Chapter Eleven
ALEX
*
By the time that the main course was ending, I'd forgotten that I wasn't supposed to be enjoying myself quite so much. I'd forgotten almost completely about digging for information, probing Paxton's history for why my powers didn't work on her.
Instead, I was actually having fun!
Paxton was... well, she was different from most of the women that I took out on dates, I decided. Different from all of them, in fact. I did go out on dates, plenty of them – anonymous, spontaneous sex was great, but it was even more fun when I'd gotten to take the girl out, get to know her a bit, and show her off to the rest of the world.
But with Paxton, I wasn't half distracted, looking ahead to sex. I was fully invested in the conversation, listening to her stories – which were quite entertaining, despite how she kept on brushing them off as dull and boring – and trying to match them with my own. I'd gotten into quite a few silly and embarrassing situations over the years, powers or not, and they turned out to make great little stories for sharing. Whenever I managed to say something especially funny, she'd toss her head back as she laughed, giving me a glimpse of creamy throat, exposed skin leading down tantalizingly into the open neck of that polka-dot blouse.
She had a good laugh, I thought to myself, as she snorted, her napkin flying up to her mouth. "Tell me that you didn't make any noise," she got out, her voice choked with laughter. "Tell me that you just kept quiet and stayed in the closet!"
"I couldn't!" I answered, laughing along with her at the ridiculousness of my story. "There was so much dust in the air from the toilet exploding that I had to sneeze!"
"And he heard you?"
"Oh yeah." I put down my fork and gripped the edge of the table with both hands, leaning forward and forcing my features into a thunderously angry expression. "He bellows, 'Who the hell is in my ex-wife's closet?', and I say the only thing I can think."
Paxton leaned forward, her eyes wide and intent. "And what did you say?"
"Plumber!" I answered, and we both dissolved into helpless giggles.
"Oh my god," Paxton finally managed, wiping the little tears of laughter at the corners of her eyes away with her napkin. "You're crazy, you know that? Bona fide insane."
Our waiter popped up before I could respond, glancing down at Paxton's plate. "Madam? Can I clear your plate?"
I expected her to let the waiter take it – but Paxton immediately hunched forward, holding out one hand over the remaining half of her lasagna. "No way!" she exclaimed. "This is the best lasagna I've ever eaten, and I'm not letting it get away!"
I laughed as she scooped up a heaping forkful and slipped it into her mouth. None of the girls that I took out on dates ever seemed to enjoy their food that much, I considered as I watched her. They ordered, but they rarely did more than pick at the meal, as if afraid that every single bite would shoot instantly to their waistlines.
Of course, Paxton was a fair bit heavier than the typical supermodel I took out on a date – but she still looked great, almost distractingly sexy. I kept having to remind myself that this wasn't about getting laid. She looked like she'd be great in bed, however – and if her enthusiasm for eating was any indication of her level of commitment to other activities, she'd be wildly fun in a bed... or a tub, or a hot tub, or even in the backseat of my car...
I forced myself to snap back to the present as Paxton looked at me. I realized belatedly that she'd asked me a question. "Sorry, what? I got distracted for a moment."
"Get your mind out of the gutter, Sir Asshole," she said, although the name carried only gentle mockery. "I'm not putting out on the first date."
"What? I – that's not what I was thinking about!" I sputtered, even as I felt my cheeks flushing and giving me away.
She just laughed. "Oh, you're too easy. Besides, most of your stories tonight have been about sex, or linked to it, with other women. If I was really offended by it, I would have already thrown my glass of wine into your face and walked out on you by now."
"Well, I'm glad that you haven't." I finished off the last of the wine in my glass, setting it back down. "This stuff is way too expensive to be wasted on a shirt."
Oops. That brought her back to the fact that I was spending all this money to take her out, and her smile faded. "So," she said, affecting an air of fake casualness. "Are you going to tell me why you're bothering to drop all this money on me?"
"We haven't ordered dessert yet," I tried to throw her off, but she wasn't going to be distracted so easily.
"We can eat it as you explain just what you're after," she countered. "So come on, Alex, tell me the truth. Was it a dare or something – take out the fat girl, see how far you can get? Or is there something else going on here?"
"The fat girl?" I echoed in surprise, totally confused now. "Paxton, I never called you fat!"
The smile was totally gone from her face now. "Yeah, no one does. You don't need to say it out loud, though. I see the way you look at me for finishing my food."
What? Was she crazy? "That's not it at all," I insisted. "I think it's great that you ate all your food! Most of the girls I take out, they just sort of pick at it and barely eat anything. It just feels like a waste." How could I make it clear to her that I found it strangely sexy to watch her eat, to see how much she savored the taste of each forkful, how she really enjoyed it instead of just seeing it as a formality to get through before going to puke in the restroom?
"Yeah, whatever." She turned away, and I realized with a shock that she was blinking back tears. Crap. I needed to do something.
