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“Well, it’s been really fun…” I lied as I caught Toddy’s hand. “But we have to go. Tomorrow is a school day.”
What I hadn’t planned for was for Tide to follow us out to ‘make sure that we got into my truck okay’ or for my truck to not start.
Well, to be honest, the truck starting thing was something that wasn’t as surprising as it was a couple of days ago when the starter began to act up.
I’d ordered the part a few days ago but hadn’t had the chance to replace it yet. And now, that was coming back to bite me in the ass.
Especially when there was Tide, standing at the bar’s doors, laughing at my predicament.
“I hate him,” I muttered darkly.
“You like him,” Toddy disagreed. “You’re just trying to tell yourself that you hate him.”
I shook my head. “I can’t tell you how many times Tide embarrassed the absolute crap out of me when we were younger. Not to mention, he thinks that girls can’t do things boys can do.”
The embarrassment of having him tell someone that I couldn’t do something just because I was a girl was real. He’d done that to me multiple times.
Honestly, he was the reason I’d gone to school to become a welder, because he gave me so much shit in high school during welding class that I wanted to prove him wrong.
Now, I had a degree in welding. I made forty-two dollars an hour, and I had no student loans. Oh, and I worked four days a week.
Meanwhile, Tide had student loans, made twice as much as me an hour, but also had to work his ass off to make it.
Who had the better career?
“You need a ride home?” Tide teased.
I flinched at the sound of his voice so close. I hadn’t seen him leave the bar’s entryway.
As for his question? I’d rather gargle with glass than admit that I did.
But I’d walk before I said yes.
“No,” I lied.
“It doesn’t look like you don’t,” he mused. “Unless you have a starter handy.”
The fucker. He was right, of course. But there were a thousand people in this town I’d ask for a ride from before him. Like the slimy toad that tried to sell old ladies sports cars when he knew they couldn’t handle them.
“You’re on a date,” I tried.
“I’m not on a date. I just agreed to meet for a drink after work,” he corrected me. “I didn’t agree to anything more than that.”
I ground my teeth at the relief his words caused me. Then, to cover up my immediate relief, I said, “You ride a motorcycle. And there’s Toddy and me. Plus, she’s an Olympic hopeful. Getting on the back of your bike would be the worst idea ever.”
Tide’s eyes flicked to Toddy, then back to me, assessing my words.
“I’ll just go sit inside and wait for Dad to get done.” Toddy headed toward the door, abandoning me like only a little sister could. “Plus, tomorrow is a half day anyway. We won’t accomplish shit, and this way I might be able to talk Gareth into more ice cream.”
With that parting comment, Toddy was back inside and leaving me alone with Tide.
“You coming?” he asked, waiting until Toddy was completely inside before he asked.
I would rather die.
He must’ve read that on my face, because he grinned and then started bawking at me like a chicken.
“Come on,” he teased. “You know that you want to.”
I would really rather die than get on the back of that bike.
But I would not die a chicken. And I definitely wouldn’t die a chicken anywhere near Tide Crow.
“Fine,” I grumbled as I pulled out my phone and texted my dad the new plans. “But don’t go fast. I don’t want to die on the back of your death machine.”
Nor did I want to touch him any more than necessary.
He chuckled as he walked with me toward his bike.
Every step I took felt like I was dragging my feet. Which he noticed.
“Why are y’all all here at a bar, anyway?” he asked curiously. “Probably not a usual place for an eleven-year-old.”
Small talk. Blech.
Yet, for some reason, I found myself answering him anyway.
“Two years ago, Dad bought into this bar,” I explained. “He now owns the mechanic shop. The vitamin shop. That stupid loaded tea shop that barely does any business, and he can rarely find anyone to keep open for him. Then there’s the bar. Followed by the laundromat, as well as a few rental apartments and duplexes.”
Word vomit. Yay. Something I excelled at.
He looked at me curiously, and even in the almost dusk, with the light in the parking lot low, I could still make out his sparkling eyes.
I’d always hated those eyes.
They were brown. Boring and blah.
However, both of his eyes had what appeared to be a bright, hulk green ring around the very center of the pupil. Making them boring and brown with just a hint of uniqueness that only the ones really close to him could see.
