Read Little Miss Lovesick Online
Authors: Kitty Bucholtz
Matt shifted his position. “I haven’t finished my chocolate milk. You don’t want me to drink and drive, do you?”
I chuckled and shook my head, studying my juice bottle. I had no idea what to make of him. Fun, angry, quiet, fun. I may not be ready for this roller coaster ride. But it’d be a fun one if I were.
He leaned back on the couch again. I drank some more lemonade. He swung his knee to hit mine and I looked at him. His face was significantly closer. The little bugger. I thought he was fidgeting because he wanted to leave. He was just moving closer to me on the couch!
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“What? I’m sitting here drinking my chocolate milk.” Again with the innocent Tom Sawyer look.
I raised my eyebrows at him.
“And trying to get closer to the pretty girl I’m with?”
“Yeah, yeah, I bet you say that to all the girls.” I sat up with my elbows on my knees and gulped my lemonade. He was too close for me to think straight. Very bad. Because I needed to think about how to tell him this wasn’t going to work. I thought I was ready, but…
He imitated my position. Getting closer.
“You’re right. All one of you.” He winked at me.
I raised my eyebrows again. “You haven’t gone out to dinner with any other pretty girls?” I teased. “No breakfast dates? Lunch appointments?”
“Yes, but that’s not dating. That’s eating.”
“Riighht.” I looked at him for a moment, trying to figure him out. “Like what we’re doing,” I said slowly. “We’re eating.”
I told you this was too good to be tru
e
, murmured a Voice.
Matt’s cheeks and forehead turned a dull red. Well
,
that’
s
a good sign.
He turned his chocolate milk around in his hands. “Listen, I don’t play games. I’m not good at them and they annoy the hell out of me. If I run into someone I know and we eat together, that’s one thing. But dating is when I consciously call a girl up and invite her out. A lot.”
I was quiet for a second, trying to decide if I was going to speak my mind. Four years of being with Dirk had taught me that choosing your battles is often the better part of wisdom.
I decided to speak. “Listen, I’ve enjoyed
…
eatin
g
with you. You’ve called me twice and I’ve said yes twice, so I suppose that’s a sign I could be interested in ‘dating’ you.” I used my fingers to make air quotes. “But sometimes when we’re together and someone you know is around, you get embarrassed and act like you barely know me.”
“I told you, it’s not you. What more do you want me to say?”
We locked eyes for a moment. He was clueless. Completely freaking clueless. I huffed air through my nose and shook my head.
“Nothing. I’m not trying to get you to say anything. But here’s the thing. I’ve already been hurt more than I thought I could take. I can’t get attached to someone who doesn’t want to be seen with me. My heart just can’t take it.”
Matt appeared to think about what I said. Then he downed the rest of his chocolate milk. He carefully set the bottle on the coffee table.
I looked away, eyes closed, shaking my head almost imperceptibly at my own gullibility. I’m the stupidest person I know.
He picked up my hand and kissed the back of it. “I finished my chocolate milk, so I better go.”
I met his gaze for a second. “Sure.” I walked him to the door.
“Lock the door after I leave,” he instructed in a big-brother voice.
Oh gosh, what a good idea. Too bad I didn’t leave the door to my heart locked. How could I accuse Matt of breaking and entering when it was my fault for letting him in?
I DON’T know what it is about GT. I wish I had his way with convincing people. I’d be rich! (And h
e
wa
s
rich, so there you go.)
Apparently, neither Matt nor I came up with good enough reasons why we couldn’t go to dinner the next night because there we both were in Trattoria Stella at Grand Traverse Commons. But…we’re professionals. Business dinners are a part of life. So really, we were doing exactly what we should be doing. That was my view, anyway.
Matt, however, looked like “polite” was as far as he was willing to go. He interacted with everyone, listened, asked questions. It’s not like he was sulking about being there. But in the time I’d gotten to know him, I could feel that he wasn’t fully engaged.
Or maybe this is just his business person
a
, said a Voice.
I liked his fishing guide persona bette
r
, said Lovesick.
In any case, GT was a surprisingly gracious host. He and Mercedes chose a restaurant so far beyond my means it would’ve been embarrassing, except that I’d learned to act like I belonged at any meeting, wherever the setting. But GT didn’t act like we were someplace special. He didn’t make mention of how wonderful the food was, or urge us to order whatever we liked. He simply engaged us all in entertaining conversation. The meal seemed to be a magnificent bonus, as far as he was concerned.
While we waited for the appetizers, we chatted about business, real estate, architecture, vacationing. Matt never gave up much information about himself. Personal information, that is. I learned that he’d never been to Hawaii, but would like to go. He’d worked with GT on commercial projects in the past, and this was his first renovation. He knew a lot about architecture, construction, and real estate. (Like that was a big surprise.) But the only personal details I knew about Matt were the ones I’d learned on the fishing trip. Why did he open up then when we were just flirting, but not now that we were sort of seeing each other?
