Saint-Rock High Book 1: When Bitter & Sweet Meet

TORY

Starting fresh is easy when it means packing up my life and physically moving. But when my parents leave, tearfully kissing me goodbye, and I spend the first night crying in bed, the reality becomes much harder.

How does one even start fresh?

Not by lying in bed for a week straight. Then on the couch. Then anywhere in my apartment.

Today will be different.

Today marks one month since I moved to Saint-Rock, and I am going to celebrate. I don’t start my job for another few days, so it doesn’t matter if I end up blackout drunk and in a stranger’s bed.

Oh God. Why am I even thinking that?

I change out of my crop top and switch it for a loose, flowy blouse. Maybe Davis’s words hit harder than I thought.

I glance at my blank phone. I had to turn the notifications off because he and Katy wouldn’t stop messaging and calling. I don’t care what they have to say. I don’t care if he calls me a coward. There’s nothing wrong with leaving because I don’t want to be physically manhandled by my ex and former best friend.

After a hundred different outfits and a call from my mother to make sure I’m all right, I end up at a bar downtown called Puzzle13! It’s packed, noisy, and the air is suffocating. Every table is occupied, so I carefully wind my way to the counter and take a seat on the cleanest-looking bar stool.

Why did I come here?

This place isn’t my cup of tea.

A thin voice interrupts me. “What will you have, darling?”

“Scotch and soda,” I say, naming the first drink that pops into my head.

“You got it.” He writes my order on his pad and turns around.

I look at the crowd again, perusing without seeing, and then stop. Who is that? Whoever it is, they have the most beautiful light gray eyes I have ever seen. He’s mostly obscured by another table, so I casually lean onto the bar, shifting my whole body left to catch a better glimpse.

A short, dark-brown beard flecked with gray hangs past his chin.

Normally, it’d be a turnoff, but for him, I’ll make an exception. It makes the gray of his eyes stand out more.

I always hated when Davis grew a beard. Wait a minute, why am I thinking of him? I crush the thought. Not tonight.

Suddenly, his beautiful eyes look up and find me. Fuck. I turn around too fast, almost wobbling right off my seat.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

I right myself, clutching the underside of the bar with a death grip. He caught me staring. No, not staring—ogling. Like a teenage girl.

What a nightmare.

“Here you go, darling.” The bartender hands me my drink.

Without thinking, I take it and gulp it down in one shot.

Bad move. My throat is burning.

“Can I have another, please?” I cough, eyes watering. What? Why did I ask for another one? What a great way to start a new beginning.

This time I’ll drink slower.

“Hello there, pretty lady.” Someone sits beside me. “I was wondering if it hurt when you fell?”

I frown. Fell? What is he talking about?

I say nothing, but curiosity makes me look. Long brown hair falls to his shoulders and deep brown eyes complement a warm smile that can win any girl over.

“You know, being an angel. Because a woman as pretty as you must be an angel.”

I open my mouth and freeze. Why do I feel so embarrassed tonight? Can’t I have a break? I turn to the bartender for help, but he isn’t there. Great. How am I supposed to get out of this one now?

“Look, you seem…”

“Handsome? I know I’m handsome. You and I are both good-looking. We could do something about it.” He grins.

Is he for real right now?

Think of something, think of something. Brain blank, I down my drink all at once for the second time. That’s going to hurt in the morning.

“Stuart, don’t you have anything better to do than bother this lady with your lame pickup lines?” A warm, velvety tone with a subtle rasp touches the air above me. Fuck, that voice is orgasmic.

When I turn to see who my knight in shining armor is, my heart stops beating. It's him. The one I was ogling earlier. Did I say ogling? I mean staring. He’s the one with the beautiful gray eyes. And, I notice, warm dark-brown hair that’s just long enough to wrap my fingers around…

My face heats like the sun. Why am I thinking that? I tug at my shirt, suddenly self-conscious.

Is it me, or is it hot in here? Maybe it’s the two drinks or the fact that he’s standing close enough that I can feel the heat from his body. A shiver of excitement runs down my spine.

The other man scoffs. “Levi, weren’t you talking to some blond earlier? Stop bothering us.”

“Let me rephrase that for you, Stuart. You’re the one bothering ~her~. Isn’t that right, babe?” His head tilts down, beautiful gray eyes touching my skin.

Is he talking to me? Oh God, I think he is. Say something, anything.

“Tory,” I manage. Great, I don’t think that’s what he asked you, Tory. “Like I was trying to say, I’m not interested.” ~Good girl, nice save.~

Stuart’s disappointment is palpable. He’s about to say something when his eyes land on a brown-haired girl sitting in the bar’s corner not far from me.

“Your loss, Tory,” he says before sauntering away and saying one of the cheesiest lines of all time. “No one puts baby in a corner.”

She’s all over him within a second, their mouths interlocked without so much as a breath. He didn’t even need to bring out those irresistible dimple lines of his. Guess some people are that desperate.

A rough snort makes my nerves tingle. The man beside me shakes his head, his muscular arm barely brushing my shoulder. Oh God. I press two fingers against my heart, alarmed at the galloping speed. How can a mere stranger make me so nervous?

I never felt this way when I first saw Davis. In fact, it took him several months of persistent effort to even convince me to give him a chance.

Should have gone with your gut, girl.

But I didn’t. Over the years, I learned to love him and he learned to unlove me. I push away the hurt and refocus, only to lose my head in the swarm of buzzing emotions I feel about this kind, handsome stranger.

“Thank you for that,” I finally manage to say. I hope he doesn’t hear the nerves in my voice.

“No problem, babe,” he says before his voice roughens. “But don’t confuse me as the hero in your story. I’m not that kind of guy.”

I arch my brows. “Oh, what kind of guy are you?”

He leans toward me, lips brushing against my ear. “You sure you want to find out, babe?”

Oh. My. God.

I reach for my glass, forgetting I already emptied it twice. He chuckles.

“Jerry, give this girl another drink of whatever she’s having and put it on my tab.”

“You don’t have to. I can pay.” I reach for my purse, but he stops me, placing his hand over mine. An electric tingle zaps from his skin to mine, and my lips part.

“I insist, babe.”

I pull away, indignation replacing the tension. What’s the deal with him calling me babe all the time?

“I have a name, you know. It’s Tory.”

“I know. I heard you the first time.” He chuckles again.

“I’m glad I amuse you,” I scoff.

He brushes a lock of hair behind my ear. “Trust me, babe, it’s not amusement I’m feeling right now.”

My heart hammers so loudly I’m sure the entire bar can hear it. Maybe I really will end up in a stranger’s bed. For the third time that night, I drink my glass in one shot. Then, for the first time in over a month, I smile and bat my eyes.

“Then why don’t you show me what you’re feeling?”