Embers of Torment (Power and Passion #2)

Chapter 3

Della

A nxious, my mind continued to drift while I sat at the stoplight. I hoped tonight's date at the Back Bay bowling and game center would be better than the last one, the one before that, and all my other ridiculous ones of late. My track record was pathetic. I joined that stupid dating app six months ago, and it had yet to work out. Then again, I shouldn't have chosen the site with the cheapest membership fee.

My last date was the worst, and I had no desire for a repeat. The guy was a cutie but stuttered, which didn't bother me at all. What got me was his lying on his application to make himself sound more appealing, even more so when his real personality turned out super different from his online persona.

When I told him I thought he was a decent person, but the evening wasn't working out, he verbally attacked me. According to him, I was an arrogant, obnoxious witch with a phobia for people who stuttered.

I had tried to explain that he was wrong, and I had experience with speech problems and knew firsthand how cruel people could be, but he had labeled me a liar. That hurt even more because what I had confessed to him was the truth.

And here I was, trying it again.

Getting a green arrow, I stepped on the gas and turned left. Midway down the block, I pulled into the parking garage attached to the venue. Adam and I usually frequented the bowling and game center by work, but my date had insisted on meeting at this one instead. Still distracted as I wondered what kind of horror show tonight would turn into, I had to slam on my brakes to avoid hitting a young woman who dashed in front of me to catch up with some dude.

I scowled at her, although she seemed oblivious that I had almost plowed her down. The woman's entire focus was on chasing after the guy, who appeared to be ignoring her. "Monkey muffins," I said with a growl. I would have seen her between the cars if I'd been paying attention. But I hadn't, and I hoped this wasn't the prelude to a rotten night. I parked my Camry as the same old questions ran through my brain.

Is it me? Am I the problem? Am I being overly sensitive and way too picky? Or am I some unappealing version of what my dates are looking for?

Scowling even darker, I exited my car and slammed the door.

It's not me, darn it! I'm a decent person, and I'm loads of fun.

Pulling myself together, I plastered a smile on my lips and entered the venue. My stomach flip-flopped as I hurried toward the bar where Jarod and I were supposed to meet. Doing a quick scan, I spotted a blond-haired, preppy-looking guy sitting on one of the stools in a light blue button-down shirt and jeans. That was Jarod, and it was refreshing to see he hadn't tried to pull one over on me. Unlike some of the guys I had dated, his appearance matched the online profile I viewed. My appreciation downgraded to concern seconds later when I realized he was chatting up the cute bartender with the long blond hair. The woman affectionately touched his arm, leaned in to whisper something, and walked away. Jarod practically fell over the bar as he tried to watch her.

Great…just great! Watching my date ogle someone wasn't the evening I had envisioned.

I cleared my throat. "Jarod?"

He slipped off his barstool and turned to face me. "Oh, hey. You must be Della. You match the photograph in your online profile except…wow…your hair. It's bright pink."

"Yeah, well. That was an old picture of me. My hair used to be blue. I was letting it return to its natural color when I took the photo. I dyed it pink after that."

"I see." Jarod gave me a noticeable once-over, and I could swear I saw disapproval lurking behind his fake smile. "So, are you ready to go bowl?"

"Sure. Let's do it."

Jarod grabbed his drink from the counter and turned to walk away. He stopped when he noticed I wasn't moving.

I tapped the ball of my foot on the wood floor, my hand firmly planted on my hip. "Hey…umm…do you mind if I get a beer first?"

"Why don't we wait til we get our shoes and lane?" Jarod nervously searched the square-shaped bar, his eyes flitting back and forth until they fell on the blonde he had been chatting with when I arrived. Short in stature, she was on the opposite side, partially hidden by the middle counter and its display of glasses and bottles. Her back faced us as she leisurely cleaned the area with a rag. "The bartender is swamped right now. Besides, that'll keep you from having to carry your bottle around while we get our lane and shoes." He walked away, forcing the issue.

I grumbled as I followed. That was a flimsy excuse. The bartender isn't busy. It's more likely he doesn't want Blondie to see me hanging with him. What a jerk!

Jarod reached the bowling rental desk and got in line. I slid into place next to him, and then it hit me. I was making assumptions and acting like the type of person I hated—judgmental, unfair, and mean, to name a few. I detested people like that.

That's not me! What the bejesus am I doing? I'm not even ten minutes into the date. I need to give Jarod and the evening a chance . Smiling, I turned toward him. "I like bowling. This should be fun."

