Text Appeal

“What do you think?” asks Shanti.

We’re standing next to the bar later that night. It would seem I couldn’t stay home after all. What can I say? I am a weak and lovelorn woman dying for the sight of him. And kind of wanting to kick his ass too for breaking my heart, but that’s beside the point.

This is my first official social outing as a single person. Apart from coffee runs, of course. I had no idea the Lighthouse Bar and Grill did such a roaring business during the week. They host a variety of events. Karaoke, trivia, and such. And a charity bar crawl happens the first Saturday of the month when a hundred or so locals do a walking tour of the six bars in town. The order in which the bars are visited and the charity donated to is alternated each time. It sounds great.

“They sure are serious about their Jenga,” I say, taking a sip of soda.

“So serious. You have no idea.” Shanti laughs. “Here we go.”

Joyce, the Jenga judge, blows on her whistle. “We want a nice clean game. No hitting, no hair pulling, and no putting your competition in a headlock.”

Someone in the crowd boos.

“I heard that, Tommy,” says Joyce. “Am I going to have to call your mom and tell her you’ve been misbehaving again?”

A shame-faced middle-aged man answers, “No, ma’am.”

“Just as well.” Joyce blows her whistle again. “As I was saying, play nice or you’re out. Yes, I am looking at you, Emma. I don’t care if she is your sister. There’ll be none of that nonsense this week, young lady.”

A woman around my age sneers and flexes her fingers. The game might be Jenga. But the vibe is pure cage match to the death. I think the person standing on the other side of the giant tower of wooden blocks is mouthing something to her opponent. But I am not at quite the right angle to see what. Given the response from her opposition is to scratch her cheek with her middle finger, whatever she’s saying isn’t complimentary.

“Are you sure I can’t make you something special on the house?” asks the bartender. His name is Billy and, as my mom would say, he is cute as a button with his buzzcut and fade.

“No.” I smile. “Thank you.”

“Give it up,” says Shanti with much disdain. “She’s not interested.”

Billy shrugs. “She might be later.”

Shanti makes gagging noises. “The one downside to living in a small town…no…make that one of the many downsides to living in a small town. Being unable to escape your exes.”

“That was a long time ago,” says Billy.

“Not long enough for me.” Shanti puts her back to the bar. A definite statement made in body language. “Speaking of which, have you run into him yet?”

“Connor?” I ask. “No.”

She just nods.

I haven’t told her about my conversation with Lulu. To be honest, I am a little embarrassed to be standing here. But the lure of the man is intense. And it is about time for me to get back out there. No reason not to have a drink in my very local bar. It doesn’t have to mean anything. Mostly.

“You need me to give you a ‘you’re better off without him and he doesn’t deserve you anyway’ type speech?” asks Shanti. “Because I have a few at the ready. You know. Just in case.”

“No. But thanks for the offer.”

“Your loss. My motivational speeches are immaculate.”

I smile. The expression feels a little strange to me. Like I haven’t done it much lately.

“Connor is one of the good ones. But it doesn’t mean he doesn’t make mistakes,” she says. “When you get right down to it, relationships are complicated and messy and we’re probably better off without them.”

“Probably.”

Her head goes up suddenly. “Which also doesn’t mean you don’t want and deserve some sweet revenge. Billy. Psst. Come back here.”

“What,” he asks, slinging a cloth over his shoulder. The surplus of handsome men in this town has definitely been noted. My mood when it comes to romance, however, remains at an all-time low. Subterranean when you get right down to it. Or possibly lower.

“Riley’s changed her mind. She is charmed by your offer and will have one of whatever you’re making. Now.”

His smile is wide as can be. “Yeah?”

I give him a thumbs up. As the bartender gets busy, I ask, “Shanti, what’s going on?”

“Don’t look, but Connor just walked in with Stu, Lu, and Nic. I said don’t look!”

I stop myself from turning. Just. “Sorry.”

“Nic told me they might make an appearance. But I didn’t want to unnecessarily alarm you unless it was definite.”

