this guy is no Prince Charming. He’s more like the character in the dark cloak, the one who turns out to be a villain.
We order, and I sit across from him wondering what to say. It occurs to me that I know so little about him. The guy doesn’t even have a Facebook account. I know because I checked once, years ago. Do I even want to know more? Where do I begin? I can translate my thoughts into words with a keyboard, but when it comes to verbal communication I get tongue-tied so easily. Especially when I’m nervous.
I’m not the same girl I once was. Hasn’t he noticed?
“So, Melanie.” He eyes me as he takes a sip of the coffee the waitress just brought him. “What have you been doing with yourself since high school? Besides writing, I mean. I’m assuming you aren’t married.”
“Of course I’m not married.” I frown into my orange juice. Does he think last night would have happened if I were? I would point that out, but I’d rather not bring up the subject of last night. It’s too humiliating. “I’ve never been married.”
“Yeah, that’s what Leah said. I was just making sure.”
“You’re not, are you?” Suddenly, horribly, I realize that if Leah could stretch the truth about the house, she may have been less than honest about this, too.
“Nope. No wife. No girlfriend, either.”
“Oh.” Whew . I noticed he wasn’t wearing a ring, but you can’t always judge by that. “I didn’t think so, but…good to know. I’d hate to have to kill your sister. Twice.”
“She told you I was single?”
“She did mention once that you were a bachelor, yes.”
“And yet somehow my name never came up?” He sounds skeptical. I guess I can’t blame him for that.
“I’m not sure you’re aware of this, but your sister typically refers to you as Butthead.”
His laughter is rich and deep. “That’s probably the nicest thing the little brat ever called me. So you two used to work together?”
“For about six months. I haven’t really known her all that long.”
“I see. And what about college? Did you wind up going to Flagler?”
“How’d you know about that?”
“Word gets around.” He adds a packet of sugar to his coffee and stirs it. “I just remember someone telling me that’s where you were planning to go.”
“I went,” I tell him evasively. “For a while.”
“You transferred?”
“No. I…I dropped out my first year there.”
He gives me a quizzical look. “Really? And did you ever finish your studies?”
I shake my head.
“Incredible.”
“What is?”
“It’s just…strange the way things turn out.” He smiles poignantly. “Ten years ago I never would have pictured this.”
“Pictured what?”
“Our roles reversed. The honors student as the dropout, and the class idiot going on to earn a college degree.” His perceptive eyes gauge my reaction.
“I never called you an idiot,” I mumble.
He raises an eyebrow. “Melanie.”
“Well, I didn’t mean it. Not really.”
“Then why did you say it?”
Lifting my hands, I shrug helplessly. “I don’t know. Because I was just a kid?”
He laughs softly. “Fair enough. And for what it’s worth, I probably deserved every insult you gave me. So how about we call it even? We’re civilized adults here. What do you say? Truce?”
“If this is your underhanded way of trying to weasel yourself into my bed, I’ll just go ahead and warn you up front that it isn’t going to work.” I’m perfectly willing to accept a truce, but he needs to know that it doesn’t mean there will be an encore performance of last night. I don’t think. Oh God, he’s so handsome. It’s hard to look at him without remembering what we were doing a mere twelve hours ago.
“Technically, sweetheart, you’re the one who’s sleeping in my bed,” he reminds me in a silken voice.
Wetting my lips nervously, I look everywhere except directly at him. “For your information, I picked that room because I liked the
We order, and I sit across from him wondering what to say. It occurs to me that I know so little about him. The guy doesn’t even have a Facebook account. I know because I checked once, years ago. Do I even want to know more? Where do I begin? I can translate my thoughts into words with a keyboard, but when it comes to verbal communication I get tongue-tied so easily. Especially when I’m nervous.
I’m not the same girl I once was. Hasn’t he noticed?
“So, Melanie.” He eyes me as he takes a sip of the coffee the waitress just brought him. “What have you been doing with yourself since high school? Besides writing, I mean. I’m assuming you aren’t married.”
“Of course I’m not married.” I frown into my orange juice. Does he think last night would have happened if I were? I would point that out, but I’d rather not bring up the subject of last night. It’s too humiliating. “I’ve never been married.”
“Yeah, that’s what Leah said. I was just making sure.”
“You’re not, are you?” Suddenly, horribly, I realize that if Leah could stretch the truth about the house, she may have been less than honest about this, too.
“Nope. No wife. No girlfriend, either.”
“Oh.” Whew . I noticed he wasn’t wearing a ring, but you can’t always judge by that. “I didn’t think so, but…good to know. I’d hate to have to kill your sister. Twice.”
“She told you I was single?”
“She did mention once that you were a bachelor, yes.”
“And yet somehow my name never came up?” He sounds skeptical. I guess I can’t blame him for that.
“I’m not sure you’re aware of this, but your sister typically refers to you as Butthead.”
His laughter is rich and deep. “That’s probably the nicest thing the little brat ever called me. So you two used to work together?”
“For about six months. I haven’t really known her all that long.”
“I see. And what about college? Did you wind up going to Flagler?”
“How’d you know about that?”
“Word gets around.” He adds a packet of sugar to his coffee and stirs it. “I just remember someone telling me that’s where you were planning to go.”
“I went,” I tell him evasively. “For a while.”
“You transferred?”
“No. I…I dropped out my first year there.”
He gives me a quizzical look. “Really? And did you ever finish your studies?”
I shake my head.
“Incredible.”
“What is?”
“It’s just…strange the way things turn out.” He smiles poignantly. “Ten years ago I never would have pictured this.”
“Pictured what?”
“Our roles reversed. The honors student as the dropout, and the class idiot going on to earn a college degree.” His perceptive eyes gauge my reaction.
“I never called you an idiot,” I mumble.
He raises an eyebrow. “Melanie.”
“Well, I didn’t mean it. Not really.”
“Then why did you say it?”
Lifting my hands, I shrug helplessly. “I don’t know. Because I was just a kid?”
He laughs softly. “Fair enough. And for what it’s worth, I probably deserved every insult you gave me. So how about we call it even? We’re civilized adults here. What do you say? Truce?”
“If this is your underhanded way of trying to weasel yourself into my bed, I’ll just go ahead and warn you up front that it isn’t going to work.” I’m perfectly willing to accept a truce, but he needs to know that it doesn’t mean there will be an encore performance of last night. I don’t think. Oh God, he’s so handsome. It’s hard to look at him without remembering what we were doing a mere twelve hours ago.
“Technically, sweetheart, you’re the one who’s sleeping in my bed,” he reminds me in a silken voice.
Wetting my lips nervously, I look everywhere except directly at him. “For your information, I picked that room because I liked the
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