"I have superpowers."
What the fuck? Where did that come from? Paxton looked up, although I still saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes. "What?" she asked, echoing my own internal thoughts.
Totally uncontrolled by my brain, my mouth opened up again, spilling out secrets that I desperately wanted to keep to myself. "Remember earlier, when I asked you what superpower you'd choose to have, if you could have one? And I said that I'd take the ability to write what would happen next? Well, that's what I can actually do."
Finally, by lifting up my hand and covering my mouth, I managed to silence the flow of words. I looked across at Paxton – and saw her blinking, frowning as she tried to figure out what this new set of lies was intended to accomplish.
"You're sounding pretty crazy right now, Alex," she said, although she didn't get up and try to run away.
"I'm not crazy." I looked around the restaurant. "Okay, how about this. What dessert sounds best to you?"
She gave me another skeptical look, but shifted her gaze over to the half-page dessert menu. "The cheesecake sounds pretty tasty."
I quickly wrote the words inside my head, this time speaking them aloud as I did so. "The waiter was so enchanted with the couple on their first date that he decided to bring them a slice of cheesecake, on the house."
"First date?" Paxton echoed, but she looked up as the waiter reappeared a second later at our table.
"For being such good customers, and clearly having so much fun together," he smiled, as he set down a slice of cheesecake in the middle of the table, along with two forks. "On the house."
Paxton blinked down at it, and then looked back at me. "This is some sort of trick," she said. "You're trying to fool me. I don't know why, but there's got to be some sort of reason."
"I'm not." I spread my hands out. "Go on, think of something else. Anything else that could possibly happen. Just tell me."
She bit her lower lip, and even amid my shock at telling this near-stranger about my deepest secret, my power, I couldn't help but notice how the expression made her look adorably focused. "Anything?"
I nodded. "Anything at all."
"Okay then, Sir Asshole. Try this one." She paused for a second, assembling her thoughts. "When I was a little girl, I had a stuffed octopus."
"An octopus? Really?"
"Shut up." Strangely, the tears were back in her eyes. "His name was Binky. He was a gift from... from my parents. Before they passed away."
Oh shit. I hadn't asked why she lived with her uncle, but I suddenly guessed that there was a darker secret than I'd suspected. "Paxton, you don't have to-"
"Shut up." Yes, the tears were there, now flowing down her cheeks. "When I was nine, I lost that octopus. I don't know where, and I cried for a month afterward. It was my favorite possession, and I lost it."
I really didn't want to open up this can of worms. "Paxton, maybe we should get out of here," I said softly. "Step outside, get some fresh air."
She didn't move. Despite the shimmer of tears, her eyes bored into me. "I'm going to walk out of here, and never talk to you again, and if I see you ever again in my life, I'm going to scream and kick you in the balls as hard as possible, over and over..."
I tried to think of any other way out of here, but I came up empty. I couldn't tell Paxton to drop it, since my powers didn't work on her. Why had I thought that this was a good idea? What was wrong with me? I could get us out of here, turn on the fire alarm or something like that, but I somehow guessed that this wouldn't be enough to distract her.
It only took one sentence. I felt a soft, plush weight settle into my hands beneath the table. I looked back at Paxton, gazed into her warm brown eyes, didn't blink or look away.
The waiter had already cleared my plate, leaving a blank spot on the table in front of me. I set the stuffed little plush octopus on the table in front of me. It looked a bit ragged, with some of the fuzz worn away from its head. Almost like it had been hugged for many years by a little girl.
Her eyes dropped down to it, and I heard her breath stop. She reached out with one hand, fingers trembling so badly that I thought she might fumble the stuffed animal and drop it into the cheesecake. She didn't, however, and lifted it up to turn it over in front of her face.
For an instant, she looked back at me – and then she was up from her seat, moving faster than I could believe possible, sprinting out of the restaurant.
"Shit." I dropped a couple hundred-dollar bills on the table – and then added a third, just to thank the waiter for his time. I dashed out after her.
I found her in the parking lot, just a dozen steps or so from the entrance, bent over with the little stuffed octopus locked in a two-armed hug. Her whole body shook with sobs, and I placed one hand gently on her back. She jerked abruptly for a second, but then leaned in against me, accepting my offer of support.
I held her, wordlessly, for several minutes. Finally, her tears and sobbing ceased, and she straightened up. I loosened my hold on her, taking a step back and resisting the urge to cover my nuts against any incoming attacks.
"Okay," she whispered, almost too softly for me to hear. "I believe you."
Just like that.
And then, delayed, it sank in what I'd just done.
With anyone else, I could always make them forget. Even Tommy – if he ever tried to go public with my secret, I could just tell him to forget about me ever revealing my powers to him, and he would do it. I'd always been in control, had it all in check.
Until now. Until Paxton. Now, she knew my secret, and I could never take it back.
Well, tonight certainly hadn't gone how I had expected.