Blurred Truth (The Blurred Series Book 2) (5 page)

“She’s kinda shy,” I tell Calli with a chuckle, trying to ease Natty’s tension. I think it works, if only slightly.

“Sorry, hi, it’s really nice to meet you, too. You have a lovely place here. I tried your sandwiches. They’re amazing.” She seems to cut herself off, like she feels she’s said too much.

I could listen to her all day long.

“Natalie’s looking for a new job, so I mentioned you were in need of some help around here,” I say brightly.

“And why am I in need of some help around here, Ryan? Hmm? Perhaps it is because you break the heart of my best girl and she cannot stand to see your handsome face around here any longer,” Calli says, playfully pinching my cheek, then turning to Natty she says, “Honestly, Natalie, I don’t know what to do with these boys anymore. They are too good looking for their own good, or the good of my café.”

Fuck
.

Way to throw me under the bus, Callista.

Sure, she doesn’t know how much I want Natalie to see me as someone she can trust, but
damn
!

I know exactly who she’s referring to; Anna. The girl I was spending time with before Tina. I was totally up-front with her from the beginning, but she went and got feelings for me and became...clingy. I had to break it off before I really hurt her, no matter how good she was in bed.

Turns out I was too late, and now Calli needs a replacement, which actually works in Natalie’s favor.

I guess every cloud really does have a silver lining.

I do feel bad about it though, regardless of what I told Anna in the beginning. I just couldn’t be what she wanted me to be. Not for her, anyway.

I think I could be that for Natalie, though. I could be anything Natalie wanted me to be. Do anything Natalie wanted me to do. If she’d only ask.

I’m just scared that she’ll never ask.

“So, you have experience in serving of some kind, Natalie?” Calli asks, effectively breaking my ever-darkening thought process.

“Um...not exactly...I-” Natalie’s body goes tense beside me as she struggles for what she thinks will be an acceptable answer for her prospective employer.

“Baking, perhaps?” Calli raises a curious eyebrow.

“Well, no, but-”

Help her!

“Natalie’s a fast learner, makes a mean sandwich, and she won’t let you down, Calli,” I say with conviction. She better give her the job, or I’m boycotting the place and taking Calli off the Christmas card list. Not that I have a list, but you get the picture.

“Okay, I’ll take a chance, because this guy seems so sure you’ll be a good fit, and I think we will be very good friends, you and I. Be here at 6:30am tomorrow morning for your first shift. The only uniform is our branded apron, but please wear comfortable shoes. I have made the mistake of wearing heels in here, and it is no good at all,” Calli says with a big smile.

She gives me a conspiratorial look before returning to her task behind the counter, and I realize then that she was going to give Natty the job all along.

She set me up. She wanted me to come to Natalie’s rescue, even if only in that small way. So that Natalie would see me as
that
guy.

Now I’m confused. Is Calli just trying to set me up with someone like Natty so I’ll finally settle down, or has she known about my feelings for Natalie even longer than I have?

“Thank you so much, Ryan. I can’t believe you got me that job,” Natalie says, as she practically jumps into my arms on the sidewalk outside the café.

The sudden action stuns a laugh from me, and as soon as my senses return, I’m hugging her back; inhaling deeply and savoring the fruity scent of her hair.

“I didn’t do anything, Natty. Calli obviously liked you instantly, and why wouldn’t she?” 

My statement causes her to pull back, and I immediately curse myself for opening my mouth. I should have just held onto her a little longer. I don’t know when I’ll get another chance.

But then she’s looking into my eyes like she’s trying to see through to my soul.

I wonder if she’ll find it?

Mesmerized by the pools of her big, blue eyes, I’m shocked at the sudden loss when she pulls out of my arms and averts her gaze to the pavement, like she’s nervous or embarrassed, or both.

Why is she pulling away from me now? I’ve never wanted to read someone’s mind as much as I want to read Natalie Connor’s.

Then I realize that she might be just as confused by her own thoughts as I am by her actions, and it releases some of the tension in my veins, replacing it with something else. Something like empathy.

How do I reassure her that she can be herself with me? How do I show her there's no arbitrary line she needs to stay behind?

“Um, so...I told Nate I’d cook dinner tonight. I need to go to the store for the ingredients, so I guess I’ll see you back at the apartment. Thanks, again.”

With that, she leaves me staring after her down the street. She doesn’t look back until she’s about to turn the corner, and when she does, I’m still staring; captivated by her and how her leaving makes me feel.

Like I want to run after her.

I don’t run after her. I go back to the apartment and log on to the chat room, hoping she’ll open up to the other version of me, even if she won’t open up to the one right in front of her.

When I hear the front door, I quickly jump back in front of my computer, having been lying on my bed analyzing this afternoon’s events and coming up empty handed.

I don’t know if she’ll go online, but I can hope.

BabyDove94 is online.

