Hearts Collide (Canyon Cove Book 4) (14 page)

“I’m going to get going,” I said.

“This will only be a minute,” he said. “Just be patient.”

“No, I’m running out of time. I need something for tonight. I came here for me, not you.”

“Selfish much?” He turned around and started to look at some other clothing. “They have a women’s section here. Why don’t you look while I’m waiting on my jeans?”

“You know this store doesn’t fit me right,” I said. “It’s like they think women should be built without any curves at all. Plus this place just isn’t me.”

I looked around the store to see if Molly was looking for us, but I didn’t see her.

Where’d she go?

I didn’t know why I stayed in that store. I should have left and gone shopping on my own, but I didn’t. I hated that Dennis knew me so well that he knew I wouldn’t leave.

When Molly came back she threw her hands up and shook her head.

“We’re all out. Do you want me to check another store?” she asked as she returned to the register.

“That would be great,” Dennis said with a smile.

I joined him at the register and tapped my foot impatiently.

Twenty minutes.

I still had enough time to find something, just not as much time as I wanted.

“Oh they have your size at Fashion Plaza,” she said. “Do you want me to put them on hold for you?”

“That’s only ten minutes from here,” Dennis said. “We can make it.”

“No we can’t,” I said. “You can go back out if you want to.”

“On Christmas Eve? By myself?”

He tilted his head to the side like he always did when he wanted me to feel bad, but it didn’t work this time.

“I have a date tonight,” I said, trying to not shriek. “I came here to buy myself something new. I didn’t come here to get you new jeans.”

“Umm excuse me,” Molly said. “I couldn’t help but overhear. I don’t know which store you were going to, but some of the stores are closing early tonight.”

My eyes widened as her words sunk in. I knew my luck and thinking about Torque being closed made me want to wring Dennis’s neck even more.

Without a word, I left the store and continued down towards Torque. I only had ten minutes, but it was enough time to find a few things and buy them. I’d figure everything else out at home.

As I approached the store, I could already see the large glass doors being pulled shut. I stopped and just stared at the store, seeing a few things on the mannequins that would have been perfect.

Fuck! Just my luck.

Dennis stood beside me.

“Oh hey, that sucks,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

After glaring at him I started to walk back towards the parking garage. I was in such a bad mood I just wanted to get out of the mall and get back home. I didn’t have time to race around the mall trying to find open stores for a new outfit.

As I merged onto the freeway, my stomach dropped. Every lane was backed up. Traffic wasn’t going anywhere.

“Guess there was an accident,” Dennis said.

I’m never making it home on time now.

***

Stuck in traffic, I kept looking at the time as I silently counted down when Brent would pick me up for dinner. I wanted to call him and let him know I was running late, but with Dennis sitting next to me I couldn’t. I didn’t want him hearing me on the phone while I spoke to Brent. I’d have to wait until I got home.

I got home with fifteen minutes to spare. I ran into the apartment and took the quickest shower of my life. As much as I didn’t want Dennis there in the beginning, I was a little glad he was there now. He could answer the door when Brent came while I finished getting ready.

As I swept the blush brush onto the apples of my cheeks, I checked my phone. Brent was ten minutes late. I was disappointed but relieved at the same time. If he was late, that meant I wasn’t.

Finally looking at myself in the mirror, I thought I looked pretty good. All that rushing had helped give my skin a nice glow and for whatever reason, my hair was looking really good.

I left my bedroom and found Dennis sitting on the couch, flipping through the channels. He reeked of smoke.

“Were you outside?” I asked.

He groaned. “I told you I don’t smoke in here.”

“No, thats not what I meant. You don’t need to be so defensive.”

“You bring it out in me,” he said.

Please just stop,
I thought.

“I don’t want to fight,” I said. “I was just curious if you went for a walk or something.”

He glanced over at me and then back at the television.

“You didn’t miss him,” he said. “He hasn’t shown up.”

Ouch.

“Oh,” I said. “Okay, thanks.”

“You’d might as well sit down,” he said. “You might be waiting a while.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, trying to keep the anger out of my voice.

“Nothing,” he said with a shrug.

I sat on the couch and waited for Brent to come. I watched as the time ticked by painfully slowly. Why it couldn’t move this slow when I was shopping, I didn't know. Now I wished it would speed up so Brent and I could go out.

I checked my phone for any new texts and any calls I didn’t see come through, but nothing came. Once he was thirty minutes late, I checked the traffic to see if it was still bad, but it had cleared. There was no reason for Brent to not be there.

My brain spun as I thought of excuses for him.

He had an accident.

There’s a family emergency.

He got a flat tire.

He’s standing me up.

I hugged myself as I thought about the last one. I wanted to shove it away in the dark closet in the back of my head, but I couldn’t.

The remembered pain of what I went through with Marc was still too close to the surface. But this felt even worse.