“Oh,” I say, and it’s honestly all I’ve got. Even knowing this might happen, I somehow manage to be totally overwhelmed and underprepared.

“Who else is here tonight?” Shanti scopes the bar.

“It had to happen sometime, right?”

“Right,” she says in a perfunctory tone.

“This is a small town. We were bound to cross paths sooner or later.” I take a deep breath. “Wait a minute. Did you invite me out tonight because you knew he might be here?”

“Eh,” she says with her cell in her hands.

“That’s not much of a response. Who are you texting?”

“A strange thing happened on Monday.”

“Does it involve baked goods?” I ask.

Shanti frowns. “No. Why on earth would it involve baked goods?”

“No reason. Keep going.”

Her fingers keep typing on her cell. “Ava started a group chat with Nic and me. Now Nic generally gets on with her okay, but Ava knows I am not her biggest fan. So this sort of thing has happened approximately never.”

“What did she want?”

“She and her girlfriend had to head back to Europe for work. And since she was leaving town, she wanted our help with something.” She slips her cell into her back pocket. “She had a theory she wanted to test discreetly.”

A lean man with long red hair and tattoos approaches and asks, “Is this where the speed dating is happening?”

“It absolutely is,” says Shanti. “Noah, this is Riley. You have a minute to interest and-or impress her. Go.”

Before he can open his mouth, I ask, “Are you the Noah that left his bride at the altar, subjecting her to what was undoubtedly a boatload of embarrassment a few summers back?”

“Yes.” His pale skin blazes bright red. “But I can explain…”

I just wait.

“Actually, I can’t really, I panicked and ran. Gabriella still won’t talk to me, and I miss her so bad. You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve apologized, but she won’t listen.”

“That sure is a sad story. Good night, Noah,” says Shanti. “He was just a warmup. Good work on dispatching him so quickly. We don’t usually do speed dating in town because it’s just the same dozen or so people who keep turning up. But Ava was most insistent that we make an exception for you.”

“Let me guess, she wanted Connor in the room while this was taking place?”

“She sure did.”

“Guess it was Nic’s job to lure him here tonight, huh?”

Shanti nods as another speed date approaches.

He is Asian American with a perfect fit. A gray polo shirt with a knee-length navy pleated skirt and black loafers. The man is stylish and gorgeous and then some. But he takes one look at me, before turning and searching for Connor in the crowd. He then turns back to me and gives me a wink. “Yeah. I am not getting in the middle of that. Best of luck, Riley.”

“Thanks.”

Shanti just grins. “Have a good night, James.”

Plenty of people are watching. Apparently, both me and the Jenga are entertainment here tonight. But there’s a certain pair of eyes on me. It’s like I can feel him from across the room. I will not, however, meet his gaze. We decided to give each other some space. How I behave tonight will set the tone for us post fake relationship and hookup. I am not saying he’s nothing to me. That would be a heck of a lie. But I refuse to act like he’s my whole world. Like I am a heartbroken mess. The messy truth of the situation can stay undercover.

Thank fuck I put in some effort for this outing with my navy linen vest with matching pants and sandals. I am not falling apart after our six-day dalliance. Not in public, at least. You have to save that sort of shit for home.

“What’s going on? Why am I getting a notification from socials that we’re hosting speed dating here tonight?” asks Billy, placing a drink in front of me. The contents of the tall glass are orange and red and garnished with a slice of orange. “This is my version of Sex on the Beach, Riley. It’s what I am famous for, if you know what I mean.”

“You truly are a trash fire. This drink, along with whatever you’re insinuating, is not even remotely what you’re known for around town,” says Shanti. “As for the speed dating, don’t worry about it. I’ve got it under control.”

Billy frowns. “But—”

“Diane and Paul are waiting for service. Better be quick if you want to catch that big tip.”

“Shit,” says Billy, giving me a final longing look. And then he is gone, which in all honesty is probably for the best.

