Collide (The Barker Triplets 2)

“Where are you going?” Bobbi asked.

Betty shrugged. “Anywhere away from here.” She stepped back. “You used to have that attitude you know. Always up for something new and now you can’t even manage to make it out for a drink. What happened to you?”

Betty left with the questionable Matt, and once again Bobbi was alone in the dark, but as was the way of it here at Chez Barker, not for long. Gramps shuffled in, followed by her father.

“Hey girlie,” Gramps kissed the top of her head as he headed for the trusty rust colored Lazy Boy in the corner—the one that faced the flat screen above the fire place. Her father, Trent, stood a few inches from her, his fingers running up and down his thighs nervously and Bobbi realized with a start, that she was sitting in his spot.

“Daddy, I was just…here, come take your seat.”

She grabbed her blanket and trailed it along after her as she moved out of the way. Trent sank onto the sofa and nodded to his father, Herschel. “It’s about that time.”

Herschel nodded, “Yep.”

“Time?” she asked.

Her father settled in and relaxed with a bowl of popcorn. “Criminal Minds.”

“Oh, right.”

“Aren’t you meeting up with your sister?” It was Herschel asking and Bobbi turned to him with a shrug. “If not, I can always make another bowl of popcorn.”

Bobbi shook her head. “No, that’s alright.” Just standing was enough to get the blood flowing and the pins and needles that plagued her toes was testament to just how much of a couch potato she’d become.

She glanced outside once more, saw her reflection in the mirror and winced. What the hell had happened to her this past week? Was she going to let life kick her in the ass and then stomp all over her? Was she really willing to give up control of everything to the sad woe-is-me feeling inside?

Bobbi tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and shook her head. “Thanks Gramps, but I think I need to get out.”

Her father grabbed a handful of popcorn, glanced her way before focusing on the opening credits. He was about to stuff the white fluffy bits into his mouth when he paused.

“I’d take a shower first if I was you.”

An hour later she was in the parking lot of The Grill. It was nearly nine-thirty and she knew the hockey team her sister played on, the Angry Pirates, were inside because Logan’s truck was parked out front. She’d showered, straightened her hair, took some time with her makeup and had chosen a pair of faded jeans that fit her like a glove. Boot cut, she had paired them with old brown leather Doc’s and a sapphire colored silk peasant blouse. Her distressed leather jacket sported a fur trimmed collar.

The outfit spoke of money and edgy style. She knew she looked good. She just wished she felt as good as she looked.

With a sigh Bobbi dug out her cell phone, but then tossed it back into her purse. It was dead. Uncharged. Just like most everything else in her life.

It was cold and the wind whipped snow and ice past her windshield. She shivered and watched a couple walk into The Grill. Lana Holbrook from the looks of it and was that Logan’s brother, Connor? For a moment her fingers hung on the keys in the ignition. The urge to leave was something awful but then as Connor opened the door for Lana—a simple gesture, nothing more—something unraveled inside her. Some need to connect or to matter to someone and before Bobbi could change her mind, she was out of the car and heading toward the front doors of The Grill.

She paused, for just a second, pulled from the calm waters she’d culled under the hot spray of the shower, and pushed open the door.

After being a shut-in for over a week, it took a few moments for her senses to sharpen. To focus. To realize.

Bobbi’s stomach did that weird, queasy thing and it took a few moments for it to settle.

She saw Billie heading toward her, a look of near panic on her face and no wonder. In that one methodic sweep of the room she’d made eye contact with Shane. He stood near the bar, his tall frame unmistakable, with that wild mess of hair and sexy as hell mouth.

Aware that now nearly everyone in the place was looking her way, Bobbi knew she could do one of two things.

She could turn around without saying a thing and leave.

Or she could stay and make sure that every single person in the bar knew she didn’t give a flying fuck what they thought.

“Are you,” Billie began a tight smile on her face. “Are you alright? I swear I thought Shane was out of town. He didn’t make the game but when we arrived he was here. I’m so sorry…I tried your cell but it went straight to voicemail.”

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Bobbi was jostled from behind and stepped aside as several more patrons filed into The Grill. The exit door hung open—for just a second—then she watched it swing back and close. Her moment to leave gracefully vanished.