I just had to make it a little bit longer.
3
Jason
Grey clouds rolled in, giving us all a break from the blazing sun. The live music had stopped about thirty minutes ago, and half the vendors had begun to pack up. That hadn’t prevented many of us from lingering near the beer trailers, though.
“What about you?” It wasn’t the question or even the voice that caught my attention, but the hand on my arm. A small, attractive woman with pink hair stood in front of me, clearly waiting on an answer. However, I had no clue what question she’d even asked. I’d been too busy watching a certain brunette under the tent across from me to pay attention to anything else.
“What we want to drink,” Aaron clarified for me. “They’re out of the seasonal, so what do you want instead?”
We’d walked all over the park for hours, and when Aaron had struck up a conversation with this girl—Sarah or Sally or something like that—she’d brought us to this beer station. She knew the guy working it and had said she could get us free drinks. It just happened to work out that the beer truck was located right across from the tent Tatum occupied.
Ever since she’d run into me earlier, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. Not the same way I was used to thinking about a woman, though. Tatum had left me with more questions than answers. After meeting her a couple of weeks ago, I’d believed her to be the shy, quiet type, maybe the kind of girl who felt uncomfortable around people she didn’t know. But that had all changed when she’d practically jumped on me today and had then done the same to Aaron.
Maybe she’d been high.
I couldn’t help but laugh. There was no way that woman had been on anything. It was obviously just her personality. Either way, I found her quirkiness fascinating. I’d never met anyone like her. I only wished I knew what she was like when she felt comfortable around someone.
“I’ll take whatever you’re having,” I told Aaron, ignoring his questioning stare.
The pink-haired girl told him what kind to get and then returned her attention to me. “Did you do much gambling when you lived in Vegas? I bet you’re great at poker.”
“Yeah . . . I’m a real cardsharp.” It would be nice if I could encounter one person who didn’t assume all of Clark County lived in a casino.
Aaron handed me a plastic cup, but rather than escort us away from the vendor, he leaned his shoulder against the side of the truck to join our conversation. After all, we were only with this chick for him. I had no interest in her.
“Oh, that sounds exciting.” She’d clearly missed the sarcasm. “So were you like a card dealer or something?”
I hesitated, hoping she was kidding. When it was obvious she wasn’t, I said, “Uh . . . no.”
“Then what do you do for a living?”
“He’s a dirt guy,” Aaron answered for me.
Before she could ask what that meant, I decided to clarify—if for no other reason than to save us both time. “I’m a geotechnical engineer, which means I study the earth before anything is built on it.”
“Oh, fancy. You must be smart.”
“Not as smart as this guy.” I hitched my thumb in Aaron’s direction. “Did you know he’s a brain doctor?” I smiled inside as her eyes widened and sparked with excitement.
Aaron’s groans filled my ears. He hated it when I brought up his occupation. If it were up to him, he’d downplay it until people thought he mopped floors at a retirement home. “I’m not a brain doctor,” he corrected me, his monotone conveying just how disgruntled he was. “I’m a psychologist.”
“Yeah . . . who works on brains.” I paused and held out both hands. “Brain. Doctor.”
He rolled his eyes and huffed. “I evaluate nervous system disorders and the behavior . . .”
I tuned him out, having heard this song and dance a thousand times. Then again, he repeated it only because I had a tendency to make him sound like a brain surgeon, but that didn’t matter. A brunette across the way had stolen my attention. Plus, she was much better looking than my friend.
There was no way to know how long I’d watched her clean off the tables, but at some point, a small hand came to rest on my chest, fingertips grazing my collarbone, and it caught my attention. It wouldn’t have been that big of a deal, but at that exact moment, Tatum glanced up. She quickly averted her gaze and dropped her chin. Even from ten feet away, I could see the color in her cheeks brighten.
I glanced down to the hand on my chest, and then trailed my eyes up the arm to find the girl with pink hair staring at me. More than likely, she’d asked me another question I hadn’t heard. And once again, I waited for someone to clear it up.
