Our Unscripted Story

by L. A. Fiore

  His eyes warmed and my tummy quivered. “Cheeseburger, fries and a coke…please.”

  Maybe I should mention I was on the menu. Then I remembered he could read minds so I quickly asked, “How do you want your burger cooked?”

  “Medium.”

  I loved his voice. I could listen to him talk all night, anything would do, even the instruction manual for the new gaming system Paige bought this past weekend.

  I wrote his order down and turned to go, adding from over my shoulder, “Let me know when you want the toaster.”

  “What time do you get off work?”

  Looking back at him, I couldn’t read his expression but I liked it. “Nine.”

  “There’s a full moon tonight. I was going to take a walk to the jetty later. Do you want to come?”

  In my head I screamed yes while jumping up and down. To him, I said, “That sounds like fun.”

  He responded with a smile that was slow to form, but magnificent when done.

  Giant spiders could attack the diner or The Cure could walk through the door, but I’d be oblivious because that smile just made it to the top of my favorite things list. I wondered if he’d sketch that for me? I almost asked. I needed a chaperone around this boy because he did funny things to my body and my head. Time to abort before I did something stupid, like lick him like a lollipop. “I’ll go place this. It shouldn’t be longer than ten minutes.”

  “Thank you, Alexis.”

  The way my name rolled off his tongue, inflected with that sexy accent, caused goosebumps. Forming words was simply out of the question. I fled like I was on fire. In the kitchen, I gave thought to dunking my head in the cold dishwater.

  Paige followed me. “The fireworks going off between the two of you, it was definitely not your imagination that first day.”

  “I don’t know what it is about him, but he makes me crazy.”

  She rested her hip against the counter. “In a good way?”

  “Yes.”

  “Nice.”

  “Not nice. I can’t control my thoughts when I’m around him. I’m…” I lowered my voice so Mel wouldn’t overhear, “Thinking about him naked, Paige.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “It’s objectifying.”

  “So.”

  “And embarrassing.”

  “He’s hot and you’re a teenager. I think about Grant naked all the time. Even right now.” A wicked look swept her face. She really was thinking about Grant naked. I couldn’t help the laugh.

  “Stop it.”

  She chuckled, “Relax, Alexis. You’re human.”

  “And horny.”

  “You’re a teenager, that’s a perpetual state. Welcome to the club.”

  I tried for cool when I left the kitchen, but I kept looking over at Greyson’s table. I hoped I was being subtle, but I couldn’t help looking. He was here; he was waiting for me. My insides felt like a bottle of bubbly that had been shaken. He was sketching. I wondered what he was sketching because he hadn’t lifted his head from the paper.

  At closing time, Paige offered to finish up for me. I pulled off my apron, washed my hands and went to join Greyson. Approaching his table, my heart pounded and I had chills of excitement racing down my arms because he had stayed for me. Had I been a cartoon there would be colored hearts drifting over my head. Reaching his table, I kind of stumbled a bit seeing what he’d been diligently working on. It was me. Studying the lines of my face, how he saw me, I was beautiful to him.

  Speechless, I could only nod when he said, “Shall we?”

  His bike was out front. Like we’d been doing it for years, he handed me the helmet. The bike roared to life. I held him like I had that first ride, as close as possible.

  The moon was full providing enough light to see our way to the jetty. The ocean was calm tonight. We settled on the rocks.

  “This is a great spot,” Greyson offered.

  It was and even more so now with him. I wasn’t going to pry, but we were here. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Where did you come from?”

  He chuckled, “Did my accent give it away?”

  “Sorry, it’s just you’re a senior and you’re here. I’m curious.”

  “Home is Ireland, a little place outside of Kerry. My grandfather has an artist friend who retired in San Francisco. We moved to the States so he could start managing me. He thinks I should be touring, has already contacted a few of his connections to sponsor shows for me at their galleries, but Grandfather wants me to finish my schooling. That’s why we settled here, far enough from San Francisco to keep me focused on school but close enough to make my agent’s work easier.”

  Was it fate that put people in each other’s paths? Or was my fairy godmother trying to tell me something? They could have settled in any number of small towns along the West Coast and yet by chance he was dropped right into the middle of my world.

  “It must feel good to not only know what you want to do with your life, but to know you’re good enough to do it.”

  His expression softened in reply before he asked, “What about you? Is writing what you want to do?”

  “Yes. I’ve been writing short stories for as long as I can remember, but I’d like to start a full-length novel.”

  “Do you have a subject?”

  Him. I didn’t say that though. “I’m working on it. My hope is to study creative writing at NYU.”

  Surprised, he said, “That’s quite a hike.”

  I shifted my focus to the horizon. “I like it here, but I’ve always felt drawn to New York City. I don’t know why, maybe because it is so far from home, something different.”

  “I’ve never been to New York.”

  “If your art ever takes you to the East Coast, look me up. I’ll give you a tour.” I was teasing, but not really. One day he’d been gone. Maybe we could give fate a little hand and get our paths to cross again.

  “I’m going to take you up on that, Alexis.”

  “I hope you do.”

