“I believe you, but I loathe drama and tend to run a mile from it. You seem to attract it wherever you go.”
“I don’t purposely invite it.”
“I know it comes with the territory,” I admit, sweeping my hair over my shoulders. “You don’t have a choice, but I do.”
“I’m really sorry, Stevie. You got caught in the crossfire last night, and it wasn’t fair.”
“It wasn’t, and if that’s the way it always is, I won’t ever be hanging out with you at gigs. I won’t be a target.”
“I won’t let it happen again, and though it’ll be difficult, I’ll stop watching you when I’m on stage.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t help. I was on the receiving end of some hostile looks in the bathroom from girls who noticed your attention was on me.”
“Can I be honest with you?” he asks as the bubbly waitress returns with my latte.
I wait for her retreat before answering. “I always want honesty—no matter how much it might hurt.”
“I’m trying to respect your wishes and be your friend even though we both know I want more. But you’re sending out mixed signals. Last night, you were pissed, and it’s not really what I’d expect from someone who says she’s only my friend.”
“I’m a little conflicted, but you’re right. It’s not fair to give you mental whiplash. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
He looks a little crestfallen as he nods, and I feel like a bit of a bitch. “Can I askyousomething?” I inquire as I taste my drink.
“I always want honesty too, and you can ask me anything at any time.”
“Why are you so into relationships? Most guys I meet are more interested in working their way through the entire female student body than dating and getting attached to any girl. You and Will aren’t like that, and I’m curious.” I know not all college students are interested in partying and playing the field, but based on my limited experience of college life, Will and Garrick are more the anomaly than the norm.
Leaning back in his chair, he shrugs. “I’ve never given it much thought. I’m just not into the whole hookup scene. Girls throwing themselves at me, purely for bragging rights, breaks me out in a cold sweat. I was too young to remember much about my parents’ relationship, but I’ve grown up watching my dad with my stepmom, and I think deep down I’ve always tried to replicate what they have. They’re happy. Unlike my mom who recycles boytoys and husbands on a regular basis. That’s not what I want for my life. I want intimacy and someone I can connect to on multiple levels. I want something real, not temporary gratification.”
“Wow. That’s hardcore for someone so young.”
He shrugs again, and his mouth kicks up at the corners. “I told you I know what I want, and I always go after it.” His goldish-brown eyes convey everything he’s not saying as he stares at me with steely determination before dropping his gaze briefly to my mouth.
“We’ve both been influenced by our parents’ experiences.” I swirl a spoon in my latte as I contemplate it. “I’m determined to not be like my mom when it comes to relationships, and you want a relationship like the one your dad has with your stepmom. Those goals are not in sync.”
“I don’t see it like that at all.” He rests his hands on top of the table as he holds my gaze. His long, slender fingers gently tap out a silent beat. His grin returns full force along with those damned dimples. I swear he knows what they do to me, and he does it on purpose to fuck with my head. “If you really think about it, it all boils down to the same thing. We both want something meaningful and long-lasting.”
“That doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be distracting.”
“The right guy won’t be a distraction. He’ll be a support. This might sound a little cheesy,” he adds, shooting me a goofy grin. “But he’ll want you to soar to dizzy heights and do what he can to help you reach them.”
Pushing my empty mug to one side, I concede he’s good at this. Perhaps he should be a lawyer. He almost has me believing it. I wet my lips and just put it out there. “And you think that’s you?”
He doesn’t hesitate to reply, exuding the confidence I now associate with him. “I think that guy could be me, yeah.” Stretching across the table, he removes a stray strand of red hair from my face, tucking it tenderly behind my ear. Sincerity oozes from his pores when he says, “We’re a lot more compatible than incompatible. You just need to open yourself up to the possibility we could be so damn good together.”
ChapterTwelve
Garrick
Abell chimes as I step through the door of the floral shop in Eugene. Butterfly Flowers is one of several florists in the area, but the only one the woman I seek works at. Stevie is behind the counter, chatting with an older coworker as they wrap up an order. Her head lifts at the sound of approaching footfalls, an automatic smile already painted on her lips. It could be my imagination, but I swear her eyes light up and her grin expands when she sees it’s me.
“Garrick, hey. What are you doing here?”
Her coworker’s eyes are out on stalks as she blatantly checks me out. The blue-haired woman wears quirky glasses with purple frames, and a flirtatious smile toys on her thin lips. Both women are wearing branded T-shirts and jeans behind their aprons.
“I’m in the market for flowers, and I’ve heard there’s a discount for friends of the staff,” I joke, not giving a flying fuck about any discount. I just needed to see Stevie. Now classes are out, and we have some time off before exams start, I’ve had no excuse to see her this week. Though it’s only Wednesday and we had coffee on Sunday, I’m suffering huge withdrawal symptoms.
I have it bad.