“I’d hate to be your girlfriend.” Giggles filled Sally-Sarah’s words. I really needed to figure out her name, not because I had any need to know it but because by now, not knowing had begun to irritate me. This seemed to be a recurring issue when it came to women—if I wasn’t related to them and didn’t work with them, there was a good chance I wouldn’t remember their names.
Rather than point out how I’d never be her boyfriend, I asked, “Why?”
“Because you don’t pay attention.” She finally dropped her hand. “Anyway, I was saying you guys should come up to Boots sometime. Have you ever heard of it?”
While I answered with a concise “Nope,” Aaron said, “Hell yeah. I love that place.” Hearing my response, he turned his attention to me. “You’d like it. It’s this club in town—kind of country, kind of modern.”
“If you decide to come, let me know ahead of time. It gets busy on Friday and Saturday nights, but I might be able to secure one of the VIP booths for you if I know in advance.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” I offered a smile of gratitude to the woman in front of me. Stefanie . . . maybe that was her name. “Thanks. That’s really nice of you. I’m sure Aaron will hit you up for that.”
While Aaron walked a few feet away to throw out his empty cup, the girl with pink hair grabbed a napkin off the beer truck. I didn’t think much about it until she picked up a pen and began to write something. Handing it to me, she excitedly said, “Give me a call, and I’ll get a spot reserved for you. And Aaron, of course.”
I wasn’t the kind of guy who’d potentially embarrass someone—especially a girl. So I took the napkin and peeked at her number, hoping she’d added her name. Nope. No such luck. When I glanced up, I happened to catch sight of Tatum again, and like before, the second I saw her, she turned away.
“Thanks. We’ll definitely give you a call if we make it up there.” I shoved her number deep into my front pocket, ignoring Aaron’s inquisitive stare. “I’m getting ready to move into my own place, so I’m not sure when I’ll get a chance to go out.”
“Oh, no worries. My offer doesn’t expire.” Her innocent smile made her appear angelic, which must come in handy for someone who worked for tips at a nightclub.
Aaron turned his face to the sky and pulled in a deep breath. “Looks like it’s about to pour. I’m thinking it might be time to call it a day.”
I stole a peek at Tatum and noticed she had the tent packed up. If I waited too long, I’d miss my opportunity to talk to her before she left, and after our earlier encounter, I wanted to at least say goodbye. “Yeah, I’m ready to go, too. I’m sure I’ll talk to you later.”
Either I’d missed an earlier conversation, or they’d built some unspoken agreement, because Aaron grabbed her hand and led her away. Instead of wasting time by questioning it, I headed toward the tent across from me.
“Need a hand with that?” I didn’t wait for Tatum’s response before grabbing the handle of the wagon she had packed full of various kitchen items.
Her onyx eyes met mine, full of surprise, like she had no idea where I’d come from. As if she hadn’t noticed me standing not far from her for the last ten minutes. She blinked a few times and then slung her bag over her shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ve got it.”
“Just lead the way, and
I’ll follow,” I said, ignoring her insistence on doing it herself.
She must’ve either been too tired to argue or figured I wouldn’t give in, because rather than try to take the wagon from me, she began to walk toward the parking lot. “So . . . I see you know Cheryl.”
“Who?”
Her brows knitted as she narrowed her gaze on me. “Cheryl. The girl you were just talking to. Isn’t that her number in your pocket?”
I fought with all I had in me to bite back the grin of satisfaction. She’d noticed me, except I wasn’t sure if it was out of curiosity or maybe a slight tinge of jealousy. “Oh, that’s her name? I’d forgotten it . . . just knew it started with an S.”
I couldn’t hide my smile any longer when she giggled. “It’s Cheryl—with a C.”
It took me a moment to understand what she was saying, and then it hit me like an overstuffed bag of a bricks. I laughed when I said, “In my defense, it sounds like an S. Sha-sha-Cheryl. See?”
