1.2 The Chronicles of Us - Rewound & Retold

Chapter three

As soon as the last word leaves my mouth, all eyes are on me. Mine remain fixed on the girl in front of me. The girl with a blush as red as her hair and lips like strawberries.

The fuck?

Roy's voice snaps me out of my trance. "You invited her, Tex?"

I break eye-contact and shrug. "Yeah, I did. Now give us some privacy. I need to talk to her."

Since they don't leave immediately, I scowl until they do. Once alone, I close the curtain and sit down on the other bench.

I need a moment to wrap my head around the fact that she's wearing a goddamn tule gown. Thankfully, she seems to understand.

She was getting married today. Unwanted memories creep up. There's nothing holy about matrimony. It's a dead end. My mom knew that. That's why she took a short cut. This girl apparently realized it on time. Perhaps I kissed some sense into her. That would make me a hero. Sorta. Probably not.

Once the initial shock has worn off, I exhale and lean back. "Boyfriend, huh?"

A shameful half-smile is what she gives me. "Technically, he was."

I make a weird throat-noise. "Fiancé is the word you're looking for."

Her left hand makes a dismissive gesture. "Potato tomato."

Was she this weird, yesterday?

How old is she anyway? She seems younger than me, but who in their right mind would get married at that age. Or at all, for that matter.

I pry for information. "You look young for someone who's like thirty or something."

She gasps, jaw to the floor. "I'm not thirty! I'm twenty-one."

Jesus!

She's mental. It's the only logical explanation. Unless ... "Let me guess, the guy you were about to marry is the same guy you've dated since high school?"

She affirms the question by staying silent. It's a tale as old as time. Read: cliché as fuck. Still, she didn't go through with it. That says something about her character. What, though?

I keep my eyes on her, trying very hard not to drool over the way her tits rise and fall. Fuck me. I really want to drag her across the table and find out what's underneath that dress. All the while, she doesn't shy away from checking me out. There's nothing subtle about the way she's wetting her lips.

Our little stare-game ends when I look away. The fuck am I doing? Letting my obscene mind run wild while she's wearing a wedding gown. This was all a big fat fucking mistake. Whatever her reason for running away is, it can't be me. I'll make damn sure she knows.

I whip up a smirk. "Well, Birdie, I didn't expect you to actually show up."

Ah, shit. I shouldn't have called her that again.

She shrugs. "Me neither."

I can't read her face and it drives me crazy. Does she think I want her here? "You know I was joking, right?"

"Obviously. I didn't come here to be your groupie. This is about me finding my way."

Excuse me?

The way she rolled her eyes made my dick a little angry. I mean, that kiss must have contributed to her decision to make a run for it.

Wait.

If she didn't come here for me that means I'm scot-free. Things are starting look up. She's not a nice girl, just an opportunist who saw her chance clean to get out of that dreadful town. I can work with that.