Read Chronicles of a Serial Dater - Book 7: A New Adult Romantic Comedy Online
Authors: Adele Huxley,Savan Robbins
He was standing at the end of the bar, leaning against the dark wood watching a TV above. As the door swung shut behind us, he turned. The sleeves of his black, button-up shirt were loosely rolled up his forearms. His dark hair was styled differently, like he’d actually taken a comb to it rather than just run his fingers through. The din of the bar faded away the moment our eyes met. I was vaguely aware of Anette saying something beside me, but I couldn’t understand the words. My gut clenched. I wanted to turn and run, avoid the confrontation I’d both hoped for and feared.
Anette grabbed both my shoulders and slid me forward a touch. “Go get him, tiger.”
Clint straightened as I walked to him on trembling legs. He gave me a crooked smile, a single dimple forming beneath the scruff of his beard. “I see our little ruse worked.”
“Ruse? You…” I glanced to Anette who shooed me with both hands.
Clint grabbed my attention back by holding my hand. “I want to apologize. I…”
“No. I have to apologize to you. I don’t exactly know what I said that night but…”
I stopped as he squeezed my hand. “Please. It’s better if I go first.”
He guided me to an empty table, made sure I was comfortable, and returned to the bar to order us a couple drinks. I couldn’t stop staring at him, like my brain was playing tricks on me. I searched through the crowd for Anette, who surely was watching this all play out like her personal soap opera, but couldn’t find her.
Clint set down two bottles of beer I didn’t recognize. “It’s English, hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. I like English.”
Smooth, Talia.
He picked at the label and seemed to steel himself. “I’m sorry I haven’t reached out to you sooner. I…”
“It’s fine!” I gushed. “I know you’ve been busy with the book and…”
“Talia. It’s really better if I just get this all out in one go.” His firm tone and serious posture gave me pause.
Maybe this isn’t going to be good…
“Okay,” I squeaked. I took a sip of beer to keep my mouth from running.
“The afternoon before that party, a strange letter had been delivered to my hotel. There wasn’t a return address and no information about who it’d come from. Inside the envelope was a single piece of paper with a web address written on it. This was obviously odd and piqued my interest. When I typed it in, I found myself looking at a website called Chronicles of a Serial Dater.”
You know that feeling you get on the first drop of a roller coaster? Or when you lean back in your chair and the balance tips in the wrong direction? Combine both those sensations and that’s how it felt to hear Clint utter the name of my blog.
“Clint, please…”
His eyes flicked up to mine when I spoke but he continued. “I didn’t know what it was at first, or why it’d been sent to me. I read that first post, well, your latest post…” I frantically tried to remember what that could’ve been but he answered my question before I could ask. “Something about dick being abundant and of low value.”
“You said that to me at the party!” I gasped, a foggy memory clearing.
Clint smiled softly and nodded. “I did. You have to understand how that looked to me. When I’d pieced enough together to realize it was your writing, I didn’t know what to think. The person in that blog didn’t mix with the woman I’d gotten to know these past few months.”
I felt like I was going to throw up from embarrassment. Like expertly thrown darts, I remembered posts and confessions like sharp pin pricks.
He knows about Zach. Oh God! He read about…
He touched my arm, presumably because I’d spaced out again. Horrific realizations don’t lead to a lot of focusing. “Sorry. I mean,
really.
I’m sorry you…”
“At the time, I’d only read a handful of things from the site. So when I ran into you at the party and you were…” he made a face and I decided to help him out.
“Ridiculously drunk?”
“Yes, that. I reacted poorly. I made a rash decision removing you from the project. Hell, if I’d only taken the time to read more of the site I could’ve seen the truth. That isn’t you. That isn’t the Talia I know.”
I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with that false realization. “Well, it’s not entirely me, but all those things did happen.”
“I know. I know that now. That’s why I asked Anette to help get you here tonight.”
“Yeah, how did all that happen? How did you get in touch with her?”
“As she was getting you into the cab that night, I gave her my number and asked her to let me know you got home safely.”
My chest warmed at the thought of him caring that much. Even upset with me, he remained a complete gentleman.
“But why here?” I asked, looking around the dingy bar. I felt completely overdressed and I was getting flashbacks to my first Tinder date.
At least I know where to go if I have to run out the back door,
I thought wryly.
“That hike we took out in California meant more to me than… no. I can’t say it properly. Let’s just say that going up there with you erased a lot of the hurt and heartache that place held for me. And after reading through your blog,” he snickered, “I can tell you have a lot of places around here like that.”
I was speechless. I’d always known there was a softer side to him, but he showed it almost effortlessly, like he was accustomed to baring his soul on a regular basis. I couldn’t believe this was the same man who’d rappelled down mountains, jumped out of planes, killed terrorists in the dead of night.
Clint pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket. He slid it across the table, keeping his palm pressed down. His bright eyes were insistent. “Take this, don’t look at it until you’re home. It’ll explain everything.”
I reached out with my own hand. When I drew close to the paper, he captured it and brought my knuckles to his lips. “I’m sorry again, Talia. But hopefully this will make up for it.”
He stood, smiled down once more, and disappeared out the front door before I could respond.