In comparison, the rest of dinner conversation was filled with the hundred or so references to how much GT and Mercedes adored each other. I (skeptically) imagined she loved his money and he loved her looks. But as the night wore on, I began to think they really might love each other in that “happily ever after” kind of way I used to dream of.
Just before the entrée was served (this was one of those three-hour-dinner type of restaurants), I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Mercedes immediately excused herself, too. I sighed inwardly, smiling outwardly. I didn’t know her well enough for the chatty girl-talk that group bathroom trips inspired. And this polite distance from Matt was taking its toll on me. (Though I told myself it had just been a long day.)
Mercedes played with her hair in the ladies room. While I dried my hands, I watched her in the mirror out of the corner of my eye. Her hair was perfect. Mine was so — unruly. I tried to add a little elegance with a curling iron tonight, but the loose curls weren’t quite hanging right. Dirk always liked me to wear it back or up. Maybe I should’ve done that.
Mercedes sighed and looked at me in the mirror. “I would kill for your hair.”
A bubble of laughter worked its way out. “Why? Yours is perfect.”
She fluffed it some more, played with a few loose strands, then looked at mine. “Yours is so curly. I always wanted curly hair. I got a perm once, but it was awful.”
“I used a curling iron tonight, actually,” I said. “And I think your hair’s beautiful.”
She pulled her lipstick out of her purse. “GT likes it this way. I don’t mind.”
“With that pseudo-Southern charm thing, you wouldn’t know if he didn’t.” My eyes jerked up to meet her surprised ones. Crap. That sounded so insulting. “I meant, maybe he’s just being nice and he’d be happy however you do your hair.”
Boy, I hoped she didn’t take that wrong. Or repeat it to GT.
Mercedes smiled a small smile that said she knew what I was thinking and she wasn’t offended. She looked back in the mirror and blotted her lips. “The pseudo-Southern charm thing catches more flies than honey.” She looked at me again and smiled. “So does the pseudo-ditzy blonde bit. That doesn’t make it dishonest.”
In that moment, I realized Mercedes was much smarter than she let on. She might truly love GT and not just his money.
Mercedes giggled in the mirror. “Isn’t it great to be treated so well by our men?” The ditzy blonde was back.
“Oh, Matt’s not my — we aren’t — we just met.”
Mercedes laughed. “Sugar, I could see the way you two were looking at each other last night. Yeah, you broke apart like teenagers caught in the act when you saw us. But remember—” She turned to face me. “We saw you first.”
I wish I could control when I blush. It would certainly help in the lying department. “No, we both happen to have GT as a client, and yesterday was a long day so we had dinner. No big deal.” I smiled politely.
“No big deal, huh? That’s what every woman says when she’s trying not to lose her heart. Denial doesn’t help, you know.”
I didn’t know what to say so I laughed. “Mercedes, just because you’re happily married doesn’t mean—”
She took my arm as we walked out of the ladies room. “Come with me.” We stopped when our table came into view. “Look at him there.”
About three seconds went by before Matt looked our way. “See? He’s trying to pretend not to notice you, but he notices everything about you. If he was so engrossed in shoptalk, he wouldn’t even see us sit down, let alone be watching for us. GT was the same way. Trust me.”
Mercedes was just like GT. She could talk you into a place where you didn’t know what to say.
She giggled in my ear. “Watch. He won’t be able to keep himself from smiling at you.”
“No, he hasn’t smiled at me all evening,” I said without thinking. Mercedes gave my hand a squeeze.
Right on cue, Matt looked our way again. As he caught me watching him, a slow smile appeared. I couldn’t help myself. Mercedes had gotten me all crazy. I smiled back.
Mercedes giggled again and pulled me forward, back to the table. It was like a signal had been given. And I mean that in all seriousness. She didn’t whisper to GT or anything, but from the moment she and I sat down, the evening became very personal.
They wove dozens of innocuous questions into the conversation. Did we like that movie? Had we read this book? Had we been to that concert? I tried to be candid, but cautious. I felt like we were being interviewed by a matchmaking service. I couldn’t tell if Matt suspected anything. But I had the odd feeling of wanting to protect him, so I tried to keep the conversation relatively superficial.
I didn’t know whether to be amused, annoyed, or encouraged that someone thought Matt and I belonged together. No, not encouraged. In my current state of mental health, I was not ready to be pushed into another relationship.
Not yet. But maybe with time I’d relax and see what happened.
I tried to glance casually at Matt during the meal to gauge his reactions. His professional demeanor was amazing. I didn’t see him blush or stumble or anything.
I wonder if he’s a good kisser…
Startled by that wayward thought, I choked on a scallop. I reached for my water while GT patted my back.
“You all right?” Matt asked.
I couldn’t look at him. I nodded and swallowed some more water. “Went down the wrong way.”
