Runaway Heart (A Game of Hearts #2) (17 page)

My mouth salivated. “Wow.”

“Want a pint?”

“Just a whiskey,” I replied, thanking him as he pulled out a barstool for me to sit on.

As he settled onto the barstool next to me, he flagged the bartender and ordered our drinks.

“When I was younger, my aunt would bring me to this part of the city and take me to get sweets. It was always on a Saturday, and she always wore some kind of hat that had feathers or flowers in it,” he said as the bartender set our drinks down in front of us.

“That’s sweet,” I said, thinking about Saturdays at my house.

Playing alone in my room. Being locked in after Father came home. Listening to my mother as she cried down the hall.

“Yeah, it’s weird how a sight or smell can take ye right back to a memory.”

Like how your hands make me think of that night.

“Yeah,” I said, taking a hearty sip from my drink.

“When it would snow, we’d go to her house and take sleds out back. She had a hill that dipped down into the forest, so we’d ride until our legs couldn’t make the climb back up anymore, and then she’d set out hot chocolate and biscuits.”

“You spent a lot of time with your aunt?” I was fully aware I was encouraging his rule breaking by asking him to continue. I just… I couldn’t help it. I found myself feeling like a chipmunk storing up for the winter. I wanted to hear everything so I could save it all up and take it out to analyze when I was alone.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice trailing off. “I—yeah. We were there a lot. And yourself? Did ye have a special aunt or uncle?”

I thought about the time my mother was hospitalized after my father threw her down the stairs, and no one came. Not a single card or flower had been sent. About how I took it upon myself to tape a handful of paper together and made the biggest card I could for her, which took days to draw, and how my father ripped it in half and threw it out the window on the way to pick her up from the hospital.

In reality, I knew nothing about either of my parents except what she sounded like when she cried and what he sounded like when he yelled. I didn’t have any grandparents. Never even saw a picture of my mother’s family. I only knew about Jack—my half-brother—and the only time I got to spend with him was during his brief holiday visits and when his band would pass through town.

Those were moments I looked forward to. When my dad would be on his best behavior and Jack would share all his stories about his fans and the stars he met while on the road. Jack was everything my father wasn’t. Kind. Sweet. Generous.

But then he would leave, and it would be just my mother, my father’s fists, and me again.

“No,” I said a little quicker than I wanted to. “Just Maggie, her dad, and my half-brother Jack. Those were the moments I looked forward to.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

I shrugged sadly. “I don’t get to see him much. He tours a lot with his band. I didn’t find out about him until I was nine, and he was already in college by then.”

“Well, then tell me something about those moments you looked forward to,” he said, prying information about my past from me. A past I was tethered to like feet stuck to tar.

“Ed, we agreed not to do this.”

“I know,” he said, “but I shared a memory with ye and ye didn’t stop me. That’s two rules now that ye’ve broken.” He paused. Sipped from his beer. “Just answer me this one thing, and then we’ll be even. Deal?”

I hesitated. Lost my reason somewhere between his thick-lashed, eager gaze.

“Deal.” I took another sip. Searched deep through my memories of Maggie and me, trying to find the perfect one.

“Me and Maggie used to pass out notes with compliments to strangers,” I said, my lips blossoming like petals in the springtime. “We’d spend the whole night before writing down as many nice things as we could on little strips of paper we’d painstakingly cut out, and then stand on the corner next to the ice cream shop and hand them out.

“It’s one of my favorite memories—one I can remember in vivid detail. Even now, if I close my eyes, I can still smell the vanilla scent of the waffle cones being made. Still hear the seagulls crying overhead, hoping someone would drop something as the sea breeze whirred through the streets, carrying the scent of summer. I loved the way the sun would kiss my skin in my t-shirt and overalls, and the way my heart skipped a beat every time I handed out a compliment, hoping I’d get that certain smile.”

He chuckled. “Why?”

I shrugged a little. “I don’t know. It was fun. It felt good to make other people smile. To have them look at me with a little bit of appreciation in their eyes. That alone made me smile. Made me feel like there was a little hope in the world.”

He nodded, taking a sip of his beer before asking, “How did people take it? The compliments, I mean?”

“They’d thank us. Tell us how sweet we were,” I recounted, missing Maggie’s face. “I can still see her, Maggie, I mean. Still hear the tone to her voice. It always eased the ache in my chest. She’s more than my best friend. She’s my sister. She
was
my family.”

He was quiet, as if digesting all the unspoken in that declaration of mine.

“I was adopted,” he offered, bringing his cup back up to his lips.

“You were?” I asked, entirely curious. Knowing I was tilting the scales of rule breaking again.