  I wished I knew what he was thinking; his expression was intense.

  “I should probably get you home.” I didn’t want to go home. I wanted to stay right here with him, but we did have school in the morning.

  He stood and reached for my hand. I didn’t know what it was about that moment, but it was one I knew I would remember always. The way he looked in the moonlight. His wide palm held out to me, the look of interest on his face that matched my own. I slipped my hand into his and knew with certainty that my life would never be the same.

  “I don’t agree. McDonalds is infinitely better than Burger King.”

  “Flame broiled, babe, all the way,” Greyson countered.

  It was sixth period and we weren’t writing. We were learning about each other in the silliest way. “Let me guess, you’re a Pepsi fan too.”

  Humor danced in his eyes. “You’re not?”

  “No.”

  “Star Wars or Star Trek?”

  “Star Wars, hands down,” I said a little too emphatically.

  “That we agree on.”

  I sighed loudly. “Lucky, because I can’t be friends with someone who likes Captain Kirk over Luke Skywalker.”

  Greyson was working in his spiral ring again. He’d been vague the last time I asked, it didn’t discourage me from asking again. “Is your portfolio mostly sketches or do you have paintings as well?”

  His gaze lifted. “Mostly paintings. The sketches are for fun.”

  “Do you have a preference…people, landscapes?”

  “Usually landscapes in oil. I rarely paint people.”

  He had sketched me. I wanted to preen like a peacock at the honor. “You mentioned your grandfather’s friend was lining up galleries to showcase your work. Do you have any idea what to expect?”

  “Lots of touring. Living out of my suitcase, meeting more people than I’ll ever remember, trying to squeeze in painting while networking.”
r />   “Will you come back here?”

  “I’ll likely get an apartment in San Francisco and Grandfather will go home. He misses it.”

  I didn’t know him; I liked who I was getting to know, but he really was just passing through.

  “I have no illusions. It’s going to suck in the beginning, lots of hard work and socializing, something I’m not really good at, but it is necessary. You’ll have to do the same. Writing the book is only part of it, marketing and promoting, carving out a niche for yourself is just as important.”

  He was right, but I didn’t want to talk about me. I wanted to know more about him. “Are your parents here too?”

  His shoulders tensed and he stopped sketching. “No. They died a few years ago, a car accident.”

  My heart broke. He had lost his parents too.

  “Why do I have a feeling you can relate?” he asked.

  “I was abandoned very young. I have foster parents and well, they aren’t really parents.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They aren’t interested in parenting; they just want the check.”

  His expression turned dark. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, but I have family. I’m good. I’m sorry about your parents.” He was old enough to remember them. That was a double-edged sword. He had memories of his parents, but he also knew them well enough to feel the loss of them.

  “I try to remember the good times. Like my mom, she loved horses. Whenever she had free time, she was riding the moors. She taught me to ride when I was very little.”

  I could see him on horseback. He’d be magnificent. “Do you still?”

  “I haven’t since we arrived in the States, but back home I’d go out a few times a month.”

  I wanted to see that; him on horseback, riding over his land, and was surprised at the sadness that washed over me knowing I never would.

  He studied me for a second before a grin pulled at his mouth. “Ding Dongs or Twinkies?”

  I was grateful for the subject change because I knew I was going to miss him when he was gone; how much was what worried me. “Twinkies.”

  Alexis

  “Seriously, what is up with the gooey eyes?” Dominic asked as we sat at the table in front of Grant’s garage.

  “I don’t have gooey eyes.”

  “You do. You look kind of dopey.”

  “Dopey? If I was closer, I’d smack you in the head.” I’m sure I did look dopey because I had Greyson on the brain.

  Grant walked from one of the bays, a giggling Tara on his shoulders and a squealing Amanda on his foot. They were four and three respectively. Paige and Grant’s children were cherubs; that’s what I called them. And Grant. It wasn’t a wonder that I crushed on him for so long. He was awesome with his tattoos and long hair. Badass and yet he doted over his girls. He was totally swoon worthy.

  “The garage has rodents. I need to call an exterminator,” he teased.

  “Serious rodents. Look at the size of them,” Dominic said as he swept Mandy into the air. “Good eating right here.”

  She squealed louder.

  “Where’s Paige?” I asked as Grant dropped Tara to her feet; she immediately climbed into my lap.

  “The salon.”

  “I’ll watch these two if you have to get back to work.”

  “Would you mind? I might be able to leave on time if I get this bike done.”

  “No problem. I’ll fill them with sugar and wind them up; that’s what aunts are for.”

  Grant laughed and pressed a kiss on my head. “Thanks, Alexis.”

  I sighed softly because he really was the perfect man.

  A motorcycle pulled into the lot. I followed Grant’s gaze and sighed again. Greyson.

  “Can I help you?” Grant asked as he approached Greyson whose pale eyes were on me. A grin tugged at his mouth before his focus turned to Grant. He offered his hand.

  “Who’s that?” Tara asked.

  “His name is Greyson.”

  Her wide eyes looked up into mine. “Do you know him?”