I take a sip of the drink. It’s quite good, sweet and fruity. Curiosity over what happened between Shanti and Billy is driving me wild. But I doubt she wants to discuss him, given the verbal shredding she keeps delivering to the man. So instead, I say, “Ava said fresh meat would cause a feeding frenzy.”

“She was right. Posting on socials was me throwing the chum in the water.” Shanti downs some of her beer.

A Black man with a beautiful smile approaches, but Shanti waves him away. “Go and sit back down, Darius. This one is not for you. Off you go.”

He frowns, but does as told.

“Ignore my cousin,” she says. “Who else do we have here tonight?”

A cry of despair comes from over at the Jenga table, followed fast by the sound of wooden blocks crashing to the ground. The crowd goes wild, and more than one exchange of money takes place. Betting on bar games is a thing here apparently.

Joyce blows her whistle. “Emma! I said no headlocks!”

“We’re trying to make Connor jealous, huh?” I ask, taking a sip of the cocktail.

“Yes. Ava has a theory that he just needs a little push.” Her smile is less sadistic this time. “Hello there, my darling Lulu.”

“I can’t believe Mom won’t let me stay home alone.” A set of headphones are around the teenager’s neck and her expression is set to unamused. She turns to me and says, “So you decided to come, huh?”

“I was thirsty and there was nothing to drink in my apartment.”

Lulu snorts.

“Riley, tell me something.” Shanti grins. “Did you know he might be here?”

“Maybe,” I admit with a frown. “Yeah.”

“Uncle Con’s been paying me to leave food at her door. Stuff with vegetables hidden in it like she’s three.” Lu groans. “I can’t believe they’re playing Jenga. This town is so boring. Later.”

“Well, well, well. Seems like someone does still care about your malnourished ass.”

I just shrug. “Who knows?”

Shanti’s eyes light up and she says, “Now here’s the thirst trap we need. Hey there, Angus. Good to see you.”

I don’t swallow my tongue. But it’s a near thing. Angus is a lumberjack wet dream come to life. A modern-day Viking come to pillage the single locals’ hearts and minds. We’re talking Calvin Klein underwear model levels of hotness. From his crooked smile to his ridiculously buff body. His dark hair is back in a man bun and a neatly trimmed beard lines his square jawline.

“I heard something about speed dating?”

“You’ve come to the right place,” says Shanti. “Angus is a local and his interests include the hiking club and Kurosawa film nights at our local cinema. Riley is a writer who recently moved to Port Stewart and enjoys long walks on the beach and cheese.”

“Cheese is important.” He gently shakes my hand in his big handsome paw. ’Tis a pity my heart is spoken for. Having this dude smile down at me with such warm regard is a lot. He smiles and asks, “What do you write?”

I am not going to lie. My days of hiding what I do are done. “Romance.”

“Romance?” His thick brows go up in surprise. “Huh. Do you enjoy that?”

“Yes.”

He releases my hand and gives me the weakest smile in existence. “Do you think you’d ever consider writing something different, Riley?”

“Why would I do that, Angus?”

“No reason. I was just curious. So…” Which is when he looks past my shoulder and up. Like someone is standing behind me doing a little looming. The way Angus’s body language freezes up. “Hey, man.”

“Is something wrong with her writing romance?” asks Connor.

“No. Absolutely not.”

I clear my throat. “Are you sure about that? It’s just that it would be such a shame if you were basing your opinion of the genre on misogyny and inherited outdated opinions. I mean, I assume you haven’t read a cross section of the genre recently and know what you’re actually talking about, right?”

“Right. Good point.” Angus’s gaze jumps back and forth between me and Connor.

“Just walk away,” says Connor.

Angus nods and disappears into the crowd. An impressive feat for a dude that size.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him over my shoulder.

“Getting a drink and watching the Jenga.”

“No. What are you doing standing directly behind me while I attempt to speed date?”

He grunts. As if that’s an answer.

“Connor?”

