Escaping Me (6 page)

“
Hey,” I hear him say.  I close my eyes, not wanting to turn around and face him.  Maybe if I just stay quiet he'll go away.  “It's not nice to steal things.”  I raise my forehead and reach up to feel the sunglasses I apparently just stole.

“
Shit,” I huff as I take them off and start to head back into the store to apologize.  “I didn't mean to—”

“
Relax, Vandaveer.” He shakes his head and holds his hand up to stop me.  “I paid for them.”

“
You didn't have to do that.”  The smile on his face eases my guilty conscience.  “Let me pay you back.”

“
No need.” He walks over to his old Ford truck, complete with tattered teal paint job, and tosses the hammer and nails he just bought in the back.  “It was the friendly thing to do.” He winks.

“
Does that mean we are friends?” I counter.  I mean, he winked for God's sake.

“
Well, we’re not strangers anymore,” he states, pulling open the driver's side door.  “Let me know if you ever want to learn how to use my...
hammer
,” he chuckles as he settles into his truck and fires up the engine.  As he backs out of parking lot and drives away, I feel the fire return to my cheeks as he confirmed knowing what I hoped I’d hidden.  Cole Pritchett knows I am interested in his tool.

Chapter 8 – Cole

Way to go, dumbass.  Just couldn't help yourself, could you?
Apparently not.  When I peeked through the shelves and saw her nervously fumbling with the drill she accidentally set off in the hardware store, I just couldn't fight the urge to talk to her.  I should have minded my business and stayed out of sight until the coast was clear, but I was unable to resist the one thing I know I can't—
shouldn't
—have, so I had to make my presence known.  I half expected her to tell me to fuck off after being such callous asshole to her before.  If I didn't run her off at the bar, I thought for sure when I tried to completely ignore her at her house it would have sealed the deal.  I really hoped I would have been able to just drop off the delivery that morning without seeing her or anyone else in her family for that matter.  I practically held my breath the entire time I was there, only once stealing a glance at her when she thought I wasn't looking.  Unfortunately for me, we keep showing up in each other’s lives.  Small town living.  Everyone knows and
sees
everyone.  I guess the sooner I accept that fact, the better.

I was stunned when she actually followed me to the front of the store and damn near floored when I saw the way her eyes lit up when she thought I was making a pass at her.  To be fair, I was totally insinuating my dick when I offered to teach her how to use tools, but when I saw the shade of red she turned, I decided to let her off the hook.  I shouldn't have talked to her like that.  I would have kicked any other guy's ass if I heard them say something like that to her.  I am pretty sure that if I hadn't told her I was talking about the hammer I was holding in my hand I could have had her in the back corner of that store with my hand up that cute, little sundress she was wearing.

As I drove out of town and down toward the river, I couldn’t get the way she reacted to me out of my head. 
Is this girl actually into me?
  There is definitely some attraction between us, but I can’t rationalize the idea that a prim and proper girl like her would want anything to do with me.  Sure, I’m not bad to look at, but other than that I really don’t have much going for me.  She probably just wants some summer fling with a bad boy to piss her folks off.  So now the big question—do I give in to my better judgment and show her a good time or do I steer clear and save her the embarrassment she'll no doubt feel when the lust-fueled fog lifts and she could see me for the nothing I am?

As it turns out, she didn't give me much of a choice—she showed up at the lumber yard on this afternoon with a picnic basket and a smile.  I heard the crew in the yard whistling and shouting at someone.  Imagine my surprise when I stuck my head out to see her shuffling toward the warehouse—her lean, tan legs looking a mile long in the little shorts she was wearing—I quickly jogged out to greet her, subconsciously placing my hand on the small of her back to let the yokels know that she was here to see me. 

“What are you doing here?” I ask after shooting a death stare at the dude running the forklift. He is practically foaming at the mouth as he stares down her ass.  I can’t blame him, but I can’t stand the thought of him looking at her either.

