Seven (4 page)

“You just want to drop her keys off in her apartment? Why don’t you just shove a note under her door that you have the keys so she has to come see you to get them?”

I cock my head at the dumbass standing in front of me. “And how is she going to get to me tomorrow morning to get the keys to her car when I live miles away from here and she won’t have a car? And how will she lock her apartment tomorrow when she leaves?”

“Oh, yeah.” Cole nods. “Okay. Let’s do it. But if there’s any sound whatsoever coming from her apartment, I’m not doing this. And if she calls the cops, you totally stole the fucking keys from me.”

“Deal.” I nod. “Let’s go.”

I follow Cole to her apartment since I have no idea which one it is. When we reach her door he puts his ear against it to listen for any evidence that Savannah may be awake. I can’t help but smirk and chuckle softly to myself when I see that she lives in apartment B-7. Seven must be her lucky number.

“I don’t hear anything. I’ll wait close by in case she starts screaming.”

“Thanks, man.” I half smile. I can feel my hand shaking slightly as I insert the key into the lock and open the door. Once I’m in I notice the chain lock she has for the door but obviously didn’t use. I hope it’s because she was too drunk to think of it and it’s not something she does all the time. It’s not safe to leave it unlocked.

Obviously.

I lay her keys on the small table inside her door, assuming that’s probably where she keeps them. On the table already is a traveling coffee mug, a stack of post-it notes, and a pen. I quickly leave a note for her next to her keys so she realizes that someone brought her car back for her.

Savannah is in this apartment.

I can smell her.

Sleeping?

I should check on her.

I should absolutely not check on her.

Against my better judgment I continue into her apartment and turn to quietly close her door. I make my way into her kitchen and look around. It’s dark but she’s left a light on over her sink. She must wake up throughout the night and need a drink.

A drink.

Perfect!

I search the cupboards until I find her glasses and quietly take one out and fill it with water. It won’t be cold but it’s still water. I place it on the counter and look through more of her cupboards, hoping to find some Advil. Many of her cupboards are bare. She doesn’t keep much for herself around here – just a few dishes, glasses and mugs. My heart melts for her a little more.

She deserves so much more than this.

A-ha! I find a bottle already open sitting farther down on the counter. I pull three of them out and lay them next to the glass of water. Going back to grab a post-it note, I scribble a quick note to her in hopes it’ll help with the hangover she’s bound to have in the morning. I want to check on her so badly but I just can’t risk being seen. She doesn’t ever need to know I was here, that just seeing her again has brought back feelings I had forgotten I had. Life gets in the way sometimes and we forget about things until they’re presented to us a second time and in a different circumstance. Wishing this were a happier circumstance, I make my way back to her door, pulling it closed behind me and watching as Cole locks it from the outside with his key.

“Thanks, man. I owe you one.”

“Anytime, Bryant, and your secret is safe with me.”

“Thanks.” As much as I wish I could just sit outside and wait for her to wake up so I can make nice, I know that’s a ridiculous idea. This is going to take time. I’m going to have to play it cool if I even have a half a chance with this girl’s heart. She’s not going to throw it out there very easily, that I do know. Somehow, I’ll have to make her see that she needs me.

Chapter 4

Savannah

I don’t feel nearly as bad as I should, having just woken up from a night of pretty heavy drinking. It’s almost disappointing. Maybe I’m just not the lush I thought I was, or maybe that asshole of a bartender was watering down the drinks. Sitting up in bed doesn’t cause the room to spin as I expected it would, and my head isn’t hurting worse than a dull ache. Regardless, I make my way to the kitchen to grab some Advil and orange juice, and maybe even a quick bowl of oatmeal. I walk into the kitchen towards the sink to grab a glass from the cupboard above except…there is already a glass of water sitting out on the counter, a bottle of Advil right next to it. A yellow sticky note lies next to them that reads,

Take two and make some toast.

You’ll feel better.