I don’t waste any time, jumping straight in with my apology for what happened the night prior. I don’t want her to give it a second thought, and I definitely don’t want her feeling bad about it.

OffLand18 says: I’m so glad you’re here. I thought I’d scared you off for good. I’m sorry. Please forgive me?

BabyDove94 says: What? No! I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have left like that. I should have just stayed and talked to you about it. You always have a way of making me feel better. Forgive me?

OffLand18 says: There’s absolutely nothing to forgive, baby. All I want is for us to be good. Are we?

BabyDove94 says: Better than good :)

OffLand18 says: Awesome :) So how has your day been?

BabyDove94 says: It’s been...really pretty awesome, actually. I got a job at the café next door. It turns out that Ryan and my brother know the owner, so Ryan helped me. He was really nice about it, which surprised me. I don’t think I would have had the nerve to do it without him.

Her confession that she couldn’t have done it without me isn’t a surprise. I already know how little faith she has in herself, but it upsets me none-the-less. I need to make her see she’s good enough. She can do anything. She doesn’t need me, or anyone else.

Her surprise that I would help her; that stings a little. But it’s to be expected, I guess. I made my bed when I was a kid, and now I have to lie in it as an adult. I can only do my best to change her mind.

OffLand18 says: That’s amazing, baby. I’m really proud of you for going after what you wanted. I know it must have been hard for you, but I know you can do anything you set your mind to. I’m glad Ryan was there to help and that you’re getting along with him.

Crap! I just said my name. She’s never mentioned
my
name in conversation before, so
Land
shouldn’t know it. This could be what tips her off, causing all the pieces to slot together in her mind. How could I be so stupid?

But when she doesn’t say anything about it after my slip-up, my heart begins to slow back down to a normal pace, realizing she hasn’t caught my mistake.

After a few more messages back and forth, she tells me she needs to get started on making dinner, and a thrill runs through me.

Something else I can help her with.

But I don’t want to smother her.

Will she just get sick of me if I keep showing up and offering my assistance?

I’ll take my chances. I want to be near her all the damn time, and I don’t have the strength to keep myself away when I know she’s right down the hall.

I reach the kitchen before Natalie, and see that the groceries she bought are still in paper bags on the countertop, so I busy myself unpacking them for her.

When she finally arrives in the kitchen, I can’t help but smile at the surprised look on her pretty face.

“Hey, Natty, I thought I’d get everything set out for you. Do you need some help with making dinner?”

“Thanks. I can handle it, but if you really want to, you can start chopping the onions for me?” she says as I unpack the last of the ingredients.

Crap. Now’s probably the time I should say I have a really bad reaction to freshly chopped onions, but fuck that. I’m a man, I can take it.

“Sure thing. I’m awesome at chopping shit,” I say with bravado.

I’ll show those onions who’s boss.

Natalie laughs as she rounds the breakfast bar to join me, which makes me smile big, and I almost forget the pain to come.

We start prepping the food, side-by-side, and I tentatively start peeling the vegetable that may completely emasculate me in about two minutes, flat.

“So, are you feeling okay about your first day tomorrow?” I ask with genuine curiosity and concern. Unfortunately, I can’t go with her and hold her hand for the entire day tomorrow, as much as I’d like to.

She gives a big sigh before answering, “I guess. I mean, I’ve been trying not to think about it too much. It’s the first real job I’ve ever had. It’s hard not to feel anxious about it. I’m not great with social situations and I’m worried I’ll mess up everything from working the coffee machine to spilling food all over customers’ laps.
Oh, God
...it’s going to be a disaster,” she stops what she’s doing and just stares straight ahead, like she’s seeing the disastrous events unfold in front of her as a vision of the future.

“Hey,” I say, gently grabbing her by the shoulders and turning her to face me. “You’re going to do great. The customers will adore you, and you’ll make friends with Calli and the other girls, instantly. Stop. Worrying.” I give her shoulders a playful shake as I say the last, then turn back to the task at hand.

“Thanks, Ryan. Whilst we’re on the subject, can we not mention this to Nate tonight? I don’t want him to worry, and I want to be sure I can really do this before I let him know.”

“Okay. But you know he’ll find out sooner rather than later, right? He goes to Calli’s practically every day, and the girls talk.”

The girls definitely talk. I’m pretty sure Calli and Tara know things about my anatomy I never thought they would...or should, thanks to Anna. Tara’s definitely been giving me some...looks.

So
not going there.

“I know. Maybe we can keep him out of there just for one day? I just need a day,” Natalie pleads.

The onions are really starting to take effect now. Jesus, it stings. It stings a whole lot.

So much for showing the evil, inanimate vegetable who’s boss.

“Sure we can. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it, Natty.” I glance at her, trying to give a conspiratorial wink, but the tears are streaming down my face like a leaky faucet.

Real manly.

Natalie bursts into laughter, and the sound almost makes the pain worth it.

Almost.