“Well, he was speaking shit about your work and—”

“No.” I shake my head. “You were on the other side of the room. There’s no way you heard what he said to me and came over on a rescue mission. Try again.”

With a heavy sigh, he grips me gently by the arms and turns me around to face him. The bruises on his face have changed color. Black and blue have faded to green and yellow. Though the dark ones beneath his eyes from lack of sleep are new.

I thought the days apart had helped to put some distance in the situation. But nope, that was nonsense. I still want to stare at him for days. Write him bad poetry and dedicate my books to him. Sit on his deck and stare at the stars. Lie in his bed, wrapped up in his arms.

Shit.

This man is so unhealthy for me. Looking at him gives me an arrythmia. My skin starts to sweat and my throat hurts. Lucky for me, I live across the street. I can be out of here, away from him, and hidden back behind a locked door in under two minutes. One if I run and don’t mind risking death due to not looking both ways before crossing the road. And right now that actually seems like a very sensible idea.

“I thought we agreed not to date other people,” he says in a low and angry voice. “For credibility.”

“What?” My turn to scoff has come. And scoff I shall. “I never said that.”

“Then maybe we should make it a rule.”

“Not a chance.”

A muscle jumps on the side of his jaw as he stares down at me. He seems to be attempting to control me by the power of his pretty blue eyes. But no. Not happening.

Some guy beside us says, “Is this where they’re doing the speed dating? You’re Riley, right?”

We don’t even break eye contact. This has somehow become the staring competition of a lifetime. I say, “Sorry, I am busy.” And Connor says, “Get lost, Shane.”

Shane exits posthaste.

“Why did you send me food?” I ask.

“Because breakfast cereal, ice cream, and cheese isn’t a balanced diet, Blue.”

“We agreed you wouldn’t call me that.”

He steps closer, getting right down in my face. “Maybe I’ve changed my mind and decided to disagree.”

“Oh. It’s much too late for that. Why are you here?”

His mouth slams shut. It wouldn’t surprise me if he locked it and threw away the key. All of our work on communication. He has gone and thrown it away.

My blood is boiling. I honestly don’t think I have ever been this angry in my life. It’s the only excuse I have for shoving him. Just pushing my palms against his chest and yeah. Not that it moves him much. “Why are you here, Connor?”

He grunts.

“Answer me, you fucking caveman,” I yell at him.

And he shouts back, “He had no business holding your hand.”

The room has fallen silent around us. Not a sound can be heard. Even the music seems to have stopped. But whatever. This is between me and him.

I cock my head. “Why do you care who holds my hand?”

“Did you tell them you were leaving town? Seems like the kind of thing you should share.”

“Oh, I am not going anywhere.”

He pauses. “What?”

“You know you never even asked me? Just jumped to conclusions. But I am not your ex, and I am perfectly happy right where I am.”

“If she’s so happy, why is she shouting?” asks someone. Which is a solid question. Though they’re quickly shushed by the crowd.

Connor on the other hand just stands there in silence. Not a word is said. Something I don’t mind since I have yet to share all of my thoughts with him. My moment to monologue has come.

“We talk a lot about happy, don’t we?” I ask. “But I was honestly happier with you than I have been with anyone. I felt more for you than I have for anyone. Which is ridiculous when you think about it. Six days. Just six.”

His jaw shifts moodily from side to side. However, his mouth stays shut, and my heart keeps breaking. So many pairs of eyes are on me. Feet are shuffling in the awkward embarrassing silence. It all needed to be said, but having this conversation in public…yeesh. As much as I love Port Stewart, this town sure has a way of putting me in my place.

Someone clears their throat. My shoulders fall and my back bows. I must be a sure thing for this year’s town fool. Noah and Brian will be relieved to know they’re no longer in the running.

“But none of that matters since you made the choice not to be with me,” I say, taking a deep breath. “Go back to your side of the room, Connor. It’s time for me to get on with my life.”

