by Tina Martin
“Is that so?”
“Yep, that’s so and I can’t believe I told you that, actually.”
“So, you’re only interested in me because of the way I look? Is that what you’re telling me, because I thought introverts went deeper than the surface.”
“And what do you know about introverts?”
“I wrote a paper on your kind college.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“What would make you choose such a boring subject to write about?”
“It’s not boring. Normal people are boring, like myself. I figured it would be too mind-numbing to write about myself being an extrovert and all, so I went the opposite direction.”
“You’re basically saying I’m abnormal.”
“You are,” he responded incautiously. “I’ve never met a grown woman who was afraid to look me in the eyes.”
Elsie nodded slowly, but felt like she was being scolded for some reason. She knew her faults. She didn’t need them reiterated to her, especially in an uncompassionate kind of way.
When Trevor noticed she’d gotten quiet, it dawned on him who he was talking to and how he’d spoken to her. She wasn’t a woman who could handle his unfiltered candor. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean that in a insulting way.”
“That’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay. I’m sorry. I want you to know that.”
“Okay.”
He took a sip of water studying her again. Thanks to him, she was getting uncomfortable. He hoped a change of subject would bring her back. “What do you do for fun, Elsie?”
“Um…watch football. Sleep.”
He chuckled. “You sleep for fun?”
“Yep, and watch movies. What about you? What does the it guy do for fun?”
He laughed. “I do a variety of things. I do operas, basketball, skating, painting—you name it. I like to keep my options open.”
Elsie’s brows raised. “You do opera and painting?”
“I do, and I’ve been known to take a cooking class here and there.”
“That’s impressive.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. Women like men who can dabble into a variety of things, especially cooking.”
“Or maybe it’s just you who likes it.”
A smile glowed on her face. “Maybe you’re right.” She took a sip of water. “So, I’ve been itching to ask you this and now’s my chance.”
He chuckled. “Okay.”
“Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”
“Ah, the age-old question...must be something wrong with me since no one’s snatched me up yet right?”
“No. It could mean you’re just very picky.”
“I am picky.”
“I thought so.”
“But there’s more to it than that. A year ago, I was supposed to get married. A few days before the wedding, my fiancée, Rachel, broke up with me. It was very cut and dry. There was no feeling behind it. No explanation. She just broke up with me and that was the end of that. I never did find out why.”
“That must’ve been devastating.”
“It was. After that, I had no real desire to date. After all, I was one of those men who never wanted to get married in the first place. Don’t get me wrong, if I was in a relationship with someone, I was committed to that person so to me, there was no point in getting married. But Rachel kept asking and I saw how upset it made her that I wouldn’t put a ring on her finger and sign a piece of paper. I hated to see her upset, and I did love her, so I proposed. I proposed and she dumped me before the wedding.” He shook his head. “See, I’m not perfect after all.” Trevor finished off his water, then asked, “What about you? Any bad break ups?”
“No. I dated a guy briefly in college and when I say date, I mean he was like my study partner who kissed me a few times.”
Trevor grinned. “Nothing concrete ever developed?”
“No. He said I was boring—no surprise there, right?—then he started seeing some other girl who he later called an upgrade from me.”
“Well, he sounds like an idiot.”
Elsie chuckled.
“I’ve always believed there’s much more to a person than the way they look. With that being said, I think you’re beautiful, Elsie, and somewhere lost inside of you is a graceful, willing spirit dying to escape the chains you’ve bound yourself with.”
Elsie’s face reddened as she smiled uncomfortably while looking down at her plate, deciding if she could stomach more food.
“Don’t be afraid to live, Elsie.”
“Easier said than done.”
He nodded in agreement. “You know, I still haven’t told my parents about the breakup. They think me and Rachel pushed the wedding date back and that we’re still together.”
“You’re not going to tell them?”
“I will, I think. I’m not sure. I don’t want to disappoint my mother. I couldn’t care less what my father thought about any of it.” Trevor tossed the last shrimp into his mouth. “Hey, do you want to share a dessert or are we done?”
A bold change of subject Elsie thought. She looked at him. He was staring back with his kryptonite eyes. Her eyes took in their magnificence as well as the hair above his top lip as he chewed when she replied, “I didn’t get to look at the dessert menu, so we can go if you would like.”
“Actually, I can recommend an excellent dessert here. Do you like strawberry cheesecake?”
“Yes.”
“They make a decadent one here and the slices are so big, you can’t eat it by yourself. What do you say we split a piece?”
“Fine with me, although I thought you were ready to go.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because of how you changed subjects so fast.”
“Only because we’re supposed to be having a good time. I want you to enjoy yourself, not think about my past relationship or yours for that matter.”
Trevor ordered the cheesecake when their waitress came back, then he asked Elsie, “Who told you that you were an introvert?”
“Nobody. I told myself. I definitely fit the definition. What’s crazy is, some people take my standoffish ways the wrong way. They think I’m stuck-up when I’m really too timid to be a social butterfly. I’m socially challenged.”
