What. The. Fuck.
I can’t get to sleep after Javi leaves. My new bed is large and empty without him and I can’t get comfortable no matter how much tossing and turning I do.
After a while I give up, grab a blanket and head out to the living room and turn on the television. Maybe that will somehow distract my mind for a little while.
I’m flipping through the channels, not even caring what’s on and then there’s a knock at the door. Knowing who’s going to be standing on the other side, I consider for a moment if I’m going to answer it. Javi almost never knocks.
I walk to the door and open it a few inches.
“Hey,” he says. He looks like shit and smells like cigarettes.
“You smoked,” I say and he nods.
“Can I come in?” His voice cracks a little and he shivers. It’s a cold night and he’s just wearing the t-shirt he left in.
“I don’t know. Are you going to not be a jerk to me?” He nods slowly.
“I’m sorry. I’m having a bad day and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have done that and I’m sorry. I don’t know if you’ve noticed this or not, but I’m not very good at sharing anything personal, other than when I want to sleep with you. There are a lot of things you don’t know about me and I don’t know if I’m ready to talk about them with you yet. I do know that I want to let you in. It’s fucking cold out here.” He wraps his arms around himself and I open the door wider.
“Come in, Javi.” He comes in and I shut the door behind him. He has his bag with him and when I turn and head for my bedroom, he follows me.
“Thank you, Hazel. For letting me back in. I probably wouldn’t have.” I sigh and hold my bedroom door open for him.
“Yeah, well, you’re not me. So,” I say.
He cracks a tiny smile and then takes off his clothes and gets back into bed. I follow suit and he pulls me close.
“I want you to know about me, but I’m scared. You scare me. This scares me,” he whispers in my ear. I turn in his arms so I’m facing him.
“I know. I’m scared too.”
In the morning, Javi is quiet, but he’s not sad like he was last night. He’s thoughtful now.
“Can I expect a lot of those sorts of nights? Because I’d like to prepare for them if they’re going to be a regular thing,” I ask as he makes us waffles. I told him I wasn’t hungry, but he’s making them anyway. Jett and Shannon are having breakfast on campus since they slept late and have to rush to class.
“I’ll try and let you know ahead of time. Oh, and I guess I owe you two dinners now.” Right, the smoking. I’d forgotten about that with everything else.
“Yup, you do. So I guess that means we’re going to dinner. Sounds like a date.” I hate to call a spade a spade, but two people who are sleeping together eating a meal in public can’t really be construed as anything but a date.
“That’s right, that’s right. So, where would you like to go? And when? It’s all up to you,” he says. I don’t want it to be up to me. I hate choosing things like that.
“I’ll look and see. Maybe we could go someplace out of town.” Most of the local places cater to poor college students so it’s mostly pizza and sandwiches, nothing fancy.
“I’m up for something fancy if it means you get to wear a pretty dress.” Come to think of it, Javi has never seen me in a dress. And I’d sure as hell love to see him in dress pants and a button-down. Fuck, that would be hot. Why hadn’t I thought about this sooner?
“I’m up for something fancy if it means you wear a dress shirt and dress pants,” I say and he groans.
“I don’t know about that, Haze. I don’t even own either of those things.” I call bullshit on that one.
“Nice try, but I’ve seen your closet.”
He whirls around, waffles forgotten.
“When?”
“Um, when you were doing something in the kitchen and I said I had to get something out of your room. I looked in your closet so I know what’s in there. I also know you have dress shoes. They looked brand new, too.”
Javi points his spatula at me.
“Stay out of my closet,” he says.
“Oh, like you’ve stayed out of mine?”
He looks down. Ha. I know he’s gone through my closet.
“So, don’t get mad at me for doing the same thing you did. Turnabout is fair play.” Or something like that.
“You are trouble,” Javi says, coming over and giving me a kiss. “And you should wear the black dress with the straps that cross in the back. It would look amazing on you.” I nip at his bottom lip and he winces.
“Easy girl.”
“That’s for going through my closet. You’d better stay out of my dresser if you know what’s good for you.” I definitely have stuff in my dresser I don’t want him messing around with and it isn’t my socks.
“Well now I’m intrigued. You shouldn’t have said that.” He gives me a wicked grin.
“You are bad. I don’t know why I ever got involved with you. Big mistake.”
“Huge mistake,” Javi says, bringing his mouth to mine again. “The hugest mistake you’ve ever seen.” I roll my eyes but kiss him anyway.
“So, where are we going?” he asks as I plug the address into my phone and then set the phone in the cupholder so he can hear the directions.
“Just follow the robot lady. Unless she tells you to drive into the river, or oncoming traffic,” I say as the robotic voice starts to tell us to turn right.
“I don’t like this,” he grumbles, but he turns right anyway.
“Well, you don’t have to. You’re the one who lit up and lost the bet.” Before, I wasn’t so sure about the whole going out to dinner thing, but now I’m definitely in favor of it.
Javi looks unbelievable. Like, off the charts sexy.
