I shake off the disturbing
image.

Serena does a little dance, clearly
proud of herself.

 “What’s that now?” I ask once I
regain my composure. “Jimmy wants Mom? Are you sure?”

“You saw it yourself.”

“Does Mom know?”

“The lady’s clueless.” Serena
shakes her head.

“Do you think she’d be interested?”
I ask.

“Definitely. It’s Jimmy. He’s
great, plus I’m pretty sure he’s packing.” She wiggles her brows.

“You’re gross,” I tell her.

“Just honest.” She shrugs.

I shake my head at my crude sister.
I had no idea she had turned into such a pig. I’ve missed her so much.

“Should we tell her?” I ask.

“Not yet,” she says knowingly.
“Some things you just need to find out on your own.”

I want to pry some more but the
pace is picking up and I still have a list of things to get done.  Serena
gathers the boys, and before I know it, the lunch crowd files in.

“Order up,” Mom says when I get out
on the floor. “Table eleven.”

Great, it’s the tennis girls. I
went to high school with them, though they were a few years younger than me.

Yay, looks like everyone is back in
town for the summer.

And right in the center of the
group is Lissa. Alex’s ex. She was the girl he dumped right before he decided
to take me to the prom. Her sour-lemon face tells me she hasn’t forgotten.

“Hi, ladies,” I say when I reach
the table. “Cobb salads all the way around?”

They nod and continue their
conversation. Some things never change. I pass the salads starting from the
left, but when I land on Lissa’s place setting, she grabs my wrist.

“No, no, no,” she whines. “I said
no avocado.”

This isn’t my table. I’m just
running the food today to help out, so I check the ticket.

“Oh, sorry,” I say. “It isn’t noted
here, but I’m happy to get you a new one.”

“Do you think I’m lying?” She leans
forward, her mouth still puckered.

“No, of course not. Just a simple
mistake, I’m sure.”

“Yes, you know all about those,
right?”

The other girls shift in their
seats, clearly uncomfortable. Everyone knows of Lissa’s temper; it is legendary.
Back in the day, I could handle her with ease and was able to deliver a tongue
lashing that shut her up for days. But I couldn’t exactly do that here, plus I
was no longer in my element.