“Leave,” I tell him.
Tristan grabs the pair of pants hanging on the side of the couch. I’m not sure who or what to believe at the moment, but I wish I could have avoided this entire scene.
Without bothering to pull his pants back on, Tristan slips out the way I assume he came in, through the slider. He runs off like he’s stepping on hot coal. “And that’s how we scare them off, girl.”
“Kricket, that’s a little too much. Don’t you think?”
“I didn’t touch him inappropriately. I know where to draw the line. That’ll teach him not to look in our windows again, won’t it?”
She’s like an ant trap. I guess that might be the irony of her name being Kricket …
Chapter 10
Somehow this has already feltlike the longest day ever, and all I did was snag a job, call an Uber, purchase a pair of black shorts and a white polo, then grow a little more concerned about my living environment. I also managed to find curtains for all the windows, and a selection of bath-bombs and candles because hiding in a garden-size tub seems like the best distraction from everything happening outside of the bathroom.
Apparently, I shouldn’t be thinking these thoughts out loud though because now the doorbell is ringing. I’m just glad no one is looking in through the back-slider now that I finished hanging curtains, due to today’s debacle with Tristan.
I open the door, finding Max, the oral surgeon, standing in front of me with a bunch of roses. I’m surprised I remembered his name seeing how many names I've learned in the past few days.
“May I come in?” A bit forward. I noticed this the other night, though.
“I was just about to—” Nope, not telling him I was about to take my clothes off and get into the bathtub. God only knows he’d probably take it as an invitation. “I’m kind of busy.”
“Ah, well, I just wanted to stop by and bring you these flowers,” he says, handing them to me.
“Wow, thank you. The flowers are beautiful.” I’m not sure if my lackluster response is as apparent as it feels.
“You’re beautiful,” he says.
I glance down at my sweatpants and the stained t-shirt I adorn. “Um, thanks,” I think.
Max continues staring into my eyes as if there is another world he’s discovering for the first time. They’re just eyes, dude.
“You have something—” he says, reaching for my face. I recoil and pull back.
“What? What’s on my face?” I swat at my cheek, hoping there isn’t a bug or something.
“No, no, here, let me—”
His hand makes contact with my cheek, and he leans forward as if he’s trying to see something. I’m relieved when his face slips to the side of mine because if he were any more centered, I would have punched him in the stomach for trying to kiss me.
He smells like he doused himself in cheap cologne.
“Got it,” he says, pulling a flower petal out from behind my ear.
“Not only can I fill holes, but I can pull things out of holes too.”
“Okay, Max, your jokes are raunchy and not funny, at all. I’m not interested in you, and you need to go take a cold shower,” I tell him, patting my hand against his chest. “Thank you for the flowers, though.”
“Come on, let me take you out for dinner, please?”
And he’s begging.
“No, I’m eating alone tonight,” I tell him, pointedly.
“You don’t have to,” he continues.
“Oh, no, I want to,” I assure him.
