Say It Ain't So (SWAT Generation 2.0 9)

“Yes, ma’am,” my father drawled as he took his seat.

I sat in the one next to him, making sure that I had a good view of the table in front of me.

At that table was an older couple, Hastings, and another woman that had to be Hastings’ sister if the resemblance was anything to go by.

“All right, Misty will be right out to take y’all’s orders,” she said as she left.

That was when the rest of our group sat around us, but I was too busy looking at the girl to notice or care.

“We want to order an appetizer?” Ford asked.

“The meat platter looks good,” my father replied.

Hastings surreptitiously looked over her shoulder.

I caught her gaze and she scowled before turning back around.

Her hands were fidgeting in her lap, and it was only when I looked down at the ground that I could see the pieces of her napkin falling to the ground as she ripped it to shreds.

My lips twitched.

“What’s so fascinating?” my father asked, momentarily bringing my gaze to him.

I looked from my dad to my cousin, then to my uncle.

We were out riding today.

It was a sunny fall day in the middle of September, and for once it wasn’t blazing hot outside.

We would be at a turning point for our weather, soon. From now on, we wouldn’t be experiencing any one-hundred-degree weather. Though, nineties wasn’t going to be unheard of. It would all be downhill from here, and likely we wouldn’t have another day like today.

So, we’d gone for a ride on our bikes.

I’d thought that the day would be good, that I’d be able to think about something other than what had been on my mind for the last couple of days—hell, if I was being honest, weeks—but then I’d seen her car in the parking lot.

Hastings.

The girl that avoided me like the fucking plague since I’d seen her pull into her driveway earlier in the week.

Honestly, it pissed me off way more than it probably should have.

“Nothing,” I muttered darkly.

My father rolled his eyes and then turned to his brother.

“So, I’m going to try to get Trance on a plane to Las Vegas to visit our parents next month. You down?” my father asked Foster.

Ford snorted when he heard what his uncles planned to do with his father.

“He’s hoping that you’ll forget he exists,” Ford teased. “I heard him tell my mom over the phone last week that he plans on heading out of town when we head over.”

Foster rolled his eyes. “We’ll find his ass. He can’t run from us.”

The men chuckled at the table, and I once again found my gaze focusing on the girl across from me.

Hastings looked once again over her shoulder, flushed red, and then stood up.

“Excuse me, I have to use the restroom.” She paused.

Nobody paid her any mind as she got up and walked away.

No one but me, anyway.

I waited for her to go into the bathroom all the way across the concrete before getting up and following her.

Instead of going to the men’s bathroom, though, I shoved my way into the women’s.

Well, I was about to, and then thought better of it.

I didn’t need to be poking my nose back into things that had to do with Hastings.

What I needed to do was stay away.

So, instead of waiting like I’d planned, I went ahead and did my own thing in the men’s bathroom before coming out.

When I came back out, it was only seconds behind Hastings, which allowed me to watch the sway of her ass and hips as she walked in front of me back to her table.

“Fuck,” I heard her say as she looked at my table and didn’t spot me.

Her steps faltered a bit, and she nearly came to a complete standstill before she started walking again, this time with an obvious dejectedness to her.

Was she sad that I wasn’t there anymore? Did she think that I went home?

Whatever the answer to that question was, I knew that I should control myself when it came to her.

The more time that I spent with Hastings, the more I realized that I wanted way more than I’d ever wanted from another woman before.

I stepped a little harder than I’d intended to step in the next instant, and it caused her to look over her shoulder.

When she saw me, her lips parted, and she stared for half a beat.

Then, right before my eyes, the tiniest of smiles graced her lips before she started moving forward again.

When she got to her table, it was to come to a sudden halt at the front of the table.

“We moved the table a bit,” her sister said. “The sun was right in my eyes.”

For some reason, I didn’t think that was the case.

I had a feeling that the sister wanted to move the table because of me, and not anything to do with the sun being in her eyes.