His white button down shirt has been ironed and his pants have creases in them. He’s even wearing his dress shoes like I asked him to. Per his request, I’m wearing the black dress, but since it’s cold I’ve got tights on under it and a cardigan over it. Before we left he made me flash him a view of my back and I’m sure he’ll make me do more later.
Shannon and Jett don’t exactly get the whole concept of the date that isn’t a date, but Shannon gives me a look that says she doesn’t believe me.
This isn’t a date. It feels like a date, but it isn’t.
Javi turns on the radio and I flip it to the retro station.
“You lost the bet,” I say as Depeche Mode’s “Just Can’t Get Enough” plays. Javi groans, but I start singing along over him.
“I swear, I will never smoke again if this is what I have to go through,” he yells over the music and then the GPS robot tells him to turn left. It’s chaos in the truck, but it’s our chaos.
I keep singing and Javi pretends to sing to himself.
“You love it,” I say.
“I can definitely say I don’t love it. Not at all. I’d rather forget that most of the music in the eighties happened. Scratch most of the 90s as well.” He makes a face.
“You’re so full of shit. I don’t believe you.”
The song ends and Dave Matthews Band comes on and Javi bitches even more. He can whine all he wants, but I’m not changing the radio station.
“This is payback for all those sexual comments,” I yell as I turn the music up even higher so his speakers crackle with the beat of the bass.
“Hell! I’m in heeeeeelllllll!” Javi yells and pretends to smash his face on the steering wheel.
“Oh grow up. It’s just a little music. Widen your horizons. It’s good for you.” He shakes his head and the GPS robot gives us more directions.
I enjoy the music the rest of the way to the restaurant, and Javi complains about every song. It’s hilarious and I enjoy it so much more than I should.
“Destination in 100 feet,” the cool, emotionless voice says.
Javi pulls into the parking lot of the restaurant and turns the truck off.
&
nbsp; “So, is this it?” he asks.
“Yup. What do you think? They have a mix of French and American and their chef is world-renowned or something.” He looks up at the building, which appears to be an old barn from the outside, but I’d seen the pictures of the inside, so I know how nice it is.
“Shall we?” I say. I’m not sure if he’s going to open my door, so I open it myself as he hops out.
“I would have gotten that for you.” I shrug as he comes over to my side and shuts the truck door for me.
“I didn’t know if we were doing that. You know, since this isn’t a date.”
We should probably write some rules down or something. Shannon told me about her and Jett’s rules for when they “fake dated” and it doesn’t sound like a terrible idea.
Javi opens the door of the restaurant for me, and I go to the podium where a woman in a gorgeous dress and slicked back hair is waiting.
“Do you have a reservation?” she says after greeting us with a smile.
“Yes, it’s under Cruz,” I answer. I gave Javier’s last name when I called to make the reservation.
His eyebrows go up in surprise. I shrug. I don’t know why I gave his name.
The hostess finds the name on her list and grabs two menus before leading us to our table. Javier looks up at the beautiful ceiling, which is adorned with chandeliers made of old wagon wheels and twinkle lights. The floor is shiny, but clearly original with pock marks and divots everywhere. It’s not exactly flat, so I have to be careful walking with my heels.
Our table is in a secluded corner. Very romantic.
“Someone will be right with you to get your drink orders.” She gives us another smile and walks back to her station. The place is relatively quiet, which is nice. I’d picked a non-weekend night to come since I figured it would be less crowded.
“What do you think?” I ask as Javi scans the wine and spirits menu.
“It’s nice. Really nice. I feel a little out of place, you know?” I do know. I feel the same way. Like the fancy police is going to bust their way in and throw us out for being impostors.
“Yup. But I wanted to take you to a place where you couldn’t complain about the food.” I grin at him and he sticks his tongue out.
“Wine is expensive, holy shit,” he says under his breath. They have a few drink specials, but nothing that calls to me. I wonder if I can request something. Sometimes when it’s slow in the winter at the bar, I create my own drinks with whatever’s left over at the end of the night.
“It can be. What are you going to get?”
“Whatever’s on tap,” he says. Actually, a beer sounds good right now. Our waitress comes over and tells us about the specials and then asks what we want to drink. I don’t know what half the food items she lists actually are, but I nod like I do. Javi probably does, so I can just ask him after she leaves. He orders a light beer and I get the same.
“Okay, so explain what all this stuff is,” I whisper behind my menu after she leaves.
Javi chuckles and goes down the menu, pronouncing the French items so perfectly I want to drag him to the bathroom and have my way with him.
“Why are you staring at me?” he says. Shit, I’ve been staring at him.
“Um, because you were talking. It’s polite to look at someone when they’re speaking. I’m giving you my full attention.” I set my menu down and prop my chin on my hands.
“No, you were staring at me with that look.” He rests his arms on the table and leans forward.
“What look?”
“You know.” He raises and lowers his eyebrows.
“Oh, please. I was looking at you because you were talking.” I try to play it off like I wasn’t staring at him like that.
“Say whatever you want, but you were looking at me like you wanted to forget all about dinner, pull me out back and go straight to dessert.” The thought crossed my mind, but I would never do something like that.
“Whatever, Javi. I think you’re imagining things.” I pick up my menu and hide my face behind it.