“
Well…” She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth nervously before pushing the sunglasses I purchased her up on top of her head and giving me a clear view of her baby blues.  “I had to... I needed to do something to repay you for all the nice things you've done for me.” She smiles sweetly as I usher her across the yard to a small patch of shaded grass.  Normally, the guys all gather over here at lunch time, but after the testosterone-fueled glares I gave them in the yard, I am sure they'll find somewhere else to eat today.

“
So, you brought me lunch?” I am really hoping that there is food in that basket.  I've had my fill of greasy pizza and cheeseburgers from the Quick Stop gas station.

“
I did.” She blushes.  “It was the friendly thing to do, right?”  I take a seat, resting my back against an old oak tree and watching as she kneels down and opens the basket.  Her loose, wavy hair spills over one shoulder as she leans forward, giving me a momentary glance down the yellow v-neck t-shirt she’s wearing.  I catch a glimpse of the lacy white bra hugging her tits and I feel my pulse speed.  Oblivious to me, she pulls out a plastic container, takes the lid off, and hands it to me along with a plastic fork before stretching her legs out and sitting down.  As soon as the smell hits my nose, I know it is home cooking—pot roast and potatoes.  I practically salivate into the dish.

“
This smells awesome,” I say before placing the first delicious bite in my mouth.  The meat melts when it lands on my tongue.  I don’t even try to stifle the moan when I swallow.  I can't remember the last time I’ve eaten something that wasn’t from a box or a drive thru.

“
Good, huh?”  She smiles and pops a bubble of gum between her teeth.  Of course she would make even chewing gum sexy.  This girl is going to drive me insane.

All I can do is nod.  I am about halfway done shoveling it into my mouth before I realize she is watching me with an amused grin.

“Hungry, fella?” she giggles as she hands me a napkin and a bottle of water.

“
I guess so,” I laugh.  “Haven't had anything this good to eat in a while.”  I set the food down before I embarrass myself any further and turn my attention to her.  With her hands resting on the ground behind her, she is laid out in front of me.  I wonder if she knows how hot she looks with the cool breeze blowing through her hair and the way that t-shirt accents her chest.  It is like having my own personal centerfold.  And even though this one is fully clothed, it has the same effect.  Just the thought of reaching out and touching her makes my dick twitch.  It is in that moment that I decide to just go with it.  If she wants a summer of fun with me, who am I to tell her no?  “So, Whitney, you came all the way out here just to bring me lunch?”

“
Yep.” She casually tosses her hair over her shoulder and brings her legs toward her, sitting up to face me.  “Actually, I came out here to ask you something.”

“
Okay.”  I am definitely interested in what she has to say.  My hopes are high that it is along of the lines of the proposition I spouted out to her a couple days ago.

“
Well, here's the thing,” she starts. “In case you hadn't figured it out, I'm not a local.  I'm staying here this summer with my mom.” 
Here we go.
  The summer fling proposition I was waiting for.  “I've pretty much gathered you aren't from around here either.  I asked around about you and the only one who seemed to know you was your friend, Zeke.  He's the one who told me when you had lunch.”

“
You don't say.”  I'll have to thank Zeke for hooking this up later.

“
Yeah, you're a bit of a mystery, Cole Pritchett.”

“
Well, you must be intrigued,” I joke.  I am glad she found me.  I can’t believe I even tried to stay away from her.

“
So, I was thinking…you don't know many people and I don't know many people.” She hesitates. 
Don't be shy now, girl.
  “I was thinking that we could give this whole
friends
thing a whirl.”

Did I hear that right?
Yep.  Friends.  Perfect. 
Fucking perfect. 
My initial reaction isn’t great, but when I see the nervous smile on her lips start to fade as she waits for my answer, I know I’m not going to be able to tell her no.  She probably could have asked me to set her up with Zeke and I would have told her yes.  Alright, well, that's a lie.

