“Of course not.”
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“How can I trust you?”
“Have I ever let you down?”
Her silence is my answer.
“I’d never hurt you.”
“You don’t know that,” she argues.
“What do you mean?”
“You know how I am with people. What if you changed your mind and went away?”
I ignore her question. “Do you like me?”
“I don’t know.”
Since it isn’t a no, I’ll take it. “I guess it’s my job to convince you.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Why do I like you? I don’t know the answer to that question. All I know is I think about you all the time and I like doing things I think will make you happy. I like your smile, your laugh, and how different you are.”
“You don’t even know me.”
Sitting back up, I ask, “Tell the truth; is there any other person who knows you better than me?”
“You only know what you see,” she whispers.
“I like what I see.”
I hear her suck in a breath. “Luke.”
“I do. I should have said it this morning, but I was interrupted. Seeing you dressed like you could be going out on a date made me realize how beautiful I think you are.”
“That’s all hair and makeup.”
“I think you’re beautiful when your hair is pulled up and you’re wearing sweats too,” I argue.
“But I’m not perfect.”
“No one is.”
“I think you are,” she replies.
“You think I’m a pain in your ass,” I tease.
She laughs. “Sometimes.”
“Do you believe me?”
“Let me think about it. I need some time.”
“How much time?” I grumble.
“Can I sleep on it?”
“I’m not going to back down until you believe me.”
“I was afraid of that,” she sighs.
“I’m going to be here for a little under a month. I’ll have you convinced before I come home; and once I’m back, we’ll go out on a date.”
She gulps. “Out?”
“Yep.” I grin. “And I’ll be your date to the reunion.”
“Luke.”
“Come on, Lindsay. I’ll be there to take care of you.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“Is it starting to sink in that I like you?”
“You don’t have to be a brat about it,” she snaps.
“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to annoy you.”
“I’m going to go.”
“And sleep on it?” I ask.
“And sleep on it,” she confirms, making me grin.
“Goodnight, Lindsay.”
“Night, Luke.”
I drop my phone on my bedside table and flop onto my bed. By the time I get home, she’ll like me back.
After Lindsay slept on it, she decided she could potentially believe I liked her. She wasn’t going to give me anything more than that though. No indication she liked me back or how she felt about my liking her. She did however agree to keep training with me and she didn’t ignore my calls or texts.
During our web sessions, she was quiet, cautious. On the phone and in texts, she was more open; it was face to face when she was closed off.
Finally, I pushed her to let me know how I could get her to trust me. It took her a couple of days to answer me, but she admitted she had issues trusting people. I asked her to think about the months we’ve known each other at this point, and if I’d done anything to lose her trust. She thought about that for a couple of days before admitting I hadn’t.
The distance between us was turning out to be a good thing when it came to her accepting my feelings for her. It gave her space and a break from our Saturday morning walks while she got used to the idea. What she wasn’t happy about was the fact I stopped billing her. I had to wait until I was done filming before I could call her to talk about it.
All I wanted to do was crash. We were outside doing hill climbs for most of the day. The California sun was no joke. It didn’t matter that I drank a ton of water.
After a shower, I tumble onto my bed and reach for my phone. There is a real possibility I’m going to pass out mid-conversation, but I want to get this out.
Smiling when she answers so quickly, I can’t help but think about how far we’ve already come. That she willingly talks to me on the phone and calls me as well is a huge deal compared to where we started.
“Hi.”
I love the sound of her voice. “Hey.”
“How’s filming going?”
I groan. “Today kicked my ass.”
“That’s crazy, you’re in such good shape.”
“The sun took it out of me. I’m going to crash soon.”
“It’s still early out there.”
“I know; still, I’m exhausted.”
She laughs. “Then why did you call?”
“I got your text about billing you and I wanted to talk about it.”
“You have to bill me.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m not going to bill you anymore.”
“Luke.”
“Lindsay.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I,” I argue. “I want you to be my girlfriend. There’s no way in hell I’m going to keep billing you.”
She gasps.
“Come on,” I continue. “You have to understand that.”
“You want me to be your girlfriend?” she asks, quietly.
“Yes.” I cover my face with my hand.
Sometimes, it is beyond frustrating that she is so uncertain.
“Can I think about it?”
This is has become her standard avoidance technique.
“This is not up for debate,” I counter.
“We’re debating it right now.”
“No, you’re arguing and I’m telling you how it’s going to be.”
“You can’t boss me around.”
“Lindsay,” I groan. “I’m not going to take money from you. Not going to happen.”
“But, you’re still training me.”
“Consider it a perk.”
“You are too much.”
Yawning, I roll over to my side. “Nope, I’m just right.”
“You sound like you’re about to fall sleep.”
