“No,” I reiterate the sentiment. “We definitely don’t need that. Are you hungry? I was gonna make a snack and watch NCIS. Care to join me?”
“Sure. I grabbed something on my last break, but if you want to get me some iced tea, I’d gladly drink it. I’ll be out in a few.”
When she turns toward her bedroom, I make my way into the kitchen and make a plate of nachos for myself. I stack on a few more chips than necessary, knowing these are something Van can never refuse.
By the time I’ve got drinks and nachos ready, I hear the water shut off in the bathroom. While I wait, I scroll through my favorite social media site on my phone. When I see an ad with a cute redhead, I can’t help but wish I knew Sydney’s last name. Not that I’d be stalking her—but I am curious to learn more about her.
Thankfully, I don’t have time to dwell on this because Van appears dressed in her pajamas, brushing her long, wet hair. Typically, it’s a lot blonder than mine, but when it’s wet, it’s much darker. “So, how was Jules tonight? Did she go down easy?”
“I know how to wear her out.” I chuckle. “We went for a bike ride… well, I walked, and she rode. I think she’s about ready to ditch her training wheels. When she turns corners, one side completely lifts. Do you mind if I take them off and teach her next time we go out?”
“Really? You think she’s ready?” Vanessa asks in disbelief.
I nod, and Vanessa shakes her head. Clearly, she thinks Jules is growing up way too fast.
“Can I be there to record it?” she asks but quickly tacks on, “Please promise me you won’t let go unless she’s good and ready?”
I give her a what do you take me for look, which earns me an eye roll.
God, I love my sister.
Chuckling, I ask, pretending to sound exasperated, “Are we ready to watch this show, or what?”
“Okay, Vinny. Let’s watch the show. I’m opening in the morning.”
I don’t bother responding, as I already knew this. I settle into the couch by lying back and propping my feet up on the coffee table.
I nearly choke on a nacho when I realize Van’s got nothing on the feisty girl I’ve been thinking about all day.
“You okay, Vin?” my sister asks with concern.
“Yep. Just fine.” I manage when I get my first breath of clear air. There’s no way I’m telling Van about a girl I’ve just met. I’ll never hear the end of it.
But as I watch the show—one thing’s for certain—I won’t be forgetting about Sydney anytime soon.
I don’t run into Sydney until Thursday before class. Though is it really running into her if I purposely lurk outside, pretending to scroll through my phone while I wait for her? I haven’t been able to get her out of my freaking mind, and I want to see if I’ve built her up in my imagination—or if this weird connection we have really exists. Not that I’ll do anything about it. But I’ve had this nagging feeling that I just can’t walk away from.
When I finally spot her, I plan my approach so we reach the door at the same time from different directions. Like last time, I reach for the door to open it for her, but instead of being surprised, I’m greeted with the most beautiful smile. Her green eyes light up with delight as a chortle escapes. “So—is this gonna be a thing?” she asks, her voice laced with sarcasm.
I shrug nonchalantly. “Only if you want it to be.”
With a beautiful smirk, she shrugs. “I’m not complaining. Want to sit together again?”
“I’m game if you are,” I tease. The way her green eyes dance, I want to banter with this woman till the sun goes down. And I’m not so sure I’d want to stop—even then.
She walks into the lecture hall and takes the same seat as before. I promptly sit beside her and get comfortable. Pulling out my notebook and pen, I prepare to take notes. Sydney must have a great auditory memory, as she didn’t take a single note last time. I wish to be so lucky.
To keep her attention, I throw out the first question that comes to mind, “Do you close again tonight?”
“Yeah,” she sighs. “Since it’s two-dollar wells night, we’re usually packed ‘til closing. Thank God, I’m free until my evening shift tomorrow. I’ve got a paper to write and desperately need to catch up on laundry—after sleeping in of course. I so need a date with my pillow. It’s been a long week. What about you? Now that you’re finally legal, will you be hitting the town?”
