Seasons of Change (7 page)

I’m surprised at his reaction. “Well you’ve changed your tune,” I comment, giving him a playful nudge that doesn’t seem to go any way toward wiping the moody look off of his face. “I thought you were all about me taking compliments?” I ask.

“I am,” Jake admits grudgingly, looking like he doesn’t really know what it is that he’s trying to say. “It’s just the guy should be careful who he’s flirting with when he doesn’t know the whole story,” he explains lamely, not really making much sense.

“Okay…” I say slowly, still not understanding what it is that’s got Jake so worked up.

“I need to take a piss,” he says abruptly, slipping off in the direction of the restrooms without a backward glance and I’m left feeling like I’ve done something wrong without having any idea of what that might be.

I sit staring at the beer in my hand for a little while, wondering what had happen to change Jake’s whole demeanor so quickly and seemingly without any reason.

“Did I get the drink wrong?” The voice comes from next to me and I start a little.

It’s the guy from the end of the bar, and close up, he’s actually better looking than I had given him credit for. Brown hair and dark hazel eyes, along with a charming smile, are a pretty winning combination.

“Should I maybe have gone for something a little more exciting? Maybe one of those cocktails with the teeny-tiny umbrellas in them?” he jokes.

“Oh, no,” I smile, shaking my head, trying to recall all of Suzie’s advice about flirting and failing miserably. “Beer’s good,” is all I can think to say, and I wonder if I sound like as much of a Neanderthal as I think I do.

“Sorry, I don’t want to bother you, but I just could help noticing you,” he says, smiling shyly, and I feel my own mouth smiling in reply. I don’t really know how to respond. “I’m Nic,” he tells me, sticking his hand out to shake.

Automatically, I respond with a firm shake that my dad had taught me was an important first impression. If you have a limp handshake then people will think you’re a walk-over, but
too
firm and it seems like you’re trying to prove a point. A firm shake which doesn’t involve trying to crush the other person’s fingers is a happy medium and I’m pleased to find that Nic’s shake passes the Winters’ test.

“I’m Aimee,” I reply, and raise the beer bottle again. “Thanks for the drink,” I tell him, not sure what flirting etiquette tells me should happen next.

“So, do you come here a lot?” he asks, the cringing expression on his face as soon as the words are out of his mouth telling me that he’s fully aware of how clichéd that sounds.

“Well, there aren’t a whole heap of other places to choose from,” I joke, and we both chuckle nervously.

“So was that guy your boyfriend?” he asks, segueing straight into the reason that he’s come over here in the first place.

“If you thought that he was, then why did you start flirting with me?” I ask, surprised at my own confidence.

“I didn’t. You guys just looked like friends, but then he seemed to get a little annoyed when I sent over the drink so I wanted to check that I hadn’t read the signals wrong.” He shrugs and I’m impressed at his honesty.

“No, your signals aren’t off,” I admit to him. “We’re just friends.” I feel that familiar ache of disappointment as I say the words and wish that they weren’t as true as I know they are.

“Well don’t you two look cozy.” Jake’s says from behind me, and both Nic and I look over at him. “Well Aimee, aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friend?” he asks, an edge to his voice that I don’t like the sound of.

“Jake, this is Nic. Nic, this is my friend Jake.” I make the introductions and try to pretend that I haven’t noticed the hostility that’s radiating off of Jake.

Both men shake hands and I can see from the way that they’re sizing each other up that this is turning into a dick measuring contest and I couldn’t be any less interested. “So, Nic, what’s your deal?” Jake asks, crossing his arms and, if I’m not imagining it, puffing out his chest a little.

“My deal?” Nic repeats, looking between Jake and me as if he’s trying to figure out what it is that he’s missed. I can’t help him as I feel about as in the dark as he clearly does.

“Yeah, what are you doing here? You trying to pick my
friend
here up?” Jake asks combatively, the hostility no longer something that I’m just imagining.

“Jake,” I say to him. He’s really out of line.

“Look man, I didn’t want to interrupt anything,” Nic says, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I didn’t realize you guys were together,” he adds, looking between Jake and me.

“We’re not,” I say quickly, and I ignore the look that Jake gives me. “We’re not together, we’re just friends,” I repeat. “But it looks like my
friend
woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning, so I’m sorry, Nic,” I tell him. I feel Jake quietly fuming next to me.

“No worries,” Nic says uncertainly. “I’ll leave you two alone. No offense intended, man,” he says to Jake, who responds with a curt nod as Nic returns to his position at the end of the bar, signaling for Noah to bring him the check.

“Well that was rude,” I tell Jake, not pulling any punches and rounding on him as soon as Nic is out of earshot.

“Exactly.” Jake shakes his head. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. We were just here having a few quiet drinks and he had to interrupt with his whole ‘Hey baby, can I buy you a drink?’ crap,” he says, as if Nic had personally offended him.

“I wasn’t talking about him, dipshit,” I hiss at Jake, “I was talking about you. You were the one being rude”

“I was just here, minding my own business, having a drink with my
friend
.” The way he says the word makes it sound like he’s questioning the term. “And he’s trying to make a move on you!”

“Right, and can you tell me why that’s made you start acting like a crazy person?” I ask incredulously, amazed that Jake seems to think that his behavior is completely justified.

“Like a crazy person. Huh, right.” Jake shakes his head like I’m the one making no sense and takes a swig of his beer as he sits down on the seat that Nic has vacated. “I’m just looking out for you, that’s all. Trying to keep you away from would-be Casanovas like ‘Nic’,” he says, making air quotes with his fingers around the name.

“Well thanks, Protector,” I say sarcastically, “But I think I can defend myself from charming men who want to buy me drinks.” I laugh, but Jake doesn’t.

