“How do you know I can’t buff it right out?” she replies, and it’s evident she’s taking offense to my chauvinistic offer.
I place my hands on my hips and widen my stance. “You know, I don’t recall trying to be an asshole to you, at least not in the way you’re responding to everything I say. In fact, I have tried hard to be nice to you despite your inability to reciprocate.”
Journey huffs with aggravation, rolling her eyes up toward the sky. “Brody, why are you trying so hard to reconnect with me?”
I could remind her that she made the first move at the school, but I’ve said it enough times. She knows what she did. She re-sparked something that never fizzled out all the way.
“I don’t know,” I say. I’m not sure how else to answer at this point. I feel the need to break down her wall and I’m not one to give up.
“Well, that clears everything up,” she says.
“You know, by the way you speak to me, you’d think I did something as horrible, likesteal your Jeep and return it in pieces, but I haven’t done a damn thing, so what’s your problem?”
She turns her back to the Jeep, facing me. The sun blares its mid-morning rays into her eyes, turning the green hues to turquoise. “I can’t do this. I’m not in a place where I can offer someone attention or friendship. Rather than lead you on, I figure it’s best to keep things simple.”
“You kissed me,” I remind her. Again. Like I wasn’t going to.
“Yeah, I don’t know why I did that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I had an urge and acted on it, and I shouldn’t have. It was a mistake, and I apologize for being inappropriate.”
Ouch. I wish I hadn’t brought it back up again. I think I’d prefer wondering what initially sparked her desire. I hold my hands up in defense. “Okay, okay, point taken. I’ll back off.”
With a couple steps back, I prepare to turn back for my truck and leave her be, but there’s a squint to her eye. Maybe it’s the sun, or maybe she’s thinking she’s wrong.
“Why were you waiting here, anyway?” This is where she bates me back in so she can sucker punch me once more.
I can take it.
“I wanted to see if we could go grab a coffee?”
Journey’s gaze floats across the street to the coffee shop. “I’m not up for any deep meaningful conversations or epiphanies about life,” she says.
“We don’t have to talk at all. I know you like coffee, and I like coffee, so I figured what the hell, if two people enjoy coffee, they should just have one together, right?”
She’s breaking at the seam. I can see it.
“Fine, but you’re paying,” she says.
“Only if I can borrow three bucks.” I take a step forward and playfully nudge her at the shoulder.
“I figured that would be the case,” she says. I hope that her words are just another bout of sarcasm, and not because she thinks I’m a lowlife who has accomplished nothing and can’t afford to buy her a cup of coffee. “I have to grab my purse out of my car. One second.”
“You keep your purse in your—unlocked car?” I ask, watching her open the driver’s door without unlocking the doors.
“Who will take it around here?”
“Do you know every single person in this town or anyone who might drive through, looking for trouble?”
“Yup,” she says.
“Cool.” While she’s digging for her purse, I open the app on my phone for the coffee shop and place an order for two and pre-pay.
In silence, Journey retrieves her purse and closes her car door. I decide it’s best not to mention locking her Jeep. Instead, I follow her toward the street. A car flies by and the coast is clear, which instinctively causes my hand to land on her lower back as she steps off the curb. Journey stops short in the street and twists around to look at my hand. I retract my arm and shove my hand in my pocket. “Sorry, it’s a bad habit of being a gentleman. I won’t do it again.”
Somehow, we make it to the coffee shop twenty feet away. I didn’t think there was a chance in hell we’d walk through this door together. “What do you want?” she asks.
“I already ordered us both coffees. They should be ready at the pickup counter,” I say, opening the glass door for her.
A sidelong glance and a couple of small steps, and we’ve made it to our destination. Journey approaches the pickup counter ahead of me and peeks at the slips before grabbing both cups. “Thank you for the coffee,” she says. “Do you still need the three dollars?” Her eyebrow arches with question.
