17. Less Broken

SEVENTEEN

LESS brOKEN

I Like Me Better When I ’ m With You, Lauv

Roe

Me: When are you leaving? I want to see you before you go. This whole waiting a full school year to see you is for the birds.

Cara??: I have three more shifts before I go. I’m in today if you want to come.

Cara??: And you know, you can always call me, Roe. We don’t have to not talk for ten months.

Me: Where’s the fun in that?

Cara??: Bitch, your life is so much better when I’m in it and you know it. Come in soon so we can talk before it gets busy.

Me: Word. I’ll be in after my shower.

Cara??: YASSSSSS

Cara’s about to leave again to spend the school year in Chicago. That girl is such a gentle soul and even though she says that she comes here so she can stay away from the children , I think that’s just something she adds to go with her personality. In reality, I don’t think anyone else was born to be a teacher more than her.

She’s chaotic but in a vastly different way than I am. She’s more of a ‘ray of sunshine’ girl than a ‘fucked up by life circumstances’ girl like myself. She’s fun, dependable, and a good friend. Everyone in town loves her. And the girl is stunning. Put that together with her personality and body, and she’s a total smoke show. Why she has been strung along by that jackass of a man that she sometimes calls her boyfriend is beyond me.

In the summer, I usually spend my mornings at Ronnie’s after my run; second breakfast if you will. But since Saint was feeding me breakfast all of last week, I didn’t see her at all. I only get her for two months so I try to make the best of it. I may not have a lot of friends, but I prioritize the ones I do have, even if I do keep them at arms’ length.

Speaking of Saint, he didn’t show up today. Not that I miss him or anything, but it was definitely an inconvenience having to make myself something to eat. I went on my run with just peanut butter crackers and half a banana in my stomach which made me feel queasy, so I only ran three miles. My whole body still aches from this weekend and maybe it was dumb of me to push some more but I was so close to winning, I can’t back down now.

After I shower, I make my way to Ronnie’s and claim my usual table. I order the same thing I’ve ordered for as long as I can remember: perfect French toast bites, biscuits, bacon, and eggs. Cara always hands me the menu like I’m going to change my mind, but I won’t. Why fix something that’s not broken? I never finish the entire meal, but it’s the perfect mix of flavors to keep my happy and doing my food dance while I nibble on it throughout the day.

“Your food will be right up, babe. Want some coffee?” Cara asks, placing a cup of water on the table and tossing me two straws.

“When do I ever drink coffee, Cara?”

“I know, I know. One of these days, I’ll convert you. It doesn’t hurt to ask.” She walks away after she blows me a kiss. I shake my head. Nobody should be that cheerful this early.

I pull out my iPad from my backpack, unhooking the pen and swinging my feet onto the bench. Art has always been an outlet for me. As a child, part of my therapy was to use creativity to show my feelings. Very early on I learned that words weren’t going to get me anywhere, but maybe art would. Drawing, painting, thrifting to renovate, sewing… all of it makes me feel more whole. Less broken.

When my grandma died, and I was left all of her money, I knew I never wanted to work for someone else. I already loved bartending so it was easy to figure out that I wanted a bar. Just like that, Saddlers was born. This tiny ass town was giving me hell because I was barely twenty-one, but it really wasn’t up to them. It was legal, I had the money and the means, so I opened a bar. But I needed something else to do. I got bored quickly and I felt like my fingers were itching to have an artistic outlet. I went to a tattoo convention, connected with people, and a year later I became a tattoo artist.

I still didn’t want to work for someone else so I opened my own shop. The town again had issues with what I wanted to do. I really just wish they would leave me alone. But no, they had to say something about my tattoo shop, too. Thankfully, it’s working and running smoothly. And now it’s my favorite place.

As I work on some doodles on the iPad, my body tingles with awareness. When I look up, I find midnight eyes staring at me. My body hums just looking at him. I can’t help remembering all the ways he made me feel this weekend. I wish I could quiet the noise in my head and tell my body to get a grip. I tried so many times yesterday to make myself forget about his hands and tongue all over my body and the way he fucked me to oblivion but it was futile. No man has ever made me feel like that. Usually, I have to help myself to finish if I even climax at all. Not with this man. And now, apparently , I’m broken.

Cara catches her ponytail and talks to him cheerfully, touching his hand lightly and making him smile wide at her. He gives her his full attention, and she just laughs before walking him toward the back in my direction. I lower my gaze because I almost got caught watching them with a deadly stare. I can hear Cara telling him to take his time with the menu. Her voice is way closer than I’d like and when I look up, I see her standing by the booth next to mine. I look at her but I can’t find it in me to smile. She winks and turns around, walking toward the kitchen as she leaves me looking at a deliciously hot Santiago. He’s sitting directly across from me, holding my stare.

He smiles at me before looking down at the menu and suddenly I feel like the shittiest person on the planet. Grabbing my stuff, I walk to his table and sit across from him. He doesn’t look up from the menu and that stings more than anything. Because once you know what it’s like to have his attention solely on you, like you’re the last drop of water in a drought, you don’t want anything less.

“I can feel you staring at me, Roe,” he says with annoyance in his voice.

“I figured you could use some of your own medicine,” I snap back at him.

“And what is that?” he asks, not looking up once.

“You know, just staring, no talking,” I reply, taking a sip of my water. Smooth, Roe, so much for apologizing.

