A Guy Like Him

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A Guy Like Him Page 11

by Amanda Gambill


  He laughed, glancing at me. “I don’t have a plan, Skye. I’m not like you.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I’m aware,” I said with a laugh.

  He looked back down at the page he was on. “You wrote ‘was eating lollipop when he walked in’ in this con column.”

  “Well, that implies he’s childish,” I said with a laugh, moving to sit on the floor in front of the heater. “Plus, who eats a lollipop and then drinks coffee? That’s kind of gross.”

  He laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, wow, so having access to a lake house is a pro,” he said, flipping to the next page. “Apparently so is being a business major of some sort. You really like math, huh?”

  “I like guys who will have employment when they graduate.”

  Dean laughed again. “Wow, I’m so glad I’m not in this notebook. It would be straight cons. I might have been your first two-pager,” he said, grinning at me.

  I laughed, reaching out to him. “Speaking of two times…”

  He tossed the notebook aside and laid on top of me on the floor.

  “I want to finish these envelopes after,” he said between kisses. “I have other stuff to do next week, so you’ll have to stick around.”

  I looked at my watch as he moved lower, unbuttoning my jeans. Friday night was date night, which meant Krista was with Kyle. They had gone to the movies and to look at Christmas lights, so she probably wouldn’t be home until after 11.

  “Yeah, I can stay a while longer,” I said, closing my eyes and biting my lip, unable to focus on the time anymore.

  After, as I laid on the floor on pillows and blankets, feeling so comfortable, I looked at my watch and gasped. “Oh, shit, it’s almost midnight. I have to go. How do I always lose track of time in this place?” I groaned, hastily grabbing my clothes from the floor.

  Dean grinned at me from where he sat at the coffee table, already redressed. “Why is that a bad thing again?”

  “No one knows I’m here,” I said with a huff, pulling on my sweater in a rush. “My sister thinks I’m at the library planning some stupid SGA event.”

  He laughed, stacking all the envelopes, completely unfazed by my hurried presence.

  “Why would she believe that? Who does SGA stuff on a Friday night in the library after finals? That’s insane.”

  “I do, okay? I’m that girl,” I said with another groan.

  He looked at me with a curious expression. “Come here,” he said, reaching out his hand to me.

  I looked around the room, trying to find my boots. “What? No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m in a hurry.”

  “I know, but just take one second,” he said, stepping forward, taking my hand, and gently pulling me toward him.

  “What are you doing?” I said, wondering where my phone was, as he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close against him. I stood there, tense, not sure what was happening, wondering how long this was going to take.

  “Skye,” he said, his voice close to my ear, his breath on my skin, his body steady and warm against mine. “Just breathe and relax. Slow down and take some time for yourself.”

  I closed my eyes, exhaling. “This is stupid. What are you doing?”

  “This is called a hug,” he teased, lightly kissing my neck.

  “Oh,” I said, taking another breath, draping my arms around his shoulders, allowing my body to settle against his. I pressed my face against his chest as he ran his hand up and down my back, sending a wave of relaxation through my body. “Why are we doing this?”

  “I don’t know, I just wanted to. Don’t overthink it,” he said quietly, twisting his fingers in my hair, cupping the nape of my neck, pulling back just slightly to kiss me.

  It had been exactly 11 days since the last time he’d kissed me like this, soft and slow, a kiss that made me feel everything and forget everything at once, somehow so unlike all our other electric kisses. But this time, I wasn’t able to pull myself away. I deepened the kiss, pressing against him more, no longer in control, my body desperately wanting to get closer.

  He stopped suddenly, breaking away and stepping back.

  “You said you needed to go,” he said, grabbing the envelopes, not looking at me. “I don’t want to keep you. And I finished these. So they’re done. I think I have a box or something for them.”

  He stepped away, turning to walk to his closet. I blinked, pressing my fingers against my lips, feeling like I’d been turned upside down.