“
Why do you want to be friends with me?”  I can understand if she wants me to be her booty call, but friends is a whole other level.  That may involve actually getting to know each other as opposed to just casually sleeping together.  “I'm not the kind of guy people want to be friends with.”

“
Oh, I don't know about that,” she replies quietly.  “You've been pretty nice to me... so far.”

Do I tell her that I usually end up running off my friends with my bad attitude?  I generally end up in a fistfight with my guy friends, and I can honestly say I've never had a girl who was just a friend.  I prefer to hang around girls for one reason and one reason only.  The same reason I thought Whitney came here in the first place.

“I'm not really a good friend,” I warn.

“
How about you let me be the judge of that?”  She sits up and leans toward me.  When she places her hand on mine, I know it is useless to try and not give in.  “What do you say?  Friends?”

I shrug.  “I guess so.” I laugh.  “Who else is going to stop you from stealing things and pick your ass up when you pass out?” I ask her.  She laughs.  A sound I can definitely get used to.  “This food isn't hurting your case either.”  I pick up the container and take another bite.  “Keep feeding me and I'm yours.”

“I can do that,” she agrees, leaning back and nodding her head.

Chapter 9 – Whitney

“
He actually agreed to be friends,” I reveal to my sister as I stalk into the barn.  “Can you believe that?”  My plan backfired.  I was really hoping that, when I mentioned being friends to Cole, he'd tell me he was interested in being something more. 

“
Why didn't you just ask him on a date?” Mallory pipes up as she finishes wiping down the refurbished mirror my mom would be hopefully selling at the flea market this weekend.

“
That's not how I operate,” I huff, taking a seat on an old church pew.  “He's supposed to ask me out.”  Right?  The guy is supposed to make the first move.  This dating thing is hard.  Wesley and I kind of just fell into in.  He never really asked me out—more like told me—and that was way easier.  I was the most popular girl at school and he was the most popular guy—it made sense.

“
I think you've watched too many episodes of Mad Men.  It's not the 1950's, Whit.  If you want to go on a date with him, just ask him.”  The way she is so nonchalant about asking a guy out just reminds me how much cooler my sister is than me.  Even though I want to be strong and independent like her, I don’t know how.  I've spent way too much time perfecting my “do as you’re told” mentality.

“
I can't,” I confess.  “Besides, I kind of had to twist his arm just to be my friend.  I don't think he's interested in me like that.  I'm sure he's got plenty of options with girls a lot more exciting than me.” 

“
Whatever you think,” she says and shakes her head.  “It's okay to go after something you want. You know that, right?”

I tell her I do, but as I walk back into the house, I wonder if it’s true.  Don't get me wrong, I was in love with Wesley, but I started dating him because it was the way things were supposed to be.  I followed him to the college he wanted to go to and I chose a major my dad thought was a good idea.  I didn't mind having decisions made for me.  It made things easier and I really didn't know any other way.  Now that I am out here in the middle of nowhere with no one to tell me what to do, I am kind of lost.

After I watched Cole devour the meal I took him, which was pretty cute in itself, he mentioned having a drink after work with Zeke and asked me if I wanted to join them.  He seemed a little hesitant, which only reiterated the fact that he wasn't interested in being my friend in the first place.  He was just doing what he'd been doing when he picked me up off of the road and bought the sunglasses I had stolen—being nice.  I shamelessly took him up on the invitation because I wanted to be around him.  Even if that means tagging along like a lost little puppy. 

The short amount of time that I've spent with him has only intensified my interest in him.  He is funny, sarcastic, and mysterious.  Even though he said people don’t usually want to be friends with him, I found it hard to believe.  I am the proverbial moth to his flame.  I want—
need
—to be near him and find out everything I can.  On the outside, he has the whole tough guy thing going, but I can tell he is more than that.  I decide I will do my best to be his friend and hide the fact that I really want more to save myself the embarrassment of having him reject me.  Besides, I am only here for three months.  That really doesn’t leave us much time to become anything more than friends.  I'll take what I can get.