“Yeah. It’s all so clear now. Not only are you an ace at phonics, you also take numbers from women without knowing their names. You’re a real go-getter, aren’t ya?”
I shrugged and continued to follow her past various empty tents. “What was I supposed to do? I didn’t want to be rude. After all, she’d just scored us free drinks. I’d call that gentlemanly.”
“Watch out, Romeo . . . people might find out you’re wearing tinfoil.”
“Huh?”
“You know, instead of a knight in shining armor, you’re an imposter in tinfoil.”
“Yeah, that would’ve totally made sense, except Romeo wasn’t a knight.”
She pulled her lips to the side in contemplation for a moment. “I’m fairly certain you’re wrong, but there’s no need to argue over Shakespeare.”
“So is she your friend or something?”
“Who? Shakespeare? I’m positive he’s a dude. And dead. Clearly, we aren’t friends.”
I was about to keel over laughing. “No. The girl I just met. How do you know her?”
Tatum’s cheeks were the color of cherries. “We’ve hung out in the same group several times. I know who she is, but that’s about it.”
I decided to feel her out a little more. “She was nice.”
Walking a couple steps ahead, she lifted a shoulder, held it for a beat, and then dropped it. “Yeah . . . I guess you could say that.”
“What? You don’t agree?”
“Uh, I just did when I said yeah. Typically, that’s agreeing with something, right?”
“But you made it sound like you don’t. If there’s something I should know, please tell me, because my buddy just left with her.”
“Unless you’re worried she’ll spit shine his knob, I don’t think you have anything to be concerned about.” She grew quiet for a moment and tilted her head back to observe the grey clouds overhead. “I’m in the wrong profession. I should’ve been a weatherperson. It’s like the one job you can totally get wrong without being fired.”
I was amazed how she could go from blow jobs to the weather as if they were somehow related. “I’m sure you don’t have to worry about job security. I watched you in the kitchen with my mom. You look like you know what you’re doing.”
Her pace slowed when we entered the area lined with cars. Completely dismissing my compliment as if she hadn’t heard me, she reached for the wagon, a smile taunting her lips. “Thanks for your unsolicited help, but I can get it from here.”
She seemed to have this uncanny ability to walk away from me, no matter if we were at my aunt’s house or in a parking lot. At the very least, it had taught me to enjoy her company—I never knew when it’d end.
“Nope. I’ve made it this far . . . might as well get it all the way to your car.”
“And then what? Will you insist on driving me home, too?”
I couldn’t be sure, but I thought she was flirting. Which only served to leave me further confused. “Possibly, but I don’t know where you live. So I think you’re safe.”
Her brow furrowed, taking her from fun and flirty to perplexed and restrained. “You don’t know where Kelsey lives? I thought you drove her home last week after dinner.”
“You live with my cousin? How did I not know this?”
“She didn’t mention it?”
I tried to recall what all we’d talked about last weekend at my aunt’s house. Tatum hadn’t been there, but her name had been brought up; apparently, her absence from Sunday lunch had been unusual. Other than that, I didn’t think anything else had been said about her. “No . . . I don’t think she did.”
Bewilderment pinched her face—brows drawn closer together, eyes narrowed, and lips slightly pursed. But she seemed to shake it off with a dismissive eye roll and began to walk again. “Wow, she must really not want you anywhere near me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I quickly moved to catch up, unsure if I’d heard her correctly and unwilling to let it go.
“Nothing,” she said with a flick of her wrist, waving off the entire conversation. “I don’t understand you two, and I’m starting to think I don’t want to.”
“Wait.” I grabbed her hand to keep her from walking too far ahead. “You can’t just make a statement like that and then dismiss it. What do you mean she doesn’t want me anywhere near you? And why do you think you don’t understand us?”
The color in her cheeks darkened as she dropped her gaze to my chest, then to our hands. I so desperately wanted to know what went through her mind as she stood there, studying my hold on her. She had her bottom lip tucked between her teeth, leaving me in a vacuum of anticipation.
