Music blares through my radio. Taylor Swift is the soundtrack for my drive home. The car is the only place I listen to her to keep from being ridiculed. Jay is always telling me there is better music out there, and maybe there is. But there's nothing wrong with listening to what makes your heart happy. And this is what makes my heart fill up with joy. Other music does too, but it’s a Swift sort of night.
The apartment complex is quiet when I park my car. Adrian's car, nor his motorcycle, are anywhere in sight. I figured he would be here before I was. Hell, I wouldn't have been surprised if he was hanging out here until I got home. Before, that would have completely freaked me out. Now… I'm happy to be with somebody who is genuinely excited to see me and wants to be around me without controlling my every move.
Grabbing my phone from the cup holder, I throw it in my bag and open the car door. Maybe I can surprise him with nothing but a robe when he gets here. It's definitely something he would appreciate. Hopefully, I still have the rope from when I was in college. It’s nothing fancy or anything like that, but I think it would get the point across. My bed is one of my favorite places to spend time with him. Even if we’re only cuddling and watching movies. Saying the “L” word is a big deal. I want to do something memorable.
One of these days, I'm going to try my hardest to get a ground floor apartment. Walking up these stairs after I have been on my feet all day is getting old. Especially, when I decide to wear boots with wedges instead of a pair of tennis shoes. Not my brightest idea, but I wasn't sure what the atmosphere was going to be like at Brew’s Clues, and I wanted to be prepared.
The keys in my hand jingle as I attempt to find the house keys. I really need to get a separate keychain for the shop. All of the ones I keep up with for Corey constantly get in the way of my own. With the correct one finally in my grasp, I slide it into the door knob at the same time arms wrapped around my waist. I must've been so focused on finding the right key that I didn't hear Adrian come up the steps. “You scared the crap out of me Adrian."
"Sorry. But it's not Adrian." I recognize the voice immediately, and fear shoots up my spine. No, this can't be him.
Spinning around, I'm confronted with the face of the last person I ever wanted to see again. I'm kicking myself for not paying attention to my surroundings like I promised my brother I would. Dawson looms before me, lips quirked up in a sadistic grin. "Hi Sophia, did you miss me?"
"Wh – what are you doing here?" The stutter in my words pisses me off, but I can't help it. Even after all this time Dawson is able to make me cower in fear. I can’t let him see that, though. I need to be strong and brave.
"Don't be like that, baby." He pushes a piece of hair behind my ear and makes a face, disgusted. "I have to say; I’m not loving the new look."
I jerk away from him, my hands moving behind my back to get a grasp on the doorknob. If I’m fast enough I can fall inside and shut the door before he realizes what’s happened. “You don't have a right to tell me what you do and don't like. Now, why are you here?" Hopefully my false bravado will turn into a real sense of fierceness and I can get him out of here without any help.
"Do you have any idea how hard it is to find you alone without your tattooed boyfriend?" Shit, he has been following me all this time. Now I wish I would have skipped book club and done something with Adrian instead. It would've only been a matter of time before he cornered me when I was alone, though. He’s obviously been waiting for his opportunity.
"That still doesn't explain why you are here, Dawson." I can keep him talking, Adrian will be here soon and he can save me. As much as I don't want to be the girl that needs somebody to come to her rescue, right now I absolutely need it.
"Because," Dawson scowled. "It's the only way I can get you to talk to me. I've been waiting, biding my time until that stupid ass restraining order expired. When I saw I had my chance a few months ago, you walked out of that tattoo shop with some guy. And I couldn’t approach you then.”
He's getting angry and nothing good ever comes from that. He doesn't have anything to throw at me. Which is good and bad. There are other ways he can hurt me. I never thought I would long for the day when that would be the best-case scenario. His hands are balled into fists, and I need to do everything I can to keep them from being directed toward me. "Well," I take a deep breath. "You’re here now, what do you want to talk about?"
His hands unfurl and I sigh in relief. "I want to get back together. We can work this out."
Seriously, that’s what he wants to come at me with? It’s been almost two years, and he hasn’t gotten it through his head that we’re over. “We aren’t good together, Dawson.”
“I’ve changed. I promise I have.” He runs his hand down my arm pulling my own hand out from behind me. So much for trying to get inside. “We can give us another try.”
Shaking my head, I look down at my feet. Please, Adrian, hurry up and get here. He leans his free arm against the wall over my head, caging me in so I have nowhere to go. “We aren’t good for each other Dawson. Besides, I’ve moved on. I have a boyfriend now.” Maybe placating him will help in letting him down easy. A car turns onto the small road my apartment is on, but it doesn’t pull into a spot. And my hopes of it being Adrian die. I really need him to get here…soon.
Dawson’s face turns bright red. That wasn’t the right thing to say. “You left me, Sophia.” He slams his hand against the wall, and grips my hand until pain shoots through my fingers. “I didn’t even get a say in whether I wanted that outcome or not.”
“This,” I yell, trying to yank my hand out his hold. “This is why I left. Everything was your way or no way. You’d yell horrible things at me and hurl shit at me when I did something that displeased you. Fuck Dawson, you are doing it now by showing up here and cornering me.” I didn’t mean to unleash on him but I’ve had enough. Let’s hope my barbs don’t cause him to act out.
He releases my hand, but brings his up, ready to strike a blow.