“Yeah. My mother’s oldest sister, Flora and her husband Bob, took me in after my mother passed from cancer. Before that, it was just us in a flat the first three years of my life, so I don’t really remember much about her. From what I’m told, my father was never around. His name isn’t on my birth certificate, so there’s no way to even begin looking for him. My aunt and uncle never hid any of it from me, but they don’t like talking about it much. By the time I turned four, I was legally theirs and soon after, baptized as Edward George Henry Alcott. A mouthful, yeah?”

He shrugged off his question and softly sighed.

“You should check to see if you hold the world record,” I joked, offering a consoling smile. My heart twisted for him as I picked up on the thinly veiled notes of pain in his voice. I saw him more clearly than I ever had before.

He wasn’t so different from me. Though my father was present in the physical sense, he was really no father at all. The only man who I’d ever come close to viewing as a father figure was Maggie’s dad, who took me in more than he ever should have every time my father went on one of his rampages. Just like Ed’s aunt and uncle did for him when he had no one else to turn to.

I guess… I guess pain came in all shapes and sizes.

“So your aunt and uncle, I’m guessing you had a good childhood with them?” I asked, trying to bring the light back into his eyes.

His shoulder lifted. “They’re good people. A little pretentious sometimes, but good people nonetheless. I always went to the best schools, had the best things, and never once was I treated less than a son in their eyes. It all works out in the end, things like that. I was the son they couldn’t have, and they were the parents I needed.”

“Well, I’m glad they were there when you needed them.”

“Me too.” He smiled with pride.

The noise in the pub picked up around us, so I scooted a little closer, until my shoulder touched his. “You said your mom’s oldest sister. So you have another aunt?”

His head dipped in acknowledgement as a wide grin split his lips. “I do. Her name is Della, and she’s one hell of a lady. I think ye’d like her. She had a rough start, Della did, with her first husband.”

Like a fog settling in, images of my father’s fist and my mother’s cowering form rolled across my mind.
Rough start.
I knew exactly what that meant, because it was the same story with every woman who ever married a man too big for his britches.

And it made me feel like a barrel of acid sloshed over into my stomach.

“So—she remarried?” I asked, not wanting to pry for more about that first husband.

“Yeah, to a chap named Elliot. Good bloke. A patient one too.” He winked at me, clueless to the way my memories continuously hounded me like a hunter on the heels of its prey.

“I never would have guessed. You being adopted, that is.” My knee accidentally brushed against his, sending a familiar rush through my nervous system. I wanted to ask him a million more questions, but I knew I needed to stick to my rules at the same time.

He finished off his beer, and then settled back into his seat, throwing his arm around mine. “It’s not something I like to tell people.”

“But you told me,” I said, realizing how far out on a limb he just went for me.

“I did.” He looked at me in a way he promised he wouldn’t.

“I—we should probably get back to the others. I’m starving, and I’m sure the girls are too. Visions of juicy hamburgers have danced in my head for the past hour. You know, skating and all… it leaves the stomach a’ grumblin’,” I rambled, trying not to notice the charming, almost deliberate smile he wore as he watched me. “And… and if we don’t feed Cherry, she gets hangry,” I added, laughing when his eyebrows scrunched.

“What the bloody hell is hangry?”

I slid off the barstool. “Angry hunger… and you definitely don’t want to see her get like that.”

Ed followed suit, pulling out his wallet and tossing a few bills on the bar. “Well, we can’t have that, now can we? How about I take us to a pub I used to go to when I was younger? It has the best chips.”

“You mean French fries,” I said, baiting him.

“No, love. I mean chips.” He leaned a little closer, so close I saw the small flecks of gold near the irises of his eyes.

An ache formed in my stomach as my pulse jumped.

“You broke another rule by asking me more questions, so we need to even ourselves out again, love,” he said in a low, husky voice.

Before I could come back with a smart-ass reply, he pecked a small kiss to my lips, and then led me out of the pub.

“Consider us even,” he said with a smirk.

A dreamy smile I couldn’t contain hovered on my lips as we walked hand in hand, and I wished for once that I didn’t like breaking rules.

“DO YOU HAVE TO HEAD back to the inn now, or are ye up to a bit of fun?” Charlie asked, throwing his napkin on his plate. He leaned his elbows on the table as he cast a curious look over to Charlotte, and then Cherry.

“Depends on what you have in mind,” Cherry answered with an impish grin, her arm looped around Violet’s neck.

Hannah pushed her plate away from her. “Not to be the bearer of bad news, but we can’t stay out too late. We have a bout tomorrow.” She leaned forward to give a stern look at Cherry and Charlotte.

Both girls bobbed their heads.

