Forget You Read online

  “I was in shock for what seemed like forever, watching as he brushed at his forehead with the palm of his hand in slow motion. I remember Sheila grabbing my arm, and jerking me away. We flew down the stairs with David shouting obscenities after me. I wasn’t sure if he attempted to follow me or if he’d just stood there like an idiot. I never looked behind me. Instead, I just ran with Shelia. We made it to the hotel across the street, and she booked me a room for the night. After David had finally passed out later on, she brought me my suitcase. I called Cam, and he was there first thing the next morning to pick me up.”

  “Wow,” Paige gasped. “That’s insane.”

  I nodded. “I know. And just like with Craig, Cameron beat the shit out of David.” I smiled, and poured myself another glass of wine. I’d have to cut myself off after this one if I wanted to be able to drive home in a few hours. “I’m betting David will never forget me though, because I’m pretty sure with as hard as I pushed that freaking cigar into his forehead, it had to have left a scar. Eye for an eye and all that, right? Or in this case, a scar for a scar.” I smirked, and walked back to the couch.

  “You’re like my freaking hero, I swear,” Lauren boasted. “You’re bad ass, Eva Bennett.”

  “Thank you.” I tilted my head to the side, and toasted my glass to the air. “To being bad freaking ass.”

  “I’ll toast to that!” Lauren agreed.

  Raising our glasses, we toasted and then crumbled into a fit of laughter. Picking up the bag of chocolate from on the coffee table, I unwrapped a piece, and popped it into my mouth.

  “So, this guy is better than Keith or David is pretty much what you’re saying, right?” Paige grinned once we’d all contained ourselves.

  “Hell yes.” I nodded.

  “He better be,” Blaire said. “Or else I’ll have to show him just how badass I can be.”

  Tears ran down my face, I was laughing so hard. Blaire was a studious bookworm; she was as far from badass as any one person could be. Obviously, that comment had been the wine talking.

  “He’s much better,” I said. “Don’t worry.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  SAWYER

  My parents’ dinner had been fun, but there was a level of sadness hanging over the entire thing. Everyone wanted to be happy for me, but at the same time, they all were still sad because we were down one Keeton.

  Sitting beneath the cloudy night sky, I sipped my cold beer in secret. Generally, I wasn’t a drinker. A beer or two on occasion was fine by me, but I wasn’t one who enjoyed getting smashed time and time again. What was the point when it made you feel like shit the next day?

  The sliding glass door behind me opened and closed quickly. If there was any warmth from inside the house that managed to sweep out with whoever it was, the cold air of the night swallowed it up too swiftly for me to feel. Wes’s boots came into view beside me. A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips at the sight of them. Wes never wore boots. He was more of a year-round sandals type guy, but this fall had been colder so far than all the years previous combined.

  My theory on this was that the world was just as sad and pissed off by the loss of Ryker as the rest of us, and this was its way of letting us know.

  “Are you sneaking a beer out here like you’re fourteen again?” Wes chuckled. He moved to sit beside me on the steps off the back porch.

  “Yeah.” I held the bottle up so he could better see it, and gave it a slight shake. “I’m still scared to death of Great-Aunt Martha.”

  This was no joke. Great-Aunt Martha was a serious anti-drinking and driving person. While we all understood the dangers of it, she knew firsthand. When she was in her late fifties, a drunk driver had slammed into her minivan. The accident had killed her best friend, Claudette, and had broken her back, rendering her legs immobile.

  “I don’t blame you, man.” Wes shifted around. He pulled a lighter from his front pocket, and popped the top on his beer off. “Mitch just made the mistake of telling her he’d only had one and wasn’t even close to being buzzed yet.”

  Shaking my head, I shifted my beer from one hand to the other. The cold was getting to me; my hands were freezing. “What a dumbass. He should know by now she doesn’t care to hear any excuses.”

  “I know, right?” He chuckled. “She ran his foot over a few times after she said she didn’t give a damn.”

