Chapter 49

I froze. I was a nice person? His words echoed in my brain. Nice? Person? Okay, it wasn't an insult or anything. But it was nothing like what I'd been hoping to hear.

Still, I tried to smile. "Thanks. I, uh, think you're a nice person, too."

He frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

And it was true. Absolutely nothing was wrong. It was fine. I was just a little disappointed, that's all.

I mean, when I fantasized about someone, I never found myself thinking, "Oh, take me to heaven, you nice person, you."

I lifted my wine glass and took a long, steady drink before returning it to the flat surface of the railing. Already, the glass was half-empty. Or was it half-full?

In my current state-of-mind, I didn't want to speculate.

I cleared my throat. "So, I guess I'd better get talking, huh?"

Joel studied my face. "You know I meant that as a compliment, right?"

"Sure. I know." I ran a nervous hand through my hair. "And I meant it as a compliment, too." Pushing aside my disappointment, I said, "Seriously, you've been really great." I thought of my car, now sitting miraculously in my driveway. "And your brothers, too. They're, uh, also nice. For helping, I mean."

What the hell was I even saying? Only one brother had helped, and Joel hadn't been happy about it. But my mind was so jumbled, I could hardly think. I was nice. Joel was nice. His brothers were nice. Cripes, who'd be nice next? Attila the Hun?

Joel said, "Except they're not nice. You need to remember that."

Distracted by my own stupidity, I murmured, "Uh, right. What are they again?"

He frowned. "The opposite of nice."

Still preoccupied, I murmured, "Nasty?"

He stared at me for a long moment, looking almost disturbed.

Damn it. Now, too late, he had my full attention, and I was wishing that I could take back that last comment. That particular word, nasty, after all, did have certain sexual connotations. But at least it was more interesting than "nice."

The way some people looked at it, nasty was exciting. It was bold and daring. It broke taboos and shattered conventions. As for me, I'd never gone the nasty route, and probably wouldn’t succeed at it, even if I tried.

And I knew why.

Joel was right. I was nice. 

Boring.

Civilized.

Conventional.

Like a four-door sedan or a Saint Bernard.

My shoulders sagged. No wonder he was taking it slow. I was a nice person, heaven help me.

Joel reached for his own glass and took an even longer drink than I had. When he returned the glass to the railing, it was nearly empty.

Well, this was just great. I'd driven him to drink.

Looking to say something, I said, "Wow, you must really like cabernet, huh?"

"Something like that."

From the look on his face, the "something" was the need to wash away something unpleasant. I knew what it was – my stupid "nasty" comment. See? Even when I used the term, I was an utter failure.

Probably, he was picturing his brothers naked or something. From the look on his face, it was an image he didn't enjoy.

I could totally relate. Sure, they were great-looking at all, but they weren't the ones who kept me awake at night, with thoughts that made me blush in the light of day.

And now, I'd put the wrong X-rated images into Joel's head. No wonder he looked disturbed. If I had brothers, I wouldn't want to think of them as nasty, with all of the naked implications that went along with it.

Hoping to break the tension, I tried to make a joke of it. "Nasty brothers." I gave a nervous laugh. "Like with no clothes on or something. I mean, who wants to picture that, right?"

Now, it was his turn to freeze. "What?"

I cleared my throat. "I mean, because nasty and naked kind of go together, you know?"

He was still staring, looking even less happy now.

Desperate for a recovery, I blurted out, "Not that I'm thinking of them naked or anything."

He stared at me for a long moment. And then, in a tight voice, he said, "Good to know."

It was definitely time for me to shut up. If I were an airplane, I'd be going down in flames, big-time. I reached for the only parachute I had – my glass of wine. I lifted it to my lips and downed the rest of it. I returned the now-empty glass to the railing and looked longingly at the bottle. If I grabbed it and guzzled, would that be nasty? Or just pathetic?

Pathetic, definitely.

Reluctantly, I looked back to Joel. His expression was so cold, it gave me a shiver.

Talk about awkward. The more I talked, the less he liked it. At this point, I didn't even know what to say. What was that old phrase? When you find yourself in a hole, the first thing you should do is stop digging?

I mentally threw away my shovel, along with any hope of not looking like a complete imbecile.

After a long, tense moment, Joel asked, "Which one were you picturing?"

"What?" I felt my eyes widen in horror. "Oh, my God. You don't mean your brothers, do you?"

Joel gave a loose shrug. "You brought it up. Not me."

Suddenly, I was wishing I had dug a hole, the real kind, so I could throw myself into it and hide from my humiliation.

And now, heaven help me, I had to explain. It was either that, or let him think that I'd been dreaming of his brothers in the buff.

I tried to smile. "I brought it up, because you looked bothered by my stupid 'nasty' comment. It just made me wonder what you were picturing." I looked away. "So I was trying to lighten things up. You know?"

Right. Because nothing says "smile" like "Let's envision your brothers naked."

Joel's voice, softer now, reclaimed my attention. "That's not the thing that was bothering me."

I turned to look. "Then what was?"

"You looked hurt, and I didn't know why. I still don’t." He studied my face. "What'd I say?"

He looked so sincere that I had to confess. "Don't get me wrong. I'm glad that you think I'm a nice person." I hesitated. "It's just that I know that's not very exciting." I tried to laugh. "But I guess we can't all be the life of the party, huh?"

"You think 'nice' is a bad thing?"

"No. Of course not. I mean, we all want nice friends, right?"

Joel leaned closer. "Let me tell you a secret."

"What?"

"I don't like you as a friend."

Even though I'd already suspected as much, his words were a balm to my jangled nerves. And yet, he was missing the point, so I tried again. "Right. I mean, I know, because we've kissed and stuff. So it's not like I think you're repulsed by me or anything."

"Repulsed? You're kidding, right?"

Damn it. The more I talked, the worse I sounded. "I'm just saying, nice isn't terribly sexy, you know?" My face was flaming now. If I was lucky, the darkness hid the worst of it. And if I was unlucky? I only prayed he had a tomato fetish.

Joel looked at me for a long moment. "You're wrong."

"I am?"

He nodded. "Wanna know what I think?"

"What?"

"Nice girls? They're sexy as hell."