He gets out from his side of the car and, in an instant, he opens my door, his body blocking my escape. He is massive, taking up the entire opening of the door. He looks sturdy, too; it would take a lot of effort for me to push him out of the way and run.
He leans in close, closer than I’m expecting. I catch a whiff of him again, smoke and cedar—it’s intoxicating in such close proximity. Without my mind’s consent, I close my eyes and take a deep inhale. He clears his throat, and my eyes fly open to find a smirk on his face, heat creeping up my neck from embarrassment.
“Remember, princess, no funny business.”
Before I can say anything, he takes my hand and leads me toward the diner. My body feels like a live wire with his close proximity. Hand in hand, we look like a couple out on a brunch date.
The bell to the diner chimes as we walk inside. Stepping in, a wave of nostalgia hits me. The diner still has its original charm. Rows of red leather booths line the sides, their vinyl cushions slightly cracked but still full of charm. The floor has the original black-and-white checkered floor. The smell of frying bacon, fresh coffee, and butter sizzling on the griddle hits my senses, making me forget why we were here in the first place.
“How many?” a perky waitress says, walking our way. She looks too pretty to be working at the diner. She reminds me of my friend Jade, a striking elegance of a runway model and legs that go on for days. At five-four, I was always a little jealous of her height. When she wore bell-bottom jeans, she looked like she’d just stepped off a runway. Meanwhile, I looked like Humpty Dumpty who stepped off the wall.
“Actually, where’s your restroom?” I blurt out, shifting on my feet, really feeling the push on my bladder now that I am standing still.
“Oh, the second door on the right,” she replies, not meeting my eye and blatantly staring at my captor. I’m notgoing to lie, he does look insanely attractive with that skeleton neck gaiter covering half his face. Like he walked straight out of a dark romance novel. His emerald eyes are on full display, and dark curls of his hair look soft and touchable, but that doesn’t give her the right to ogle him with me standing right here. A surge of unwelcome jealousy washes over me. I don’t know why, it’s not like I’m dating him. I really need to refocus on the fact that I’m here against my free will and not excited to be getting breakfast with this tall and broody guy.
“I’ll be right over there.” My captor points to the closest booth to the restroom hallway.
I rush off like my pants are on fire. I need to relieve myself like a toddler after three boxes of apple juice. I make my way down the hallway toward the single person restroom. As soon as my butt hits the seat, my heart sinks. OH MY GOD, the universe hates me. What kind of bad karma did I accumulate over the course of my life that my body chose today,of all days, to start my menstrual cycle? Of everything that is already happening today, I think this one takes the cake.
I glance around the small restroom hoping to find any kind of feminine product I can use. I check the small cabinet next to the toilet, praying for something.Nothing. I’m in full panic mode when I hear a knock on the door, and an annoying grumpy voice floats through the door.
“Hey! Are you done in there? We have to go.”
“Umm…” I sound more timid than I expect, “I have a situation.”
“What situation?” His voice is hesitant, like he’s unsure what new chaos I’m about to unleash on him.Oh, you’re in it now, Mr. Man.
“Could you maybe ask the waitress to come to the door?”
“No. Tell me what it is.”
“Well, I started my cycle, there isn’t any feminine product in here, and I can’t leave. It’s like Shark Week in here.” I wince as soon as that analogy leaves my mouth.He didn’t need to know that, Charlie.
No response, just sounds of footsteps walking away. I would have left, too, because that was embarrassing. It feels like an eternity passes as I sit in the small restroom, thinking of my next move.
A knock rattles the flimsy restroom door, and I nearly jump out of my skin. His voice carries through a second later, low but surprisingly sympathetic.
“The waitress didn’t have anything on hand, so I’m heading next door to the convenience store to get you what you need. Don’t try anything funny.”
I’m too stunned to reply. He’s really going to buy me feminine products? Most guys would die ofembarrassment just walking down that aisle. Before I can even get a word out, his footsteps are already retreating.
12
Aiden
Sliding into the vinyl booth, I sink back against the squeaky red cushion and let my eyes sweep over the place. This diner looks like it stepped out of the 70s—linoleum floors scuffed from years of boots and sneakers, a jukebox in the corner covered in faded stickers, and laminated menus tucked between salt and pepper shakers.
Alone for the first time, I tug the gaiter down to get some fresh air. It reeks of sweat and bad decisions—like every boy ski trip I’ve taken. The last time I wore this mask, we were racing down a black run at Copper Mountain when our classmate, Luke, wiped out and popped his shoulder clean out of the socket. Good thing Eli was training in sports medicine—he’d seen his fair share of dislocations. He got Luke patched up and downthe mountain for treatment like it was just another Tuesday.
I scratch my beard while examining the menu. I could use a little breakfast, but I doubt we have the time. Eli said to meet at noon. Traffic has already delayed us and it’s not a quarter past ten.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” the waitress’s voice interrupts my thought. She’s leaning her right hip against the booth, puffing out her chest, definitely trying to flirt, but my focus is on the brunette in the restroom.
I shake my head, eyes flicking toward the restroom door for the third time in the last minute. She’s been in there too long. My gut twists—did she run off? I’m sitting at the entrance of the hallway. She couldn’t have made it past me. But what if there’s a back door next to the restroom? I curse myself for not checking before letting her go in alone. A rush of fear sweeps over me as I think about the blaring police cruiser that’s about to show up outside the dinner. But another emotion is clogging at my throat, a low hum of worry I can’t quite shake. Worry forhersafety.
I walk toward the restroom, praying she has not slipped out the back door. Spotting no viable exit in sight, I knock on the restroom door to check on her.
“Hey! Are you done there? We have to go.” My voice is harsher than I intend.