  “Uh, thanks. I can pay you,” I said awkwardly as I put on my boots, and he methodically stacked the envelopes in a small box

  He shook his head. “No, it’s fine. It was easy. Like you said, something to do between sex sessions, right?” he said with a light laugh, handing me the box and stepping back to walk me to the door.

  As I walked out, already on the first step down, he called after me. “Hey, what were those for?”

  I paused, glancing over my shoulder, realizing I’d never told him about Krista or her engagement. He was the only person in my world that knew me without knowing my sister, and she had no idea he existed either. I wanted to keep things that way, and with a kiss like that, I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d be able to.

  I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter, does it? Rule 1, Dean.”

  He leaned against the doorway — looking at me how he’d looked at the sky more than a month ago, that focused expression that saw more than I’d realized — and nodded.

  “Right, Rule 1,” he repeated. “It doesn’t matter.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  For some, winter break is similar to a vacation, a much-needed reprieve from to-do lists and obligations.

  Not for my family.

  They loved Christmas, filling every spare moment with festivities. Weekends and evenings were spent finding a Christmas tree, Dad and Krista debating what made the perfect tree, all of us decorating it in only silver and gold ornaments, Mom balking at the idea that we would use any other sort of color or multi-colored lights. We would make lists and actually check them twice for gifts for everyone in our family, meticulously wrapping every single one with crisp parchment paper and gold ribbon, and listen to carols while we drove around looking at Christmas lights. And almost every night ended with us gathering around the couch to watch a classic movie as Dad served us cookies and mulled wine.

  Krista loved the season more than any of us, obsessed with the thrill of creating a more perfect Christmas every year while also sticking firmly to our traditions at the same time. This year, she was even more caught up with the idea of a perfect holiday, saying this was the only year she’d be engaged during Christmas and wasn’t that so romantic.

  She also couldn’t wait for the new year, saying we were really going to hit the ground running as soon as January 1 began because we would officially be in The Year of Her Wedding.

  But for now, we were standing in a long line at the Post Office, no romance or excitement in sight, our final errand before we went to her engagement party.

  “These look so good,” she said, holding up a save the date.

  They’d been my saving grace when I’d come home so late after Dean’s. Krista and Kyle had been watching a Christmas movie on the couch when I’d walked in. She’d instantly looked at the clock, raising her eyebrows. She had planned the same SGA event years ago, so she knew it wouldn’t have taken me that long. So I’d held up the box of finished envelopes, shouting surprise, completely distracting her from asking questions.

  Because of Christmas and her wedding, I’d also been lucky enough to avoid a full “who is Brad” conversation, able to brush it off as Lindy just being dramatic.

  I glanced at the envelope Krista was holding, recognizing it instantly as Dean’s handiwork.

  “Yeah, they look great.”

  “I can’t believe you picked up a skill like this so fast,” she said. “Maybe I’ll use you instead of a calligrapher for my invitations.”

  I shook my head, shuffling forward in the slow-movin
g line. “We’ll see about that.”

  I hadn’t seen Dean in almost two weeks, our worlds unable to match up. The coffee shop closed early during winter break, so he now solely worked during the day when Krista was gone and I was available. When he was free during evenings and nights, I had family, volunteer, and wedding obligations.

  “You aren’t supposed to look prettier than the bride,” Krista said with a playful smile as I walked into her room after we’d escaped the Post Office and had changed for her engagement party.

  I smoothed my hands over my dark green velvet bodycon dress and adjusted the gold belt around my waist. I knew photos would be taken tonight, and I was determined to look better than the blonde blur in a faded sweatshirt I’d been when she’d gotten engaged.

  “Shut up, you know you look gorgeous,” I said as she placed a hand on her hip, smiling at herself in the mirror. She was classically stunning in a long-sleeved A-line white lace dress, her hair in perfect curls, her ring sparklier than ever.

  “What time is it?” she asked as she inspected her makeup.

  I looked at my wrist, forgetting I’d taken off my watch. The battery had died, and it was on my to-do list to fix it tomorrow while I went shopping for a few last items for Krista.