“What time is it?” Cherry asked, looking around for a clock.

Violet pulled her phone out. “It’s only half past six, so plenty of time before we have to see ye off to your beds.”

Hannah fidgeted beside me.

I leaned in, my lips hovering near Hannah’s ear as my fingertips brushed against her neck. Damn, she smelled good.

“We don’t have to go. I can walk you back to the inn if ye’d like.” I kept my tone light while I secretly hoped she’d like my offer better than whatever it was Charlie planned.

The shudder that ripped through her body when my breath moved against her ear was enough to tell me how much I affected her.

Her bright blue eyes met mine, and I saw the flush to her skin my words brought on. Saw the need burning like fire in her irises. It made me want to take her right then and there. Take every rule she tried to make, and toss them into the flames our bodies joining would surely create.

She was gorgeous—so honestly beautiful. It tightened my chest and took the breath right from me. I didn’t care who saw us together. Didn’t wonder what they thought and, as she leaned a little toward me, her full lips nearing mine, I wasn’t sure she did either.

“Oh come on, Hannah,” Charlotte interrupted, killing the moment.

Hannah jerked back.

“You blew us off at Big Ben today. Don’t blow us off again.” She batted her overly made-up eyes. Hands folded neatly under her chin.

Hannah cleared her throat and tugged at her bottom lip, the internal war raging inside evident in her facial features. “Fine,” she finally said, sighing heavily as she rolled her eyes when Charlotte bounced in her seat while clapping her hands.

Charlie, sitting to Charlotte’s right, hooked his arm over her seat and put his hand on her shoulder with a familiarity I hadn’t seen in them before. She stilled immediately. I thought she might slap him, but she turned to him, giving him a very saucy wink, and giggled.

What the hell had we missed after leaving them on their own the short time we had?

“Then it’s settled! I know this place just down the street…” Charlie said, helping Charlotte from her seat while the rest of us followed.

“I hope ye know what ye’re getting us into,” I whispered to Hannah as we slid our jackets on. “Charlie’s version of fun could rival the creepiest of fun houses at a fair.”

Her wide eyes implored mine, telling me so many things I didn’t want to hear. “Anything is better than the two of us being alone in a room, right?”

I didn’t want to agree. Not when every part of me ached to touch her. To take her, uncaring of who knew or what the consequences would be. But, in her eyes, I knew that wasn’t what she needed from me. She needed safety. Reliability.

She needed a casual friend.

So I gave it to her.

“Right,” I said, and then headed past her for the door.

“AN 80’S CLUB?” VIOLET ASKED, following it up with a painful groan.

Charlie gave her a friendly push. “Mind yourself. And what’s wrong with 80’s music?”

Violet shoved her hands deep into her pockets, mouth hanging wide open.

“What?” Charlie asked as he shook his head.

“What do you mean—what? 80’s music? Are you stuck in a time loop, mate?” Violet fired back.

“Time loop?”

“Yes, ye bloody wanker… a time loop.” She laughed at the shocked look on Charlie’s face.

“Ingrate,” Charlie shot back as he advanced on her. “That’s the trouble with the younger generation; ye wouldn’t know good music if it bit you on the arse.”

Violet’s hands came out of her pockets before she darted to the left, out of Charlie’s grasp, saying something about his sucky taste in music. She wasn’t quick enough.

He grabbed her arms with both hands and gave her a shake. “I have brilliant taste in music. And ye should be respectful to the greats who built the foundation of music. Nothing compares to the birth of rock and roll, but the break out of hair band rock… there’s nothing else in the world like it!”

Violet giggled as the rest of us watched with a mix of general humor when Charlie spun her in a circle and, in a high falsetto voice, tried his hand at singing
Nothing Compares to You
.

“Stop. For the love of God, stop! My ears are bleeding,” she pleaded, trying to cover her ears.

“Don’t like love ballads? Okay, how about this one?” He spoke over the top of her as he broke into a little dance move that had his fingers snapping as he did his own rendition of the chorus of Billy Idols,
Rebel Yell
.

“Okay… Okay, I give! 80’s music is the best music in all of music history! Will that make ye stop?” she shouted.

Charlie stopped singing mid-word and lifted her up in his arms, carrying her past us with a jerk of his head. “I’ve got her where I want her. Best we get inside before she does a runner.”

Hannah clapped her hand over her mouth to contain her laughter as we fell in behind everyone.

“He’s a right mess,” I said, putting my hand around Hannah’s back and pulling her close as a double-decker tour bus pulled up, dumping a slew of tourists onto the sidewalk beside us.

