Authors: Jeannine Allison
I told myself I agreed to go to the restaurant simply because I wanted to apologize. And I did. But deep down, I also knew I wanted the chance to explain I wasn’t
that
person. It mattered what those girls thought of me; it mattered what Alara thought of me.
I’d only known her for two hours. Two freaking hours. Barely enough time to watch a movie nowadays, but still, it felt like something was there. And it was different than the casual hookups I had in Europe. Different than my relationship with Miranda.
Obviously, I didn’t love her. Hell, I didn’t even
know
her. But sometimes you meet a person and you just know on some level they belong in your life. I didn’t know in what capacity, but I knew somewhere in my life, there was room for this girl. And while I wasn’t planning our marriage or even our first date, I knew she was going to matter.
I called Derek as soon as I parked my car in front of the restaurant. He told me he was picking up Sherry and Naomi since they were together, and they’d all be here in fifteen minutes.
“What about Alara? How’s she getting here?”
“Naomi just spoke to her and I guess she’s already there,” he mumbled as I heard a honk in the background.
“Oh, okay. Well, I’m here too, so I guess I’ll go in and join her.”
“Sure, just try not to get in a fight that results in her landing on her ass again,” he said dryly before he hung up.
I glared at my phone before shoving it in my pocket and getting out of my car.
Derek had spoken to Sherry later the night of the fight, and when he told me of an already forming bruise on her hip and wrist, I was more than pissed. Naomi was surprisingly nice about the whole thing and was very concerned with making sure I didn’t feel bad. It didn’t work, I still felt awful. And despite Derek’s consolation in the car, he still was giving me grief over it.
As I neared the restaurant, I opened the door and took a step back, allowing an elderly couple to go in first. They smiled and thanked me as they entered. I watched them walk past the hostess stand and up to a large table where the rest of their party was already seated.
“Good evening, sir. How many?” the hostess greeted.
“Five. But one’s already here,” I said as my eyes casually swept the restaurant for her.
“Alara?”
“Yeah.”
“Perfect,” she said while walking around the desk and beckoning me to follow. “She’s just at that table in the back.”
“Thanks,” I said and turned my attention to the semicircle booth that was remarkably similar to the one from the bar. She was sitting in the same spot, too, not quite centered and just off to the right.
Even from here, I could tell something was different. At first, all I could see was the top of her messy bun—she was hunched over a journal and was writing so fast and with such vigor I thought she would tear right through the pages. When she leaned back, it was like she was coming up for air, and she smiled at what she saw on the pages.
“Excuse me, sir,” I heard a voice say.
I realized I was standing in the middle of a restaurant and there was a plate of food about to be whisked into my head. I mumbled an apology and headed to the booth. Alara had returned to her former position, so engrossed in her writing that she didn’t even register my presence until I slid into the booth across from her. With a start, she sat up straight and stared at me, wide-eyed, like she didn’t know me. How the hell could she not remember?
That depressing thought was immediately cut off as her eyes shrank and her grin grew. “Hey, Gabe.”
I drew in a quick breath at the sound of my name on her lips. She’d never said my name that night at the bar, and honestly, I’d never given the sound of my name much thought. But it sounded different, better, coming from her than it ever had before. I never loved my name as much as I did in that moment.
A moment of slightly awkward silence descended on us as I just stared at her before I realized I hadn’t said anything. “Hi.”
Alara’s lips quirked slightly, drawing my gaze to her mouth. Her bare lips were the palest shade of pink, and the light sheen on them had me swallowing hard. Just like her lips, the rest of her face was free of makeup. I could see the faint dark circles under her eyes and the scattered redness on her cheeks, but she still looked beautiful with her bright-green eyes and wide smile. My eyes dipped lower to her black sweatshirt that read,
Sorry I’m late. I didn’t want to come
. I smiled and brought my gaze up to hers where she was already waiting.
“I’m trying hard not to take that personally,” I said as I nodded toward her chest.
Her brow furrowed, and she looked down before shaking her head and laughing. “Oh. I went to the gym earlier and somehow I always end up wearing this on gym days. Probably because I hate the gym.” She lifted the material from her chest and looked back at me as her laughter faded.
