Five

The Holden Restaurant isn't something you would scream from the rooftop about. It's low-key boring inside. From red leather booths to the scuffed-up hardwood floors. It has seen its prime, but the food is fantastic, and I would know; I've been coming here since I started eating solids. The bell above the door jingles when Silas opens it for me and groans as damn near half the restaurant looks up.

"Don't pay them attention, remember." I take his hand and lead him to the back booth, trying to find privacy for him. Maybe The Lucky Dragan would've been better .

"Dimples, it's fine. I'm not gonna let them ruin a good time. Stop worrying so much," he whispers next to my ear; goosebumps pepper my skin from his breath.

I slowly sit, trying to act normal, sliding the menu toward me, ignoring Silas. My dumbass is coming off way too strong, he only just started talking to me, and I had the nerve to grab his hand when all the dicks in this town started staring at him. But I could feel his discomfort; I didn't know what else to do. He didn't pull away from me, so maybe he didn't mind. I'm so far out of my element I need my books.

"Tell me what's good. I have a feeling you're the expert here." He interrupts my dooming thoughts.

"Oh, um. That depends on your mood. They serve breakfast all day, but I usually get the cheeseburger with a poutine on the side."

"Breakfast sounds good. Can never go wrong there." He grins.

I don't know why I'm struggling to strike up a conversation with him now. He spent the entire day working dang near alongside me. You would think small talk would come naturally. I watch Silas play with his cutlery while I find the courage to ask the burning question that has been running through my mind this entire time. I go to open my mouth when Mindy shows up.

"Evening, Teagan." She looks over at Silas and pauses. "And friend. What can I get you today?" Her lip curls in disgust.

I look up at Silas, but he nods for me to go first. "I'll take the cheeseburger and poutine for a side. I'll also get an iced tea. Thanks, Mindy."

"Sure thing, and for you?" She watches Silas like he's some kind of criminal.

He smiles at her as if reading her thoughts. "Mindy, I'll take a stack of pancakes with bacon on the side."

"And what to drink," she cut in.

Silas' head snapped more in her direction, eyes narrowing. "A Pepsi," he spits out,

"Coke fine?"

"Is monopoly money fine?"

Mindy blinked, speechless, leaving me struggling to stifle my laughter.

"Coke is fine, thank you, Mindy." Silas finally puts her out of her misery. I burst into laughter once she walked away.

"You are so mean."

"I couldn't help it; it was the perfect line. You can't say you've never wanted to say it."

"I mean, yeah. But I own a business in this town, so I have to be nice and proper, and I grew up with half of these people, which sucks both ways to Sunday."

He shrugs, leaning back. "Pays off being the fresh meat, Dimples. I can be a cunt, and no one will run off telling my mommy."

This is my chance to ask him. I don't want him to think I'm digging into his past; I'm just curious, and he already knows I grew up here, so he's already one-up on me. Not that it's a competition. My God, now it sounds worse when I think about it.

"Spit it out, Teagan. I can see the smoke coming from your ears."

I chew my lip, and technically, he said to ask it. "Where did you move from, and why, Holden?" The words fly from my mouth before I can rethink them.

He looked away, kneading his neck. He looks back at me, then turns away. Maybe I shouldn't have asked; it's none of my business. We're all allowed to keep things private; Mindy returns with our drinks without saying a word. I guess she isn't a fan of our new resident, either. Silas reaches for his pop and takes a long drink. If this answer is complicated, maybe I won't ask about his family life.

"Short answer." He spoke lowly, staring at his glass. I nod, not wanting to interrupt his thoughts. "Holden wasn't my original destination. Trust me, I wouldn't have picked this shit hole. No offence. "

"None taken."

"I planned on the city, needing someplace bigger. But now that I'm here, maybe it was the smartest thing that happened to me." He raised his eyes and smiled at me, making my cheeks flush with warmth.

I clear my throat and try to regain my head from the clouds. Him and that fucking charm. "Where did you originally move from?"

He presses his lips thin, okay then. "If you get a chance, you should visit the pumpkin patch. The corn maze is a lot of fun."