Inside the club, music pumped through the speakers into the cigarette and beer-scented air like a pseudo rock concert. The place wasn’t packed, but it was pretty close. Bright, neon lights sliced through the room in different angles, separating bodies into shapely patterns. The bottom of my shoes stuck to the ground as if they were walking across partially dried glue.

I fought to hear a single thought in my head over the music, but it was Hannah who had my heart on the edge of beating right out of my chest. The way she leaned against me, her lips moving to the words of the song filling the club. The small, secret smile brushing her lips, making me wish I knew what she was thinking.

We were in a room full of people, and all I saw was her. All I cared about was her. I just wish she felt the same.

Following Charlie, we snaked our way toward the back where it was a little less crowded. Not only did it put us close to the bathroom, but also to the billiard tables and a dartboard.

There was a single table in the far corner that stood empty. Charlie led us over to it, peeling off his jacket along the way. Once his jacket was draped over a chair, he pulled me to the side.

“I’ll go put a drink order in,” he said, leaning in as he shouted over the music.

I nodded, shrugging out of my jacket.

The interior of the club was eclectic. Old concert posters, guitars, and framed candid photos of music artists from Prince to Joan Jett plastered the walls with no sense of symmetry. I couldn’t help but think it looked like the bloody British Invasion all over again, or a form of it. Some of the patrons were dressed in their regular street clothes, while others… they were a sight dressed in full rigged-out 80’s gear. Bright neon colors with bracelets up to the elbow on the girls. Leather pants, chains hanging, metal-studded collars, and punked-up hair for the blokes.

I nodded along with the music, relaxed by the beat as I people watched. Hanging my coat over the back of Hannah’s chair, I helped her out of hers and put it over mine. With only four chairs at the table, I let the girls sit and moved to stand behind Hannah.

While the music might not be to their taste, they made the most of it. Even Violet danced in her chair. Maybe there was something good to come out of Charlie’s plan after all.

As if I’d called him out of thin air, he parted through the crowd and came to stand beside me. Leaning in, he shouted at the vicinity of my ear, “Damn me if it isn’t crowded tonight. Usually it isn’t this busy, or loud.”

I nodded as he clapped me on the shoulder. “A table just opened up. Care to play?”

I shook my head no and dipped my head in Hannah’s direction.

“Right,” he said, moving over to bend in between Charlotte and Cherry.

Cherry looked over her shoulder in the direction of Charlie’s thumb before popping to her feet. Her eyes met mine, and then moved to her seat. “Sit,” she said.

Moving around, I pulled out her chair, putting me directly across from Hannah.

Her eyes darted everywhere before settling on me in surprise. “Where’s Cherry?” she mouthed, her head bobbing to the music.

I pointed over my shoulder, and her eyes followed before settling back on me.

“Are ye all right?” I mouthed to her.

She nodded, leaning to close the space between us, and said something that disappeared into the noise.

I shook my head and grabbed my chair, moving it to the end of the table as she scooted her seat closer to the corner.

When I sat down, she leaned close enough that her lips brushed my ear. “I said I should have just let you walk me home. I’m just… I’m not in the mood tonight. Not with knowing tomorrow will be a defining moment in my derby career. I can’t even hear myself think.”

Before she could move back, I pulled her close, giving her ear the same treatment, and smiled when I felt her shudder. She angled her neck, inviting me closer. Tempting me further. “How ‘bout this…” I said, moving my lips over her ear. “Don’t think. Just feel.”

A burst of hot air hit my neck like she’d been holding her breath, waiting for me to tell her to relax. Waiting for someone to tell her it was okay to let loose.

“Maybe you’re right. All these rules and priorities,” she said, laughing uneasily, “they’ve made me a little hard when it comes to fun.”

“It’s a good thing I’m here to remind ye of that then.” A warm, fuzzy feeling filled me as the smile I’d searched for since I saw her that night in the alley finally surfaced.

“Yeah… a good thing,” she repeated, blowing out a trembling breath.

Our drinks showed up a few minutes later, and Hannah clutched hers with both hands as she brought it up to her lips and downed half of it with one long gulp. When she set the cup down, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

Noticing I was watching her, she hitched her shoulder with a twist of her lips.

I pulled her chair in close. “Do ye want to leave? Ye look a bit rattled.”

She shook her head, turning to answer me. I didn’t move back, not wanting any space between us, and her lips brushed my cheek, leaving a blazing path along my skin.

She jerked back, eyes wide and cheeks freshly bloomed with color.

I tapped my finger against my lips as if to say,
do it again, but here instead
. It was the small bit of humor she needed from me.

Hannah rolled her eyes, pushed my face to the side, and then leaned in. “I told them I’d come. I can’t leave now or they’ll give me hell about it later.”