“I get it. My mother’s the same way.”
“Aha! So, that’s why you wrote that paper on the subject.”
“It is.” He smiled. “I think I’m the exact opposite of her because I had to learn early on to be more outspoken for her sake. To protect her.”
“Protect her from what?”
The waitress came back with dessert and two forks.
“Dig in,” Trevor said. “I would hate to eat all of this by myself. My abs would hate it, too.”
Elsie scooped up a strawberry. Since Trevor didn’t bother answering her question about his mother, she left the subject alone. “Do you work out a lot?”
“Not a lot. I cut it back to three times a week and then it’s just weight training.”
“Oh.”
“What about you?”
“I know I should but I don’t, and that’s just me being lazy.”
“I’m sure there’s a fitness center at your complex.”
“There is. Now, ask me how many times I’ve been there.”
“I think I have an idea.”
She smiled.
He watched her again as she ate dessert. He knew now that she was as sweet as the cheesecake she was eating. He also knew he didn’t want this to be the last time he hung out with her. That surprised him because after Rachel, he’d turned down every woman who tried to get his attention. Granted, Elsie hadn’t tried. Her friend went behind her back to pull this off, and he took it from there and happy he did so because there was something special about Elsie Evans, and he intended to find out exactly what that was.
Chapter 11
Elsie
I feel accomplished.
I wasn’t a complete wreck around Trevor tonight and I hope he could see the improvement. Don’t get me wrong – he still makes me nervous with his sophisticated swag, prodigious presence and prepossessing features, but at least now, I have a feel for his personality and know what to expect from him. From us. We’re friends, and I’m okay with that. I don’t have to be twitchy around a friend. Being friends is the safe option. If he was the kind of man who would find a basic girl like me worth a dating chance, I’d be grateful. But it is what it is. Maybe I can use this experience to learn how to be comfortable around a man without losing my mind. If it’s true what they say – that people come into your life for a reason – then this has to be the reason he’s here.
Trevor parks in the no-parking zone at my complex and shuts off the engine. Why is he shutting off the car? I thought we were done hanging out. Is he coming up to my apartment to hang out some more?
Anxiety building, I reach for the door handle.
“I’ll get that,” he says, getting out and walking around the car. He opens my door so I can exit.
“Thank you,” I say.
“You’re welcome,” he responds and flashes an easy smile.
“Why do men do that?”
“Do what?” he asks following me to the stairs now.
“Open doors for women like we’re incapable?”
He grins, looks at me then gestures for me to climb the stairs ahead of him. “We know you’re capable. It’s just courteous. Polite. Respectful. I could go on.”
“Yeah, but eventually it stops, doesn’t it?”
He chuckles. “Not necessarily. The frequency may slow down though.”
“Nope, it stops, especially if a man has been with a woman for a long time, in which case he’d break his old neck to open the door for someone else while poor wifey has to fend for herself.”
His laugh echoes up the stairs. “I suppose that could happen in some instances—”
“A lot of instances,” I interject to say. I’m digging in the side pocket of my purse for my keys. The dull lighting outside doesn’t offer much help and I don’t know why I feel all panicky like I lost them because I know they’re in here.
Relief settles within me when I finally find them. Before I can unlock the door, Trevor asks, “So, how was tonight?”
“It was nice.”
“Was it better than Monday?”
“Ten times better,” I say, barely looking at him and still I can feel the intensity of his eyes which has me starting to think that maybe those gorgeous things have some sort of mystic powers after all.
“I thoroughly enjoyed myself, tonight,” he says.
I try my best not to blush or look exceedingly elated, but I somehow manage to do both. “Good. I’m glad,” I say, then force eye contact with him. He smiles, goodness he smiles, and my heart flutters.
“You said you liked to watch football, right?”
“I did say that. Yes.”
“What do you say we get together on Sunday and watch the Carolina playoff game?”
“Really?” I say in a state of shock, adjusting my glasses.
“Yes. I can come by here since I’m between homes at the moment.”
“Oh. Okay. Um...”
Say no, Elsie. Say no. Say no.
The voice I always hear in my head, which now I’m figuring out is the negative one that’s been holding me back for so long has returned, telling me to decline Trevor’s offer. But this time, I have no desire to say no. I want to see him again.
“Yes, I would like that.”
His eyes sparkle with surprise. “You would?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll see you Sunday.”
“Yes. You know where I live now.” Of course, he knows where you live, silly. You’re standing in front of your door talking to him right now.
He smiles.
I turn away to attempt to unlock the door again when I hear him say, “Elsie?”
I look up at him. “Yes?”
“You don’t have to be nervous. We’re just friends, remember?”
“Right,” I say, controlling my breathing. “Friends.”
