9. Everything I Touch

NINE

EVERYTHING I TOUCH

Into You, Ariana Grande

Roe

Cara, babe, why are you talking to Saint?

The fact that my brain is going haywire over Cara talking to this guy is fucking with my life more than I would like to admit. The fact that I keep calling him Saint in my head is also obnoxious. And if I’m being completely honest, I am also irritated at the fact that—for some unknown reason—I can’t seem to shake the feeling that he is watching me. And worse still, I want to keep looking at him.

Cara leaves his table, and he starts eating and not paying any attention to me. Not that I want his attention. It feels like he is taking over Baker Oaks. Everywhere I turn he is there, waiting. I have been able to avoid him so far, but he can’t take Ronnie’s too. The track was enough.

I’m holding my iPad trying to finish drawing some tattoos for today, but I can’t focus. My brain is scrambling at the fact that he is sitting right there, and I can’t stop looking. Almost like that called to him, he looks up and his eyes meet mine. I refuse to look down first, so I don’t. We are in the middle of a staring contest now, and if he thinks this will be an indication of the type of racer I will be, game on. I do not give up, I do not back down.

We’re in the middle of our staring contest, Saint’s eyebrows raised and his eyes not leaving mine when I feel a presence next to me. And I swear, I don’t want to look but this is getting to the point of being ridiculous. He won’t stop looking at me, and I won’t stop either, regardless of who’s standing next to me.

“He’s a pretty sight, I’ll give him that,” Cara says with amusement in her voice.

I hate that I am about to lose whatever game we are playing but I have to look up at her. As soon as I move my eyes to hers, I hate it even more, because the smile on her face makes me feel like I was caught red handed, big time.

“I want to murder him with this butter knife, I don’t care how pretty he is,” I mutter back.

She chuckles and places my plates on the table, adding, “And what did that handsome boy do to you for you to want to kill him? Do I need to add him to my shit list?” She sits across from me, placing her hands under her chin and giving me her full attention.

Cara is one of the kindest people I’ve met here. She comes back to town during the summers in order to help her parents, who own Ronnie’s. I don’t think she works much when I’m here though. I’m a huge distraction and we just have girl talk. I wish she could live here full-time because I think we would be closer friends. But I get to enjoy her for the time she’s here. She’s not only hilarious, but she’s also kind and truly cares about others. Hell, about everyone. She’s good company and I don’t say that lightly. I usually hate being around people but there’s a handful of tolerable ones and she’s one of them. She might be kind, but she also has zero filter and will tell you how shit is without concern of what others might think.

“Nah, not shitlist. He’s just racing against me in the same class this season, and on top of that, he goes to the same track,” I say, taking a bite of my biscuit.

“To SMX? How? He’s new here.”

“The fuck would I know? All I know is that he was at Saddlers on Saturday, at the track Sunday, and on my running path Monday. And now, he’s here on Friday.”

“Is he stalking you, Roe?” she asks, concern apparent in her eyes.

“No, babe. You should’ve seen his face when he saw me riding his bike at the track. He was white as a ghost.” I giggle, taking a bite of the bacon.

She smiles, wiggling her eyebrows at me. “I bet he wanted you to ride something else, too.”

“Shush. I think he sees me more like a fragile little thing—like everyone else — and he pulled the whole broody, big-guy card at me at the trail too. The you shouldn ’ t be running alone bullshit,” I say, mimicking his voice.

“I mean, he can keep me company anytime.”

“You can have him. He’s all yours,” I scoff, waving my hand.

“Nah, hard pass. I’m not in the business of getting in the way of my friends getting laid. And that, right there, is a man that wants to get in your pants. Plus, I’m kinda seeing someone,” she adds.

“Who? Please don’t tell me you’re seeing Cole again, Cara. That guy is just stringing you along.” The look on her face tells me that I hit the nail on the head.

“I’m just here for the summer. We’re just having fun. I’d tell you to do the same, but we both know that you’re the queen of fun around here,” she says sarcastically, getting up and telling me she needs to get back to work.

