Bound

Chapter 4 - Chris

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Skylar

It had been a week since the last dream when I woke again in a cold sweat. Same dream, but this time as I fell, I heard a whisper of my name as the breeze ruffled my hair—a male voice, strong and sure. 

Hopping into the shower, I try to shake the uneasy feeling that usually accompanies the dream minutes after waking up. Today for some reason, that uncomfortable feeling was dead set on remaining. 

Choosing comfort over style, I pull out a pair of jeans and a plain fitted shirt, making sure to put on the obsidian necklace my aunt had given me for my eighteenth birthday. It belonged to my mother and had been recovered at the site of the car accident, apparently in a bush close to the wreckage. It's used for protection, something I felt I could use a bit of. Let's just hope it works better for me than it did for my mom. Leaving my hair down, I run my hands through the curls to try and calm them down. Habit, as it doesn't actually work, and my hair looks much the same as before.

Foregoing my regular coffee at home, I decide on a coffee from Fred's Diner. They made a killer cappuccino that I needed to wake me up, my broken sleep from last night leaving me feeling drained.

After dropping my bicycle off next to the wall outside my shop, I head over to the diner, making my way inside to the counter. Larry has not been working lately, and I am met with what I now know to be his father, Anton.

Mistakenly, I assumed that his name would be Fred, an assumption I voiced to him three days ago when we had the first conversation ever since I've been in Willow Falls. He told me it was a generational family name, and it had remained as is after being handed down from one family member to another.

Looking around after ordering my cappuccino and Rene's usual, I see a couple of faces in the diner I haven't seen before. Two couples in booths and two men sitting at the counter, and the big guy from the other day with the huge hands. He is occupying the same booth as before. I have nicknamed him burlo. Need to call him something as he seems to have become a regular in this town. Thinking back over the last week, I must have seen him every day except on Sunday when I stayed out of town. Either here or in the streets.

Burlo is well over six feet tall, with short on the side, long on the top blond hair, and steely brown eyes under bushy brows. His shirt seems to be taking a punishment from his biceps. Those seams must have been double-sewn, as I feel like they should have busted open by now. His thighs... well, those could kickstart a Boeing. I'm not at all surprised at the mountain of bacon and eggs on the plate in front of him. That body needs sustenance. Realizing I am staring, I bring my eyes back to the counter, but I can feel eyes on me—quite a few.

Tourists. I assume the new faces currently staring at me are tourists passing through. Big tourists. While they are not as big as burlo, I feel like they definitely follow the same training regime, as they are buff as fuck. They also all looked stern, definitely not people you wanted to mess with. Perhaps there was a military school opening nearby, or maybe they were part of a biker gang? Whatever it was, I hoped they moved along. This town didn't need trouble, and I definitely didn't want to have to close shop and move if that happened. Willow Falls was just starting to feel like home.

My order couldn't be ready any sooner. The scrutiny was making me feel uncomfortable. I beam at Anton, who hands me the cups after I pay him. As I'm about to leave, my cell rings. Groaning, I place the coffees back on the counter and fish my phone out of my bag.

Chris. He rarely uses my personal number and usually calls the shop, so this is unusual.

"Hey, Chris," I answer softly, turning around to face the door for some privacy. I don't usually answer my phone in public, but curiosity has gotten the better of me.

"Hi, Skylar. Sorry to bother you on your cell." The use of my full name doesn't go unnoticed, but I say nothing. I have no intention of dragging this public conversation out any longer than it has to be. Especially when I can still feel all eyes on me.

"No problem. Is everything okay?" I ask as I watch a couple of children playing in the park.

"All fine, Skylar. Thank you for asking. I will be in the area sometime next week on business, and I wanted to take you out for dinner, finally meet face to face if you're up for it?"

I hesitate momentarily, unsure how I feel about meeting someone I don't know well. Telephone calls don't tell you much about a person, as lovely as Chris sounds. Though, this kind of thing is probably something he does with all his clients when he is close to their location. A marketing strategy or something. Business school basics. We can go somewhere public, so it should be okay. And I am curious as to what he looks like. 

"Skylar? You there?" Chris asks, breaking me out of my over-analyses of what is probably a simple business dinner request.

"Um, yes, I'm here, sorry. I got distracted. That will be great, thank you. The only place in this town I know to have dinner is Fred's Diner, so just let me know when and I'll meet you there." My cheeks are burning red from embarrassment.

"Excellent. I look forward to finally meeting you," Chris says, his tone conveying his delight that I have agreed.

"Me too. I must go, but we'll chat soon then. Bye, Chris." The words are a tad rushed, but I just want this embarrassing conversation to end. It feels like everyone in the diner is listening to what is being said.

"Bye, Skylar," he says, amusement in his tone. He can probably hear I am uncomfortable.

I turn around, quickly taking my order before hastily exiting the diner. The fresh air is much better than the stifling atmosphere I have just left. Glancing briefly back, I catch burlos gaze before I look away. Quickening my pace back to the shops, I turn my thoughts to Chris.

Even though this was a business dinner, it would still be my first dinner with a man in over five years. Geez, had it been that long? As the reason behind my forced drought starts creeping in, the excitement of meeting Cris fades. No matter what, the relationship between Chris and I would have to be strictly professional or, at the very most, friends. While I was accustomed to being on my own, these thoughts suddenly made me feel very alone. More alone than ever.

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