Complicated (6 page)

“You work too much,” Katy says. “Take care.”
 

“You too. Thanks. This was fun.”
 

I grab my purse, zip up my thin hoodie, and head out the door.
 

I get the on the bus. It’s mostly empty. I find a seat by a window and dig my phone out of pocket to play a game. Someone bangs on the side of the bus, which always irritates me, but only because I never have the nerve to do it. I’m the person who will stand and watch the bus pull away when I’m nearly there just to avoid the embarrassment of running for it and missing it.
 

The bus jerks and stops and the doors reopen.
 

Someone sits down next to me. I turn to glare at whoever it is, because sitting next to a stranger on an empty bus should be a crime, but it’s David. He smiles sheepishly. “Hey,” he says.

“What are you doing?”

“Riding the bus.”
 

“Is there a memo going around to guys that stalking woman is sexy or something?” I’m teasing but David frowns and scratches his chin.

“You left without saying goodbye,” he finally says.
 

“Just heading home early. It’s not a big deal.”
 

“It is to me.”
 

He isn’t looking at me with pure lust. I’ve seen
that
look plenty of times and this is different. His eyes are serious, his lips parted slightly. “Why?”
 

“Because I like you.” He bumps my shoulder with his, playful. Flirting. “And I hate to see you miss out on the fun.”

“So you decided to follow me home.”
 

“I suppose hopping on a public bus is not really a grand romantic gesture.” He puts his arm around my shoulders. “I’m not exactly good at this stuff.”
 

The bus pulls onto the freeway and picks up speed while the skyline of Seattle passes by. In the fading light, the buildings are black and green and it’s easy to see why it’s called the Emerald City. Although I think it was named after the trees long before the glass skyscrapers were erected.
 

“What exactly do you want from me, David?”
 

The arm around me tightens. “Nothing.”
 

When the bus reaches my stop, about six blocks from my apartment building, David and I both get off and start walking. We pass several a cab idling in front of a bar. “You should take that.”
 

“I’d rather stay with you.”
 

“We agreed my apartment wasn’t really an ideal hook up spot.” The walls are like paper and when I close my bedroom door, Ariel the cat scratches at it and whines until I let her in, making any sort of tryst awkward.

David does that half-eye roll thing of his and takes my hand, jerking me to a stop. “That’s not what I mean.” He drops my hand and scratches the back of his neck.
 

I wait, watching him. He starts to speak a few times and finally he laughs.
 

“I don’t want you to date other people.” He touches my shoulder. Warmth radiates through me. “I’ve been thinking about it and I really like you. So…” he trails off and gives me a hopeful look.

“So what?” I breath.
 

“Do I really have to spell it out?”

“Yes.”
 

“I want us to be together. I thought that was what you wanted to talk about but then you went out with someone else.”
 

I kiss him in reply. When our mouths part, I’m panting and my heart is racing.
 

“I take it that’s a yes,” he says.

“I guess I can give you a chance.”
 

He puts his arm around my waist.

My apartment is miraculously empty. Every surface, including the bookshelves and the television, is draped in fabric but Trish is out. I take David into my room and keep the door open a single inch to appease the cat.
 

“We can’t have sex in here,” I tell him. He feigns a frown. “Trish could be home any second.” He kisses my neck, lips softly moving over the tender skin. “Stop that,” I whisper. He laughs, a rich and delighted sound.
 

“I’m trying but you’re hard to resist.”
 

I throw a stuffed horse at him. It hits him in the chest and bounces to the floor. “Great, ten minutes into a real relationship and we’re already fighting.”
 

“You’re the one who followed me home. You know my place is microscopic.”
 

Our lips meet again and this time the kiss is long and slow. When I pull away, I’m tingling all over. “I should get to bed.” I wish I hadn’t agreed to work. The last thing I want to do right now is sleep. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
 

David gestures at the bed. “Is it cool if I crash here?”
 

“David.”

“Just to sleep.” He puts his hands up. “I promise.”
 

When I wake up to my alarm on my phone at the ungodly hour of four o’clock, it takes me a moment to remember why someone’s arm is wrapped around me. I roll over. David looks at me through hooded lashes. “What time is it?”
 

