“Are you ready to start the night with some chicken wings?” I ask. We’ve been walking through the stalls for over half an hour, and I’m more than ready to eat.

“Seriously? You know how hard it is to look ladylike and eat those?”

“I didn’t think that was something you cared about.”

“It’s not, but you might after you see me eating,” she warns.

I chuckle. “I think I’ll be able to get past it.” We stand in line, starting off our culinary experience with what’s been tagged the best wings in Brooklyn. I’m a sucker for food, there’s nothing like trying different cuisines. And here, the options are endless. I convinced Court that we had to try one of everything. If we didn’t, there was no point in coming. The best thing is trying something you’ve never eaten before, there’s something about eating at food carts that almost makes it feel like you’re visiting another country. Traveling is something I’ve always wanted to do, but never found the time to do so.

“Have you ever been overseas?” I ask out of curiosity.

“Nope,” she answers quickly. “The furthest I ever got was Florida.”

“What did you do in Florida?”

“I went to design school there,” she says flippantly.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it was a few years ago.” She narrows her eyes at me. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I never picked you for a beach girl, and design school is impressive. I wouldn’t know anything about fashion, colors or anything remotely artistic.”

“I guess you just assumed retail was my end goal,” she says snarkily.

I stop walking, waiting till she notices I’m no longer by her side. Soon enough I watch her look to the side and then turn her body halfway searching for me. People are walking all around us, and there’s no doubt they’re annoyed by my sudden lack of movement. She storms toward me, irritation in every step.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m just trying to work out what’s going on in your head.” I know she’s been teetering on the edge since I knocked on her door earlier. If I had any idea being a gentleman and wanting to be courteous would piss a woman off, I wouldn’t have bothered. “I’m not an idiot Court. I’m trying to be mindful of how irritated you were when you saw me at your front door, I’m not pushing you to tell me why. But I’m not going to sit back and let you put words in my mouth and assume you know my thoughts when you don’t.” The look on her face is a disheartening shade of anger and disappointment. I don’t know what is directed where or to who, but the chances of our night ending well seem very slim from where I’m standing. The silence is drawn out between us, while the noise around us becomes inconsequential. I didn’t want to push her tonight, I wanted to give her space, respect her need for privacy and wait for her to come to me. But if she doesn’t meet me in the middle, I don’t know how long whatever we’re doing will last, before the same argument comes up.

“I want to go home,” she murmurs.

“Fine with me.” I clench my fists and grind my teeth together. I’m beyond pissed, and the truth is, with the smallest amount of words Court lets me know her fear of the truth outweighs her want to give us a go. “After you,” I say, signaling for her to walk ahead of me. She grabs her cell out of her bag and starts tapping at the screen.

“I’d rather call an Uber.”

“No.” With her hands on her waist, she cocks her hip to one side, “Elliot, don’t make this difficult.”

“I’m not being difficult, but you know very well I’m not going to let you catch a ride when I’m right here. I promise you don’t even have to talk to me.” She stares at me, and I know she’s determined to push my buttons. This is Courtney after all, and sassy is her middle name. It takes everything in me to not throw her over my shoulder and toss her in the car. Instead, I wait it out, knowing she’ll eventually let me take her home.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

“Ok, can we hurry up and go,” she huffs.

I wave my arm in the direction of the car, signaling her to walk ahead. “Your chariot awaits, my lady.” I can’t help but push her buttons right back.

The ride is silent, and the twenty-minute drive feels about two hours long. When we pull up to her house, I notice the return of her anxiety, and the animosity between us disappears.

“What is it?” I ask, interrupting the quiet.

She turns her head from the house to me, then back to the house. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I try a less invasive approach and hide my irritation as best as I can. “Whatever it is you can tell me,” I say reassuringly.

“Just drop it, I don’t need your good guy act right now.”

“Actually,” I say forcefully. “I don’t feel like being your punching bag right now.” Her eyes widen at my honesty, and I know I should rein it in, but I don’t need this. I want so much with this woman, but I don’t want to have her look at me this way every time it gets too tough.

“I really have no idea where you’re going with all this, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Let’s just drop it before we both say something we might regret, okay?”

She opens the door and steps out of the car. With not even a second glance she slams it shut and makes her way inside. I tilt my head back and close my eyes in defeat. This is not how I expected the night to end.

* * *

My phone vibrates on the nightstand waking me from what has been a hopeless attempt at sleep since I laid my head down. Reaching for it, I’m shocked when Courtney’s name appears on the screen.

Courtney: Open Up

Another message comes through as I read the first one.

Courtney: Please

The anticipation that usually floods me when I see Courtney is missing. I’m apprehensive, nervous and still don’t know if I’ve cooled down enough to talk to her. But, I can’t leave her outside either.