  “Sounds like something she would do.” I laughed.

  Taking a long swig of my beer, we lapsed into an awkward silence. A harsh wind blew through the yard cold enough to make my eyes water.

  “Damn, it’s cold out here.” Wes shivered.

  “Supposed to get down to like twenty-one tonight,” I muttered.

  Weather. We’d resorted to talking about the weather at my fucking graduation/welcome home party. Awesome.

  “Too cold for me.” Wes tipped his beer back, and then picked at the sticker label with his thumb. “How’s your shoulder? Mitch and Tim said something about you biting it out on the track today. You know, you should really think about having someone out there with you when you ride.”

  I shifted to glare at him. “None of us ever have before. I don’t see why we should all have this sissy pact now.”

  “Sissy pact?” He shook his head and dropped his stare, the corner of his mouth quirked into a small smile. “God, you sound just like him sometimes.”

  I swallowed hard. Maybe I had said those words because of that reason, because I knew it would have been Ryker’s reaction to the whole thing. We lapsed into heavy silence again. I finished off my beer, thinking of how I needed to head home and go to bed. This had been a crap day, and all I wanted now was for it to be over.

  “I think I’m gonna head home.” After finishing the last sips of my beer, I stood. “I’m beat, and I’ve got to go in early tomorrow.”

  “Which is why I still work at the movie theater. No early hours, free movies, and unlimited popcorn,” Wes said, toasting his beer to the sky.

  I rolled my eyes, and headed toward the sliding glass door. “You’re talented. I’ll give you that. Most of us couldn’t manage to live off minimum wage and twenty hours a week. More power to you, man.”

  Wes laughed. He knew I was joking with him. The funny thing was, even if he thought I was ragging him, it wouldn’t have mattered, because to him those words were a serious compliment.

  Stepping inside the warmth of the house, my hands began to tingle and I realized how cold I’d actually been while outside. The sadness that pressed against me heavily before I’d decided to step foot outside was now gone from the energy of the house. My mom’s laughter floated to my ears as my Great-Aunt Martha said something about her Depends underwear.

  Strolling through the house, I made my way to the living room where everyone seemed to be congregating now that they’d all eaten. Passing by the wall clock in the kitchen, I took note of the time—8:49 p.m. I tossed my empty beer bottle in the trash just as my dad came into the kitchen.

  “I saw that.” He smiled. “You’d better be glad it was me and not Great-Aunt Martha. She’s already run over Mitch’s toes more than once.”

  “Wes told me.” I smirked. “It was only one, but we all know how little the amount matters to her.”

  “Care for some dessert? Your mom made a key lime pie for you.”

  Even though I wasn’t in the mood for dessert, I couldn’t turn down Mom’s key lime pie. It had been a longtime favorite of mine. In fact, I had it every year on my birthday instead of a regular cake like everyone else.

  “Sure, I could go for a piece.” I nodded. “After that though, I’ve got to head home. I’m opening tomorrow.”

  Dad went to the fridge, and pulled out the pie. “Are you enjoying working at Bruce’s?”

  “It’s not bad.” I shrugged and pulled two paper plates out from the cabinet for us.

  Bruce was a friend of my dad’s, who owned a local men’s clothing store called Sharp Suites. I’d quit my job as a stocker at Harrison’s
Grocery when I went into basic training. For whatever reason, I hadn’t thought it was fair to Mr. Willard to have to keep my position open for me when I came back. My thoughts were I could always find something else when I returned. When I came back, my position had been filled, and they had nothing else for me. Dad had asked around town a few weeks before I came back and found me the job at Bruce’s place, selling suits and ties. In a town the size of Coldcreek you wouldn’t think there would be a high demand for such things, but there was.

  “Good, I’m glad to hear it.” Dad cut a large piece of pie for me, and then one for himself. “I’m proud of you, son, just so you know.”

  “I know, Dad.” The words came out in a strangled sort of whisper, and I cleared my throat.