"So do I, and I'm a pro at it. Let's see how you do." Jarod winked at me, the online charmer in him peeking through.

Jarod paid for our games. Then we got our bowling shoes and headed to lane number five. After slipping into my rental footwear, I searched for a ball that worked for me. I didn't want one that was too heavy or overly light. I preferred one I could easily throw, but with enough weight, I could put some power behind it and decimate the pins. I found a turquoise ball that felt about right. Returning to our booth, I placed my ball—now named Louise the pin destroyer—on the rack and took several steps back to wait. Jarod finished programming our names into the online scoring system and raised a questioning brow.

"Do you want to go first, or should I?"

"Go for it. I want to see what I'm up against." I gave him a playful grin while I sat to wait my turn.

Jarod was picking up his ball when a waitperson appeared behind us.

"Hey, there! Can I get either of you something to drink?" she asked.

I glanced at her over my shoulder. "I'd love a Blue Moon."

"Sweet! How about you?" She turned to Jarod.

"I'll have the same. Thanks."

"No problem." The woman walked away humming to I Ain't Worried by OneRepublic as it played overhead.

I scoffed at the irony, wishing I could adopt a positive mindset at the moment. But the tightening in my gut warned me the night wasn't going to turn out well. Sighing uncomfortably, I refocused my attention on my date.

Jarod picked up his ball and got into position. After taking a few seconds to concentrate on the pins, he took four steps toward the foul line and threw his ball. It was a near-perfect throw, knocking down nine of the pins and leaving the number ten pin standing in the far right corner. When Jarod stepped toward the scoring console to wait for his ball, three ladies in the booth beside us snagged my attention as they loudly toasted each other. A few years older than me, they appeared to be having a blast. Spotting me watching them, they grinned and raised their glasses.

I returned a smile.

Jarod took his second throw, sending the number ten pin spinning wildly on its side. Pleased with himself, he did a cute little arm pump before he sat down. Based on his stance, approach, and throw, I could tell he was an expert bowler.

But so was I.

"That was almost flawless." I picked up my ball and gave him a congratulatory smile.

"Thanks. Now let's see what you can do," Jarod snickered behind me.

Planning to do just that, I got into position, concentrated on my strike spot, made my approach, and threw. Watching, I could immediately tell my speed and hook were perfect.

It was a strike.

"Yes, yes, yes!" I bounced up and down, my arms flinging wildly in the air.

The ladies next to us raised their glasses in tribute.

Jarod scowled.

My jubilee was interrupted when our waitperson returned and set our beers on the table. I grabbed one and took a healthy swig while Jarod paid the tab.

Jarod took his turn, which was a repeat of his last one, except this time, he left the number seven pin standing in the far left corner. He picked up the spare.

It was my turn again, and Jarod had me more competitive than ever. I attributed it to his stupid scowl and irritating snicker, and I was determined to win. After getting into position, I approached the lane and threw my ball. My hook was good, but the speed wasn't quite right. Nine pins fell. I held my breath as the ten-pin wobbled…and wobbled. Then it dropped.

Another strike!

"Yes!" My arms flew upward into my standard goalpost position, and I did an exuberant little jig toward our booth.

The ladies next to us hooted and hollered in support.

Jarod gave me another scowl. "Hey, come on. Do you need to make such a spectacle?" His cheeks flushed, and his head swiveled from side to side as he checked out our sudden audience. "Dammit. You've got people staring at us, and it's embarrassing."

"So what? I'm having fun."

"Yeah, well…you look ridiculous, especially with that silly top. At least it matches your hair."

"I'll have you know this is my lucky blouse. What's wrong with it, anyway?" I narrowed my gaze as my irritation shot upward.

"You must like cats, for one thing, since it's covered with them. And the background is such an obnoxiously bright pink, I could probably find you in the dark."

I looked down at my chest. The cotton material was plastered with colorful cartoon felines in various poses. Asshole. I like my frigging blouse.

The redhead of the trio next to us nudged my arm. "Honey, your shirt is adorable. He's the obnoxious one. Ignore him."

Jarod glared at her, his cheeks turning red. His eyes lit with annoyance when he turned to face me and forced a smile. "I'm sorry. Can you please tone it down?"

"Fine." My voice was crisp, and I overly enunciated my one-word reply.

With his body tense, Jarod stepped to the lane and took his turn, bowling a strike. A colossal smirk covered his face when he turned around.