“I might.”
“We can talk about this later.”
“I’m not going to change my mind about this.”
“What if I PayPal you anyway?”
“I’ll send it back.”
“Luke,” she sighs.
Being this close to sleep has me saying things I shouldn’t. “You sound so sexy when you say my name.”
She gasps.
“I know I shouldn’t tell you that, but it’s the truth.”
“Why shouldn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t want to scare you off,” I admit.
“Oh.”
“I don’t.”
“I guess I do scare easily.”
I laugh but it ends up sounding more like a cough. “Tell me about it.”
“Hey.”
“I wouldn’t change one thing about you.”
She gulps. “Even my weight?”
Sitting up, I shake my head to clear the wisps of sleep threatening to pull me away. She needs to know how I feel about this, and understand it.
“Your health and happiness are all I care about. The number on the scale isn’t what matters to me. You know I’m attracted to you; that I’ve been attracted to you for a while now.”
“You say that—”
I cut her off. “Hell, I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”
It kills me that she has body issues, makes me sick that there’s this concept of a perceived body shape. The images from magazines only perpetuate it, and it’s probably all Photo
shopped bullshit. If we weren’t bombarded with this crap everywhere we turn, I think people would be happier with themselves.
She still hasn’t replied. “Lindsay?”
“Uh huh,” she mumbles.
“You know I wouldn’t say it unless I meant it, right?”
“Yes,” she concedes.
Lying back down, I stifle another yawn.
“You should go to sleep.”
“I’m awake. Tell me about your day.”
“It was boring. I’ll put you to sleep.”
“I’d like that, to fall sleep, with your voice being the last thing I hear.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Talk me to sleep, Lindsay.”
And she does.
Once Luke falls asleep, I sit and listen to him breathe. Wanting my voice to be the last thing he heard before he fell asleep is overwhelmingly sweet. I can picture him, his handsome face relaxed as he sleeps, his phone tucked under his ear.
He calls me every night now so he can hear my voice before he falls asleep.
He’s too good for me but likes me anyway.
He’s been gone for over two weeks and I miss him.
I haven’t gone for a walk since he’s been gone.
He makes me brave.
In ten days, he’ll be on a flight home.
He likes me, and I’m not sure if my knowing that will mean he’ll be different when he’s home. I don’t know what it will mean for us. He mentioned a date. The idea of going out to a restaurant petrifies me. As long as he’s near, I’ll probably be okay; but what if I have to go to the bathroom or something?
When he calls tonight, I’m going to find out more about this date. He can’t be planning to take me to a place where there’ll be people around. The idea of getting in his car is scary enough on its own.
Since his declaration, we’ve had one failed web session training. The moment he came on my TV, I became so self-conscious. It was almost painful not to have makeup on, but I was scared he’d call me out on it. We ended up staring at each other the whole time and giggling like idiots. In the history of time, there may never have been anything as beautiful as the way Luke looks at me.
That being said; we’ve decided to hold off on the training web sessions and we’ll FaceTime to talk now, our first one being tonight. That’s the reason I’m freaking out over what to wear. I’m always supposed to know what to wear in every situation. Turns out, it’s much easier to dress other people in the hypothetical.
My makeup is a breeze since I already know he thought I looked pretty the other day. A darker lip is the only thing I’m doing differently. As I apply it, I daydream about Luke kissing it all off me. It’s easy to imagine and dream about his hands and lips on me. Will I ever be comfortable enough around him to experience them in real life? I don’t know.
Before Luke, I was positive I would spend the rest of my days alone. It’s funny how much has changed. Yesterday I cried as I ordered a size eight dress from one of my favorite sites. I haven’t worn a single digit dress size in at least fifteen years. When I look in the mirror, I don’t hate my reflection. I now see more things I’m proud of.
My legs and my arms are probably the parts, which make me most proud. If I dedicate one more blog to sleeveless tops, my followers may revolt. There is a decent chance I’m going to end up wearing one of the tops from the post tonight. The only reason I haven’t decided for sure is that it isn’t red; it’s blue. Luke likes red, but I don’t know what he thinks about blue.
I could be overthinking this.
“What do you think, Coco?”
I hold two shirts up and wait for a reaction. A tail flick and one eye briefly opening is all I get.
“Thanks for nothing,” I tease and pull the blue tank on.
He won’t see my legs but I’m wearing my new favorite pair of jeans. They’re a size ten and loose on me. I don’t even have to unbutton them to go to the bathroom if I wiggle enough. I’m not lazy enough to skip the whole button and zipper part, but knowing I can is a weird thrill on its own.
