Saint-Rock High Book 3: A Second Chance To Move On

BRUCE

“Who the hell is this?” I bark into the phone, my voice gruff with sleep. I glance at the alarm clock on my nightstand—it’s one in the morning. I’m on the verge of hanging up and returning to my dreams when a familiar voice stops me.

“Uhmm, sorry I don’t know why I called…” The voice is soft, hesitant, and unmistakably Alice’s.

“Alice, baby, is that you?” I ask, my voice softer now. I hadn’t meant to call her “baby” out loud. I wonder if she noticed.

I hear a cacophony of sounds in the background. I rub my eyes, trying to shake off the sleep.

“Where are you? Are you okay?” I ask, my concern for her overriding my need for sleep.

“I am at Puzzle13!” she slurs. I remember Levi mentioning that place.

“I’m sorry to have woken you up. I don’t know why I called…bye.” She sounds drunk, and I can’t just let her be. I throw off the covers and start getting dressed.

There’s something about Alice that gets to me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Her bright blue eyes were the first thing that drew me in.

I’ve tried to fight it, telling myself she’s too young, that she’d never go for someone like me.

As I drive to Puzzle13, I find myself cursing the traffic. How can a small town like this have traffic at this hour? Or maybe I’m just too anxious to get to Alice.

When I finally get there, I scan the room until I spot her at the bar, talking to some guy. Damn it! Maybe I shouldn’t have come. But I can’t just leave her there.

I decide to sit closer, just to make sure she’s okay.

“…You know, being an angel and all that. Because a woman as pretty as you must have to be an angel.” The guy is laying it on thick. I can’t help but snort at his cheesy line.

Alice sounds annoyed, which is a relief.

“What handsome, I know I’m handsome. You and I are both attractive people. We could do something about that.” The guy continues, oblivious to her discomfort.

Enough is enough.

“What’s your name?” Alice asks him. I feel a pang of jealousy. Is she interested in him? I can’t bear to watch this.

“Dillon, Stuart Dillon,” he replies. I watch Alice’s body language. She seems annoyed, which is a relief. I decide it’s time to step in.

“Hey, baby. Sorry if I’m late. I was caught up in work,” I lie, not caring about the deception. The question is, will Alice play along?

“It’s okay, honey, I understand,” she plays along, much to my relief. I can’t help but smile inwardly.

I turn my attention to Dillon, giving him a look that clearly says ‘back off’. I sound like a possessive boyfriend, which I’m not.

Dillon finally gets the hint and leaves. “Every time, every time,” he mutters as he moves on to his next target.

“What are you doing here?” Alice asks, her tone sharp. I can tell she regrets her outburst.

“I was worried about you after your phone call. So I came to pick you up and bring you back to your place,” I reply, trying to sound casual.

Alice stands up and walks toward me. She grabs my coat collar, her eyes filled with a strange intensity.

“Why are you always so nice to me?” she asks. I can’t resist touching her anymore. I reach out and stroke her cheek, my thumb tracing the soft skin.

I want to kiss her, to lose myself in her. But the smell of alcohol on her breath stops me. I’ll kiss her when she’s sober.

“Because I was worried about you. That’s as simple as that,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

I don’t wait for her to reply. I take her hand and lead her out of the bar. We arrive at her place and I help her out of the car.

I unlock her door and we’re greeted by a gray cat. “Hello, little fella. Don’t worry, I’m only here to help your mistress,” I say, smiling at the cat.

“Alice, where’s your bedroom?” I ask, realizing how that must sound. She looks at me and smiles.

“Why? Do you want me?” she asks, her voice teasing. I do want her, more than anything.

She starts to dance around me, leading me toward her room. I keep reminding myself that it’s the alcohol, not her.

Alice falls asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow. I kiss her forehead and whisper a soft goodnight.

“Good night, Scott,” she murmurs in her sleep. Scott? Who’s Scott? I look around her room and my eyes land on a picture frame. That must be him.

I cover Alice with a blanket and leave her room, the cat following me. I set an alarm on my phone, planning to leave before she wakes up. I’ll make sure she’s okay, even if Scott isn’t here to do it.

The break of dawn hadn’t graced the sky when I stirred awake. I figured I’d whip up some breakfast for her before I took off, knowing full well she’d likely be nursing a hangover after the kind of night she’d had.

The faint rustling from her room had me quickening my pace, eager to finish up before she caught me in the act. I managed to set her breakfast on the table, a note of explanation nestled next to it.

But the realization that she wasn’t alone in her life anymore hit me hard. It didn’t feel right for me to linger around any longer.

I knew then that I had to let her go.