I don’t bother worrying about what I’m wearing, shirtless and lounge pants is going to have to work. Opening the door, it surprises me she’s still in the same clothes as this evening. However, the confidence she wore at the beginning of the night is gone; replaced with tired eyes and a cautious smile.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” she whispers back.

“Would you like to come inside?

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

I step to the side and let her walk past me. The smell of her perfume lingers in my nose, as she makes her way to the middle of the living room.

Standing opposite one another, I wait for her to speak first. I don’t have much to say, let alone know what the right words would be.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts out unexpectedly.

I want to absolve her of her guilt immediately, but I don’t. As petulant as it may sound, I want her to know I’m upset with how it all went down tonight. I don’t want to have to do this every time the going gets good.

“Do you want to sit down? I’ve got green tea,” I offer, knowing how much she loves to drink it at night.

“That would be great,” she says, sighing in relief.

I head to the kitchen and pull out a kettle from the cupboard that I barely use. I give it a quick rinse and then fill it up with tap water. Placing it on the base, I flick the switch, waiting for it to boil. Double checking that I’ve made it correctly, I deem it good enough to drink.

Placing it on the coffee table, I take a on the opposite armrest of the couch, as far from Courtney as possible.

She grabs the cup of tea giving her hands something to do. Flicking her eyes between the drink and me, she nervously repeats her apology. “I’m so sorry about tonight, Elliot.”

“Me too,” I say, knowing we’re both apologizing for two different things.

“Okay.” Her leg begins to bounce. I know whatever is coming next isn't easy. “I’m just going to dive right in and say what I need to say.” She forces herself to look at me, and my chest tightens at how hard this is for her. “I want to let you in, Elliot. I really do, but I'm terrified.” Her voice trails off at the end, and she lowers her head, hiding her face from me. I keep my distance, even if I do want to scoop her in my arms and comfort her.

“Court. Look at me.” And she does. Her eyes brimming with tears. “It's not my intention to make whatever you’re going through harder. I just want you to know I care.”

“I know you do,” she says with a nod. “I'm the one being cryptic and making things difficult. Tonight was uncalled for.”

“Unintentionally or not, knocking on your house door was the catalyst. I'm not going to apologize for being polite, but I will probably never surprise you again,” I add, hoping to get a few laughs and ease through the tension.

She gnaws at her bottom lip before beginning to speak. “I finished high school and wanted to leave Brooklyn as fast as I could. I didn’t care where it was, I just wanted something different. There was no sob story of trying to escape, or that I grew up with terrible parents, it was just a girl wanting to spread her wings and I thought starting out small would get me ready for bigger adventures, and getting used to being away from home,” she explains. “I applied to a bunch of schools, put my acceptances in a hat and whichever name I pulled out was where I was going.”

“So, Florida won.”

“Yep. I went and I loved it. I loved what I was learning, I loved everybody I met. It was exactly how I imagined my life away from home to be.” She sinks into the couch, her posture less defensive and slightly relaxed. “And, into my last year, I had to come home.”

I wait for her to elaborate but it doesn’t come. If I know Court well enough, she’s not going to drop the whole story in one hit. I can try and coax her, but I know it will be no time before she retreats. “I guess for whatever reason you ended up coming home, it was serious enough for you to quit?” She nods, and I almost want to pat myself on the back for predicting her next move. “Do you miss it?” I choose to direct the conversation to something else. I don’t want her to close up again, and there’s nothing Courtney could tell me that would be irrelevant.

“For a while I didn’t even give it a second thought, but the last couple of months I was getting fidgety and needed something else to consume my time,” she explains.

“Did you find something?”

“I actually enrolled in an online design course.” Her face lights up at the mere mention of it, and it’s a relief to see her mood change; anything different to how tense it was earlier.

“How’s it been?”

“I don’t know if I’ve just been out of the game too long, but I’m really enjoying it. It’s time-consuming and challenging, but it feels good to be using my brain.” The shift in conversation suits me fine, seeing her excited about something and giving me a glimpse into her world is really all I’ve been asking of her.

“I’m sorry I came over so late,” she says, changing the subject suddenly. I stand up and move closer to her, I sit on the coffee table, so we’re directly face to face with one another.

“I didn’t think there were any time restrictions on when you could come over,” I say, hinting at all our late night escapades.

“Yeah, but usually I’m not a raving bitch on a rampage.”

I can’t help but smile at the way she describes herself. “I wouldn’t have used those words, exactly?”

“No. Are you sure? How about something along the lines of Crazy? Deranged? Moody?”

I lean in and take hold of her cheeks. “I know it’s not like that, Court. We were both mad, and I know there’s obviously more to it. But if you just walk me through what’s going on in your head, I think we’ll be ok.”

Her green eyes look as deep as a rainforest, layers and layers to sift through. “Are you this understanding all the time?” she asks.

“For you, I’ll try anything.”