On the Outside Looking In (Wrong Reasons) (9 page)

BOOK: On the Outside Looking In (Wrong Reasons)
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“Let’s go check out the Shirt Shack,” he said, quickening his pace.  “They have some good ones in there.”

“Evan, my man!”

Somehow, I wasn’t surprised that the heavyset, jolly man behind the register knew Evan, too.  I was beginning to suspect that he spent a lot of time wandering the mall.

“Hey, Ruben.
  How’s it going?”

“Slow, but it’ll pick up,” Ruben replied, rubbing his considerable stomach.  “The holidays are approaching.”

“I know,” Evan said.  “They come so quickly.”

“They do.”

Evan laced his fingers through my hand and maneuvered through the racks of t-shirts.  I was amazed at the selection.  The store had everything from plain white t-shirts to colored to vintage to those with snappy, silly sayings.  Evan stopped at that rack, rifling through all the shirts, stopping when he found one particularly funny to share with me.  I walked around to the other side and began to peruse, chuckling at a few of the clever sayings. He’d find one and hold it up for me to read and I’d do the same until it became a competition between the two of us – who could find the funniest shirt.

Once we’d gone through the entire rack, Evan decided it was time to go somewhere else.  He waved bye to Ruben, promising to come back soon, and led me across the way to Noah’s Ark.

“I love the puppies,” he said, stopping in front of the store window to watch three Maltese puppies frolicking in the shredded newspaper.

“They’re so cute,” I said, smiling at their antics.

“Come on,” he said, nodding at the store.  “Let’s find our favorite and get him out.”

“You can’t just take a puppy out,” I said.

“They let you take one into the little room,” he said, pointing at two closet-sized, glass encased rooms empty of anything but a lone dog toy and a bench.  “See?”

As I rarely shopped at Dalefield Mall, I wasn’t accustomed to this.  “All right, let’s find a puppy.”

We took our time, stopping in front of each pen to study every puppy.  It was difficult to pick just one as they all were adorable.  The yellow Lab puppies jumped on the glass, yipping and barking.  The Yorkie pups cuddled together, each with pink bows in their hair.

But it was the chubby little bulldog puppy at the end, in a pen by himself, that won our affection.  We looked at each other, both of us with dopey grins on our faces.

“Maxie,” Evan called as he spun on his heel, nearly toppling over a display of dog toys.  He righted the rack before it could tumble as an older woman appeared from a back room.

“Evan,” she said with an affectionate smile, reaching into her smock pocket for a set of keys.  “Who do you want to play with today?”

“The bulldog,” he said, pointing over his shoulder.

“Ah, yes.  He’s a popular fellow,” she said as she unlocked the glass door and stepped inside.  She paused by the bulldog pen and unlocked that door as well, reaching in to collect the little dog in her arms.  She returned, gently handing the puppy off to Evan.  “I sure wish you’d take one of these guys.”

“As soon as I have a place, Maxey,” he said, strolling to the little rooms.  I followed, aching to pet the excited puppy.

Once in the room, Evan set the puppy on the floor.  The little guy snatched up the squeak toy in the corner and shook it.

“He’s so cute,” I said as I squatted next to him, stroking his soft fur.  “I wish I could have a dog.  My landlord will only allow cats.”

“Ugh, cats,” Evan said, engaging the puppy in a game of tug-of-war.  “I’m not a cat person.”

“I like cats,” I said as I sat on the floor, petting the puppy while he fought Evan over the toy.  “I love them. But I’d rather have a dog.”

“Me, too.”

We played with the puppy for about twenty minutes before handing him back to Maxey and browsing the rest of the store.  Evan was fascinated with the playful ferrets while I steered clear of the mice, rats, and spiders.  He joked that he was going to buy me a tarantula while I threatened to get him a kitten.

When we left the store, I was surprised to see that it was nearly three-thirty.

“Wow, we’ve been here awhile,” I said after checking the time on my phone and slipping it back into my coat pocket.

“Time flies,” he said, smug, as he took my hand again.  “I should get you home, I suppose. I have a few things to do before my shift.”

I was surprised at the disappointment that shot through my heart.  “All right.”

As we got into the truck, he looked at me with a grin.  “You could come to the bar tonight.”

“I could,” I said.

