Someone Like You

Chapter Fifteen

Brea

It has been a week since it happened.

The total non-event, let's-pretend-it-never-happened kiss that plays on a constant loop inside my head. A memory that makes my body burn. It was only a taste of what that man could do to me. A crumb, if you will.

And my God, I want more.

I worked three shifts through the week, none of which I ran into my handsome farmer. I'm sure that isn't a coincidence.

My phone vibrates loudly on the bedside table. Curiously, I glance at it, seeing Nathan's name across the screen.

I almost packed up everything and left on Wednesday after a huge fight with him. Apparently, he owns a small restaurant and the fact that I'm working 'for the enemy' means I am no true sister of his. After a few colourful word choices and some unnecessarily yelling, I stormed out of his house and slammed the door shut behind me. A text was later sent that night, apologising and asking me not to leave. We haven't seen each other since.

"Hi, Nathan," I answer.

"Hey," he says.

There's a beat of silence and I stubbornly stay quiet. If he wants to talk, then he can talk. He is the one who outrageously overreacted.

"Come down to the restaurant," he eventually says. "I want to show you around. Johnny will make us a nice dinner."

"Who?"

"My chef."

"Oh," I reply, glancing to the small clock perched next to the lamp to my left. "Okay. Is dad coming?"

"Just us."

Dad was released through the week. I've been around to see him a few times, but he's almost always been asleep. He is on strong pain killers that make him drowsy.

Sliding my feet into sandals, I let the hotel door click shut behind me. I walk into town. It doesn't take too long and there is a gentle breeze that caresses my skin. A familiar ute is parked at the pub. Zander is inside. I'm tempted to show my face there just to make him uncomfortable, but I decide not to. I'm feeling just as lost and confused as he probably is.

The restaurant is small, tucked around the corner of the main street. There are a few tables occupied when I walk inside. The bell above me chimes and everyone glances up. The familiar feeling of being placed underneath a microscope washes over me. Without meeting anyone's gazes, I make my way toward the bar and order a drink.

It's small and old, but it's comfortable. Soft golden lights, warm earthy tones of mismatched leather seats and patterned tables. Soft music gently plays in the background. It fits this town perfectly.

"Hey," the bartender flashes a grin at me. "You must be Brea? You're gorgeous as fuck."

I blink, taken back for a moment. Nathan appears behind him and whacks the back of his head. The guy exclaims, cursing under his breath as he rubs his head.

"No way in hell," Nathan says firmly, pointing at him. "Hands off."

"All right, all right," he mutters, glaring at my brother. "Don't hit so hard next time."

"It'll be a punch to the nose next time," Nathan warns. Turning his eyes to me, he smiles. "Hey. Thanks for coming. What do you want to drink?"

"A wine will do."

"You heard her," Nathan says, side-eyeing the bartender.

"Nathan, don't be rude to your employees."

"Yeah Nathan," the guy smirks.