Page 83 of Saints & Sailors

“Maybe.” Dreux’s smile let me know he was teasing.

“Sometimes, I write stuff. A song or something. It’s probably super emo garbage, but I don’t know.” I ducked my head, feeling lame.

“All music is emo, especially the good stuff,” Dreux reassured. “If there’s no emotion in your music, then it’s not worth listening to.”

Of course he knew just what to say. I snuck a peek at him. “Thanks.”

“When you’re ready and comfortable, I’d like to read or listen,” he offered.

My anxiety dissipated and I leaned into him and rested my head on his shoulder. My heart just about stopped when he wrapped an arm around me. Unable to process why this felt good.

Taylor was still singing, talking about being down bad, and it made me think of Cameron. I hoped this night could lift her spirits and she wouldn’t regret her decision to leave Aidan. Because fuck that asshole.

Dreux’s hand captured mine. He ran his finger over the anchor tattoo on my middle finger, causing me to shiver. He was smiling when I looked up at him and I wondered if he knew the effect he had on me.

“So fitting,” he mused.

He didn’t let my hand go. And for some reason, I didn’t want him to.

“I also have a compass and quote on my side,” I mentioned.

Dreux glanced down at me, a brow raised. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It pays to have friends of age,” I joked. And then I admired his light brown skin and how it was smooth and empty. How despite being muscular, his hand was incredibly soft. “You ever think about it?”

Dreux gazed out at the sky, appearing thoughtful. “I sort of like that look where people have little doodles here and there on their arms, but I know my mom would kill me.”

My own mother just about had a heart attack when she discovered my tattoos. I didn’t doubt Angela would, in fact, freak out if Dreux went under the needle. Although, I’d argue he was probably nearly eighteen.

“Not to sound like a broken record, but thank you for being nice Monday when I lost my shit,” I brought up. “I realize I’ve got a lot of issues, and going forward I have to learn to let them go.”

Dreux was quiet for a beat, not rushing to say anything. He thought over my words and carefully responded. “Can I ask why you’re angry?”

“I don’t really have the answer. I think it started with my grandparents not liking me, and my father not being around. I guess I felt like the world was against me.”

“And now?” Dreux wanted to know.

Now I knew Scott’s side of things, and how sorry he was for walking away. It wasn’t my fault, and slowly but surely, I was learning the truth in that. “I think I’m coming down from it.”

He squeezed my shoulder. “Good.”

A soft click had me sitting up and looking over to catch Angela coming outside. She had a glass of what looked like lemonade in her hand. One look at me and she halted, disapproval instant.

“Hi,” I spoke up, giving a small wave.

After a week at the shop, she was tolerant of me more than anything, but there was no denying she wasn’t fond of my friendship with Dreux. It was evident as she stood there measuring how close we were sitting, where Dreux’s arm was still around me, and I was leaning into him.

“Hi,” Angela responded, clipped and formal. She came and handed Dreux the lemonade, which looked refreshing with its ice cubes and condensation-covered glass. “Lemonade?”

It was a nice gesture. Hospitable even. “No, but thank you, though.”

Angela turned, prepared to go back inside, but not without eyeing the two of us again. “Well, let me know if you’d like anything.”

I nodded my head vigorously, noting Dreux was trying not to crack up beside me. “Will do.” Once she was gone back into the house, and I was sure the coast was clear, I elbowed him.

Dreux laughed, leaning over and holding his side. And damn him for being so handsome and carefree I couldn’t stay mad at him. “I’m sorry, but you should see yourself when she’s around.”

He said it like Angela wasn’t intimidating. “Does she like any girl around you?”