Chapter 5
Kathryn
As I walked away from the Purple Dragon, I wanted to bang my head against one of the brick storefronts. What on earth had I been thinking? I never should have gone back to that bar. It had been Crystal’s idea, both of us home on a Friday night, because she wanted to try the drink I’d told her about. She’d begged until I’d finally relented.
Of course, I’d only put up minimal protest to start with. Something inside me had to find out if Alexander had noticed me the night before, if he remembered me. And another part was anxious to see if I’d still feel that inexplicable attraction to him.
Unfortunately, yes on both counts, and now I regretted going, especially with the way I’d acted. I’d flirted like a single woman, practically forgotten about Christian, and hung on Alexander’s every word. I’d put myself out there as if I was unattached and eager, and I’d practically solicited the invitation to the other club. Even my attempt to blow it off had been weak, and I had honestly considered getting dolled up to go to The Machine tomorrow night.
I absolutely could not go. I might as well be labeled a cheater as it was, setting myself up to catch the eye of another man. And if Christian asked what I did tonight while he was with a friend coming into town from Chicago, having a guys’ night at home, what was I supposed to tell him? He’d see right through my explanation if I told him the truth and blamed it on Crystal. Or would he?
I sighed. I knew better than to let Alexander get to me. He was a wild card, and his energy reminded me too much of Jarrett. He scared me with the mystery and the ease of his confidence. There was nothing reassuring about him, nothing that gave me a sense of comfort. He was the wrong sort of man.
“Wow, Kathryn, why didn’t you mention that hunk of a man who poured you the drink?” Crystal asked as we crossed the street. “Who is that guy? How well do you know him?”
“I don’t,” I said shortly, clipping my words. I was overly stimulated, my brain swirling with thoughts that moved too fast. I didn’t really want to talk about Alexander. “He’s just a bartender.”
“No way! He is not ‘just’ anything, sister. That man is sex in a t-shirt and jeans. And he is way into you.”
I huffed an irritated sigh. “He’s not into me, Crystal. He’s a bartender. It’s his job to flirt with women. That’s what they do because it makes for good tips.”
“Are you blind?” she asked, sounding exasperated. “Come on, I may not be the smartest about social things, but that was impossible to miss. He flirted with you big time. And you, sister, took it and tossed it back at him like a game of catch. You liked his drink, but you also like him. Admit it.”
I didn’t like where the conversation was headed, and I had to do something to stop it in his tracks. “I’m not interested in him, Crystal. I’m happy with Christian. He’s the right man for me. He has his future planned out, and he’s predictable. He’s kind and caring and doting and secure. That is everything I could ever ask for in a man.”
“I don’t know who you’re trying to convince, Kitty-Kat, me or you. But I don’t think it’s working for either one of us.” I scowled at her, but she kept talking. “If you were happy, you wouldn’t have been all cute and fluffy every time that bartender made a pass at you. And you wouldn’t have answered him with your own flirty little thoughts. So, what are you doing about Christian?”
I paused mid step and turned to look at her, completely shocked at her question. “What do you mean, what am I doing about him? Nothing. I’m going to keep pursuing my goal. I want to marry him, Crystal. I made that perfectly clear.”
She crossed her arms and glared at me with a challenge. “Your behavior tells me otherwise.”
I glared back. “How so?”
Crystal started ticking things off on her fingers as we began walking again, only a couple blocks from our apartment. “You went back to a bar with me – and not Christian – where a super hot guy who likes you is the bartender. You flirted with him shamelessly. You didn’t turn down his invitation to another club, which I am stoked about going to, by the way. You talk about Christian like you’re a robot telling someone about all his good qualities, but you don’t show any emotion about it. And you’re getting defensive with me when all I’m doing is telling you what I see.”
There were times I wished Crystal’s slow speech and ditzy mannerisms were the real her. The truth was, she was intelligent and perceptive beneath the surface, and it meant she read me far too easily. I didn’t know how to respond because part of me knew she was right. I wasn’t exactly excited by Christian, but I was content, and that’s something I wasn’t willing to give up for the unknown. I didn’t like the idea of going down a dark tunnel, not knowing whether I would find a light to guide me out, or a dead end, especially when the latter was more than likely.
And yes, I’d flirted. I wasn’t sure what had come over me, but it felt good. It felt even better when Alexander flirted back. Christian was full of compliments, but that was different. His lines seemed rehearsed, and I could tell Alexander didn’t have a reserve of quick comebacks or practiced lines. He remarks were always fresh and caught me off guard.
But none of that mattered. “Just because I was trying to make the night a little less boring for myself doesn’t mean I’m interested in the bartender. It’s not like I asked him to come home with me. I didn’t do anything that any other girl wouldn’t do on a girls’ night out, attached or not.”
“That’s my point, Kathryn. We’re young. You’re twenty-eight years old, and you should be able to flirt without making excuses. You shouldn’t feel guilty for a little back and forth with a sexy bartender, and if dating Christian makes you feel that way, he’s not right for you.”
