Page 5 of Sweet Dreams

“It is what it is. I have to let you go, Tee. I’ll talk to you later. Thanks for the call, and I promise next time, you’ll be the first to know anything new.”

“Yeah, okay. Bring Ivory over for supper one night. We need to catch up. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I wish there were something I could do for him. He’s been there for me more than I can count, and I’m useless. Blaine Montgomery needs to fuck off, same with his mother. They aren’t the rulers of this town, and it’s about time someone reminded them of it. It takes everything in me to finish the rest of the day. Trying to smile at customers when you are pissed is more complicated than it seems. All I know is closing time will be a sweet relief.

I’m halfway home when something suddenly feels off. I stop walking and glance over my shoulder. Of course, nobody is there. I’ve officially lost it.

There’s something about this town that I can’t place my finger on. Holden has a way of sucking you in. I wasn’t meant to be here; I should be in the city, living my life to the fullest. Instead, I’m here doing dick shit, chasing zero dreams. I’m dreamless.

Fuck I hate this town. Every person is annoying, sticking their nose in your business. And the one that is the worst is that cunt, Elma. I certainly don't help matters by constantly popping up wherever she happens to be. I love seeing the old hag lose her shit when I show up. It’s how I keep myself entertained.

What else am I supposed to do here?

Most days, I catch myself loitering at the bookstore more than I care to admit. And that’s saying a lot coming from someone who’s not exactly bookworm material. But then there’s Teagan. There’s something about her that gets me hooked. From the moment she noticed me, she didn’t do the typical small-town move of running in the opposite direction. No, she actually welcomed me with a smile so sweet it could melt ice. And those dimples of hers? Let’s just say they had me weak in the knees. She’s the real deal. Genuine in a world full of fakes.

But deep down, I know she’ll never go for a guy with a shady past like me. It’s just not in the cards. It’s never going to happen. If any of the guys show up, I’m screwed, it’s another reason why I had to move, the past can’t follow me. If it does, I won’t think twice about packing and leaving. I’ll be nothing in this town. That’s why I need to stay a mystery. The less people who know about me and my past, the better it’ll be for me.

My burner phone rings for the umpteenth time, and I have no desire to answer it. What I should do is throw it away. But every time I try, something holds me back. I can’t let the past go. The survivalist in me needs a fallback, and if shit ever hit the fan, I know the old life would be there with its arms wide open, waiting for me. I'm determined to banish it from mythoughts and live free from its grip. Yet, no matter how hard I try to shove it out, it always manages to sneak back in through the tiniest openings. It's like a relentless game of hide and seek with my sanity.

I can’t handle being cooped up in the house any longer; I’ve reached my limit. Cabin fever is creeping in fast, and it’s only been a few days. I’m about to lose my marbles. Then again, if I leave the house, it’s not like I’ll find anything exciting to do. As much as I love pissing Elma off, I can’t always keep doing it. I’m surprised she hasn’t sent the cops after my ass yet.

I watch from the living room window the wind whip the loose leaves around the street and contempt about leaving. But if I don’t leave, I’m about to lose my marbles, and I’ll be talking to the fuckin’ walls soon. I grab my hoodie from the back of the sofa and dread my decision. I can’t be a hermit for the rest of my life, even if that’s what I want most.

There’s something about Main Street Holden that sets it apart. It’s like living in a real-life Hallmark movie. Every shop is decked out with cheesyautumn décor, like every shop owner got a memo saying,“Fall has arrived, so throw up some decorations!”I wouldn’t want to own a business here. My decorations would be lacklustre if I even bothered trying. It seems like a lot of work. God, I am not looking forward to seeing what happens at Christmas. For all I know, it’s gonna look like Santa bent over and took a shit, and Santa Ville fell out.

Before anything registers, I find myself outside of The Dancing Goat Bookshop. A particular blonde owner always manages to draw me back in. I must be crazy to keep returning; maybe I should've just picked up my phone.

I can’t always be running to Teagan when I’m bored. I need to find a hobby or something, and reading isn’t one of them. No matter how hard I try, I can’t resist Teagan’s irresistible charm. I’m like a dog in heat, unable to stay away.

Stepping inside the bookshop, I take a deep inhale. Something about the way books smell calms me. Even though I’m not an avid reader, it’s calming in this shop. Or maybe it’s the owner that calms the inner demons.

I watch a few customers mill around the shop, picking up books, kids running around wanting something, and their parents telling them no. A few catch me watching and pull their kids closer to theirside like I’m a predator. I’ve never had a parent pull their kid into their side before; this town is unbelievable.

I move down another aisle, trying to avoid any other mishap, when I bump into an asshole taking up the entire space.

“Watch it, you no good for nothing asshole,” a stocky, muscular bald guy says to me.

“Excuse me? I’m minding my business. Maybe you should try it.” I stand to my full 5’9” height, shoving one hand into my pocket, showing him I’m not giving a fuck.

He looks around like he wants a crowd to watch him, but no one can be bothered. “I was trying it until you ran into me.” He raises his voice, now drawing the attention of a few people from the next aisle.

“If your wanna-be muscles weren’t in the way, this wouldn’t be a problem. Find a gym, bro.”

He clenches a fist, all while I still haven’t moved a muscle. If he thinks that will intimidate me, he has another thing coming. I’ve been hit with worse than a fist.

“You’re lucky we’re in a store and not on the streets, or I would’ve kicked your ass.”

Ismile and nod. “Okay, bud. Whatever you need to tell yourself to get through the day. But if you wanna take this outside, I’m game.”

“Problem, gentlemen?” Teagan interrupts our manly fight.

“No, ma’am. I was just leaving.” He leaves giving me a dirty look.

I salute the prick as he walks away.

“Seriously, Silas. Did you need to stroke your ego?

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