It’s not like he hasn’t kissed you, idio
t
, said a Voice
.
And now is not the time to think about it.
Not the time to think about the fact that he’s never kissed you on the lips, you mean
?
said Lovesic
k
. Kissed your cheek once, your hand several times, but never reall
y
kisse
d
you? That’s what it’s not the time to think about?
See, that proves it. That proves he’s not interested in you the way you’re interested in him. It’s the best thing in the world that you’ve decided not to pursue this anymore.
The Voices in my head were making me dizzy. Too many opinions and maybes with no conclusive evidence in any direction.
I took a mental deep breath and told myself it was perfect. I wasn’t ready for another relationship, and Matt had made it perfectly clear last night that he wasn’t looking for one either. He was making it rather clear tonight, too. So no more thinking about kissing.
I remembered what Mercedes had said about Matt watching me all evening. She and GT may be enjoying their matchmaking game, but she was just wrong. That’s all.
Dinner ended around ten and we all walked out to the parking lot. GT gave his slip to the valet and we stood and talked for another minute. Thanking GT for his hospitality, Matt and I waved as they drove away.
“That was relatively painless, wasn’t it?” I asked.
He grunted. “It could have been worse, I guess.”
Protecting his privacy or not, this guy had a bug up his ass and I wasn’t interested in taking it out. “Well, good night.” I started toward my car.
I heard him take a breath like he was going to say something, then nothing. Then, “Good night.” I didn’t turn around to acknowledge it.
I walked to a far corner of the parking lot, the only place I could find a space when I pulled in. By the time I unlocked the door and got in, I felt fifty years older. Heartbreak with a capital “H” had been traumatic. But even with a little “h” it was exhausting.
You’re just tired. Get some sleep and everything will be better tomorrow.
Remembe
r
, said another Voice
,
you chose to be happy, grateful, at peace. Keep it up, girlfriend. Count your many blessings.
I put on my seatbelt and started the car. That is
I
trie
d
to start the car. Several times. Nothing but a click. I let my forehead fall to the steering wheel. Just my luck.
My eyes swelled with tears. This time I didn’t do any deep breathing exercises to keep them from falling. No positive thinking was going to undo the last few horrible days. Maybe if I let myself cry for a minute, all the pain would seep out and I could start over. I let the tears fall. I pretended they were all the negative feelings and hard times and pushed them out of my head. Then there would be room for happiness and peace again. It didn’t take long before the crying stopped. I did feel a modicum of relief.
I jumped when I heard a knock on my window.
I glanced over. Matt.
I tried to hide the evidence of my tears and hit the button to roll down the window. Quickly realizing the futility wit
h
electric window
s
, I opened the door.
“You okay?” He sounded worried.
I turned away toward the dark passenger seat and wiped my face as unobtrusively as I could. “Yeah, just uh…” I gestured at the steering wheel.
“Dead battery?” Matt asked.
“Yeah.” I sighed. “I’ll call triple A.”
“Come on, I’ll take you home.” Matt reached inside the car and took my hand.
I pulled it away. “It’s okay. The auto club will take care of it.”
“Come on,” Matt urged. “It’s late. You can come back for it in the morning.”
It was tempting. To have just one opportunity to walk away from my trouble. You never get to do that in real life. It would be a pain in the butt to get back here tomorrow and still have to go through calling AAA and waiting in the car. But tonight, I could walk away.
Tonight there’s potential for more trouble if you go home with hi
m
, said a Voice.
Matt reached in and took my hand firmly in his, his face close to my ear. “When was the last time you let yourself be rescued?”
My eyes watered again even as I tried to smile a little. Don’t cry. Make a joke. “I seem to remember a river being involved.”
As Matt’s truck pulled into a parking space near my apartment, I wondered briefly if Dirk would be skulking in the shadows again. I really, truly, honestly couldn’t deal with that tonight.
Matt turned off the engine. “I’ll pick you up at 7:30 and take you back to your car. If you call triple A before you leave, you might only have to wait a few minutes.”
“Thanks, but you don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.”
“No, I’m the one who told you to leave it. It’s not that far out of the way.” Matt looked around the parking lot as we walked up my stairs. Neither one of us mentioned why.
I pulled out my keys and unlocked the door. “Thank you for driving me home.” My eyes met his and dropped away. “I’ll call a cab tomorrow to go get my car. Thank you anyway.”
Matt watched me without saying anything. I opened the door and turned on the living room light. I didn’t want to close the door in his face. But if he didn’t say “Good night,” I’d be forced to.
“Good night,” I said and started to close the door.
Before I realized he’d moved, he stepped across the threshold, cupped my face in his rough hands, and pressed his lips to mine. He was soft and warm and hard all at once. I inhaled sharply in surprise. Then, without thinking, I leaned into the kiss. All the frustration I’d felt the last few days poured out in a burst of passion. I tasted my tears on his lips and hoped he wouldn’t notice.