Her teasing tone causes a smile involuntarily to stretch across my face. “Nope. My shift starts at eight, and I need my beauty rest,” I tease—though Jules hardly ever sleeps past six.
Sydney looks me over with care. I feel her gaze as it takes stock of what she sees. “We wouldn’t want you to miss out on your beauty rest. Clearly, you’ve been lacking lately.”
I know without a doubt her perusal of my body is a clear excuse for her to check me out, so I just smirk and roll with it. “Yep. I’m crabby without sleep.”
“Somehow, I doubt it. But thanks for the warning. I’ll be sure never to disturb your slumber, princess.”
I feel my lips involuntarily turn up as I shake my head. “Princess, is it? All because I enjoy my sleep?”
A belly laugh rips out of Sydney, and I quickly join in, causing stares to erupt around us. When she regains her composure, she swats at my arm. “Princess… we all enjoy sleep. But thinking you need beauty rest is absurd.”
Cocking my head to the side, I smirk. “Really? Why’s that?”
She pats my thigh complacently, and the heat from her hand lingers. “I’m sure you hardly need rest to be beautiful.” Suddenly, her freckled cheeks pinken, and she gasps. “Shit. That came out wrong…”
“You callin’ me ugly?” I tease, and her cheeks darken a hue more. Damn, she’s gorgeous. I’ll make fun of myself every day if she reacts like this.
Her hand flies to cover her mouth. “Oh, no… that’s not what I meant. Quite the opposite… honest.”
Raising an eyebrow, I stare for further clarification.
Her hand comes down on my thigh, and it takes everything in my power not to reach out and hold it there. Then she pins me with her emerald-green eyes to make sure there’s no miscommunication. “Vince. You’re a great looking guy. Let’s leave it at that and let me stop digging myself into a bigger hole.”
“Thanks,” I whisper, holding her gaze for as long as she’ll let me. I swear I feel static electricity floating in the air as if it’s about to zap me. Of course, the professor chooses this moment to start class, and Sydney’s attention is quickly averted to him.
Her hand immediately pulls back, and she takes notes furiously as he launches into a lengthy explanation of what’s on our exam next week. I diligently jot down notes of my own to distract myself from the intriguing woman next to me.
By the time class is over, my hand hurts, my head is spinning from what I’ll need to remember, and yet I’m hopeful to walk Sydney home again. After opening and closing my fist a few times, the feeling in my hand returns to normal. While packing my things, I finally break the silence between us. “Are you heading home?”
Sydney sighs as she stands and hoists her backpack over her shoulder. “Yeah. I’ve got to be on shift in a few hours. Wanna walk together?”
I’m fairly certain my grin is verging on creepy, but I could give two shits. Sydney wants to spend time with me. But before I look like a total freak, I force myself to calm the fuck down and remain casual. “Sure thing.”
Once outside, Sydney’s unusually quiet for the first few minutes. Knowing the best way to glean as much information about her as I can is to ask a question. I start with the easiest. “So, where are you from?”
She rolls her eyes as a light laugh escapes. “I’m from a small town in Eastern Washington you’ve probably never even heard of.”
“Try me,” I challenge to keep her talking.
She juts out her chin and cocks a brow in my direction as if to raise the ante, “Pomeroy.”
I pretend to think it over. But t
his causes Sydney to stop in her tracks and face me as she waits for my response. After a few moments of being captured by her beautiful green eyes, I cave and finally admit, “Nope—Not a clue. Where the hell is that?”
Her eyes bug out at my unexpected response. Then she immediately bursts out laughing at my pathetic attempt at being competitive geographically. Boy. I’m a real charmer, I’m sure.
When she captures her breath, she draws out, “Well… it’s about twenty-five miles from Pullman and about fifteen from Clarkston.”
“I know where Pullman is. But I can’t even say I’ve heard of Clarkston,” I admit. “I’ve lived on the west side my entire life and if we went to Eastern Washington, it was usually to Spokane on my way to my relative’s house in Montana.”