He extends his hand to me for a shake. I reach to connect my hand with his and I close my eyes when our hands touch. I feel a spark – something serendipitous that happens the moment he holds my hand inside of his grasp. When I feel him squeeze my hand tighter, I open my eyes and see this weird expression on his face. He’s probably wondering why I closed my eyes in the first place. People usually close their eyes before a kiss, not a handshake.
“Have a goodnight, Elsie.”
“You too, Trevor.”
“I will, thanks to you.”
Oh my gosh…he’s totally hitting on me. Wait, no, he’s just being friendly. Whatever the case, he’s still holding my hand and I’m sweating so bad, I feel like I peed a lil’ bit.
“I guess I’ll let you go now,” he says, freeing my hand. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” I respond before unlocking the door, closing it right behind me as I enter my apartment and locking it back again.
With my back pressed against the door, I lean forward with my hands on my lower thighs, panting for air like I just ran a mile. Shrew, this man’s got me going. I feel the seat of my pants, making sure they aren’t wet. They’re not. So, I peep through the blinds just in time enough to see Trevor pull off. I still can’t believe I agreed to let him come over here and hang out with me.
Standing in the shower, I ponder this and muse over the evening I had with Trevor. We had a really good evening – one of the best evenings of my adult life. And that feel-good high remains with me because, for the first time in my life, I’m singing in the shower. The water feels extra warm tonight. The soap, extra foamy. And my right hand – the hand Trevor squeezed – has lost its natural function, at least for now. I can’t even hold my loofa with it so I’m left-handed for the rest of the night.
When I’m done with my shower and preparing for bed, I check my phone before plugging the charger into it and I see an outbreak of text messages from Priscilla:
Priscilla 9:31 PM: What’s up, chick?
Priscilla 9:42 PM: Hey, what u doin’?
Priscilla 9:55 PM: Elz, hit me back
Priscilla 9:58 PM: Um…where r u?
She texts me so much, it’s a wonder she’s married. Gee, where’s Billie or her married friends for that matter? She has plenty of them, especially after attending all the high-class functions Billie takes her to. I decide to send her a quick response before I go to bed:
Elsie 10:17 PM: Hey…had long week…was sleeping. Call u later.
I turn the volume off and switch my phone to vibrate, then place it on my nightstand. I lose myself between my cool bed covers, close my eyes and see his face.
Trevor.
I try not to think about him, but it’s nearly impossible. He’s infiltrated my mind and I’m looking forward to spending even more time with him on Sunday. For now, I rest easy, glad that I got a second chance with my new friend.
Chapter 12
Trevor
Trevor took a small box from the range and carried it inside. Usually, his Saturdays were designated for leisure time, but since he was moving, there was hardly any time for leisure. Just work.
Reid was still looking around, giving himself a tour of his friend’s new digs. The three-bedroom flat was move-in ready, just what Trevor was looking for when he’d started house hunting. The living room had a brick fireplace, the focal point of the room. The master bedroom came with a walk-in closet, his and her vanities, a jet tub and newly tiled floors. The remaining two bedrooms were equal sizes. One, he’d planned to use for an office. The other, a guest bedroom. The kitchen came with a small island and plenty of cabinetry. One of his favorite features of the house was the large, screened-in back porch. The screen would allow him to enjoy the elements without actually being exposed to them – an option he didn’t have at the high-rise.
“This is ni
ce, man,” Reid said after stepping inside the kitchen. He’d just toured the backyard. “That’s going to be a lot of yard to cut come spring, though.”
“I know. I’m going to either hire a landscaper or buy a riding mower.”
“Hiring someone would be more like it. You’re going to be too busy working at E-commerce Business Networks to be doing yard work.”
“Right,” Trevor said, taking a box from the island, lowering it to the floor. He stood up and wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
“You don’t seem too excited about that.”
“I’m excited,” he responded flatly. “I just don’t like the way it’s working out, you know. It’s like someone handing me something I didn’t earn.”
“Oh, you earned it,” Reid said, opening a bottle of water. He took a swig. “You asked that girl out, and that was the deal.”
“Yep, that was the deal,” Trevor said.
“There’s no need to feel bad about it, then.”
“You’re right.”
Reid handed Trevor a bottle of water. “You look exhausted. Did you go out kickin’ it without me last night?”
“Nah,” Trevor responded. He did go out, but it was with Elsie. And he had a nice evening sharing parts of his life with her. He hadn’t done that in quite some time – shared his life with anyone. It was like second nature with her. A part of him felt guilty about the deal he struck with Priscilla because Elsie was truly a genuine down-to-earth woman and he enjoyed her company. He enjoyed it so much, he was counting down the hours until he would see her again. A smile curved his lips at the thought of it.
Reid lifted a brow. “What are you smiling about?”
“I was just thinking about something.”
“Something or someone?” Reid probed. When Trevor didn’t respond, Reid came to his own conclusion and asked, “You’re seeing her, aren’t you? The girl?”
“Sort of,” Trevor admitted without hesitation. “I took her out again last night.”
