Page 27 of Homesick
“I don’t buy it,” he challenges.
For some reason, I find myself responding to his abrasiveness. Goosebumps start to prickle up my skin and I can feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I swallow hard before responding. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not having a heart to heart with you. I barely know you anymore.”
Those last five words stifle the fire in Blake’s eyes. He takes a step back, almost as if he finally sees the steel wall standing between the two of us. I feel my heart slump over from the heaviness weighing it down. I could have easily played into his hand, but the aftermath was just too uncertain to trust at this moment.
I use the silence between us as my chance to exit. “Umm, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
I speed walk toward the house and try to block out everything he just said. Even if he’s right, I can’t change the past. He should know that better than anyone.
CHAPTER 10
I was avoiding Blake. After our little tiff last week, I’d finish my chores up as quickly as possible and leave about ten minutes before his truck came ripping down the driveway. It wasn’t the most mature approach, but he had a way of breaking down my walls and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it.
There was also the issue of not being sure whether I wanted to scream at him or rip his clothes off. Or maybe even both? Either way, I thought it was best to remove myself from the equation completely. I could be amicable, but only from a distance.
I’m currently at my first job, taking advantage of how dead the bar is. I was able to teach myself how to update the Rustic Inn’s website and it was coming along well. I still have a lot to learn, but it looks better than it did when I first started. The owner loved the new logo I created and there was even a discussion about getting new signage for outside the building.
I loved the giddy feeling of seeing Sheila’s face light up while she was scrolling through the Rustic Inn’s social media pages. I think she was being nice, but she mentioned something about more out-of-towners coming into the bar on the weekends. Being the only bar in town, the Rustic Inn was already busy on the weekends, but the key was to attract more customers from outside the immediate area.
I wasn’t able to notice the difference in volume of business, but I did see the difference on social. I just launched the Rustic Inn’s Instagram a few weeks ago and we had accumulated almost two thousand followers. My goal by the end of the summer is to double that amount and it seems doable at the rate I’m going.
“Ah, come on,” I grumble as the landing page I’m working on for the website glitches. The bad part about working on stuff at the bar is the crappy wi-fi. I usually had to do most of this stuff at home when I had free time.
As I’m waiting for the new updates to populate, I hear the bell ring. I close my laptop and shove it in a safe place behind the bar. I look up and see a guy around my age, who looks familiar, but I can’t quite place him. He’s a standard looking guy with short, dirty blonde hair and light brown eyes. I would call him attractive, but I’ve been questioning my taste in men these last few weeks.
“Hey,” he says with a smile. He has good teeth, which is semi-rare in Honey Grove. A lot of the men around here chew tobacco and you can spot the tiny black specks that litter their teeth from the nasty habit.
“Hi there! What can I do for you?”
He looks disappointed in my answer, and I get another gnawing feeling that I’m supposed to know who this is. Soon enough, he answers my question and says, “this is embarrassing. You don’t remember me, do you?”
“No, I don’t. Do you mind giving me a little refresher?” I offer with my most sympathetic smile. I hated when people didn’t remember me, so I can imagine how he’s feeling right now.
“Well, we actually danced,” he pauses for a moment and takes a few steps back to where the dance floor usually sits on the weekend. “Here,” he finishes with a smile. “You disappeared afterwards though so I didn’t get a chance to get your number. I didn’t know you were working here. I would’ve come in a lot sooner.”
I finally place him after thinking back to my first night home. I vividly remember trying to make Blake jealous but ended up going home with him anyway.
“Ah yes! Now I remember. Umm . . .”
“It’s Adam.”
“That’s exactly what I was about to say.”
He smiles and shakes his head at my cocky response.
“So, Wren,” Adam says as he grabs a seat at the bar. “How long are you planning on sticking around? I thought you moved away after college.”
“Geez, you sure seem to know a lot about me,” I say with a flirty tone. It feels good to be flirting with someone who isn’t my ex.
“I always thought you were hot in high school, but you were with Blake Fisher.”
Hot? I’ll take it.
“Right,” I smile at his attempted compliment. “Well, did you want to order something or . . .?”
“Oh, I have a pick-up order,” he says in a cool tone. “But I wouldn’t mind taking you out some time,” he continues, attempting to be smooth.
As soon as he asks that question, Blake’s face pops into my mind. I shake my head in an effort to scrub his image from my head and refocus on Adam. Emma had suggested the best way to get over my attraction to Blake was to get under someone new, but something was stopping me from saying yes. I didn’t know Adam that well, but I didn’t want to go out with him when I have conflicting feelings about my ex. I also didn’t want any more unnecessary attachments to Honey Grove. It was best to stay clear of men for now.