Sydney swats her hand in the air dismissively. “It’s okay. I don’t know the difference between any city between Olympia and Seattle, as they all seem the same to me. But being from the middle of nowhere in most people’s eyes, I’ve just gotten used to saying I live in the southeast corner about thirty miles from Idaho… and even then, their eyes gloss over. So yeah… I didn’t expect you to know where Pomeroy is.” Her teasing tone keeps a smile on my face.
“Well, we’re even…” I start slowly. Then smirk as I add, “Because I’m from one of those cities you’d know nothing about along the I-5 corridor.” As expected, I earn another eye roll. If I thought she was beautiful before, she’s fucking gorgeous, filled with sass and attitude.
Well—let’s be real. In the short time I’ve known her, I’ve clearly learned she’s gorgeous anytime—laughing, serious, and I’ve quickly found that when she throws that sass around… well, that’s the real her. I’m fairly certain. Her quick wit rolls off her tongue as natural as she breathes.
I’ve gotta stay on my toes around this one.
“Okay, then…” she trails off for a few heartbeats as she starts walking again. “Hey, Vince.” Her tone changes to hesitant, and instantly I’m on alert—But she says nothing.
“Yes, Sydney,” I prompt in the same tone, hoping she’ll just spill whatever’s on her mind.
“Are you a fan of the band Riser?”
“Who isn’t?” Why would liking a band make her look—wait—is that nervous?
“I have an extra ticket for their concert in Portland Sunday night. Would you want to join me?”
Even knowing it will make for a rough Monday, I don’t hesitate at the chance of spending more time with her. “I’d love to. Let me know how much the ticket is, and I’ll cover my cost. What time’s the concert?”
“The opening band is at seven, so it should start by eight or so. I’m so glad you can go. My roommate was supposed to go, but since her boyfriend is in town for a rare weekend before March Madness starts, she’s ditched me for him—not that I blame her.”
This piques my interest as I’m a huge fan of basketball. “I take it he plays on the team?”
“Yeah. Drew’s fantastic, and I’m so happy for him and Abby. But she claims—if she goes to his basketball game later this week, she can’t go to the concert.” Before I can say anything, Sydney quickly explains, “She’s extremely focused on med school—well, both of them are. She’s already applied but doesn’t want to ruin her chances by not getting her top grades. Besides, she’s not that big of a Riser fan. My other roommate Chloe is out of town for her great-grandmother’s ninety-fifth birthday.”
“Wow. That’s amazing. I can’t imagine being ninety-five. I can see why she can’t go to the concert with you.”
“Yeah, it really is,” Sydney agrees. “I hope I’m still living on my own at that age and able to care for myself the way her grandma does.”
By now, we’ve arrived at her apartment complex. Knowing we likely won’t see each other before the concert, and I need to pick up Julia soon, I quickly reach my hand out as I offer, “Give me your phone. I’ll put my number in it, and you can call me when you get a chance. I know you’re working tonight, so anytime between now and Sunday is fine.”
She digs her phone from her pocket and enters her passcode. Then hands it over.
I quickly enter my digits, then type a quick message to myself, and press send.
Sydney: Next time you can pick the place.
I wait for the text to go through, then hand it back.
I grin, knowing I’ll have her number as well.
She quickly thanks me.
Then she looks at the message.
Her perfectly sculpted eyebrows reach to her hairline as her eyes widen. “You’re that confident you’re getting a second date?”
I shrug with way more confidence than I should. “Well, it’s only fair. You picked the first one.”
She opens her mouth to say what I’m sure would be a great one liner but quickly snaps it shut. Then she levels me with a stare, making me hope I didn’t blow our first date before it’s even begun.
She slowly pulls in a long breath and releases it. Then she calmly states, “Okay—Vincent Daniel Larson. You’d better be worth it.”
Inside, I’m fist pumping the air because I’m sure she just agreed to a second date before completing the first. But even if she didn’t, I’ll take what I can get. I may not take the time to date much, but something tells me I’ll want more than one with her.
