Ten Below ZeroTen Below Zero(13)

After that, our food arrived and we spent the meal in silence. Cheeseburgers with extra cheese turned out to be just what I needed.



Present

After paying my bills, I slipped into some running shorts and a tank top. I was out the door a minute later, headed down the sidewalk towards my school.

I was never a runner before I met Mira. My idea of working out had been dancing at the club or raising my hand for another drink. But Mira had pushed me, pissed me off, and forced me to be strong. So now I ran almost every day. I ran the four miles to campus, grabbed lunch from a food cart and ate in the park nearby so I could indulge in my favorite pastime: people-watching.

When I made it to campus, I heard my phone go off. I plopped onto a bench and pulled it out of the pocket it was strapped to on my arm.

Everett: You never answered my question about lunch. That was rude of you.

My lips twitched.

Me: I never claimed to be anything else.

Everett: And now you’re stealing my words. You definitely owe me lunch.

I hesitated. Yes, for some strange reason, I wanted to see him again. There was something really peculiar about him, and his scars had piqued my interest. But it was completely unlike me to engage with someone, least of all a man, in a one-on-one setting.

Me: Okay fine.



Thirty minutes later, I was sitting in a booth, waiting for Everett to show up. I was still wearing my workout clothing, soaked in sweat from the run to the apartment to grab my car.

I was finishing my second glass of water when the door to the restaurant jingled. I lifted my eyes and saw Everett striding towards the table.

He slid into the seat across from me before signaling for the waitress to come around. Our eyes met and my chest tightened. It’d only been a few hours since I had last seen him, and yet seeing him again was feeding an ache that squeezed in my chest.

“Is it safe to assume you’re wearing running shoes now?” he asked.

“I am.”

“So I better be careful of what I say, so you don’t run again?”

I shrugged and sipped my water. “I’ll probably run anyways.”

Everett leaned on the table. I inhaled his scent, which I could only describe as cool water, though in theory, water didn’t have a scent. “Do I intimidate you?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

I was sure I frowned slightly. “Not exactly. I just don’t make a habit of talking to people.”

Everett stared at me until the waitress came around. “A cheeseburger. With extra cheese.”

I lifted my eyes to his. He was watching me for a reaction. I controlled my features to stay calm. When the waitress walked away, I spoke again, “They don’t make it as good as Paulie’s does.”

“Paulie’s?” he asked.

I shook my head, signaling that I didn’t intend to speak that aloud. “Why did you want to meet up again?”

“I was bored.”

I glared at him. “That’s…”

He smiled, his first real grin. “Let me guess what you were going to say: Rude. Yes, Parker, I am in fact very rude. And unless you’ve already forgotten, you said the same thing to me last night.”

My mind flipped back like a book to when I admitted I’d come along to the bar to meet him out of boredom.

“Sorry I ruined your date last night.”

Everett cocked his head to the side and eyed me curiously. “It wasn’t a date. And even if it was, you didn’t ‘ruin’ it.”

“Your text message made it sound like a date.”

“Did it?” he asked, running his fingers over the scruff on his chin. “Well, it wasn’t.”

“Then what was it?”

“That’s none of your business.”

My eyes snapped from watching his fingers on his chin to his eyes. “It was just a question.”

“And you don’t answer all of mine. So why should I answer yours?”

I sat back in the booth and crossed my arms over my chest. “What questions?”

“Why did you really come to the bar? It would have been easier to just reply, ‘wrong number.’”

I blew out a frustrated breath. “I had nothing else to do. And I wanted to change things up a little bit.”

“You were right when you said to look for the girl who doesn’t belong. You couldn’t have looked more out of your element.”

Something about his words bothered me. The tone was neutral, but it felt like a dig. Something replaced the annoyance that simmered on the back burner.

“Well you look like you belong at a funeral.” It was an immature dig, but it was the only one I could come up.

Everett laughed humorlessly. “I probably do.”

I furrowed my brow, confused. “What does that mean?”

“Nuh-uh,” he said, shaking a finger at me. “My turn to ask a question.”

“I didn’t even ask one!” I protested.

“I still answered.”

I bit my lip to keep from arguing. Why was he bothering me so much?

Everett watched me with fascination. When he seemed satisfied that I wouldn’t say anything else, he settled back in his seat. “So,” he started. “Morris Jensen.”

I was already regretting telling him. “What about him?”