“What the fuck?” I say aloud.

This isn’t my handwriting.

Who the hell was in my apartment? Are they still here?

Shit!

“Hello?” I say a little louder than usual for someone who lives alone. Still holding onto the note, I quietly tip toe through the kitchen to my living room, shaking a bit with every step. Nobody other than my parents and Cole has a key to my apartment. I don’t know why I’m just now deciding to go all silent ninja once I’ve already said hello. Not one of my brighter moments. A quick and silent walk through every room in the apartment shows no evidence of someone having been here.

Was I that drunk that I don’t remember?

I walk to my door and confirm to myself that it is indeed locked but laying on the table right inside the door where I usually throw my mail is my car key with another note.

It’s parked out front. You’re welcome.

“What the…?” I mumble.

Quickly I dash to the front window where I can clearly see my red Ford Fusion parked in the lot.

I didn’t drive my car back last night.

I walked.

Nobody has my car keys.

Who the fuck moved my car?

And why?

Having absolutely no clue how any of this matches up, I walk back to my room and grab my phone. I send a text message to Rachel asking her if it was her that moved my car. She doesn’t answer right away so I gather that she must still be sleeping off last night as well. Needing to hit the grocery store before I go to work, I make my way to the bathroom to get myself decently ready for the day. The shop doesn’t open until noon, so I have just enough time to get what I need for the next few days.

Ten minutes later, I’m making my way through the aisles of Save-A-Lot, throwing my necessities into my cart. Since I spend a lot of time alone, I’ve become a good cook. It’s easier to learn to cook for myself than it is to be spotted around town eating by myself. I suppose I could live off of ramen noodles and Spaghetti-o’s like the college students do, but who can eat that shit as an adult? Yeah it sucks sometimes having more left overs than I know what to do with, but at least it provides me with a decent lunch the next day. I get through the produce section, picking up my favorite vegetables, and turn down aisle four for a few other ingredients for tonight’s dinner.

“Seven Sanders...it’s good to see you up and at ‘em this morning.” I hear the male voice say. I turn my head from where I just grabbed a bag of noodles with my mouth hanging open.

Fuck. Not the bartender again
.

“Looks like you’re making it through the morning just fine huh? The alcohol didn’t do you in, I guess.” He smirks.

“It’s Seven
Turner
. Savannah Turner, I mean.” I say shaking my head. “My name isn’t Seven...”

He leans effortlessly against the shelf in front of me. “Yeah well my name isn’t Jackass or Asswipe but you seemed to have no problem calling me by those names last night, sweetheart.”

“Hey, if the shoe fi…”  My voice fades away when I finally make eye contact with the guy speaking to me. The short soft hair, the deep brown eyes, the most likely very sexy body under those clothes…it takes my breath away for just a moment. There’s something about him though that I can’t place.

“Do I know you?”

“Apparently not.”

“Should I know you?”

“I would’ve thought.”

What the hell...

“Do you always talk like Dr. Seuss?”

He smirks. “Is that what you now deduce?”

Hmm. He’s good.

“Ok, point for you. Now how do you know who I am? Are you an old client?”

He tries to hold back a smile but can’t.

“Nope, I’m your old friend Bryant.”

Har har.

“My old friend Bry…” I narrow my eyes. It can’t be.

“Wood,” he says quietly. “Bryant Wood.”

I gasp loudly. “Bryant ‘The Giant’ Wood?” I ask. “That Bryant?”

He winces and throws his head back in a hearty laugh. “Touché, Seven. I guess I deserved that. Nicknames can be brutal. So you do remember me then.” He grins, crossing his arms in front of him, an action that causes his biceps to bulge in front of me.

Holy hell.

