Blood Storm

Another Encounter

My drive to town the next morning was much more comfortable than my walk the day before.

I drove through Rockport, taking a left where my mother told me to until I came up on a small building with a wooden sign that had a coffee cup on it. Creative, I sneered mentally.

I was trying really hard to be in a good mood again today, but my lack of sleep for the second night in a row was making that exceedingly difficult. My dark circles almost resembled bruises now, and the tiredness had moved on to my brain as well. I was moving sluggishly. I hadn’t done anything this morning other than throw my hair up into a messy bun and throw on jeans and a hoodie. I was definitely feeling grumpy, too, and I hoped that I’d be able to get some sleep soon.

I rolled my eyes at myself as I parked outside of the coffee shop, throwing my bag over my shoulder. Coffee was a desperate need at this point if I was going to make it through the day.

Foggy and uncoordinated, I approached the counter and examined the menu. There was only four people in the coffee shop, but I didn’t pay much attention to the customers— or the staff. I rubbed my eyes angrily.

“Hi! What can I get for you?” A young girl chimed from behind the counter.

“I just need a cup of your dark roast. No cream or sugar.” I sounded a lot more snippy than I intended to, and I instantly felt guilty when the girl’s face fell. It wasn’t anyone else’s fault that I couldn’t sleep, and I needed to remember that.

She took my money eagerly and waved at me and told me to have a nice day. I tried to muster up a warm smile for her, but I probably just looked like a psychopath.

The barista had my coffee waiting on me when I reached the other end of the counter. The aroma from the coffee was delicious. I grabbed it quickly and went to settle in to a little booth by the back of the shop.

The first sip of coffee I took almost felt like it warmed my soul. I couldn’t resist closing my eyes to take it in. I wasn’t much on caffeine, usually. My normal order was decaf, but I definitely needed the energy today, although I was sure I would regret it later when I crashed from it.

I reached in my bag to pull out my sketchbook. I wasn’t a great artist, but it did give me something to do to occupy my hands and mind, even if I was just drawing random shapes. My hand found my pencil and quickly got to work.

I could have drank coffee and sketched at home, I supposed, but I didn’t want to hover around my mom. She seemed very engrossed in her projects around the cottage— delighted, even— and I didn’t want my sour mood to put a damper on the joy she was feeling.

From all of the effort I was putting it to try to like Rockport, you’d think I should have had an aneurism by now. I felt like if I tried any harder to find something redeemable about the town I would pull a muscle. I did like the coffee shop and the library, as generic as those things were. It got me out of the house, and off the blue and purple quilt that always seemed to trouble my soul at night. I was looking forward to starting school. It was my senior year, and at least that would give me something to do with my free time. I could focus on being an above average student, and that would keep me busy enough for the most part that I couldn’t think about how much I hated my life.

I almost jumped out of my skin when the chair in front of me pulled back, making a horrible scraping noise that made me want to cover my ears.

I looked up into the same pair of beautiful black eyes that had insulted me at the library yesterday, and I instantly started to scowl. These people were going to think I was the grumpiest person on the face of the planet.

“Did your atrocious reading choices give you nightmares?”

I sat back, clenching my pencil in my hand. The handsome, blonde stranger was examining me with a gaze that I’d seen doctors use with patients.

The heat on my skin immediately came back under his gaze as I worked to calm my heart rate. Today, he was wearing a black leather jacket. What was with this guy and wearing black? Did he own anything else?

I swallowed before I spoke, hoping my voice wouldn’t sound shaky. “Are you stalking me?”

There was that arrogant half-smile again. “Not at all. Small town, you know.. we’re bound to run into each other.”

I didn’t know what it was about this man that made me want to slap him and make out with him all at once, but it made me angry. “My reading choices are not atrocious, thank you.”

My irritation only seemed to intrigue him more. He didn’t look bored at all today, however. He seemed totally intrigued with everything I was saying.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Question about what?”

His perfectly sculpted mouth twitched a little. “Nightmares.”

“No. I just didn’t sleep well,” I snapped. I reached down to take a sip of my coffee, angry that the delicious smell was now marred by an even more delicious campfire smell. “Who are you, anyway? If you’re going to keep sneaking up on me, you could at least tell me your name.”

“Jax.”

The name was fitting. Different. “Oh. Well, I’m Colette.”

Cue arrogant smile. “I know.”

I sat back, crossing my arms over my chest. “And you’re sure you aren’t stalking me?”

Jax rolled his eyes. “Please. I overheard you talking to the librarian yesterday.”

I watched his hand as he reached over and grabbed my sketchbook. I opened my mouth to protest, or cuss him out, but he was already talking again. My face flushed red.