“Really, it’s nothing.” She slipped her hand out of mine and dug into the bag slung over her shoulder. When she pulled out her keys, she resumed her pace. “She might’ve mentioned that you’re a sweet talker, and even though she loves you, she’d never forgive herself if one of her friends got tangled up in your sheets. That’s what I meant by not understanding you guys. I can’t tell if you two actually like each other or not.”
We reached the back of her SUV, and using the remote in her hand, she popped the trunk. I stepped in front of her to lift the back gate, though I didn’t drop the subject. As I began to unload the contents of the wagon into the rear, I pried a little more. “Were those her words? Or are you paraphrasing?”
“Maybe a little of both. More specifically, she said you were really good at sweet-talking your way into girls’ pants.”
I paused for a second, desperately trying to form the right words without unveiling my true emotions. I shouldn’t care what Kelsey said about me, nor should it matter what Tatum thought of me. One was my cousin, and the other was her best friend—who was more than likely around her same age. Not to mention, I wasn’t interested in getting into anyone’s pants. If I were, I had plenty of options to choose from, so this shouldn’t bother me.
Yet it did.
“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”
Her head snapped back in a dramatic show of confusion. “Avoiding you? When? Today’s the first time I’ve seen you since the barbecue, and in case you don’t remember, I definitely did not avoid you. I gave you quite the welcome. Not to mention, I don’t think what we’re doing right now constitutes avoidance. Just sayin’.”
She had a point, and it served to lighten my irritation over whatever Kelsey had told her. “I just mean how you act when you’re around me. Like you’re uninterested in talking to me and can’t wait to get away.”
I finished unpacking the wagon, but I had no idea how it folded up. When I turned to her for help, I found her chewing on the inside of her cheek in thought. I wasn’t sure what she was looking at, but her gaze was off to the side, almost locked on the packed dirt where tires had killed any chance for grass to grow. And again, I wished I could hear her thoughts.
Then her narrowed gaze swung to my face, and she regarded me with a frown. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel that way. Honestly, I don’t care wh
at Kelsey says about you. I’m not the kind of girl who’ll jump into bed with a hot guy after a few compliments—unless I’ve had a lot of tequila. And I don’t like tequila.”
My cheeks burned from the unrelenting strain of my smile, and my raised brows made my forehead ache. Not a sound came from me, yet my entire face felt like I’d spent the last hour laughing hysterically.
“I’m sorry, but . . . what?” I finally asked when I could no longer remember what we were even talking about. “I’m usually great at following along, but I’m pretty sure you lost me.”
“Yeah . . . it happens.” She bent down, took the liner out of the wagon, and pulled a string. Instantly, the cart was nothing more than a compact rectangle with wheels sticking out of the bottom. “Anyway, thanks for your help. It wasn’t needed, I didn’t ask for it, but it was super nice of you.”
Still, I couldn’t focus. It was like she’d given me ADD in thirty seconds. I could do nothing but watch her slide the cart into the back and then reach above her head to close the hatch. It wasn’t until she stood on one side of the bumper and I remained on the other that I realized she was leaving.
“I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
“Wait!” I shouted a little too loudly and launched myself a step away from her. It was like I’d been snapped out of the attention deficit fog long enough to remember one thing. “I don’t get a hug?”
One perfect brow arched high on her smooth forehead, and her top lip curled just enough to show confusion rather than disgust. That was all I needed to confirm my earlier assumption of her—although, I still didn’t have answers for any other part of our awkward encounter. It was enough to prove that her outgoing personality from a few hours ago had been for show. Now, if I could only find out why.
“You said you’re a hugger,” I reminded her with my arms out wide.
“Oh. Yeah, that’s right. I like to give hugs.” If looks came with taglines, hers would have read “Kill me now” as she wrapped her arms around my waist. However, this hug was stiff, nothing like the desperate embrace she’d given me before. It was quick, and rather than rest her cheek against my chest, she kept her face somewhat turned, meeting me more with her chin than anything else. Forced . . . that’s what it was.
The (Half) Truth Page 4
