Lyrics of a Small Town by Abbi Glines

Three

“Hey,” I blurted out, surprised to see him.

He smirked as if he was amused and stepped back so I could exit the elevator. “You leaving already?” he asked.

“Yes, I just had to drop something off,” I explained then added, “thank you for earlier, at the gate.” My cheeks heated and I knew I was red. Thanks to my pale skin, any and all embarrassment was clearly broadcasted on my face.

“No problem,” he replied.

“Saul, you ready? I’m fucking starving,” a guy called out, and Mr. Blue truck turned his head toward the voice.

He had a name. His name was Saul.

“In a minute,” he replied then looked back at me.

“I swear I’m gonna take your truck and leave your ass if you don’t, well hell-ooo. Who is this?” the other guy drawled as he walked around the corner into view. His hair was as light as Saul’s was dark and his eyes were a hazel color that could be considered pretty because his eyelashes were so thick and long.

“I said I was coming,” Saul repeated.

The blond was wearing a pair of jeans that hung low on his hips, no shirt and no shoes. “I’m not in a hurry,” the guy said smiling at me. “What’s your name, sugar?”

I didn’t particularly like being called sugar, but I was in Alabama so I let it slide. “Henley,” I replied, glancing from the blond to Saul then back to the blond.

He held out his hand toward me. “Drake,” he said and I slipped my hand in his and instead of shaking mine, he lifted it to his mouth and kissed the inside of my palm.

“Jesus,” Saul muttered.

Drake grinned and winked at me. “He’s just jealous because I’m the pretty one.”

I would greatly disagree with this statement, but I would do it silently. While Drake was, in fact, nice to look at and his lashes were things Maybelline would give billions for, he was not the better looking one. However, this was neither here nor there. It did not matter. I was leaving.

“It was nice to meet you,” I said then looked at Saul. “Both of you. Thanks again.” I started to take a step to move around Drake when he moved with me.

“Wait, we were just headed to a friend’s house. There will be free food, beer, cocktails, whatever. She’ll have it. Come with us,” Drake asked.

“Drake,” Saul said his name as if it were a warning. He didn’t want me there. That stung and my deep bedded insecurities came bursting forth yet again.

“What? She’s going with me. My friend. Not yours. Fleur can’t bitch about it,” Drake replied, sounding annoyed then shot me a flirty grin.

I stood there, wanting nothing more than to get to my car and go back to Gran’s. I did not fit in with people like this and Saul knew it. Drake might possibly be drunk and not realize it just yet.

Saul was not pleased with any of this and I was taking it personally. He had been so nice up until now. “If she wants to go with you that’s her call,” he said, not sounding like it was fine at all then walked off leaving us there.

Drake turned back to me and gave me what I was sure he considered his most charming smile. “Saul can be a moody son of a bitch and when I say that I am being very literal. You have no fucking idea how literal. Ignore him. He will get a few beers in him, Fleur will lick on him some and he will be fine. Not that he is ever what one would call fucking happy. We love him anyway.”

I glanced toward the parking deck and my car. “I would need to change,” I said, thinking that might get me out of this.

“That’s fine. Are you staying here?” he asked.

“No. I had to drop something off. I’m staying in my Gran’s house on Sunset Street,” I explained.

His grin only got bigger. “No shit. That’s where Calli’s house is. We can stop by on the way.”

“My car,” I began.

“I’ll ride with you.” He glanced out at the parking deck. “I’m fairly certain Saul left me anyway.”

I was stuck.

And it sounded like I was going to the loud party house down the street. Who had parties every night? It was Wednesday for goodness grief. It was possibly the very last thing I ever wanted to do though, my good manners were making it difficult to just be rude.

“Now that we’re friends, how do you feel about blow jobs?” Drake asked me so casually, he could have been asking me if I enjoyed sweet tea.

I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Had he really just asked me how I felt about blow jobs? Who does that?

The Ford truck pulled up in front of us. “Get in. We got to go bail Rio out of jail,” Saul called out the window to Drake.

“Shit, again?” Drake asked as if this was an annoyance and a regular occurrence.

Saul nodded his head once.

‘What the fuck he do this time?” Drake asked.

“Are you comin’ or not?” was Saul’s response.

Drake glanced back down at me. “Another time, sugar,” he said, then walked away, leaving me there, which had been what I wanted in the first place. I waited until he climbed into the truck. Just as it began to pull off, Drake turned his head back in my direction and winked.

The Alabama license plate told me what I had already assumed: Saul was a local. Once they were gone, I headed toward my Mini, ready to go back to Gran’s and take a shower, eat some dinner, and read a book. My typical evening. It was free of beautiful yet strange boys one who inquired about my feelings on oral sex and one with obvious mood swings. Those two were trouble and I wasn’t here for that.

Walking back into Gran’s house, the smell of vanilla and cinnamon always welcomed me. Even after the house had been closed up the three months since Gran’s death, the house still smelled the same. Years of baking had made its mark on the place and it made it feel like she was still here. My love for baking had come from Gran.

Tomorrow I would need to make a stop at the health food store and pick up some things. Then I could begin my own baking this summer. It was my form of therapy. Gran had once told me it had been hers too.

One long hot shower later, I was eating a turkey and provolone sandwich with pretzels and watching Jane the Virgin on Netflix when I heard the faint music coming from down the street. I didn’t have to look to know the party had started up. Rio must have been freed from jail and I was curious how those two were able to bail him out.

I reached for the remote and turned the volume up on the television, until I could no longer hear the sounds from down the street. Taking another bite of my sandwich, I leaned back on the sofa with my feet crossed in front of me and didn’t give Saul or Drake one more thought. At least I tried my best not to give them one more thought.