“I’m sensing a pattern here. You seem to just dislike public places.”
“Well, I definitely prefer being in my bed over almost everything else.”
My eyebrows rose and my lips quirked as I thought of all the things we could do in her bed. She seemed to sense my thoughts because her eyes widened in horror and the blush across her face was instantaneous.
“I-I didn’t mean it that way. I just… I’m much more of a homebody.”
Nodding, I decided to give her a break. Torturing her would have no doubt been fun, but my conscience screamed at me to get to the point.
“Look, about the other night—” I began at the same time she asked, “How’s your hand?”
We both paused as small smiles tugged at our lips. She waved me off and shook her head before saying, “Don't worry about what happened. It wasn’t your fault. Naomi told me how bad you felt.” She frowned slightly as she tore up the straw wrapper in front of her.
I didn’t respond. Instead, all I could do was stare. I’d never thrown a punch in my life before that night, but she didn’t know that, and I was amazed she didn't just assume I was some asshole with an aggression problem. I knew some women found that attractive, but I was willing to bet money Alara wasn’t one of them.
She picked up her glass to take a drink, and when she set it back down, I noticed her hands were fidgeting. As she noted my stare, she quickly pulled them beneath the table, out of sight. After a few more seconds, her whole body started to squirm, and she asked the question I could already read on her face. “What?”
“I just… I don’t understand how can you be so understanding? You were hurt—”
“I’m not entirely sure what you were told, but it’s just a couple of bruises, nothing more. Any blood you saw was from his nose.”
“Good.” I nodded absentmindedly. “About his nose, I mean.” I shook my head and took a deep breath.
Despite everyone’s assurance, I couldn’t stop the familiar feeling of guilt from settling in my stomach. Accidents happened. I knew that. I wasn’t trying to be a martyr. I knew a clear conscience could be found deeper if I cared to look, but I didn’t think I deserved that. Maybe it was residual guilt from leaving Sam when she needed me. Maybe it was the feeling that I was failing everyone and leaving them worse than before I found them. Maybe—
“Look.” She started, and my internal babble was cut short as I glanced over to find Alara biting her lip, looking pensive and unsure. In any other context, a girl biting her lip would be a major turn-on, but right now, it had me feeling anxious and uneasy.
“What is it?”
She slowly rolled up her sleeve so I could plainly see four distinct fingerprints in the form of angry purple bruises on her right wrist. I sucked in a breath and opened my mouth when she quickly raised her hands to halt my speech. I nodded my understanding.
“
This
”—she paused, pointing to her arm—“was intentional. The other stuff was an accident. You were trying to help me.” She paused again as she thought carefully about her next words. Like whatever she had to say might be the most important thing I’d ever hear. It was nice knowing this girl, who for all intents and purposes was a stranger, cared enough to take time with her words. “In some situations, society is convinced intent is the only thing that matters, while in other situations, society insists only the final outcome matters. I personally don’t believe it’s ever as cut and dry as that. You can’t look at the outcome without considering the intent, and vice versa. I know you didn’t want me to get hurt, and for me that matters more than the fact that I accidently did.”
I was completely immobilized by the sincere look on her face that pleaded with me to accept her truth.
“Okay?”
“Yeah,” I choked out. “Okay.”
“Good,” she replied with a wide grin. She grabbed a menu and began browsing as though the last five minutes hadn’t changed anything. Meanwhile I sat and stared at her, lost in my thoughts about how the last five minutes might have changed everything.
…
We were silent and waiting for the rest of the group when our waitress came over. “Hello, can I get you something to drink while you wait?” she asked, looking at me.
“Water’s fine. Thanks.” The server left, and my eyes found Alara’s. “What were you writing?” I asked, nodding to her bag.
“I—” Looking relieved, she was cut off as Naomi and a guy I didn’t recognize walked up to the table. A chorus of hellos went out as Naomi slid in next to Alara, and the guy followed.
“Gabe, this is Caleb, my boyfriend. And Caleb, this is Gabe, Derek’s new roommate,” Naomi said as she waved her hand between us.
