Page 5 of More With You

His whole demeanor, hostile just moments ago, is now gentle and endearing. Like someone offering a hug after a bad argument or patting you on the back at a funeral when you’ve been trying so hard to hold yourself together, tears begin to sting my eyes. Tears of shock, mostly, but a few of gratitude.

I’m not letting that bastard see me cry…

“The cops?” I swallow uncomfortably. “Um… no. No, that’s okay.” I’ve had too many grim experiences with the cops to trust them with anything, and they wouldn’t take this kind of harassment seriously, even if it was someone other than Levi. They’d call it harmless “boys will be boys” fun. But that’s kind of its own problem—Levi is a somebody in this town – college educated, connections to the ‘old money’ families - and I’m a nobody. If he’d physically hurt me, or worse, the odds still wouldn’t be in my favor.

“You sure?” Ben arches an eyebrow: his eyes flitting down to my scraped knees.

I meet his gaze. “Yeah. Thank you. I’m sure.” I gesture to my legs. “That was all me. I tripped on the gravel. Serves me right for wearing dollar-store flip-flops.”

Calmed slightly, I take a proper look at him. He’s tall, with wide shoulders and strong arms peeking out from beneath the sleeves of a simple gray t-shirt. He has a proud, straight nose and a nice mouth, curved in a half-smile of relief. His jaw peaks at a slightly dented chin, though it looks like a small scar, rather than a cleft, and his face is framed by a beachy, yet short, cut, though I can’t gauge the color. He’s good-looking in a quiet, understated way, rather than a strutting peacock like Levi.

“Sure, sure?” His smile widens.

I nod. “Positive.” My gaze morphs into a glower as I look to Levi. My jaw tightens. “Don’t ever touch me again. Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t come to my table, or I’ll have security get rid of you. Whatever messed up fantasy you have about me, it ends now.”

Levi smears his nose on the back of his hand and flashes a smarmy grin, while he twirls his keys around his index finger. The glint of his ring and the keys is dazzling, making me blink and turn my glare away.

“Just get the fuck out of here, Levi, before I really kick your ass,” my savior says.

Levi huffs out a peculiar laugh, like he knows something I don’t, and pushes off the hood of the car my white knight sent him flying into. Whistling an irritatingly cavalier tune, he saunters across the parking lot, gets into the driver’s seat of a sleek, black SUV and fires it up. I pray the cops pull him over and breathalyze him.

Watching the tail lights vanish through the live oaks, floating in the shadows like red-tinged specters, I wrap my arms around my elbows, trying to cocoon myself in a bubble of relief and safety. I’m shaking, but I can’t get it to stop. I’m not even sure why I’m shaking; I’ve dealt with worse drunken idiots.

A gentle hand touches my shoulder. “I’m sorry about that,” my rescuer says, gaining the ghost of a smile from me. “Do you want to go inside and get a drink? Might ease your nerves.”

I look past this bear of a man and eye the entry to the bar, which is thrumming with music and life and energy… and the smokers who’d been noticeably absent when I needed help. “No, I don’t think I’m up for a drink. It’s…” I swirl my hand through the air between us, “… too much, right now.”

“How about a walk down the beach, then?” He hesitates. “I mean, if you’re comfortable with that. Wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t; you don’t even know me. Plus, your knees are pretty torn up.”

I peer up at him through wet lashes, dampened by the tears I’ve been fighting. All I wanted was a drink, some jazz, and some time to unwind, and Levi stole that from me… but maybe the night can still be salvaged. Ben’s tall, broad, powerful body is ringed by a halo of light, coming from the molten glow of the bar. A strange angel, for sure, but a proven guardian, nonetheless. He exudes calm and peace and strength, and though I’ve been taught otherwise, all my life, I can’t help but trust him without question.

“It’s Ben, isn’t it?” I ask stiffly.

He nods. “That’s me.”

“Well then, I know you now.”

“I’m guessing you have a name, too?”

“Right. Sorry.” I laugh softly. “I’m Summer.”

He just looks at me and smiles, and I can feel myself forgetting the nightmare of Levi, and the crawl of his touch and his words. It’ll all come back to haunt me, I don’t doubt that, but, for now, I know I’m safe. How could I not be, with this charming savior at my side? My grandma would’ve said he’s too good to be true, but she isn’t here, and I’m tired of thinking the worst for one night.

3

SUMMER

“I haven’t seen you around here before.” Ben is the first to break the easy silence. I don’t mind the quiet, especially after my shift surrounded by the trills of machines and the explosive swear words of a player losing. But I get why others don’t like it or can’t get comfortable in the nothingness.

I smile. “Are you going to ask me if I come here often?”

“Do I look that cheesy to you?” He laughs—a sound as comforting as the lapping of the water on the shoreline. It bubbles up from somewhere deep in his broad chest and I bet, if I put my hand there, I’d feel the rumble of it.

Shyly, I shake my head.

“My next question was going to be, have you lived here long? I don’t think that’s the same thing.” His company fills me with the same calm as the earlier silence. If I were on my own, I probably wouldn’t dare take a nighttime walk around this stretch of the water, even before Levi ambushed me. But Ben is built like personal security, and though he’s walking next to me, he’s keeping space between us. Letting me breathe after my ordeal.

I shove my hands into the back pockets of my jeans. “Six months here, six months there, six months everywhere. Mostly on the coast, though. I like to be near the water. Been that way for five years.”

---