“You thought he was charming?” he asks, sounding somehow hurt. I can tell that he’s looking at me now, watching for my reaction, and I don’t know why my answer suddenly seems to be weighted with so much importance.

Rather than looking back at Jake, I take a moment and look around the bar, trying to avoid the question. When my eyes rest on the front door, I catch some movement there and have to do a double-take to make sure that what I’m seeing is real. “Oh no,” I say, letting out a low whisper as I catch sight of a group of people walking into the bar.

“Aimee?” Jake asks, instantly forgetting about the awkward conversation.

He lays his hand over mine, holding onto it tight as soon as he sees that the color has completely leached out of my face.

“What?” Jake asks, spinning around, following my gaze, but he keeps hold of my hand. If anything, he holds onto it even tighter when he sees what I was looking at.

It’s Suzie, but not just her. She’s with a couple of bikers, one of whom is Ryan, and they all look like they’ve been doing more than just drinking.

Suzie doesn’t make any sign that she’s seen Jake and me. Instead she’s led over to one of the tables near the back and pushed into a chair by one of the bikers, which I’m guessing is the one that claimed her.
You always find the nicest guys
, I say to her in my head, wondering if these men that treat her badly are the only type that she believes she deserves.

“I need to go talk to her,” I tell Jake, slipping my hand out from underneath his.

“Aimee,” Jake says to me under his breath. “Don’t do this. Suzie wouldn’t want you to make waves,” he tells me, and I can see the concern in his eyes.

“She’s my friend,” I say, surprised that Jake is telling me to just sit back and not do anything. “She’s
our
friend,” I remind him. “I need to make sure that she’s alright.” I slip off the stool and walking purposefully towards the group of Bleeding Angels, focusing on my friend. I can hear Jake cursing behind me, but I don’t stop.

“Well look who we have here.” Ryan’s head snaps up almost immediately as I approach their table, and even from this distance I can see that his eyes are bloodshot and his pupils are dilated.

“Ryan,” I respond, keeping my voice as even as I can and doing my best to avoid his eyes. “I just wanted to check on my friend.” I nod towards Suzie and take a step towards her before I’m blocked by the tall guy that I’d seen push her into the chair.

“Your friend’s fine, little girl,” the guy says, taking a step towards me so I’m forced to take a move back. I slam into Ryan then, who is now standing behind me.

“Look, I don’t want any trouble,” I tell them, holding my hands up. “I just want to speak to Suzie,” I repeat to the guy, whose vodka-scented breath I can smell.

“Well maybe she doesn’t want to speak to you,
Aimee,
” the guy says, making a point of showing that he knows exactly who I am.

My psych textbook would call it another control tactic, designed to make me feel uneasy that he knows more about me than I do about him. He gets as close as he can to my face—so close I can see the pores in his skin and the fact that he’s lightly sweating, probably as a result of whatever it is they’ve all taken.

“Let her pass to speak to your girl, Elvis.” Ryan’s voice comes from behind me and he’s so close that I can feel the heat from his breath on my neck.

I have to stop myself from recoiling since it would just launch me closer to the other man. I bite back the smart remark that’s on the tip of my tongue when Elvis steps out of the way to let me pass.

I crouch down to Suzie, but her eyes are unfocused and she doesn’t make any sign to show that she knows who I am or that she even knows I’m there. Since her mom had left town, Suzie had turned into a bit of a wild child. I suppose that’s when the two of us started to drift apart.

But this was the first time she’d been with an Angel, and God only knows what she was turning herself into for him. I’d only seen her the day before, but she already looked like someone I barely recognized, dressed in leather pants and a skimpy top that barely holds in her impressive breasts.

“Suze, it’s me. Are you alright?” I ask, lightly shaking her shoulder. After a few seconds she looks up at me, but there’s no recognition in her eyes. “Suzie?” I ask again, getting scared now. “What the hell have you given her?” I stand up and round on Elvis, who looks comically shocked that anyone would question him.

“Only what she asked for, little girl,” Elvis replies, his mouth moving into a lascivious grin which makes my stomach roll. “Why? You want some too?” he asks, grabbing my ass from behind and slamming me into him so we’re groin to groin.

“Get the fuck off of me!” I screech at him, but his grip on me is too tight.

“Are you deaf or just dumb?” Jake’s voice breaks the moment and when I look over at him I can see the anger flashing in his eyes.

“What did you just say to me?” Elvis’s attention is now concentrated on Jake and I can feel his grip on me relax, allowing me squirm away from him, but his hand shoots out and grabs my arm so that I can’t get away.

“Deaf it is, then” Jake continues, folding his arms. “You should really get that looked at,” he says with faux concern.

“Back off, Summers. Go back to your drink, this isn’t any of your business,” Ryan says dismissively, looking at me as he speaks to Jake.

“It’s my business when you start grabbing my friend,” Jake replies. “Now let go of her.” His voice is quiet but menacing and I wonder that I’ve never seen this side of him before.

“No can do, Jakey,” Elvis replies, smiling. “I think she likes it,” He pulls me towards him again. Ryan is watching with hungry beady eyes. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what he's thinking about.

“No girl wears shorts like that without looking for some action,” Elvis leers at me and his cracked lips split into a smile, revealing rows of stained yellow teeth.

“Really?” Jake asks. “Because in my experience, women who want you to touch them don’t look like they’re about to hurl all over you,” he says calmly as Elvis’s face starts turning redder and redder. “So are you going to let go of her or are you going to make me do something that I really don’t want to do?” Jake asks, drawing himself up to his full height, seemingly unafraid and prepared for a fight.