"I'll keep that in mind," He says, giving me a wink. "I know you have another question. Ask it."

He didn't answer the last question. I doubt he'll answer what his previous job was. He doesn't seem to be very open about his past. I'm not good at thinking of questions on the spot; I only wanted to ask those questions.

"That's all I got. If you want to open up, you will when you want to. How's the food?"

"It's perfect. Great recommendation. Any plans for the night?"

"Probably not. Maybe catch up on some shows, or maybe read. I don't have a fascinating life. You?"

"Oh, Dimples. I don't have a life at all."

I shove a fry in my mouth. "That's not true. You read, that's a hobby."

He scoffs. "Please. I barely own any, so I wouldn't classify it as a hobby. It's more trying to kill time when I'm bored out of my fucking mind."

"Well, anytime you want to work at the shop, you're more than welcome to. I'll never turn you away."

He cuts his pancake, avoiding me. "Thanks, Teagan. That means a lot to me."

Supper with Silas was—different. But different in a good way. Surprisingly, I enjoyed his company, and our conversations weren't forced. It was refreshing. I've never laughed so much before, and now my body is running on a pure Silas high. The mystery of who he is has a chokehold on me. Throughout supper, he kept avoiding my questions. No wonder why Elma wants to chase him around town. I would, too, if I didn't know what boundaries were.

He insisted on walking me home, even though I told him nothing would happen. Holden is the safest town I know, but he wouldn't listen. Is it wrong that I wanted more to happen and that things would've gone further? Who am I kidding, I'm not his type. I'm a bookworm in her late thirties. I'm surprised I don't have a million cats by now. I can't even recall the last time I went on a date, let alone had sex. I'm wondering if I remember how to make a guy come at this point.

Sliding into bed, my mind wanders back to his irresistible smile, and I can tell he's well aware of it. It makes my heart race with excitement. The feel of his hand isn't enough; I crave more. I slowly move my hand under my nightgown and under my panties. Spreading my legs apart, I move my fingers over my clit. The craving for his touch to cover every inch of my body is just the beginning. I wish we could both lie in my bed, a withering mess and be vulnerable. With all our troubles left outside. But those are simply dreams; for now, I'll dream of him this way. With each circle I make on my clit I picture Silas as if he was using his fingers on me, and it's his hand moving along my stomach circling my breast, pinching my nipple.

A quiet moan falls from my lips as I dip a finger into my dripping pussy and press onto my g-spot. My toes dig into the mattress as I picture Silas running his hand through his dark hair; his piercing green eyes look at me with such intensity that I can't help but wonder what's on his mind. Moving my fingers back to my clit, I rub fast, feeling my stomach clench, holding onto the feeling of Silas in my mind. I bit my lip as I explode.

I lay starfish, breathing heavily, not moving.

"Jesus Christ." I made myself come to the image of Silas. How am I supposed to face him after this? It's official, but I've got to ignore him until I lose interest. I'm only fascinated with him because he's new to town, that's all. Give it a few days, and I won't even bat an eye at him.

I try to sleep, but it doesn't come easy; something in the back of my mind tells me something is going to happen. The question is, what? Things have been running smoothly for once, and that can't be a good thing. Chaos is going to erupt, and I don't think I'm ready. I only hope it doesn't happen on Mom and Tot day. That's all I need. Are all these little kids running around the shop when shit hits the fan. But then again, it could happen to the house, or God forbid, to my parents. Why do morbid things come to my mind when I'm trying to sleep?

I swear if Nancy does anything else to ruin me, I won't stand for it. She'll get a taste of the bitchy Teagan. That side of me lays dormant like a volcano and only erupts when needed, and Nancy tests that side almost every time I see her.

After hours of tossing and turning, I finally moved out of bed. The thought of Nancy has pissed me off, and I'll never find the sweet dreams I desire.

I grab a container of ice cream from the freezer and a spoon from the drawer. What else do you do when you can't sleep? You eat. Rocky Road Ice Cream will help this time, or at least it has in the past. Falling on the couch, I grab the remote, find a true crime show and begin my night of research.

Taking my first bite of ice cream, I raise it with a cheers. "Fuck you, Nancy."