His arms hang at his sides, but he’s stretching out his fingers as if there’s something he wants. If only he could just grab hold. “Blue…”

“What? What do you want, Connor? Do you even know?”

His nostrils flare and his gaze is hyper focused on me. Like he can see inside my heart and head and read my intentions. But his words still don’t come out. I don’t know what he wants and perhaps I never will.

“Say it,” someone urges from the crowd. I think it’s his brother Stuart.

Time for me to give up. Again. And this time I am definitely not turning back to him. Because how many times can you suffer public humiliation before heading home and going into hiding for the rest of the year? Seriously.

People stand aside, making a path for me to leave. One step after the other. I just need to get out to the street and breathe some fresh air and get my shit together. And I am almost at the door. Thank goodness.

“I am not ready to feel all of this,” he finally says from behind me. His voice sounds like he’s forcing it out through gritted teeth. “I can’t do this again so soon. And it’s bigger with you and I just…I can’t do this again.”

Ugh. My feet freeze at the sound of his voice and I turn around. It’s not like this news is a surprise. “Okay.”

“Then you’ll wait a while?”

“No. I wish I could. I really do. But you’re breaking my heart here, Connor. There’s no way I am dragging this pain and uncertainty out any longer. That’s not something I can do.”

His lips thin-line.

“You know, if I felt less for you, it would be fine. It’s a compliment, really.”

Still nothing from him.

“I am going to leave now. We’re not talking about this again and I am not going to change my mind. Maybe sometime in the future we can give being friends a go. But we won’t be together like we were. It’s over, okay? Guess we both need to make peace with that.”

He blinks and there’s this stunned sort of disbelief in his gaze. Followed fast by the realization that I mean it. Every word. I am not his ex, and we won’t be getting back together sometime in the future. It’s sad and it sucks. But I have to move forward without him. Without this hurt.

It feels like someone has pried my rib cage open, ripped out my heart, and let it bleed all over the floor. What a mess it’s making. Falling in love is the worst. Especially when it’s not unrequited, but they’re not ready either. What can you even do with that? Nothing. Not a damn thing.

I try to smile, but it doesn’t stick.

He just stands there staring at me.

Right. This is done.

I don’t even manage a single step. It’s like he’s grown wings. He rushes me, wrapping his arms around me, holding me so tight I can barely breathe. With his face pressed against my hair, he keeps saying something. It takes me a minute to figure out what. Then I get it.

“I love you, Blue. I love you. But I can’t love you alone. You’ve got to stay with me.”

“What? Connor?” I soothe my hands over his broad back. It’s hard to gain traction with how strong he is. My face is half squished against his chest and I can hear his heart thumping a frantic beat. “Hey. Look at me.”

Ever so slowly, his arms ease their hold. “I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“Then don’t.”

“Okay.” He cups my face in his big hands. It takes a moment for the fear in his gaze to ease. “You’ll stay with me? We’ll work it out together?”

“If we’re doing it together? Then yeah.”

The tension in his shoulders gradually releases and his eyes search my face. “I love you.”

“You said that.”

“I meant it. Just in case you were wondering.”

“Thank you.” I am not going to cry. “I really needed to hear it. And I love you too.”

“That’s nice,” says someone.

Someone else hums their agreement. “So much couple’s therapy in their immediate future, though.”

“Yes,” answers Joyce. “But they’ll be okay. Love can work wonders. Just you wait and see.”

“Shut up everyone, please.” The corners of Connor’s lips curl up in the best way. “Blue, we’re going to be okay, right?”

“Yeah.” I smile back at him. “We really are.”

The cacophony of noise when the Jenga tower fell can’t compare. His mouth slams down on mine with the kiss of the century. My hands fist in his shirt. Not that he is trying to go anywhere. But I can’t get close enough to the man and he definitely feels the same.

Rain on a tin roof or front row at a rock concert can’t compare to the noise the crowd is making. We damn near bring the roof down on the over-a-hundred-year-old building. And neither Connor nor I could care less.