“Oh, I wasn’t imagining anything.”
No, he wasn’t.
I slip my shoe off and start dragging my foot up his pants leg. I can make this meal very uncomfortable for him if that’s what he wants.
Javi’s leg bangs against the table and he coughs. I slowly lower my menu and find him glaring at me.
“Evil. You are pure evil.”
“You love it.” He gets a serious look on his face, but it’s gone in an instant. I remove my foot and slip my shoe back on. No one could see what I was doing since the tablecloths go all the way to the floor.
The waitress comes back with our beers and asks if we need some more time. I start to say yes, but then Javi speaks over me.
“No, we’re ready to order.” We are? I give him a look, but he just puts his hand up like “I got this.” He orders a bunch of stuff, including an appetizer and entrée for me. And then hands the menu to the waitress. She takes mine and I give Javi a look.
“I thought this wasn’t a date. Usually the guy orders for the girl when it’s a date. But this isn’t a date. I could have figured out what I wanted.”
He shrugs one shoulder and now I’m picturing dragging him out to the Dumpster and beating him senseless.
“Sure, but I’ve been feeding you for a few weeks now. I know what you like and I know how much you love hearing me speak French. So there you go.” Both of those things are true, but that doesn’t mean I want him to order for me.
“Okay, for the next dinner, I get to order for myself. And you don’t have to open the truck door for me. How’s that?”
He nods.
“Seems fair. Or, I could open the truck door for you, and I can order for you.”
“That’s the exact opposite of what I just said.”
“Is it?” He acts like he’s thinking about it.
“Shut up, you know it is. I can order for myself, Javi.”
“I know you can. I have no doubt in my mind that you can. But this is another one of those things I like to do.” Ugh, here we go again.
“This isn’t a bed, Javi.” I sip my beer. It’s perfectly cold and has just the right amount of foam. Their bartender really knows what they’re doing.
“You’re right. This is just ordering dinner. That’s all.”
“You’re not my boyfriend,” I say, feeling like a broken record. I can’t remember how many times I’ve said that. But it bears repeating.
“I know,” he says and he looks down into his beer glass. He seems disappointed this time when I say it.
“I think we should maybe make some rules for when we go out like this. You know, like Shannon and Jett had when they were together-but-not-together.” He snorts.
“Yeah and look how well those rules worked out for them.” He grins. Well, I didn’t mean it to sound like that.
“Javi.”
“Okay, okay. Should we maybe write these down? So we can remember them?” Javi has a fantastic memory. I know this for a fact, but it might be good to have something to refer to when he inevitably breaks whatever rules we’re about to make. Because he will.
I pull out my phone and open an app that looks like a notepad so I can make a list.
“Okay, what’s the first rule?” Javi asks.
“How about ‘everyone opens their own car/truck doors’?”
Javi makes a sound of disapproval, but says “Fine.”
“Second rule, Javi gets to order,” he says. I kick at his leg under the table, but miss.
“This is all about give and take, Haze.”
“Fine,” I say and add it to the list. Javi wants to make the third rule about sex. Figures.
“Sex is not required but much appreciated,” he says with a grin as he sips his beer. Where the hell is our food? It feels like we ordered it ages ago.
“I guess I can live with that,” I say and add it to the list. “Any other rules you want to make about sex?”
�
��Too many to list.”
“Moving on,” I say to stop him from making this list hundreds of items long.
“What about paying? I mean, since you lost the bet you have to pay and next time you’ll have to pay, but what about the other times?”
Javi drains his beer and sets the glass down.
“Other times?”
“Well, I mean, if there are other times. You know. Potentially.” Great, now I’m talking about the future. That should be one of the rules. No future talk.
“I’m happy to pay any and all times we go out together. Unless you want to go Dutch.” That could get expensive, but I don’t want to seem like a mooch, so I write that any other time we go out that isn’t bet related, we’ll split the costs. I thought Javi would fight me on that one, but he lets it go.
Our appetizers arrive and it turns out to be goat cheese mixed with herbs, rolled into a ball with little dipping sauces.
“See? I told you to let me order for you,” Javi says as I take a bite of one of the little cheese balls and nearly pass out.
“I hate that I love this,” I say, my mouth full.
“I love that you hate that you love it.” I give him a look and grab another cheese ball before he can eat them all. I end up eating nearly all of them. I can’t help it. They’re small and delicious and Javi doesn’t move fast enough to grab them.
“I win,” I say, nibbling on the last one.
“Because I let you,” he says with a satisfied smirk.
“Shut up. I still win.”
I wipe my mouth and hope I don’t look too weird gobbling up the delicious cheese. There aren’t a whole lot of people sitting near us, so I’m probably safe.
Our entrees come next and it’s Boeuf Bourguignon. Of course. I’ve never had it, but it sounds good. There’s also a salad of various greens and lots of bread. It’s so much food that I don’t think I’ll be able to finish it all.
“This looks really good,” I say. “For this once, you did good, Javier. But you better not order snails or something next time. I don’t care how much of a delicacy they are. I’m not eating snails.” I shudder at the thought.
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