Against All Odds - Angel's Story(17)

I saw Chase in Riley’s face, near the lockers, that same day. After that, Riley never spoke to me again. It was obvious they didn’t like each other. Maybe he stayed away, because Chase was always hanging around.

“No, it’s not taken.” Not anymore.

“Do you mind if I sit near you?” he asks.

“That’s fine,” I say, even though I don’t really want him to sit next to me.

“How are you enjoying Melbourne?”

“It’s beautiful,” I reply, forcing a smile.

“So, you still up for that tour?” he asks. Everything in me wants to say no thanks, but this is my chance to move on. I’m nowhere near as attracted to Riley as I am to Chase. Sure he’s hot. Super hot. I’m not sure if anyone could measure up to Chase though. There are no sparks with Riley. Nothing. Maybe that’s because I’m still hung up on someone else.

By the time class is over I’ve agreed to meet him later on in the day for coffee. It’s my first big step at moving forward. He seems nice, and funny. He even made me laugh a few times during class. Laughing is good. I haven’t been doing enough of that lately.

“I’ll see you at 4:00 p.m. then?” he says with a smile before walking off.

“Okay, great.” Honestly, I’m not looking forward to it, but it’s something I need to do. It’s only coffee. It’s not like I’m going to have sex with him. I’ve learnt my lesson there.

When I pick up my bag and go to walk out of class, my eyes betray me. Looking over to where Chase usually sits, I find him standing next to his desk. His body is stiff and rigid. His arms are crossed on his chest. He’s not happy at all, I can tell by the look on his face. He’s shooting daggers at Riley as he walks out of the room.

••••



Chase



By the end of the day I’m feeling like shit. Not from the raging hangover I woke up with this morning, but from that fucker, Riley Benson. I warned him over a month ago to stay away from Angel. Looks like he’s going to need another talking to.

There’s something about him. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I don’t trust that cocksucker one little bit. He acts like he’s untouchable, just because his father is high up in the police force. I don’t want him anywhere near my Angel.

I feel like going home and getting shitfaced again, but after hitting the bottle pretty hard last night, I promised Pops I’d slow down. He’s worried about me, I know. I’m worried about me. I haven’t been myself lately.

Fucking sweet-cheeks.

I finally told him about Angel last night. He wouldn’t stop pestering me until I did. He knows I’m not usually a drinker, but the last few weeks I’ve been drinking a lot. Pops has always discouraged me from that kind of lifestyle. I hardly drink. I’ve never smoked or done drugs. My old man would’ve kicked my arse if I did.

I remember a few years back someone at the club passed me a joint. Pops knocked it out of my hands and then broke the guy’s nose. “Keep that fucking shit away from my boy,” he screamed. He’s really quite passive most of the time, but when it comes to me he’s a protective bulldog.

He’s also noticed my lack of female company. I don’t think he’s used to seeing me without one or two hanging off me. So, when I told him there was nothing wrong, he called bullshit.

He wants to have a talk with me when I get home this afternoon. It’s the last thing I want, or need.

I jump on my bike and speed out of the car park. Instead of heading home, I pull up outside this little coffee shop across from campus. For two reasons: One, I need coffee, some strong mother-fucking coffee. And two, the longer I can put off going home the better.

I’m grateful when I step inside. It seems to be pretty quiet this time of day. I’ve never been in here before. It’s nice. I walk over to the counter to order my very strong black coffee. None of that fancy girly shit for me. That shit’s for pansies, as Pops would say.

There’s a young girl wiping down the counter as I approach. She looks like she’s just out of high school. When she looks up at me her eyes bug out of her head. She drops the rag and proceeds to wipe her hands on her apron as she swallows nervously. Fuck knows why I have this effect on women. I’ll never understand it.

I decide to throw on the charm. I feel my lips curl into a smile when her face flushes red. Another lady comes out from the back. She’s a redhead, about my age. She’s a looker, too. When her eyes meet mine they narrow into slits. What the hell!

“Oh, if it isn’t Mr. Fuck-‘em-and-chuck-‘em,” she says snidely as she marches towards me. Again, what the fuck!