  Taking the plate from him, I handed him a plastic fork, and then all of our mushy talk and male bonding ceased as my mom’s famous key lime pie took front and center in our minds.

  * * * *

  Dreams of seeing Ryker crashing on the wicked bend in slow motion, and me struggling to get to him, but never being able to, kept me tossing and turning all night. I woke drenched in sweat, wondering if going to the track hadn’t been the best idea. Maybe it had been too soon for me.

  After I lay there for a while, I finally decided to get up. There were only two hours until I normally would wake to go for a run anyway. I slipped out of bed, and padded through my dark apartment toward the living room. Switching on the TV, I watched the last two recorded episodes of The Walking Dead I had, and then changed into my running clothes.

  I turned on my iPod and cranked up the volume up on the Dubstep station I loved listening to. I didn’t even take a moment to stretch. Instead, I barreled down the concrete sidewalk at full speed, hoping to outrun the nightmares still churning through my mind, and the emotions attached to them.

  When I made it back to my place, I was dripping from exhaustion and my mind was swimming with thoughts of Eva. I had nearly forgotten about our date. She would be expecting something unique, or at least fun, after the first date I’d randomly created for us.

  This time, I was going to have to get a little more creative though. I needed to step it up a notch.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  EVA

  Do you like going to the mall?

  I reread Sawyer’s text a million times, wondering where the joke was within his question. We had a date tonight. There was no way he was planning on taking me to a mall, which was so high school. Then I remembered going to the arcade and making s’mores over a candle flame while overlooking the highway.

  Shit, maybe the mall was going to be our next date after all.

  Yeah, but the closest one is in Carver. ~ Eva

  Norhurst was a college town while Coldcreek was a standard, cookie-cutter small town—there was no mall in either. Carver, the next town over, had a mall, but who wanted to drive there and go shopping for a date?

  Awesome. That’s where we’re going for our date tonight.

  Apparently Sawyer. Great.

  Should be fun. ~ Eva

  Slipping my cell back into my apron pocket, I scooped up the baskets of wings and fries booth four had ordered, and made my way over to them. Smiling, I set their food down and asked if they needed anything else, all the while thinking solely of Sawyer’s date destination for tonight.

  What. The. Hell.

  Mindy bumped me with her hip as I walk past her toward the kitchen. “Hey, what’s with the constipated look on your face?”

  “I’m not constipated.” I frowned. “Just confused.”

  “About?” She refilled a pitcher of sweet tea, and grabbed a pile of napkins from the counter.

  “I’m going out with Sawyer again tonight.”

  “What’s so confusing about that?” She smiled.

  “At first, he said the date would be a surprise. I was fine with that, but then he sent me a text asking if I liked going to the mall.” I grabbed some straws, and crammed them into the front pocket of my apron to busy my hands. “Why would we go on a date to the damn mall? I just don’t understand why he has to create these immature dates for us. I mean, why can’t we do stuff that’s more…normal?”

  “Normal sucks. You’ve done normal before, right?”

  “Yeah, numerous times, and you’re right, it does suck.” I bit my bottom lip. “But, juvenile dates can’t continue to go well either.”

  “Says who?” She eyed me.

  “Me. I’m not a humorous, life-is-so-fun type person.”

  Mindy arched an eyebrow. “I haven’t known you for long, but I can totally see that. Maybe it’s time you loosened up some. Maybe the dates Sawyer plans are just the kind you need.” She pointed at me to emphasize her point.

  Mindy walked away with her words of wisdom still lingering in the air behind her. I scoffed, and picked up the check I’d prepared for table two a little while ago. Yeah right, like I was going to take dating advice from someone shacking up with Wes Keeton every night.

  * * * *

  Sawyer was at my apartment ten minutes early. I was beginning to see that either he was on time or early, but he was never late. This was a good thing, considering I’d dated guys who were sometimes two or three days late for dates in the past.

  “Hey,” I greeted him as I opened my apartment door.