“Remember you?” I raise an eyebrow before rolling my eyes. “How could I ever forget ‘Mr. Climb-my-stalk-and-free-the-giant’ Wood?” I cast my eyes quickly over the body standing in front of me, surprised that I could actually see it as desirable, if it didn’t belong to Bryant Wood, the biggest asshole of my high school class. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. You’ve uh… changed.”  I try not to notice how his shirt sleeves tighten at his biceps when his arms cross, but sometimes a girl can't help it. Football obviously agreed with him. Bryant’s body reminds me of a young farmer in a way: hard around the edges from days of hard work, but built and warm enough to want to snuggle up next to.

Whoa.

Where the fuck did that come from?

I shake my head, blinking quickly and hoping that Bryant isn’t perceptive enough to know what I was thinking just now. The smirk on his face tells me I’m probably wrong.

“Doesn’t everybody?” he asks. “I mean look at you, Seven. You’re…beautiful.” His eyes drag leisurely down my body and back up, resting on the mounds of flesh attached to my chest, making it very clear that like most men, Bryant is a boob man. I watch as he licks his lips like a lion about to pounce on his lunch. Think again, buddy.

Yeah, I’m not the little fat girl anymore douchebag.

“Yeah? Well, I guess people change as they grow up don’t they Bryant? Maybe I should say thanks…except I don’t really feel that grateful. You certainly did a bang-up job of telling everyone how much I was changing back in the day.” I roll my eyes again and shake my head. “If you’ll excuse me I just need to finish my shopping and get home before I have go to work.”

Bryant looks caught off-guard for a second, tilting his head in confusion. He shakes his head slightly and says, “I’m sorry. Did I…offend you in some way?”

Ugh. It’s not worth the argument and will only make me look like the petty one. He doesn’t even remember that far back. “No.” I roll my eyes. “Don’t worry about it.”

I watch as he inhales deeply, not saying anything, before he looks in my shopping cart. I suddenly feel violated, like someone just peeked into my medicine cabinet.

“Carrots, celery, peas, noodles…looks like someone’s making homemade soup,” he says to change the subject.

“So what if I am?”

“I like soup,” he says.

“I don’t care.”

“Maybe we should have soup together sometime.”

Like Hell.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t like you then, and I don’t think I like you now.” I spit out.

“Ouch.” He chuckles. “Why don’t you like me now?”

“Because I don’t like men who push themselves on women.”

“Is that what you think I’m doing?” he asks.

“Isn’t it?”

“Not at all, Seven. I’m just trying to have a friendly conversation with an old classmate who, yes, happens to be attractive, and like myself, also happens to like soup. Is that such a bad thing?”

The dimple in his cheek is a cute feature. I hadn’t noticed it before.

“The jury’s still out on that one.”

“Well, when the verdict is in, please do let me know. Chicken soup is good for the soul as they say; I mean, I hear they write books about it and stuff.” That tickles my funny bone enough to finally chuckle out loud. Damn him and his smart mouth.

“Yeah, I guess they do.” I nod my head towards his shopping cart, taking stock in what he’s purchasing. “Didn’t you know ‘Trix are for kids,’ Bryant? I’m pretty sure the age limit on that sugar intake is like twelve or something.”

He chuckles but doesn’t seem too affected by my teasing him. “Yeah. I guess you caught my guilty pleasure. Could be worse though, huh?”

“Yeah,” I say quietly. I glance at him one more time with a tight smile. “Look it was nice to see you this morning and I appreciate the catch up, but I really do have to get home. I work soon.”

“Yeah. It was nice to see you too
Savannah
.” He says with annunciation so that I acknowledge that he indeed used my real name. For a fleeting moment his smile fades and he looks at me with what appears to be sincerity, though I’m sure it’s an act. “I’m glad you made it home safely last night. I’ll uh…I’ll see ya around.”

“Sure. See ya.” I half smile and continue down the aisle, turning the corner into the dairy section, telling myself over and over to not look back over my shoulder to see if he’s watching me… because I’m not interested.

He’s no good for me.

Don’t fall into the trap Savannah.

I’m not interested.

I don’t care.

‘Cause I’m not interested.