“You aren’t much of an artist,” he sounded like a school teacher, telling little Jimmy to get back in his seat. He flipped through the pages of my sketchbook nonchalantly. “This one is kind of good.” He held up my sketch of the blue ridge landscape in Asheville, eyeing it sideways.

I leaned up, snatching the book from his hands. He snickered a little as I slammed it shut and shoved it into my bag.

“Do you like to insult me?” I angrily shoved my pencil in the front pocket of my bag. I got up and began to throw my things over my shoulder.

He looked upset now, as if he felt bad. He reached out and touched the top of my hand, as if to apologize, and when he did, I almost fainted.

His hand was ice cold, which wasn’t surprising considering the weather. But where his fingers brushed against the back of my hand, it felt like pure ecstasy. I pulled my hand away quickly, my lips trembling. My hand was still tingling where he touched me.

“I didn’t mean to offend you.” He said softly. The way he said the words and held his mouth after was seductive, and I found myself staring intently at that perfect Cupid’s bow on his top lip.

I contemplated running for the door, but something told me not to leave yet. Instead, I tore my gaze away from his mouth and gingerly sat back down in the booth.

“Are you from Rockport, Jax?” I asked.

I liked saying his name, it felt more formal. There always seemed to be a secret message somewhere behind his eyes, even after I asked such a simple question. “Not originally, no. But I have been here for.. a while now.”

I was going to ask where he was from before this, but he interrupted me before I could quiz him any further, his black eyes twinkling and curious. “Why did you move to Rockport?”

I groaned. “Is it that obvious that I’m not from here? Do you people just have a detector for outsiders?” I laid my head on my hands for a brief moment.

He smiled carefully, as if he were monitoring his facial expressions. “Are you going to answer my question?”

I sighed, resigned. I wasn’t sure how much of this answer I was willing to dive into. “My dad passed a few months ago. My mom grew up here, and she thought a change of scenery would be good for us.” It was hard to miss the contempt in my voice.

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” he murmured, his face thoughtful. “That must have been very painful.”

Pain whipped through my chest, reminding me exactly how painful it was. “It was.”

“You don’t want to live here, though.” He wasn’t asking a question. It was a statement.

I sighed. “I liked my old house.” I was beginning to feel very self concscious of his constant probing, so I decided that two could play that game. “How old are you?”

He didn’t hesitate to answer. “Nineteen.”

“Do you go to school here?”

“No. I graduated.” His answers were very quick— I’d I hadn’t known better, I would have said he had rehearsed them.

“Oh,” I tried to keep the disappointment out of my voice. There was no way that this complete Gucci model of a man wanted me, anyway. I knew that.

He ran a hand through his messy hair and glanced at his watch. “I have a meeting to attend, so I really should be going.” His words technically said he wanted to leave, but he didn’t move from his seat.

“A meeting?” I quizzed. I felt bad being nosey, but he had pried into my personal life, so I felt I was owed it.

He smiled a brilliant, teeth-flashing smile, and my heart pretty much jumped out of my chest and landed in a sad heap on the floor.

“A business meeting, of sorts,” his ridiculously handsome smile turned quickly into a very worried frown. His eyes slid carefully towards the door, and then back to my face. “It was lovely to formally be introduced, Colette.”

I blushed. “Um, yeah. Nice to meet you, I guess.”

His frown hadn’t yet smoothed out. “Be careful getting home,” his eyes met mine, and his intense gaze was back in full force. I felt like I was burning. His words were innocent enough, but they felt intense, like he was really trying to convey a message to me that he wasn’t sure I was going to understand. He looked like he was having an internal debate, and struggling to control his facial features. After a few seconds, his worried, anxious look smoothed out into a perfectly controlled smile once again.

He raised from his chair, gave me a wink that almost made my eyes roll back in my head, and left the coffee shop. I stared after him, watching the door as it swung shut behind him. He didn’t look back at me as he left.

I kept trying to convince myself that I didn’t have a thing for him, and in truth, I really didn’t. He was probably the best looking man I’d ever seen, but it didn’t go any further than that, and I knew my physical reactions to him were probably just natural.

With him out of sight, it was much easier to calm my nerves. The heat in my veins had also vanished, and I found myself missing it a little. I tried to drink my coffee to bring it back, but my coffee had gotten to about the temperature of lukewarm bath water. I sighed, gathering my things and deciding it was probably a good idea for me to go home. I had started off my conversation with Jax by pretty much verbally assaulting him, even though sometimes I felt like he deserved it, so I figured it probably wasn’t a good day for me to be out if I was going to leave a good impression on anyone here.

I threw my coffee cup in the trash and hopped back in my mom’s car, driving back towards the cottage, fighting off image of the dark black irises I kept seeing in my head.