His brows furrow before closing the menu forcefully. Looking up, his eyes scan me, showing his irritation. He sighs in frustration; his indecision is palpable and I want to flee because being under his scrutiny is impacting me more than it should. I wish there were another way to describe how he’s looking at me. His gaze looks hungry and it feels dangerous. I don’t know if it’s the deeper tan on his skin from the weekend at the track or his onyx eyes that are lighting every inch of my soul on fire. Is it the way the olive Henley accentuates his body? Or is it his hair–dark, shiny, and smooth? The perfect complement to the whole look? This man has a choke hold on me and I want to squirm just looking at him. I hate it .

“Roe, did you have something to say? If not, excuse me, I would like to order some breakfast.”

“I’m not stopping you, pretty boy, go ahead and order,” I snap back. After this weekend, my walls are twenty feet tall. I’m not going to let him see how his mere presence affects me, but for some damn reason, I also can’t stay away.

He calls Cara over with a nod and she’s there, smiling at us both knowingly. She takes his order and leaves after tracing her fingers over his shoulder. I know she’s purposely flirting with him and I’m seething in my seat. I’ve never been possessive or jealous, especially since I don’t go steady with anyone, but every time he smiles at her hair tosses or flirty smirks, it makes me see red.

“Saint,” I say, short-fused and irritated.

“Aurora,” he replies, short and sweet, sipping on coffee.

“You didn’t show up this morning,” I growl because I finally was able to pinpoint exactly what has been bothering me. Other than the thought of him with someone else, but that’s something to unpack at a different time.

“Oh, is that what this is about? Some expectation you set without telling me?”

“Well, excuse me, you showed up every day last week without me saying anything. So yeah, I was taken aback when you didn’t come this morning.”

“I thought you said you were independent, princesa. That you didn’t need anyone to save you. Isn’t that what you said?” he jests, bringing his hands under his chin.

“Agh, you’re so difficult,” I snap, smacking my open palm on the table. “I’m trying to apologize here.”

“Apologies usually begin with a ‘sorry’,” he says with a smug smirk and the damn dimple appears.

I hate him. “You make it impossible to do so.”

“Then don’t. I didn’t ask for an apology nor did I expect one. Do you even know why you’re apologizing?” He takes another sip of his coffee and puts both hands back under his chin. “If you’re finding it so hard to do it, surely you don’t even?—”

“For being a bitch,” I interrupt. “I’m sorry, okay? You’ve been nothing but nice to me and I’ve been snappy for no real reason. I can see that you didn’t try to take me out of the race on purpose.”

“I didn’t take you out of the race, Roe. You finished second and I already told you, I didn’t know you were behind me. Accidents happen,” he replies.

“I know, I know, okay? I’m sorry. I’ll try to be more chill from now on and stop snapping at you for every single thing. Truce?” I ask, holding my hand in front of him.

He chuckles and shakes it reluctantly as Cara approaches with our food.

“Sorry it took so long, babe,” she says as she places my plate in front of me. “The kitchen was backed up. Enjoy.” She skips back to the front of the restaurant, leaving us alone with our breakfast and our thoughts.

Saint has a plate of hash browns, eggs, and— what the hell? Salad? “Who eats salad for breakfast?” Shit, I guess I said that out loud .

He chuckles, grabbing his fork and knives and cutting his tomatoes into smaller pieces as he answers, “I hate vegetables but if I force myself to eat them in the morning, my body craves them the rest of the day.”

“Smart,” I say.

“Nah, more like my mom yelled at me enough for not eating my greens that I had to learn a way around it.”

“You would think that someone with your body is a health junky.” My filter is apparently broken today.

“And you would think that someone as small as you wouldn’t eat as much as you do, yet here we are,” he says, pointing at the giant breakfast in front of me.

I smirk. “Fast metabolism.”

“Good genes,” he replies, touching his abs and winking at me. Instantly wet, great.

We eat mostly in silence and when it’s time to pay, Saint takes both checks from Cara, placing his card on top without looking at her once.

“I can pay for my own food, Saint.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean you should,” he says.

“Why shouldn’t I?” I ask, annoyed because if this jerk is going to talk about this being a date, I might kill him.

“Un caballero siempre paga? 1 ,” he says.

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll learn one day.” He takes the check back from Cara, signs his name, and gets cash out of his wallet to leave a tip. He thanks Cara and then gets up, stepping back to let me go in front of him. I’m usually all for fucking the patriarchy and ignoring chivalry but these small gestures are making my heart warm in ways that it’s never done before. I’m not sure if I love it or hate it.

I walk in front of him and his hand caresses my lower back. I practically jump at the touch. He immediately recoils but is quick to open the door for me, allowing me space. How does this man who barely knows me read my body so well? He knew that his touch was unwelcome and didn’t even ask or push it. It’s nothing against him but my brain can’t handle too much input sometimes, and the way his hand felt over the fabric while applying pressure on my back was not what I wanted at that moment.

“Hey, do you have any plans today?” I ask, trying to offer an olive branch.

“Nah, I’m off today,” he replies, standing by me on the sidewalk and putting his hands in his pockets. “What do you have in mind?”

I smile at him and start walking, hoping he follows, and by the beachy smell invading my senses I know he’s right next to me.

1 ? Un caballero siempre paga: A gentleman always pays