“Stupid o’clock,” I say. “I have to go to work, remember?”
 

“Right.” He rolls over, releasing me from his arms. It’s all I can do to get out of bed instead of snuggling back against him. I lean over and kiss him lightly.

“Go back to sleep.”
 

I dress in the bathroom to avoid turning on my bedroom light. I leave as quietly as I can. “Boyfriend,” I think, with a small squeal. It’s surreal to think it, to have him in my bed.
 

When my shift at Coffee Harbor is over, I rush out the door and head home. I don’t know why I expect David to still be there but I’m disappointed when he’s not. I check my phone and there’s no text either.
 

I panic. What if he was drunk? He didn’t seem drunk but maybe last night was just a fluke.
 

Trish is at her sewing machine on the kitchen table cursing about crinoline. “It’s like not even fabric. How the hell am I supposed to sew it?”
 

“Magic?” I suggest. She gives a look to indicate it’s not the time for jokes. Her usually perfect hair is in a messy bun and she has dark circles under her eyes. “You’ll get it to work.”
 

“I’d better.” She takes a seam ripper and starts tearing thread from a piece she messed up. “By the way, that hot guy who stayed over left you a note.”
 

“What? Where?”
 

“Counter.”
 

On the counter under a used coffee mug is a sheet of paper from our magnetic fridge notepad. “Hannah - Had to run. See you tonight. Be ready at 6. - David.”
 

I put on jeans and a t-shirt but Trish, who apparently decided my fashion crisis was more important than hers, shoves a blue peasant top at me. I use her magic hair stuff to smooth my frizz and put on make up.
 

David arrives at six on the dot and I rush downstairs. He grins at me.
 

“You are gorgeous.”
 

“So do you.” He’s wearing jeans and a button up shirt. His face is freshly shaved. He kisses me and the smoothness of his skin against mine is nice.

“Where to?” I ask.

“I’m not sure. I tried to make reservations at this place Katy recommended but they’re closed for renovations.” He gives me an apologetic look. “The other two places I tried were booked.”
 

“That’s okay. Any place is fine.”

“It’s not though. This is our first real date and I screwed it up. I should have planned ahead, but I wasn’t sure—And then I didn’t know if you wanted—“ He stops and shrugs. “I’m not really good at this part.”
 

“David, there’s nothing to be good or bad at.” I take his hand. “Let’s make a deal, okay? No making a big deal out of this. We’re exactly like we were before, except monogamous.”

“Monogamous?” he asks, pretending to be shocked. I smack him in the shoulder. He laughs.
 

“Seriously. No putting pressure on this. This is the fun part, okay? How about we go to that place with the wood fired pizza and pool tables? Pete’s?”
 

“Are you sure? That’s not very romantic.”
 

“I’m sure.” I kiss him and pull him close. He smells like soap and aftershave. “I just want to be with you, like before. Except, you know.”
 

“Actually together.”
 

“Right.”
 

“Okay.” He puts his arm around my waist and I put mine around his.
 

“Okay,” I say.
 

And everything is.
 

About the Author

Dana Tyler is a romantic who’s worked a dozen jobs, including a stint as a barista. She currently lives in the Pacific Northwest with her best friend. In her spare time, she likes to bake cookies, watch the skies for UFOs, and try to hunt down the mysterious Bigfoot (often with the aforementioned cookies).
 

You can contact Dana on Twitter
@DanaTylerBooks
or email her at
[email protected]
. For more information about Dana and her upcoming releases, visit
danatyler.wordpress.com
 

This novella, like all of my writing, didn’t happen in a vacuum. I owe so much thanks to so many people. Thanks to my beta readers on Team Octopus. Your input was invaluable. Thanks to my roommate for letting me skip the dishes so I could write. And thanks to everyone who’s supported me in my writing ambitions. It means the world.
 

Thanks especially to my dad, who never stopped believing in my ability to do what I love.
 

And thanks to everyone who bought, borrowed, or otherwise read this novella. I hope you enjoyed it.