We’d just finished shaking hands when Derek and Sherry walked in. Derek nudged my shoulder, forcing me to scoot all the way to the top of the curve where I was plastered against Alara’s side once again. She gave me a shy smile as she positioned her bag onto her lap so there was more room.
The restaurant started getting busier as the lunch crowd finally descended and our waitress’s attention on us became increasingly sparse. Everyone fell into easy conversation as we discussed things from the events of Thursday night to what we did with the rest of the weekend. I still had a hard time believing that two weeks ago, I had been getting ready to leave Prague—homeless, jobless, and friendless—and now I was sitting in a trendy diner with four (maybe five) new friends.
Our waitress had just dropped off our food, and the plate was barely on the table before Naomi picked up her burger and took a huge bite of it.
“Charming,” Caleb drawled.
“Fanks,” she said around a mouthful of food. Once she swallowed, she lifted the bun and grunted. “Damn, they forgot the ketchup. Could you grab me some?”
Caleb nodded once before standing up and walking to the server stand.
“He doesn’t talk much, does he?” I asked Alara as I leaned over. I saw my breath tickle the hair around her ear, and I smiled when I felt the heat from her reddening cheeks. But when I felt her body go stiff, I leaned back a little until she was comfortable again.
“No, not really. He, uh, he’s more of an observer.” Her attention was quickly wrenched away from me as Naomi started complaining about all the reading her classes required before the first day of the semester tomorrow.
When Caleb returned, she took the bottle and dumped it on her burger without taking a breath away from her rant. “It’s just not fair. Homework over the summer is practically a sin.” She slammed the bottle on the table, sans cap, causing some to shoot up and land with a splat on the table. “Ah, dammit, can you go grab me some napkins?” Naomi asked dismissively as she turned to Alara again with her finger raised. “And another thing…”
I stopped listening as I looked over to Caleb in time to see him roll his eyes and, with reluctance, stand up again. He sat again just as Derek asked for Naomi’s purse. She handed it over with a strange expression before wiping up the ketchup and rolling the napkin into a ball.
“What are you looking for?” she asked when he started rummaging around in it and putting her things on the table. Wallet. Keys. Cell phone. Tampon. Voodoo doll? We all turned to stare at her. She didn’t look fazed in the slightest; she merely shrugged and repeated her question.
“They have to be in here somewhere,” he mumbled.
“Hey, jackass. Maybe if you tell me what you’re looking for, I can help you find it.” She raised her eyebrow in a challenge, and Derek answered with a smirk that looked like trouble.
“Oh boy,” Alara whispered next to me.
I leaned in once more, her body much less rigid than last time. “Does that smirk mean what I think it means?” I whispered back.
“If you think it means trouble, then yes, it does.” She gave me a sideways glance and a small, genuine smile just as Derek spoke again.
“I was just looking for Caleb’s balls.”
Sherry joined in on Derek’s laughter, and Naomi looked sheepish, as she seemed to consider the past few minutes from her boyfriend’s perspective. Caleb grunted before pulling out a twenty and throwing it on the table. He stood and strode from the restaurant without a single word.
Naomi’s face rapidly morphed into pissed as she got out of the booth and grabbed the twenty. “You’re an asshole,” she said as she ripped her purse away from him. “And for that, you can pay for both our meals.” She stormed away after shoving the money in her purse, chasing after Caleb.
“Why’d you do that?” Alara asked, and I couldn’t help but notice that even with a third of the booth vacated, she didn’t move an inch. I smiled into my glass as I took a sip.
“He was just messing around,” Sherry said as she rolled her eyes like everyone was overreacting.
“Yeah, and with anyone else, that would have been fine. But he knows Caleb barely tolerates him as it is.”
“It’s not my fault he has a stick up his ass. Besides, he
is
pussy whipped.”
“So because he does nice things for your sister, respects her, and tries to make her happy, he’s…” She trailed off and blushed at the impending words. “
That
.” She finally finished while waving a hand in Derek’s direction.
“What?” Derek feigned ignorance as he playfully bit back a grin. Alara’s eyes narrowed, and there was nothing playful about it. He exhaled and ran his palm down his face. “I just don’t get why they’re dragging this out.”