  Before I could answer, she glanced at her own watch.

  “We should go unless we want to be late. I can’t be late to my own party,” she said, linking her arm with mine as we walked to Kyle’s waiting car, always on time.

  Our aunt Nancy had agreed to host the party at her house, and I’d come over earlier today to set up, knowing exactly how Krista would want everything. As I stood near the champagne bar in the kitchen, I finally felt like I was allowed to relax, one major wedding to-do done. I couldn’t wait to move the sticky note to the fourth, final panel tomorrow. That alone was worth celebrating.

  “Honey, your sister is so happy,” Mom said, appearing as I sipped my champagne. “She looks just exquisite.”

  “I can’t wait to do this again soon,” Nancy said, patting my arm.

  I raised my eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, it won’t be long until you’re next, right, hon? Are you seeing anyone special?”

  I looked at the two pairs of eyes on me and sipped my champagne again, not sure what to do with my hands.

  “Excuse me, I need to do something … engagement party related,” I said quickly, unable to think of anything better, instinctively glancing at where my watch should have been as I ducked out of the kitchen.

  As I sipped my way down my champagne flute and worked through the crowd, playing the role of good sister, I was asked that same question 12 more times. I made my way back to the champagne bar, refilled my empty glass, and took a deep breath, glancing at the oven clock. Thirty more minutes, and this party would be over.

  I closed my eyes, counting down the 1,800 seconds.

  “This party is great, sweetie.”

  I opened my eyes and smiled at my dad. “You really think so?”

  Instead of answering, he smiled at Krista across the room. She’d been a butterfly the whole night, the total center of attention, as Kyle stood dutifully by her side, his hand on the small of her back.

  “I’m so proud of her,” he said, a sentence I’d heard time and time again, it never stinging less. “She got a good one.”

  I nodded, keeping my gaze on the cranberries in my flute.

  “When she first told me Kyle was in school to be a financial analyst, I was concerned. You know how those finance majors can be. But when I met him, he asked me if I’d caught the score to the game the night before, and I knew everything was going to be perfect.”

  I focused on the bubbles in my glass as ‘Jingle Bells’ started playing through the speakers in Nancy’s house. As I heard the first notes, I looked up, my accidental instant smile confusing him.

  “Krista has told me how hard you’ve been working this semester. All those late nights at the library. She also said that you aced your final presentation in economics. Did you two practice?”

  I kind of nodded, sipping my champagne, knowing if I just kept moving, I wouldn’t really have to answer him. Thankfully, someone from his work interrupted us, and he left, wanting to properly introduce them to Krista.

  I leaned against the counter, finally alone, and unlocked my phone I’d been gripping the entire night. Don’t overthink it, I repeated in my head as I typed: What are you up to tonight?

  Please tell me this question means you’re free.

  I bit my lip to stop the smile that appeared on my face.

  “Ooh, look at that face,” Lindy’s voice rang out.

  I looked up, quickly locking my phone and straightening up. “Hey, what’s up?” I said, picking up my drink and crossing my arms.

  “Is whatever is on that phone why you’re hiding out in the kitchen?” she asked, raising her eyebrows as she poured a glass.

  “I’m not hiding out,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “When will you admit that you’re clearly dating this Brad guy? More importantly, when do we get to meet him?” she asked, gesturing to herself and Brandon. “We’d love another couple for game night.”

  I laughed at the idea before I could stop myself. Lindy looked at me, confused. “Sorry,” I said, shaking my head.

  I opened my mouth, wanting to tell her half of the truth — that there was no Brad — but she kept talking, not paying attention to me, already changing the subject to next semester’s SGA initiatives. I halfway listened, gripping my phone even harder, taking a sip of champagne every time she asked a question I didn’t have a good enough answer for.