  “Yes.”

  “He is pretty.”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “The new kid. I wonder what’s brought him here,” Dylan teased when he returned with the sundaes.

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” Dominic added. They were dorks. He dropped Mandy at the table. The girls helped themselves to the twin’s ice cream.

  I rested my head on my hand and watched Greyson and Grant. I loved Grant, but it was Greyson who gave me butterflies and made my palms sweaty.

  “I’ll take a look at it. Give me a few minutes.” Grant headed back into his shop. Greyson strolled over to me.

  “Hey, Alexis.”

  “Hi. Something wrong with your bike?”

  “Nothing major, I hope.”

  Tara was pulling on my arm. “I want to meet him.” She thought she was whispering but she wasn’t.

  Greyson hunched down next to her as I offered the introductions. “Greyson, Tara, Tara, Greyson.”

  He lifted Tara’s hand and pressed a kiss on it. You could see it in her eyes, her little heart was lost, her first crush. I understood completely.

  “My hand, my hand,” Mandy called. “Kissy my hand too.” She thrust her hand out at Greyson. He was a sport because he did kiss her hand, like she was the only girl whose hand he had ever kissed. Mandy fell in love too.

  “These two are Dominic and Dylan.”

  “You don’t need to kiss my hand.” Dylan was such a dork. “Nice to meet you.”

  “And you.”

  “Irish?” Dominic asked.

  “Aye.”

  “I’m getting more ice cream since the rodents ate ours,” Dylan pointed out. “Do you want anything?”

  “No thanks, mate.”

  I think I fell in love too.

  “Alexis, if you can pry your eyes from Greyson. Do you want some ice cream?”

  Dylan was completely unfazed by my death rays. “No, thank you.”

  “Dom, come with me. Don’t say anything important until we get back.”

  I gave Dylan a face then turned to Greyson to find he was gone. Tara had one hand, Mandy had the other, and they were leading him to their hopscotch board. I watched completely charmed as Greyson made two little girls’ day…hell, their year.

  I didn’t hear Paige until she knocked her shoulder into mine. “Looks like my girls are giving you some competition.”

  “How sweet is that?”

  “Very.”

  I turned to her then took a double take. “You cut your hair.”

  “It was getting to be too much.”

  “I love it.” Instead of falling to mid-back, her black locks brushed her shoulders.

  “Does Grant know you were doing that?”

  “No.”

  “He loves your hair.”

  “I know.”

  “So we might get some unexpected fireworks.”

  Dylan and Dominic had a huge crush on Paige. Always competing for her attention. Today was no exception when they returned and immediately pushed me out of the way so they could each have a side.

  “We got ice cream. Would you like some?” I understood the dopey look Dylan mentioned earlier because he was sporting it now.

  “I got chocolate,” Dominic said.

  “So did I.”

  “But mine has sprinkles,” Dominic lifted his spoon to Paige’s mouth. She was trying hard not to laugh.

  “Maybe she doesn’t like sprinkles,” Dylan hissed.

  “Maybe she does.”

  Before they started taking swings at each other, Grant walked from the garage, saw Paige and froze. I wanted to be on the receiving end of a look like that. It wasn’t just love, it was lust, it was familiarity…it was like they shared a secret. I envied them.

  Grant changed direction and I took a step back because I knew what was coming. He grabbed his wife and knocked her socks off with a kiss so passionate I felt it.

  The girls
immediately started making gagging sounds. I looked back. Greyson was watching me, a look that I could get used to seeing. I joined him.

  “Paige,” I offered.

  “His wife,” he guessed.

  “Yep.”

  Paige was breathless when Grant released her. She called, “Pizza for dinner. Who’s coming with me to get it?”

  The twins offered instantly, both looking a little heartbroken witnessing the obvious love between Paige and Grant. Poor guys.

  Grant headed to Greyson’s bike.

  “Stay for pizza.” The invite was out of my mouth before I realized I was going to offer it.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.” I called to Grant, “Greyson’s joining us for pizza.”

  “Cool,” he called back.

  “See. Easy peasy.”

  “Greyson, it’s your turn,” Tara called.

  He flashed me a smile that stilled my heart before he returned to the girls.

  “Do you have to go home now?” Greyson asked after we’d said goodnight to the gang. I liked him hanging with us, liked that he fit.

  “No.”

  “Do you want to get dessert?”

  “The diner makes the best hot fudge sundae.”

  “Sold. I’ll bring some food home for Grandfather and Nigel.”

  “Nigel?”

  “His estate manager. He flew in earlier to go over the books and pending business matters. I decided to make myself scarce because the two of them can get quite rowdy.”

  I was still stuck on the estate part. “An estate?”

  “Yeah, my family’s home is one of the oldest castles in Ireland.”

  My jaw dropped. He grinned and touched my chin to close it.

  “You live in a castle?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Like staff and housekeeper and gardener?”

  “Yes. It’s been in my family since the fourteenth century.”

  What must that feel like to have ancestry like that, to walk the same halls as family had centuries earlier. I didn’t even know my parents and he had generations of family. I was a little envious.