“What’s so funny?” I say with a sniffle, trying my damnedest to wipe my eyes with my un-onion-contaminated forearm.

“Not used to chopping onions, Ry?” she asks, still laughing.

I’m not going to tell her I knew I’d have a severe reaction. It’ll just make her feel bad, and that’s the opposite of what I want.

“I don’t think I can see the onions anymore...or the knife, which is concerning.”

“Oh, my God, just stop,” she says, still laughing softly, grabbing my wrists.

“God, it hurts like a bitch, Nat. Onions are evil.”

“Come with me,” she says, leading me away from the offending item and over to the small window off the kitchen, opening it wide for me to lean out of.

“Just take a few deep breaths until your eyes stop stinging. I’ll finish chopping the onions while you pull yourself together.”

Totally emasculated by onions. Fantastic.

By the time my eyes have cleared enough to return to assisting Natalie, she’s already chopped all the veg and started making her sauce.

“I’m sorry I’m such a wimp, Natty. I guess I’m not so awesome at chopping shit,” I confess, bumping her hip with mine. “What else can I help with?”

“Um...can you start browning the ground beef for me? Just put it in the pan with some olive oil.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m awesome at cooking shit,” I say, mocking myself for my earlier statement about chopping. She laughs, again, and I hope I can keep causing that sweet sound.

We make small-talk as we finish preparing the lasagna. I help her layer the ingredients in the baking dish, before she puts it in the oven.

“That’s a wrap. Should be done baking by the time Nate gets home,” she says, grabbing her phone, probably to text Nate, and I take a seat on the counter across from her.

“Come here, Natty,” I say softly as she puts down the phone.

She looks confused, but doesn’t hesitate.

When she reaches me, I grasp her arms, gently maneuvering her to stand between my legs.

I slowly brush my hands up and down her arms, and instantly feel the goosebumps that my touch elicits from her body.

When she looks up into my eyes, I ask, “Are you feeling better now?” I have to know. I need it, like I need air to breathe.

“What do you mean?” she almost whispers, looking into my eyes.

She knows what I mean. Maybe she just doesn’t want to talk about it. Well, that’s tough, because I do; and I’m selfish, so I’ll continue.

“You know what I mean, Natty. You had a rough night.”

“Yeah, I’m fine now.”

She’s not.

I can tell she’s lying by the way she averts her eyes. She can’t look at me directly whilst saying something that isn’t true.

Unwilling to let her hide behind the facade she’s trying to build around herself, I make her look at me; hooking her chin with a gentle touch of my fingers. She doesn’t fight it, and when our eyes meet again, the sadness I see in hers makes me feel like crying.

“I’m not sure I believe you, but if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. I’m not going to push.” I want her to know that I know the truth, but I’m not a completely insensitive, intrusive asshole. I’m not going to force her to open up to me. I just hope she feels that she can, someday.

“Thank you for last night,” she whispers so quietly that it’s almost inaudible.

Something in the way she looks at me makes my heart clench and my throat constrict. I almost can’t get my next words out.

“No worries, sweetheart. If you ever need someone, you come find me,” I say as I pull her into me, hugging her warm body to my chest. “I can’t stand the thought of you crying, alone, in the dark. It fucking hurts my heart. But I know I won’t always hear you like I did last night, so I need you to promise me you won’t let it get that bad again. Promise you’ll let me know before it does.”

Her body stiffens and she confesses, “I can’t promise you that.”

“Then I guess I’m going to have to check on you every night for the foreseeable future.” I won’t let her get out of this. She doesn’t trust me enough to fully open up to me; to admit that she may want me to be there for her. She thinks I’ll make fun of her, like when we were kids.

I’ll make her see that I’m not that kid anymore. I’ll show her.

“No. You can’t do that,” she says weakly, as I begin brushing my fingertips up and down the smooth skin of her back.

“I can and I will, unless you promise to let me know if you need me.”

“Well...how about you give me your cell number, and I promise to text you if I’m having a hard time?” she says, pulling back to see the reaction on my face.

My little dove wants to compromise. That makes me give her a small smile. I can get on-board with that. It’s not exactly what I want, but close enough. It shows she’s willing to let me in, if only a little. If only via text.

Not much different to being online with Land, but at least she’ll be texting
me
, not
him
.

Him
. I’m starting to think of my alter ego as someone other than myself. Because Natalie believes he’s someone else. Now he’s my competition. Now I want her to need
this
me, not
that
me.

I realize now that I want him gone. He has the potential to ruin everything. To keep Natty from me. I can’t let that happen.

Jesus
. I’m starting to sound like a crazy person. I need to get a fucking grip.

“That might work; here,” I say, digging my phone out of my pocket and handing it to her to input the contact information, effectively ending our touching.

I need more touching. Like, all the time.

Not kissing Natalie, when she was in my arms just now, took every ounce of self-restraint that I possess.

If she lets me in her bed again - or better yet, creeps into mine - I might not have the strength to stop myself.