He laughed as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward my apartment.  Silence filled the truck cab but it wasn’t the least bit awkward.  I stared at the window, reliving the afternoon, until he parked behind the coffee shop.

“Thanks for hanging out,” he said as I unbuckled my seatbelt.

“Thanks for lunch,” I said as I reached for the door handle.  “Strangely enough, I enjoyed myself.”

“See?” he said.  “I knew you’d see my charm if you gave it a chance.”

As I laughed, he leaned over to press his lips to mine.  Surprised, I closed my eyes as something pleasant floated in my brain.

He didn’t press it, just slowly leaned back, his eyes scanning my face for a reaction.

“I hope I see you tonight,” he whispered, a soft smile on his lips.  “I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Okay,” I said as I hopped out the truck and jogged up the stairs to my apartment.

Chapter Nine

 

It took me until seven-thirty that night to decide to go to Rusty’s.  I wasn’t exactly sure what I was getting myself into, but I’d enjoyed Evan’s company all day – what could possibly go wrong?

The lot was fairly empty again, just like on Ladies’ Night, which made me happy.  I didn’t want to fight the crowd for a seat at the bar or be stuck at a table by myself.

When I walked inside, the few patrons already there turned as one to see who’d arrived, then turned back to their drinks.  I didn’t spot a single coed – it seemed as if the older crowd had invaded the bar for the time being.

I scrambled onto a barstool as Evan filled a plastic pitcher full of beer for a group of gentlemen at the other end of the bar.  Once he finished, he filled a glass with diet soda and brought it to me.

“I thought you’d come,” he said, gleeful.

“I was bored,” I said, poking at the ice with my straw.

“Sure,” he said.  “Admit it; you can’t resist my raw, animal sexuality and charm.”

“You’re quite full of yourself, aren’t you?”

Laughing, he stepped back.  “Do you want a menu?”

“No.  I ate at home,” I said, surveying the scene.  “What’s the deal with the older crowd?”

Lifting a shoulder, he grabbed a rag and wiped down the bar.  “They usually hang out until later when the college kids start coming in.”

“And is there a band tonight?”

“No,” he said.  “Not tonight.  Usually only on Fridays unless Rusty has something special going on.”

I nodded, glad.  I enjoyed listening to Out Back, but I wasn’t in the mood for loud music that forced people to yell at each other in order to engage in conversation.

Evan stayed busy, even though the crowd was small, refilling drinks and serving food from the kitchen.  As I watched him work, I couldn’t help but to admire him.  Not only was he handsome, but he had a long, lean body and his vintage tee stretched tightly across his chest, hinting that there might something worth looking at underneath.  No wonder the girls flocked to the bar when he was working.

Between customers, Evan stood in front of me, laughing and chatting, bringing up some of the things we’d done that day. He kept referring to the bulldog as Charlie and threatened to buy me one of the raunchier t-shirts we’d found that day.  I was having fun, enjoying being in his company, and wondered briefly about the little kiss.

As the hour grew later, the older patrons filtered out while the younger set started coming in.  I recognized a few people from campus and was surprised when two girls from my English class sat next to me at the bar, eager to chat.

“Morgan!  I never thought I’d see you here,” said Heidi, a perky girl with hair dyed so many times it was hard to tell what color it actually was.

“Me, either,” replied Jenn, her heavyset, dour friend.  “We thought you were more the studious type.”

I shrugged.  “I like to get out once in a while.  Can’t study all the time.”

“Nope,” said Heidi as Evan appeared to check their IDs and take their order.  With heavy eyes, she smiled at him, a sly curl to her lips. “You know we’re old enough, Evan.  We’ve been here before.”

“Company policy,” he said, handing back her license. “What can I get you?”

“Two Screwdrivers and whatever our buddy, Morgan, wants.”  Her long lashes fluttered as she allowed her nails to lightly scrape his hand while she retrieved her ID.

“I’m fine,” I said, pointing at my glass.  “But thanks.”

“Okay,” Heidi said as Evan turned to the bottles behind him, selecting a bottle of vodka.  “He is yummy, isn’t he?”

“Yep,” Jenn said.  “Tiffany used to date him, remember?”