He’s supposed to be FaceTiming me any minute, so it’s the blue tank or my bra, and I’m not ready to have that kind of conversation so blue tank it is. When we talk on the phone, I end up in my bedroom most of the time. Similar to not being ready for him to see me in a bra, I’m also not okay with him seeing my bedroom. He’s already seen my living room plenty of times, so that works.
Sitting on my couch, I nervously wait for his picture to pop up on my tablet. Time seems to stand still until all at once he’s there.
Taking a quick sip of water to wet my suddenly desert like mouth, I answer, “Hi.”
He’s in his room, sitting on his bed. I can see him, on his bed, where he sleeps. He must be fresh from a shower; his hair’s not quite dry.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” I blush when I realize I already said that.
There is a smile hinting around his lips. “Hey.”
Closing my eyes, I laugh. He makes me giddy.
“How are you?”
“I’m good.” It isn’t a lie.
Is this what happy feels like?
“I miss our walks.”
Without thinking, I glance in the direction of the field, our field.
“Have you been since I left?”
I shake my head; it wouldn’t be the same without him.
“Are you waiting for me?” His words light, tone teasing.
“Maybe I am.”
“Only ten more days and I’ll be back.”
My stomach spasms. “I know.”
“Are you looking forward to seeing me?”
Not trusting my voice, I hold his eyes and nod.
“I dreamt about you last night.”
My mouth drops and my cheeks heat. “You did.”
“You kissed me.”
I cover my face embarrassed.
“Don’t be shy.”
That’s like telling me not to have blue eyes, completely out of my control.
“I want to kiss you,” he adds.
I peek up at him, and can’t help but wonder what his kiss would feel like.
“I don’t want to pressure you, so I wanted to know how you felt about that.”
The physical attraction I have for him is there. Part of me is still scared to trust him.
“Lindsay.”
There are things he doesn’t know, things I may never be able to share with him. The reason I avoid people and the world outside my door. Would he still like me if he knew?
“What if I can’t?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll wait.”
“But for how long?” I argue.
“Until you’re ready.”
“You say that…”
“Because I mean it,” he finishes for me.
“There have to be so many girls trying to get your attention.”
“It’s too bad for them that you have all of it.”
His gaze doesn’t waver from my face.
The intensity is too much so I change the subject. “You said when you got back you’d take me out on a date. What kind of date?”
He shakes his head. “No way I’m telling you this far out. It’s a surprise.”
“But—” I start.
“No, buts.”
I can’t help it. I scowl.
He laughs, clearly amused by my expression. “I promise I’ll let you in on the secret before we go anywhere and you can say no.”
My face relaxes. “But that would ruin your surprise.”
“I can live with that.”
I can handle that. “How is filming going?”
He shrugs. “Good, I guess. The cameras are weird. We’re supposed to ignore them and act natural, but that’s easier said than done. I think the episode where we got to the ranch and get paired up with a trainer will air next week.”
“Really?” I beam.
He nods. “Are you going to watch it?”
“Of course I’m goi
ng to watch it. This is so cool.”
He laughs, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. “Promise not to make fun of me if I look stupid.”
I gasp. “I would never, ever make fun of you.”
His face softens when he sees how serious I look. “I didn’t think you would. You’re too sweet.”
“Oh.”
“Lindsay.” His green eyes almost look brown in the low light of his room. “You don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to.”
Oh no.
He continues. “Were you ever bullied?”
My eyes water on their own accord, and I furiously attempt to blink away any tears threatening to escape.
My reaction gives me away. “You were.”
Blink, blink, blink. He’s blurry beyond my unshed tears.
“We can talk about something else.”
I nod. There’s no way I’m opening my mouth right now, not until I’m back in control.
“I like your shirt. You’re showing off your guns.”
Why is a compliment, clearly given to take my mind off painful memories, my undoing? I press my tablet to sever the connection as I choke out a sob. My tears are coming full force now. Is he even real?
My phone is in my room. I hurry there so I can text Luke an apology for ending our chat the way I did. He tries to call as I text but I’m in no condition to speak.
I’m so sorry.
He replies instantly.
Are you okay?
I’m fine. Please don’t worry.
I feel responsible for making you cry.
Don’t.
I hate seeing you cry.
I feel silly for overreacting.
Do you want to talk about it?
No.
We can talk about anything else.
I need some time to calm down.
Will you call me later, before you go to sleep?
I’ll try. I’ll text you if I’m not up to talking.
I’m sorry.
It’s okay. I’m the one who disconnected our chat so rudely.
I don’t care about that.
I’m going to go now.
Carefully, I remove my makeup as my tub fills with steaming hot water. It’s borderline painful as I step into it once it’s full. Hot showers and baths are the only things, which calm me.
Yesterday's Half Truths Page 16
