I’m sitting in the formal living room of my home, waiting for Angie to pick me up. Wearing something blue. Jon’s across from me, working on yet another model plane.
“Dad called this morning,” he says, his voice cutting through the silence.
My heart jumps to my throat. I highly doubt it was a personal call just to say hello, and disappointment settles in my gut like a brick, knowing without Jon saying the words that he told him. Over the phone.
Jon’s fist tightens around his paintbrush, pausing from where he’s filling in a black line down the side of his plane. “Look, he told me, okay? So you can stop looking at me like that.”
I inhale a slow breath. “Told you what?”
“That I’m going to that stupid boarding school. It’s fine.”
Sighing, I lean back into the chair, resting my arms on the cushioned sides. “It is?”
His eyes flick to me over the rim of his glasses. “Would it matter if it wasn’t?”
“Of course, it would.”
He tosses his paintbrush down, running a hand through his jet-black hair, so similar to our mother’s. “There’s nothing you can do to change it, Wendy. It is what it is, and you sitting there looking like you’re about to burst into tears isn’t helping the situation.”
My chest pulls tight. “I’m not—”
His eyes narrow. “You are.”
“I just want you to be happy. That’s all.” I raise my hands.
He doesn’t respond, his attention going back to his craft. The silence is suffocating as it wraps its way around my throat and stuffs into my ears, allowing room for my thoughts to grow wild and uninterrupted.
This is the only thing I’ve asked my father for, and yet, somehow, he still couldn’t follow through, choosing to take the easy road, to cast Jon’s feelings aside as if something as huge as this doesn’t really matter. Another charred and heavy log is thrown on the fire of my anger, simmering at the base of my gut.
“He said I’m going tomorrow.”
The words are soft and short, but they pummel me in the chest anyway. “Tomorrow?” I gasp. “Is he coming home to take you there?”
Jon’s lips curve into a small smile, but it isn’t happiness I feel vibrating through the air. “Wendy, be real. The driver will take me.”
Flames lick up my insides, heating my veins. “I’ll take you.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.” I force a smile. “I’ve gotta see it for myself if I plan on visiting every week.”
Jon groans. “You are not allowed to visit every week.”
My grin grows. “Well, you better let me take you tomorrow then, otherwise I’ll come all the time, and I’ll make sure to be extra embarrassing.”
Jon chuckles, his eyes sparking the tiniest bit. “Wendy, you’re never embarrassing. Just… overbearing.”
My hand flies to my heart. “Should I be offended by that?”
“No, it’s…” He shakes his head. “It’s nice.”
The knot in my stomach unravels at our banter, the familiarity bursting through me like a long-lost friend. But it’s quickly swiped away by the knowledge that after tomorrow, it will really just be me all alone.
We’ve been at the JR for two hours and I’ve yet to see James.
Maria—who isn’t with us tonight—said he owned the bar, but the longer I sit here without his overbearing presence to muddle my thoughts, the more I realize I don’t actually know anything about him.
Well, that’s not true. I know some things, like he has a ridiculous nickname, and he apparently has so much clout in this town that said nickname is as good as gold. But for someone who says I’m his, I feel like he’s nothing more than a stranger.
How could I be stupid enough not to ask?
“Thanks for saying you’ll cover my shift tomorrow,” I tell Angie, sipping from my sparkling water.
She waves me off, smiling. “No worries. I could use the extra hours, anyway.” Her eyes move past me. “Besides, you’re dating a dude who wears three-piece suits by choice, so I think it’s safe to say I need the money more than you. Oh, and you live in a mansion.” She cackles. “You hussy. God, it isn’t fair.”
The chuckle I force out feels like razor blades, slicing through the sudden tightness of my throat.
She tosses back the remainder of her drink and sighs. “Ugh… where’s your man, girl? Since I’ve gotta work in the morning for your ass, I need to head home. Beauty sleep and all that.”
My insides clench and I glance around, looking for a sign of James anywhere. The bar is thinning out, we’ve been here for hours, yet there’s still no sign of him. My fingers twist in my lap. “He’s probably busy. You go ahead, I can just catch a cab.”
I cringe as the words leave my lips, hoping they don’t sound as pathetic as they feel.
“You sure?” Her eyes scan the room.
“Yeah, he said he would be here.” I nod.
She bites her lip. “Well, yeah, but… he hasn’t even shown his face. I don’t want to leave you here without a ride.”
Reaching out, I pat her arm. “I appreciate the concern, but you really don’t need to worry.”
She sighs, standing up. “Okay, but text me if he doesn’t show up. I can come back.”
I stay at the bar long after she leaves, watching the bubbles pop and fizz in my drink. I could probably get something besides sparkling water—I haven’t been carded since that first night and my birthday is in three days—but the truth is that I’m not a big drinker. I don’t like the way it makes me feel.
“And then there was one.” A voice filters through my daze, and I look up, meeting the amber eyes of Curly. “You want a drink, sunshine?”