I was still blinking between the door and the paper under my hand when Anette swooped in and took his place beside me.
“What’s it say? What did he give you?” She rocked back and shook her fists excitedly. “I can’t take the suspense!”
I ran my tongue along the top row of my teeth and looked at her quizzically. “You’ve been scheming behind my back for weeks. You don’t know what this is all about?” I tried to sound angry to freak her out, but I think my grin gave it away.
“Hey, I was only supposed to get you here tonight. After that, I’m in the dark as much as you are. So what is it?”
I stared at the paper. “He said to wait until I got home.”
Anette smirked and we both laughed at the same time. A moment later, I pulled the letter off the sticky table and pried it open. Inside was a single web address with a password scrawled beneath. I read it three times but Anette was already typing it into her phone.
“Here! Put in the password,” she said as she thrust the phone under my nose.
“Hopeful,” I whispered as I carefully typed it in.
The site churned for a second before popping up. At the top of the page was the title in big, bold letters. Romancing the Serial Dater. My eyes flew down the page, skipping words and whole sentences to get a feel for what this was.
“What does it say?” Anette groaned.
I realized my cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. I slowed down and scrolled back to the start, reading it all word by word.
Talia. I’m not sure how good of a writer I am without your guidance, but I’d like to think you’ve taught me something over the last couple months. In fact, I know you have.
That hike we took meant more to me than I think you realize. Hell, it means more to me than I think I even realize. That place was once sacred but became scarred. It held wonderful happy memories I thought had been ruined forever. What I didn’t tell you that afternoon is I hadn’t been back to that spot in years. Even now, I’m not sure what possessed me to take you, but I’m so glad I did.
You helped erase the bad memories and replaced them with so many great ones. You really should’ve seen your face when I told you about the mountain lions!
After reading through your blog, I want to do the same thing for you. There are obviously some places around this city that now hold sour memories thanks to a few rotten men. The bar where we met tonight is one of them. I want to explain my plan, so…
.
.
.
The text trailed off like that for countless lines. With my eyes swimming, I scrolled down until I reached the next line.
Actually, rather than write this all out, why don’t you just come outside and let me do it in person. Since I know you didn’t wait until you got home to look at this. See you soon.
I laughed loudly and showed Anette the last couple lines. “He’s outside?” I asked in wonder.
She slammed her hands down on the table as she shot to her feet, trying to jump high enough to see over the heads of the crowd. “I see a horse! Holy shit, it’s a horse!”
With a shaking hand, I gave her back her phone. “I guess this is happening,” I said, the tremble touching my voice as well. She nodded vigorously and gave me a huge hug.
I took a deep breath before I pushed the front door open, fixed my expression, and stepped into the night air. I looked up and down the sidewalk, and then feigned surprise when I saw him standing directly in front of the bar.
“Clint?” I gasped. “I thought you’d left!”
His clever smirk turned into a full blown white smile. “Did you now?” My heels clicked along the pavement as I approached. The passing pedestrians gave us little glances, but most pretended this was an everyday event.
“Need a lift?” he asked, gesturing to the horse-drawn carriage waiting behind. The pure white horse had a bright blue plume of feathers attached to his head, the color matching the top hat of the driver.
I stepped a little closer, taking Clint’s offered hand. “I could just call an Uber,” I replied.
He dipped his head lower, a little conspiratorially. “Where’s the adventure in that?”
We climbed into the back and settled in the seat together. Clint signaled to the driver and we were off, a clatter of hooves on the pavement announcing us to the world. Anette hung out the door of the bar waving like a lunatic.
I was painfully awkward for a few moments. Clint was observant enough to give me a little time to absorb everything that was happening. Twenty minutes ago I’d been operating under the illusion that he hated me, but now…
He leaned over and bumped my shoulder with his. “I thought I’d start at the beginning,” he said quietly.
I looked around and realized we were rolling into Central Park. “The first date I wrote about,” I smiled.
“Now, I don’t know exactly where this guy chatted you up while you were picking up… you know,” he laughed, “so I’m prepared to cover every square inch of this park until you’re satisfied.”
I snuggled in, threading my arm through his and crossing my legs toward him. “I’m already satisfied.”
“Oh good, we can stop here. This isn’t cheap, you know.” He playfully moved to get the driver’s attention and I pulled him back.
“Okay. Maybe a little longer?”
The night wasn’t cool by any stretch, but I thought I could smell the first hints of autumn. The leaves were still lush and green, but it was like they were preparing for a change. The rhythmic
clip-clop-clip-clop
of the horse was mesmerizing. We held hands, talked softly about what we’d each been up to the last few weeks, and watched the scenery.
The coach slowed to a stop as we climbed a small hill. I heard a loud thunder of applause and looked to Clint for explanation.
“We’re a little late. Apparently your friend isn’t very punctual.”
“It was my fault. I dragged my feet the whole…” I spoke as I realized where we were. “This is where they do Shakespeare in the Park, isn’t it?”
Clint’s proud expression was my answer. He leaned forward and handed the driver a folded bill, clapped him on the back and thanked him. I carefully climbed down, feeling like a kid surprised with a trip to Disney.
“I’d hoped to be here for the start, but I think you know the story already. Come on, follow me.”