Okay, Mr. Smugass, two can play that game. I got into position and focused on the arrows. Come on, Louise. You can do it. Destroy those frigging pins. I made my approach and threw my ball, but this time, I bowled a split. On my second throw, I only knocked down one of the pins.

Jarod chuckled and appeared gratingly gleeful.

It was my turn to scowl.

I sat in our booth, staring at Jarod's back and willing him to miss the pins, when I heard a commotion next to us. Looking over, I gasped, spotting the black-haired woman of the trio lying facedown in the lane while her ball traveled down the gutter. She rolled onto her back and giggled uncontrollably, her whole body shaking. Her two friends had doubled over, crying with laughter. Unable to stop myself, I joined in the merriment, laughing so hard I snorted.

Jarod stood there staring at me in utter horror. Pulling himself together, he hissed at me, "My God! You snorted like a pig." His face was scarlet when he set his ball down on the rack. "Excuse me. I need to use the restroom." He slinked off, silently scanning the faces watching the three ladies and me.

I bent over, laying my head on my knees as I tried to get it together. It was a tremendous challenge because each time I closed my eyes, I could visualize the woman giggling on the ground and the other two laughing their asses off with her. It didn't help to hear the three of them losing it behind me. After several minutes, we all calmed down, and I sat up. Grabbing a tissue from my purse, I wiped my eyes and looked around.

Jarod wasn't back yet.

I waited. Then I waited some more. Becoming frustrated, I scanned the rental desk, bar, and what I could see of the billiard area. But I couldn't see Jarod anywhere. I was about to get up when the redhead from the booth next to me came over and took a seat. She gave me a sympathetic look and patted my leg. Floored, I stared at her in confusion.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I was returning from the ladies' room just now and spotted your gentleman friend walking out the door with his arm around that blond woman working the bar. I overheard her tell him that her shift had just ended. Was he your boyfriend?"

I felt my face warm as I stammered, "No. He was…umm…this was our first date."

"Well, you're better off without him. That's all I have to say. The guy wasn't worth your time. I'm Sherry, by the way. Those are my two girlfriends, Lucy and Peg. We're on a mom's night out while our husbands watch the kids. You're more than welcome to join us."

"I…umm…appreciate the offer, but I'm taking off. I don't feel like staying."

"I understand. But if you change your mind, come on over. Okay?"

I nodded, even though I had no intention of changing my mind. I was too humiliated, hurt, and shocked to stay. I'd never been ditched on a date before, and I was unsure how to handle it. All I could think about was going home, crawling into bed, and burying myself under the covers. Hiding from the world sounded appealing right about now.

Sherry patted my leg again, got up, and returned to her friends. I picked up my purse and headed for the exit.

Entering the parking garage, I hurried down one of the rows. I abruptly stopped when I spotted my date in a liplock with the bartender. They leaned against a dark Honda Civic with their bodies wrapped around each other. Jarod's hands roamed freely as he practically devoured her mouth. Mortified, I quietly backed away and skirted the structure to get to my car. The last thing I wanted was for him to spot me and see my face. If my expression was anything close to how I felt, it was an added embarrassment I didn't want or need.

My stomach churned as I drove home. After parking in my building's garage, I trudged to the elevator, thoroughly deflated. Reaching my apartment, I flung myself on my bed and covered my head with my pillow. Tonight had been one hell of a Friday night and a date I wished I could forget ever happened. Jarod's mean comments and blatant disrespect for my feelings had hit a raw spot, further opening the already cracked door to memories I preferred to keep buried.

It was as if I could feel the fear, embarrassment, and confusion all over again that had consumed me when I was a relentlessly bullied young girl. Back then, I'd felt cornered and threatened with no one at school sticking up for me. This time, I wasn't alone. I had assistance from the three ladies in the adjacent bowling lane.

Unable to breathe, I pulled the pillow from my face and rolled onto my side as my cell phone dinged. I reached for it, noticing I had a text from Adam. It was a picture of him and Jace in a joint selfie as they played Scrabble at Game Time Cafe. I read the message.

Adam: Hey! I hope you're having fun on your date. Although I wish you were at Game Time with us. Jace is ruthless at Scrabble, and I'd love to see you kick his butt. Trivia question: What is the world's top-scoring single Scrabble move ever? Answer: CAZIQUES.

The corner of my mouth lifted into a smile. Yeah, I wished I'd gone there too.