“Aren’t you guys closing soon? I’ll probably just go… He’s not here, is he?” I ask, breaking eye contact.
“You’re gonna have to be more specific.” He leans his elbow on the bar. “There’s a lot of ‘hims’ around this place.”
“Ja—Hook.” Unease swims through me as I realize I’m not sure how to address him when I’m talking to other people. Yet another thing that shows I know absolutely nothing about this man.
But I do know it won’t stop me from leaving with him tonight if he shows up.
It may be stupid. It’s definitely reckless. But it’s also exhilarating having someone like him shower his attention on me. Makes me feel less like the picture of innocence, and more like a woman.
Something about the way he stares makes me feel alive.
A laugh to my left cuts off whatever Curly was about to say. My head turns and my eyes take in the curvy raven-haired beauty that’s polishing wine glasses and hanging them on the bar rack.
Curly scowls in her direction. “Cut it out, Moira.”
“I’m sorry.” She smirks, her eyes locking on mine. “You’re really waiting around here for Hook?”
Another dose of doubt creeps into my conscience, pouring through my body like sludge. There’s a smile on her face, yet her tone is anything but friendly, and my hackles rise. A retort is on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it back and nod, my knuckles turning white from how tightly my fingers tangle around each other.
She huffs out another laugh.
“Moira,” Curly hisses.
“What?” she asks, her eyes widening as she looks at him. “You can’t seriously be entertaining this?” Her hand shoots out toward me. “Another groupie showing up who knows nothing about the man, thinking the little innocent act will work? It’s honestly pathetic. You shouldn’t encourage it.”
My jaw clenches, her words battering against my wall of confidence—already shaken from my own twisted thoughts.
“Yeah, well, he knows this one at least,” Curly replies.
Moira’s hand pauses on the rim of the wine glass, her eyes flickering back toward me.
I chance a look at Curly, warmth filling my chest from the way he defended me. From the way his simple words made me feel a little less stupid, a little less like just another dumb girl with a crush.
“Hmm,” she hums. “Well you’ll be waiting a long time tonight, sunshine, because Hook isn’t even here.”
Curly tilts his head. “He was earlier.”
“Well, that was earlier.” A grin sneaks across her face, her white teeth gleaming. “He had me give him a proper goodbye before he left for the night.”
I can tell she’s trying to get a reaction, so I don’t give her one, but it doesn’t stop her words from slamming into my middle, planting roots and spreading their seeds.
“Moira.” A shadow appears behind her, James stepping into the light of the bar. His eyes glint, his black hair tousled like his hands have tugged at the roots. Or maybe Moira’s. “You should know better than to lie to my special guests.”
Her frame stiffens, the polishing rag and wine glass frozen in the air.
“Hook,” she speaks slowly. “You’re back.”
A bolt of satisfaction splits through the cloud of doubt. She called him Hook. Not James.
His head tilts as he stops next to her. “Never left.”
He grabs the wine glass from her hand, holding it up to the light as if he’s checking for smudges. The air grows thick, a few voices from the remaining patrons splicing through the tension, and soft music floating through the speakers. But none of us move. None of us speak.
“Hmm.” He tsks, setting the glass down on the bar top. “Your job is lackluster, I’m afraid.”
“Hook, I—” she starts.
He spins toward her, the move so sudden it makes my breath stall in my lungs. I’ve never seen this side of him before, and while it should put me on edge, I realize the heat brewing deep in my belly is arousal.
“Did I give you the assumption that I would enjoy you speaking of me when I’m not around?” he asks.
Her eyes widen, lips parting. “No, I—”
“No,” he snaps. His eyes flicker toward me, the harshness of his gaze softening. He cracks his neck, running a hand down the front of his suit and gesturing toward the glasses. “These look terrible. Start again, and if there are any spots at the end, don’t bother coming back tomorrow.”
“What?” she scoffs.
But it doesn’t matter because she’s already lost his attention, his eyes zoned in on me as he strides over, a smile breaking across his face.
My mind whirls with the scene I just witnessed, lost between what I should feel and how I actually do. His hand touches the open back of my dress, chills skating down my skin at the warmth of his palm.
Breath coasts across my face, James’s lips pressing softly against my cheek. “Darling, you look edible. I regret wasting my night in meetings instead of showing you how thoroughly I enjoy you in that color.”
Blood rushes to my face, heating me from the inside out.
Call me petty, call me vengeful, but I can’t stop the way my eyes glance to Moira, satisfaction burrowing in my chest at the way she’s watching him touch me and whisper in my ear.
“Hi.” I grin up at him.
“Are you ready to go?” His thumb presses into my bottom lip.
“With you?”
“As if I’d allow you to leave with anyone else.”
His hand encases mine, pulling me from my seat and into his arms.
And regardless of all the things left unsaid between us; all the ways I still need to get to know him, I let him lead me out the door.