On the outside, I manage to keep my cool. “Ohhh—pulling out the big guns I see.” My phone buzzes in my pocket, reminding me I have less than thirty minutes to pick up Jules. Shit. I’ve got to run, or I won’t get there on time. Thankfully, she notices when I glance at my phone, so I attempt to play it off the best I can. “Unfortunately, I can’t stay and chat about your three-name usage. But don’t worry, Syd, I won’t give you any cause to pull it out Sunday. I’m looking forward to planning our next date. Call me when you can.”
With that, I turn and walk toward home a little less casual than I’d like, as I can’t be late for Jules. I have to admit, I might have a bounce in my step—simply because she said yes.
Maybe I’ll figure out her last name at some point on this date of ours, too.
5
Sydney
“He got me to agree to a second date, and we haven’t even been on a first!” I repeat for the fourth time to Chloe while we hang out Friday morning. We’ve been binge-watching episodes of The Flash, as that’s Chloe’s favorite show and once we start, I’m sucked in right along with her.
“You’ve mentioned that,” she deadpans then adds, “I thought you were on a dating diet from men?”
“I was…” I groan. “But you’re visiting family, and Abby bailed on me. And… well, okay… when we almost got back to our apartment, I didn’t want my time with Vince to end,” I admit.
“I see…” she draws out, likely waiting for me to continue.
“Don’t use your psycho-babble on me, Clo…” I warn, knowing she’ll make me admit why I asked him out in the first place.
She pushes my shoulder and pretends to be offended. “I’m not doing that. But you have to admit. There’s something about this guy that has you of all people, asking him out.”
“What? I ask people out.”
“Um… no, you don’t. You never have to. Guys fawn all over you, and you’re usually the one to turn them down.”
I balk at her description in a tsk-like noise. “They don’t fawn all over me. Sure, I get hit on at the bar when they have their beer-goggles on, but it’s not like I get that much attention when I’m out and about.”
“Girl… are you believing that line of bullshit you’re spewing? You’re gorgeous and guys do indeed notice you. I think you took this chance on Vince because he didn’t throw himself at you. From what you’ve told me, he seems decent. Just don’t let your past cloud your judgement with him.”
“I haven’t even gone on the date. Why are you saying that?”
“Oh, I don’t know – Ms. Dating Dieter.” She pauses to get my full attention. “You’ve had yourself a string of shitty dates, and I hope you give poor Vince
a chance. I, for one, am dying to meet the guy you’re willing to hop off the wagon for.”
God, I love her, but she couldn’t be more wrong. “I’m not hopping off the wagon. I’m not addicted to dating… or being celibate for that matter. I was just done with dating the wrong guys.”
“Okay – we’re getting to the good part of this show… so I’ll shut up – but you may want to ask yourself, what makes him so special?”
What does make him so special? I ask myself a million times and when the episode ends, I have no freaking clue as to how the problem in the show I’d been dying to know about was solved. Shit. I’ll have to re-watch this episode another time while Chloe’s gone because there’s no way in hell I’m admitting my concentration is shit at the moment.
As much as I want to talk with Vince, I wait until Saturday afternoon to reach out. I don’t know his schedule and I certainly didn’t want to appear too eager either.
Me: Are you busy?
Vince: I’ve got time to talk.
Great. I’m likely interrupting him. But at the same time, my belly flips knowing he’s making the time to talk to me. Knowing I want to see him sooner than I’d admit to anyone, I quickly type and hit send before I can over think it.
Me: Would you like to grab dinner before the concert?
Before a response comes through, my phone rings and annoyance sets in because now is not the time for interruptions. But when I notice it’s him, all is forgiven.
“Hi.” His rough voice comes through the receiver and the flutter in my belly from before picks up the pace. “Thought it would be easier to just call. I’ve never been a big texter, when you can pick up the phone just as easy.”
Vince: Book Two of the Perfectly Independent Series Page 4