Brent knows what I went through with that. How could he do this to me? Why?

I grabbed my favorite sweater from the closet and stepped outside. The cool air snapped me out of the moment. He had to have a reason.

As I pulled open his contact information, my finger hovered over his name. I was going to call him and find out what happened. I wasn’t going to let him treat me like this.

But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t call him. I was afraid of what he would say. In the back of my mind I thought about how he used to hate me. How he hated me so much that he brought a date to Samantha’s dinner. He had to know she was setting us up.

Maybe he still hated me. Maybe he was so cruel that he wanted to really hurt me. But why?

When I thought of our time together the past couple of months, none of it made any sense to me.

The door to my apartment opened and Dennis leaned against the doorway.

“Let’s go get a drink,” he said.

It was Christmas Eve and Brent wasn’t coming. The last thing I wanted was to sit at home thinking about that.

***

Dennis drove to a new bar in downtown Canyon Cove. We entered a large open room with tables, chairs, and intimate booths in the corners. Every seat was taken. I thought people would be home with their families, but the bar was surprisingly crowded. A couple rose from their table as we walked past.

“We’re heading out,” the woman said as she touched my sleeve. “You can sit here.”

“Thanks,” I said.

As I squeezed between the tables to get to the empty seat, Dennis sat down on a wood chair. He surveyed the room and then his hand went up. A pretty waitress with braces on her teeth smiled as she walked over with a small drink tray.

“I’ll have a vodka cranberry,” he said, then pointed to me. “And she’ll have a margarita on the rocks, no salt.”

I nodded. I didn’t drink much, but when I did margaritas were my favorite.

Hoping to hear something from Brent, I pulled my phone out to check it again.
Still nothing.

“He’s not going to call,” Dennis said.

“How would you know?” I asked.

“Because I wouldn’t,” he said. “I guess he got what he wanted from you. Be glad, not many women get a car in exchange.”

“And that right there is why we’re never getting back together,” I said.

“You’re going to bring this up now?”

“Why do you always have to do that? Why do you always have to take the knife and twist it? Like I’m not feeling bad enough?”

“Oh here we go again,” he said. “You’re always reading into everything I say.”

“I am? Then how else should I take that?” I asked.

The waitress put our drinks down and disappeared. I stirred my drink, stabbing at the ice cubes, while I waited for Dennis’s response.

“Well?” I asked.

“Jeez, calm down. Just forget I said anything.”

I was about to tear into him more when a man in a black suit with blond hair caught my eye. Brent was standing at the bar talking to his friend Gunnar Craven. I really did have the worst luck.
 

Of all the places Dennis could’ve taken me, he takes me to the same one Brent is at.

“Guess I can cross off accident and family emergency,” I said.

“What?” Dennis said. “I didn't hear you.”

“Nothing, forget about it,” I said, unable to stop staring at Brent.

Dennis followed my gaze.

“Is that him?” he asked. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

“I’m fine.”

I said the words more to myself than to Dennis. Despite how upset I was, despite how much my blood sped up in my veins and despite my nervous habit of wringing my hands being on full display, I knew I would be alright. I didn’t need to run away.

***

Dennis kept the drinks coming. I was deep into my third margarita, still watching Brent, when my margarita induced courage reared its head.

“I’m going over there,” I said, slurring my words. “I’m going to give that asshole a piece of my pie. I mean mind. A piece of my mind.”

Dennis laughed. “Now, now, Jackie. You know that’s just the tequila talking. Maybe I should get you home.”

“Who does he think he is? After all this time, after stalking me like some crazy person, who thinks he does? I mean who does he think he is?”

Dennis waved to the waitress and made a motion in the air like he was signing something. It caught me completely off guard and suddenly I thought it was the funniest thing I had ever seen.

I started laughing. First they were small giggles, but the more I thought about Dennis signing the air, the funnier it seemed to me.

“You’re drunk,” he said. “As soon as I get the bill, we’re leaving.”

“No! No no no,” I said. “He’s right there. I have to say something to him. Oh maybe I’ll throw a drink in his face. I always wanted to do that.”

“No, I’m not going to let you do that. You’ll regret that in the morning. I’m taking you home before you embarrass yourself.”

“Fine,” I said.

I looked at my phone again. It was on and it looked like it was working, but I had my doubts. Maybe the line was messed up. Maybe he tried calling and it didn’t go through.

With my margarita courage, I tapped Brent’s contact information. I looked up at him at the bar again, then back at his number. I wasn't drunk enough to call him, but I was drunk enough to text him.

Jackie:
Thanks for tonight, asshole.

Staring at the sarcastic words on the screen was sobering. I didn’t press send. I didn’t see the point in it.

Dennis reached across the table and roughly grabbed my arm then pulled me past the table. My phone fumbled in my hands until it dropped to the floor. As I picked it up, the phone buzzed letting me know the message was sent.