  Finally, Brandon nudged her, wanting to leave, and I glanced at the oven clock. The party was finally over. Everyone had trickled out, leaving just Mom, Dad, Nancy, Krista, and Kyle. We hugged our parents goodbye and sent off Lindy and Brandon with a promise to hang out after Christmas.

  “This was amazing, baby sis,” she said, hugging me. “You’re the best maid of honor ever. I really appreciate it. I promise I’ll do the same for you when it’s your turn.”

  “You ready, babe?” Kyle asked, walking into the living room with a Tupperware I was sure Nancy had packaged up for them.

  Krista glanced at me and lowered her voice. “I think I’m going to stay over at Kyle’s, if you don’t care? His roommate is out of town, and we wanted to go to a brunch place tomorrow that’s on that side of town. It just makes sense, you know,” she said, always rationalizing situations like this.

  “Yeah, totally, I’m going to stick around and help Nancy clean up. I’ll just get her to drop me off at our apartment,” I said with a smile.

  “Are you sure?” Krista asked, already stepping to Kyle who had fetched her coat.

  “Yeah, don’t worry about it,” I said easily, giving her one last hug and waving goodbye at the door. I waited four seconds, leaning against the closed door, before I unlocked my phone.

  Can you pick me up in 20 minutes?

  Yeah … just don’t actually time me, Skye.

  I helped Nancy tidy up as she gushed over how beautiful Krista looked tonight and then I said goodbye, telling her that a girlfriend of mine was picking me up so we could look at the Christmas light display in the botanical gardens and probably drink hot chocolate.

  As the cold nighttime air hit my face, I realized the two glasses of champagne I’d had might have made me buzzier than I’d realized when I’d been so focused on being perfect in front of so many people. I thought back on what I’d eaten, remembering just one chocolate cookie, having stuffed it in my mouth when someone asked if I was still single.

  “Hey,” Dean said as I slid in the passenger seat. He glanced at Nancy’s classic suburban house where Christmas lights twinkled and candy canes lined the sidewalk. He didn’t ask whose house it was, instead, he looked right at me and said, “You look beautiful.”

  I blushed, wishing I could have blamed the champagne. So, I leaned over and kissed him, blaming the champagne f
or that.

  “Can we go to your place?” I asked, looking him up and down, curious what his outfit was going to be this time. He was wearing a long black and white leopard print jacket, a green and white plaid button-up, never buttoned all the way, as usual, fitted black torn jeans, several beaded necklaces, all gold jewelry. It might have been one of his strangest outfits so far, but he’d never looked so good.

  “Yeah, of course,” he said, pulling away from the house. Once we made it out of the neighborhood, he kind of laughed. “It’s weird you being in my car when it’s moving.”

  I laughed. “I know, this is lot of pressure,” I joked. “I don’t think I know how to just be a passenger in here.”

  He laughed. “Right? Same. Do I play music, do I worry about the temperature? I have a lot of internal questions.”

  I laughed, getting more comfortable in the seat. “Don’t overthink it,” I said with a grin, leaning my head back on the headrest, smiling at him. He glanced at me, smiling, and reached out to touch my knee, brushing his fingers against my skin before pulling away, placing his hand back on the steering wheel.

  I stared out the window, feeling different as I saw all the places I’d passed before. “Do you want to get married?”

  He kind of laughed. “Uh, why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know,” I said with a sigh. “Everyone wants me to want a ring. But you know what I want?”

  He stopped at a red light and looked at me, waiting for my answer.

  I sighed again, stretching out my legs, turning to look out the window once more. “I want a hamburger. And, like, a thousand French fries.”

  He laughed, caught by surprise. “Well, that is actually something I can get for you,” he said, brushing his fingers on my knee again as the light turned green. “A ring, not so much.”

  “So you don’t want to get married?”

  He didn’t answer me, turning into a fast-food restaurant instead. I laughed as he ordered exactly what I’d said, having to cover my mouth as he asked if they served fries in quantities of a thousand.

  “Sorry, I think you’ll have to settle for, like, thirty,” he said, passing me the bag.

 

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