  He smiled, and nodded. “Hey yourself.”

  There was something about his glittering blue eyes and broad, beautiful smile that made me grin even wider. He was dressed in a pair of light-colored jeans, brown shoes, and a thick blue jacket that was zipped high enough to expose a patch of his brown and white stripped polo beneath. He looked good, real good.

  “Come on in.” I motioned for him to step inside, and out of the bitter cold. “Let me flip some lights off, and grab my stuff.”

  “Take your time.” He crammed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I know I’m here a little early.”

  After scooping my purse and keys up off the kitchen counter, I flipped a few light switches, and walked toward him. “I’ve noticed that about you. You’re never late; you’re either early or right on time.”

  “You’ve noticed that about me, huh?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I know we’ve only hung out a couple of times, but I’m willing to bet that’s you in a nutshell—always on time.”

  “This is true.” He grinned. “The only problem I’ve found with being punctual is that, generally speaking, there’s no one ever there to appreciate it.”

  Pulling on my jacket over the outfit I’d bought at Paige’s Closet, I chuckled. “I can see that being an issue.”

  As we stepped outside, I locked the door behind us. My stomach knotted as we made our way to his car. To say I was nervous about how much fun this date might not be was an understatement. No one had taken me to the mall on a date, ever.

  Climbing into Sawyer’s car, my exposed skin met the lingering warmth that had been trapped inside. I was glad, because it had to be around twenty-five degrees outside.

  “To Carver we go.” Sawyer smiled.

  “Right,” I said, unsure of what more I could say.

  Sawyer backed out of the parking space, and shifted into drive. As we pulled onto the street, I was grateful there hadn’t been any accumulation of snow or rain lately, because if so, there would be no chance I’d go on a road trip to Carver. It wasn’t that Carver was far away; it was that I didn’t drive in the elements well.

  “So, I figure once we get to the mall, we can grab something to eat from the food court,” Sawyer said, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “All right.” I shifted to glance out my window.

  Yay, nothing better than food court food, especially on a damn date.

  Before long, we were searching for a parking space outside the mall. Once we finally settled on one near the Belk entrance, we climbed out and walked inside.

  “What do you feel in the mood for?” Sawyer asked as soon as the food court came into view.

  “Um.” I skimmed the
neon signs hung above the little restaurants. “I guess pizza.”

  “Sounds good.” He unzipped his jacket, and started in the direction of the green awning for the pizza place.

  An Asian woman with a tray of breaded meat on toothpicks asked us if we wanted a sample as we passed her. I shook my head, and politely declined.

  “Good call. You never can tell if what they’re offering is beef or fried cat.” Sawyer placed a hand against the small of my back, and steered me around the crowd of people toward the pizza place.

  “Or who has walked past and sneezed on them,” I added.

  He chuckled. “My thoughts exactly.”

  Once we ordered our pizzas and found a place to sit, I calmed down some. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as horrible as I’d initially thought. The loudness of the place made any awkward silence between us seem bearable, and the food was good.

  “So, what are we doing here exactly?” I asked after finishing half my extra-large pizza slice.

  Sawyer took a sip of his water, and locked eyes with me. “I wanted to do something a little different. Have you ever heard of a mall dare?”

  My eyebrows knitted together. “Mall dare? No.”

  “Well, when I was in high school, my brother would drive me and a few friends here at least a few times a month. We’d spend hours doing stupid dares and keeping score of them. When we were ready to leave, we’d tally up our scores, and whoever lost by the most points would pay for beers on the way home. My brother had this wicked awesome fake I.D. that he used to buy the stuff.”

  There was a sense of nostalgia lighting up his face as he spoke of the memory. I enjoyed seeing this side to him more than I cared to admit. The idea of a mall dare captivated me completely.

  “That’s hilarious! I’ve never heard of doing something like that before,” I said.

  “It was pretty fun.” A wistful look flickered across his face. I noticed then that he always got the same look whenever he mentioned his brother.