“Oh, I remember,” Heidi said
, slapping a flirtatious smile on her lips as Evan placed their drinks on the bar.  Heidi removed a few bills from her purse, placing them in his hand.  “Keep the change, sweetie.”

“Thanks,” Evan said, spinning on his heel to punch something into the register and dropping the cash into the till.  He removed the change and tossed it into a large bucket next to the register.

“So, how’s your semester going?” Heidi asked.


Fine, and yours?”

“It sucks,” Heidi said.  “It’s been so boring.  No one’s thrown a great party since the end of last semester.”

“I’m always hearing people talk about parties during class,” I said.

Heidi snorted and took a huge gulp of her drink.  “Yeah, lame parties.  I want to go to a kick ass, huge party.”

“Need anything, Morgan?” Evan asked.  When I shook my head, he flashed a smile.

“I could use a refill,” Jenn said, shaking her glass.  “I’m empty.”

“No problem,” he said as he took Heidi’s glass, too, and made them fresh drinks.  Heidi paid again, tipping very well.

Just as I was wishing that they wouldn’t have taken the stools beside me, Heidi and Jenn put their heads together, watching Evan work behind the bar, and giggling like school girls.  In that second I realized that they hadn’t sat at the bar to talk to me – they’d chosen their seats so that they could flirt with and ogle Evan.  And he was either stupidly oblivious or playing a nice game of hard to get.  I wasn’t sure which, but I was hoping for the former.

As I was keeping an eye on the little scene beside me, someone settled onto the stools on my other side.  Glancing in that direction, my heart fell.  Immediately beside me was a girl I recognized from the diner where Irelyn worked and beside her sat Jessica.

Ugh.

Snapping my head the other way, I prayed Jessica wouldn’t recognize me while I struggled to come up with an escape plan.  I didn’t want to have another ‘enlightening’ discussion with her – especially in Evan’s earshot.

“So, I spent the morning with Irelyn and Bailey, looking at houses,” Jessica said to her companion.  “Bailey’s dad wants to pay for the down payment but Bailey didn’t seem too happy about it.”

“Shit, I’d be thrilled if my parents gave me a down payment for a house,” Jessica’s companion said.  “Did either of them find anything?”

“Irelyn was looking for a two bedroom house to rent,” Jessica said.  “I don’t know why she doesn’t just bite the bullet and buy a house.  The guys are about to sign a contract with a record label.  They’ll be making fat cash soon enough.”

“No doubt.”

“I can’t wait for Spencer to start recording,” Jessica said.  “We never do anything, anymore, except come here or hang out at Bailey’s.  It’s getting boring.”

“Why don’t you guys go out?” the companion asked.

“He’s saving money,” Jessica said, scorn in her tone.  “He wants to move out of his apartment.”

“Did you get a hold of him?  Did you find out why he’s not home?”

“No,” Jessica said.   “He hasn’t answered my texts or returned my call yet.  He must be busy at work.”

That explained why they were here, then.  They must have been at Spencer’s apartment over the bar and when he wasn’t home, they came down here to wait.  Just my luck.

“Hey, Jessica,” Evan said, not sparing me a glance.  “What’s going on?”

“Not much,” she said.  “Give us two drafts, please.  Have you seen Spencer?”

“Not since last night,” he said.

“Okay,” she said.

As I had my back turned, I hadn’t a clue what her expression was, but heard her sudden inhalation.

“Morgan?”

Curse words that I’d never utter aloud ran through my head.  Very much aware of Evan’s eyes on me, I slowly swiveled my stool so that I faced Jessica. 
“Hi, Jessica.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Having a drink,” I said, although I didn’t think she’d consider a diet soda a real drink.

“Oh,” she said, her eyes narrowed.  “Have you seen Spencer?”

It wasn’t hard to miss the suspicion in her tone nor in the glint in her eyes.  I shook my head, toying with the straw poking out of my glass.

“I haven’t seen Spencer since last night,” I said.

“Are you sure?” she asked, practically draping her body on the bar as she leaned past her friend. 

“Absolutely,” I said.

“Okay,” she said slowly, still fixing me with a hard stare.  “Did you go up to his apartment before you came in here?”

I turned to face her fully, my jaw falling.  “No.  Why would I?”

“I don’t know,” she said, waving her arms in the air.  “Maybe because you want him or because you’re desperate – who knows?”