Why do I have to fuck up everything I touch? I add a note on my iPad to text her later to apologize for not minding my own business when it comes to her and her man. She says they’re just having fun, but from what I know, they’ve been on-and-off since they were in high school. Nothing serious ever comes from it and Cara is older than I am. I can’t imagine being intimate with someone for most of your life and still not knowing where they stand, at almost thirty. Reason #250 why I don’t do relationships. I don’t have time for that when in the end; it’s all ashes either way.

I can see the sun shining through the window and the liveliness of the people walking around. It’s a perfect summer day. Then why have I been in the crappiest mood since I woke up? I thought the run and comfort food would fix it, but clearly not. I’m running out of options here so maybe banging the brazen hottie looking my way will fix it.

I finish my food, leave cash on the table, and walk over to him as Cara is removing the plates from his table. She eyes me up and down, smiles at me, and winks. Passing me she whispers, “Go get him,” hopefully low enough that only I heard her.

I sit across from him, throwing my bag into the corner, and placing my hot cocoa on the table. “Saint,” I say, looking at him.

“Couldn’t stay away, princesa?” he asks with a grin, and fuck my life, he has a dimple. On top of the gorgeous skin, the tattoos, and the damn dark eyes that pierce straight into my soul, he has a dimple.

“Funny, I was going to say the same about you. It seems like you have taken over my town.”

“Your track, your trail, your town. Do you own the bar too?” he tsks, crossing his arms on top of the table and lowering his head so he’s eye-to-eye with me.

“Actually, I do.” I sip on my hot cocoa without dropping my eyes. “You see, Baker Oaks is a small town and even though I don’t own it, or my trail as you so fondly said, I belong here, and you don’t. You stick out like a sore thumb.” Shit. That was harsh, even for me. The whole ‘Let me run with you’ shit has been messing with my brain more than I care to admit, whether he’s doing it on purpose or not. My guard, usually up regardless, is currently sky high, making bitchy Roe come out to play. “I don’t understand what brought you here and why you think that you can just take whatever you please.”

“What did I take, huh?” Shit, shit, shit. He’s hurt, I can see it. “All I did was try to exist in your sweet presence. Yeah, maybe I overstepped a little, but I didn’t do anything to get this treatment. I’m a gentleman, so I won’t fucking snap at you, but how about you just stay in your lane, and I’ll stay in mine?” He gets up and walks past me, lowering his voice saying, “Stay away from me, Roe. I mean it.”

He leaves Ronnie’s and I feel like an enormous bitch. I did not need to say that. Ugh. I drop my head on the table and hear footsteps coming near me. I know it’s Cara with her I told you so face but I don’t want to deal with her right now, so I ignore her.

“You know, just because you don’t see me doesn’t mean I don’t see you. What did you do?”

I mumble that I fucked up under my breath with my face still on my arms.

“Bitch, I can’t understand what you’re saying. Get your head up and spit it out,” she says, tapping my head like an annoying little sister

“I fucked it up, that’s what I did,” I reply. I look at her and she has the same know-it-all face I was expecting so I don’t know why I’m so annoyed by it. “I came over here to try to sass him into leaving with me but instead I was a fucking bitch and he left. Respect to him though for not letting me treat him like shit.”

“Stop being hard on yourself, Roe. If you want him, go after him.”

“I don’t chase men, Cara, and you know it. I also don’t think I want him. Do I want to get laid? Yes. Do I think he’s easy to look at? Also yes.” Easy to look at? Just plain delicious but I’m not going to say that. My body has been humming for a week just with the thought of his rough hands on my body last weekend. “But I won’t chase him. If I see him again, I might apologize though because I haven’t been the mean girl that I just was to him in years and I’m not going to start being her again now.”

I stand up, grab my bag, and wave goodbye to Cara. “See you soon, babe.”

“See you soon,” she replies. She sounds disappointed that I’m not going after him right now, but I can’t let myself go down that rabbit hole. What was said was said but I can try to be nicer next time, I guess.