We had reached our apartment, and I jabbed my key in the lock, growing angry. I knew it wasn’t really Crystal’s fault – she was voicing a lot of things that had run through my own mind. But she was still poking the tiger with a stick, and I didn’t like it.
“What do you have against Christian all of a sudden?” I asked. “He’s a great guy. He trusts me, and I trust him. He gives me time to hang out with you and doesn’t question what I do. He caters to me and doesn’t force me to do a bunch of things I don’t want to do. He’s loyal and gentle. I thought you were all about me being with him.”
She hesitated as she kicked off her heels and plopped on the couch, rubbing her size five feet. “It’s not that I don’t like him. I want you to be happy, Kathryn. I know you’re a little more reserved than me, but you aren’t a stick in the mud. I think Christian is, and you’re too young to be held back like that.” She crossed her legs and leaned forward. “I saw a part of you tonight I haven’t seen before. You were really happy and having fun.”
“You haven’t seen me on a date with Christian, either. How do you know I’m not like that when I’m with him?”
“Because it would still be there when you came home,” she said pointing at me. Her smile grew, and she told me, “You have passion in you, and you’re too young to settle down with Mr. Safe. I don’t think you’ve spent enough time exploring your options.”
I started to protest and remind her of the devastating results of my last exploration, not wanting to hear her twisted – and amusing – philosophies. But she didn’t give me a chance.
“Alexander is absolute eye candy,” she said, “and even if it’s just a fling, I think you should go for it because his eyes were all for you tonight. I’d bet my daddy’s farm he did the same thing last night, even with Christian there.”
I didn’t answer. I felt like Alexander had been flirtatious, but it had been muted with Christian right next to me, so much that I couldn’t be sure. But Crystal took my silence as confirmation of her point. “So, what’re you going to do about Christian?”
I clenched my jaw as I took my own shoes off and lined them up neatly by the door. “I’m going to keep seeing him. And I’m not going to The Machine tomorrow night.”
“I think you’re nuts,” Crystal said with a shake of her head. “Mysterious men are sexy on principle, and you shouldn’t ignore one who wants you as bad as Alexander wanted you.”
I sat down on the couch, knowing she was ready to turn on Friends or some other show to marathon.
Suddenly, she said, “Fine. If you don’t want him, I’ll go after him. I’m always up for a little mystery and good times.”
Tired of the subject, I stood back up. “Do what you want, just stop talking about it.”
I stalked off to bed, closing my door hard but not quite slamming it.
I couldn’t think about it anymore. My decision was final, and I knew it was a good one. It was right for me. Crystal and I disagreed because she was still in a less mature state of mind, one that pushed her to party and take advantage of the attention she got from men. I was ready to settle down in a mature, permanent relationship.
I went to my small walk-in closet and hung up the dress I was wearing and then pulled a set of forest green satin pajamas – long pants and a sleeveless top – from my dark oak dresser. All of my furniture came from thrift stores. I didn’t need anything special; I needed functional. I’d learned to live with very little growing up. My mother taught elementary school, and my father was a salesman at an appliance store in a poor Louisiana parish. But we always managed to have what we needed without too much struggle.
I liked living the same way, and it was part of the reason I could look around my sparsely furnished room and be content. I had a full-sized bed, my dresser, a nightstand I’d found and refinished with a weathered look in the same color as the dresser, a bookshelf I’d sanded and sprayed with black lacquer, and a small chest that I hadn’t updated at all. The only things that had really cost a little more were the two lamps I’d gotten on discount at Target, my bedding – thick and fluffy and a rich chocolate brown – I’d ordered online at 75% off, and the paint on the walls, a light creamy egg color.
I’d turned the boring room into a haven for myself, and now, as I perused my bookshelf – filled with books given away by libraries or sold for quarters to make room on shelves at the bookstore – I breathed in the incense on my dresser that I hadn’t even lit yet and felt myself relax. Sometimes, I just needed to be alone, and I felt the smile being to cross my lips as I picked a worn paperback I’d been eyeing for a while.
But first I had to do something. I eased open my bedroom door and padded down the hall to the living room. Crystal’s eyes were on the television, and she was consciously ignoring me.
“I’m sorry for snapping at you,” I said.
She held out her hand. “I shouldn’t have pushed. You’ve got a lot on your mind. Just let me know if you want to talk.”
I took her hand and squeezed it. “Thanks.”
With that, I went back to my room and grabbed my book again. I tucked myself under the sheets and comforter, sank into the giant pillows behind me, and turned off one lamp, leaving me with just enough light to read by.
The yellow glow cast me – and my book – in a bit of a soft, golden spotlight, and the heat of it felt nice, a dry heat that warmed me without the thick humidity of the air outside. I was used to it; the atmosphere in Louisiana was even thicker than this, especially around the bayous, and Houston’s weather had never really bothered me.
After all the ups and downs of the evening, I felt more confident in my decision. I didn’t like anyone putting doubt in my mind, whether it was a concerned friend whose perspective just didn’t work for my particular situation, or a mysteriously seductive man. It just reinforced that I needed someone like Christian in my life to keep me in line.