Flabbergasted, I could only gape at her. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” Evan asked, his hands planted on the bar.  His dark eyes, usually so sexy and mysterious, blazed as he looked at Jessica.

“I’m not the one with the problem,” Jessica said, straightening.  She arranged her features into an I-don’t-care mask.  “But Morgan has a thing for Spencer and can’t get it into her head that he doesn’t want her.  She denies it, of course, but she’s practically stalking him.  She shows up when he’s playing and here she sits now, in the bar below his apartment, waiting for him to get home.”

Evan shoved shirt sleeves up to his elbows, revealing bulging veins that matched the one in his forehead.  “As a matter of fact, Morgan hung out with me today and she’s here because I invited her.  If she’s stalking anyone, it would be me and I’m not complaining.”

A tiny smile crept to my lips, but I wasn’t amused.  I was angry.  I was embarrassed.  I was also mute, not able to utter a single word in my defense.

“Really,” Jessica said, shooting another look in my direction.  “Well, believe what you want but, since you’re a friend of mine, I’ll warn you that she’s probably just using you in hopes that Spencer will be jealous.”

“That’s a lie,” I said, finding my voice.  “Spencer is my friend.”

Rolling her eyes, she grabbed her purse off the bar.  “Come on, Leanne.  Let’s find a table.”

After she stormed away, Evan transferred his gaze to me. 
“You all right?”

“I’m fine,” I sighed.  “She’s so full of herself.”

“She is,” he agreed.  “She’s always been that way.”

“Have you known her long?” I asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from Jessica’s accusations.

“A couple years,” he said. “I met her when I came here a few years ago.  She used to hang out with my group of friends until she started dating Spencer.  Suddenly, she got a big head – like she was some socialite or something.”

“I don’t care for her much,” I blurted.

Evan laughed as he took my glass, dumped out the melting ice, and refreshed it.  “Yeah, I figured you didn’t like her.  I don’t care for her much, either.”

“Evan, sweetie, we’re moving to a table,” Heidi said, not looking at me.  “Check on us once in a while, huh?”

“I’ll try,” Evan said.  “But the waitresses take care of the tables.”

Huffing, Heidi and Jenn gathered their things and moved to a table near the empty stage.

“Your fan club isn’t too happy, is it?” I said.

“I used to date one of their friends,” he said as he wiped down the area where they’d been sitting.  “It wasn’t serious but ever since we split up, those two come in here all the time, flirting and stuff.”

“I see,” I said, trying not to laugh.

“It’s not funny,” he said, although he couldn’t contain his grin.  “The whole bunch is annoying.”

“Hey, good looking, how about a beer, huh?”

Startled, we turned our heads to see a pretty blonde, smiling at the bar.  Her hair was clipped in a messy bun, her green eyes sparkling with laughter.

“Ridley Banson,” Evan said, a broad smile lighting his face.  He jogged around the bar to tug the girl into a tight hug.   “How the hell are you?”

“Great,” she said, laughing.  “You seem to be doing well.”

“I am,” he said.  “When did you get into town?”

“About two weeks ago,” she said, settling on a stool.  “I’m actually enrolled at the community college for next semester.”

“Wow,” he said.  Turning toward me, he tugged me off my stool.  “This is my friend, Morgan Taylor.  Morgan, Ridley Banson.”

“Hi,” Ridley said with a warm smile. 
“Nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” I said.  “You two are old friends, I take it?”

“Yeah,” Ridley said.  “We go way back.”

“Where are you staying?” Evan asked as he made his way behind the bar and poured her a beer.

“I have an apartment near the community college,” she said, sipping her beer.  “I’m sharing it with a friend.”

Raising a brow, Evan rested his elbows on the bar, clasping his hands.  “Oh? 
Male friend?”

“Oh, please,” Ridley said, flashing a grin in my direction.  “Listen to this guy.”

I just nodded, my lips pursed.  I didn’t know what I was supposed to say.  My curiosity grew as I watched the two banter and converse.  What, exactly, was their relationship?

“I’m sharing the apartment with a friend of mine from Chicago,” Ridley said.  “We worked together at a club.  I heard a rumor that you were down here and decided to leave Chicago.  It took me awhile to find a job, though. 
And a place to live.

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