- Gemma -
He wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Every time I insisted I could make my own way to dinner, he pretended he couldn’t hear me. And when he finally fixed his eyes on me Saturday morning and asked why I was so hell bent on depriving him of a few extra minutes of my company, I realized I didn’t have a good answer.
So here I was, peeking through the blinds of Jeanie’s living room, waiting for him to pull up. It wasn’t until he got out and stood beside the car, his hands in his pockets as his eyes swept over the building, that I realized how nervous I was.
I don’t know why. It was just dinner with an old friend, right? Except it was more than that. It was dinner with the first boy who ever made me feel like a girl, and while he’d never know what those summers of friendship meant to me, having him back in my life had made me feel more buoyant than I had in years.
And I needed that right now like crazy, especially after the way Ray tore me down for so long. God knows why I stayed with him. I knew every time he cussed me out, talked down to me, and called me names that I deserved better. Yet I took it from him time and time again.
I was still trying to figure it out. Was it because I thought he was the only one that had the guts to tell me the truth to my face? Was it because, on some level, I did believe that I was worth less because I was overweight, that I deserved less because I struggled with self-discipline? It was hard to say. All I knew was that there were worse things than being alone, and now that I’d experienced them firsthand, I wasn’t afraid anymore.
I’d hit rock bottom and gotten back up. I’d survived. And things were finally looking up for the first time since that ill-fated night we met. I remember how he’d defended me at the bar when his friend said, “You look like you could swallow my whole dick and still have room for dessert.” To think I thought he was a nice guy…
If only I’d known then that nice guys aren’t friends with people who talk like that.
I forced the awful memory from my mind as I made my way down the stairs to the entryway, careful not to eat shit in my heels. Perhaps I’d overdone it with the emerald dress and the makeup and the shaving every stray hair on my body, but Alex had seen grimy, fresh-faced me all week. I wanted him to know I was capable of a little glamour and that my wardrobe wasn’t all workout clothes.
He must’ve wanted to demonstrate the same, because he was wearing a crisp white button-up shirt that fit him so well my mouth started to water before I reached the curb.
“You look stunning,” he said, pressing his cheek to mine.
My face burned. “Thanks.”
“If I’d known you had a dress like that up your sleeve, I would’ve begged to take you out on Tuesday.”
I rolled my eyes as he opened the passenger door, avoiding his intense gaze as I took a seat in the compact car. After he closed me in, I studied the fit of his dark jeans as he walked around to the driver’s side, my stalking eyes interrupted only briefly by the platypus Beanie Baby on the dashboard.
He sank into the driver’s seat and turned the key, which was attached to a platypus keychain, too.
“I didn’t know you were such a fan of the platypus.”
He laughed, and my stomach flipped when his eyes crinkled at the edges. “I’m not. This is my mom’s car.”
“Oh.”
“Mine’s in the shop.”
“Nice of her to let you borrow hers,” I said, picking up the scent of his aftershave in the enclosed space.
“Yeah,” he said, checking his mirrors before pulling out into traffic. “She’s the best.”
I studied his large hands on the wheel and wondered what if would feel like to have him squeeze me like that. When a curl of heat rose through my stomach, I turned my attention out the windshield and reminded myself that I shouldn’t get my hopes up.
Not only was it ridiculous to think this would be the start of anything besides a rekindled friendship, it wasn’t even an option. We worked together now, and my job was literally the only part of my life that hadn’t been completely derailed in the last year.
“So where are we headed?” I asked.
“There’s this place I’ve been dying to try in the West Loop.”
I raised my eyebrows. It never occurred to me that he might take me all the way downtown.
“That’s why I was so adamant about picking you up.”
“We really don’t have to go to that much trouble. I’d be fine with local grub.”
He stopped at a red light. “Well, that makes one of us,” he said, turning to me. “I cringe at the quality of the meals we’ve enjoyed together in the past.”
One side of my mouth curved up. “Is that your way of telling me that there won’t be any dry cornbread at this place?”
“No dry cornbread and no watery beans.”
I scrunched my face at the memory of the way the camp food used to lie lifeless on those tarnished metal trays.
“I called ahead to make sure.”
“At least tell me there’ll be juice boxes?”
He shuddered. “I forgot about those.”
“They weren’t so bad.”
He dropped his chin.
“Okay, fine,” I said, raising my hands in surrender. “They were the worst. Especially the grape flavor.”
“This place has a reputation for having an extensive beer menu, actually.”
“I’m more of a wine girl myself.”
“I was hoping.”
“Excuse me?”
“Getting you drunk is part of the plan.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Not too drunk,” he said, his concentration on the road ahead as he turned onto Lake Shore Drive. “I don’t want to have to carry you to bed on the first date.”
My mouth fell open. “That’s very presumptuous.”
“Just drunk enough that you admit you used to have a huge crush on me.”
“I did not,” I lied, hoping it was dark enough that my red cheeks might go undetected.
His face fell. “Really? ’Cause I really liked you back then and totally thought I had a chance.”
I pressed my lips together and bit down.
He turned his head and checked me out. “I still like to think I do, to be honest.”
“I can’t tell if you’re teasing me or flirting with me.”
“What’s the difference?” he asked, obviously pleased with himself.
“This isn’t a date, Alex. We work together. I don’t want you to put me in an awkward position.”
“That’s a shame. I’ve thought of nothing else all week.”
My heart felt like little kitten paws were pattering all over it.
“Speaking of which, how do you think I did this week?” He changed lanes, seemingly unfazed by how much his previous comments had made me squirm. “Be honest.”
“I think if you spent half as much time working as you did schmoozing the female members, you’d be a half-decent employee.”
“Is that so?” he asked, a wide grin splitting his chiseled face.
“You said be honest.”
“Do you mean to tell me you’re jealous of Mrs. Rogers?”
“I’m not jealous. You just didn’t strike me as the kind of guy that goes for cougars, but—”
He threw his head back for a moment before training his eyes on the road again. “You are jealous!”
I swallowed. This was getting out of control. I was feeling giddy. Giddy and stupid. Sure, it felt good in my stomach, but my head was telling me I wasn’t ready for this.
That I wasn’t ready for him.