Match Me (11 page)
Authors: Liz Appel
“So you figure something out,” he said. “Look, I know you're freaked out. About a lot of stuff. Graduating. Getting a job. And now this. I get it.”
But he didn't. Because not once, in everything he'd said, had he mentioned wanting to help. Offering to help.
I traced my finger around the rim of my glass. I knew what I was going to ask him. And I hated myself for even contemplating it. And I hated my parents for putting me in the position to need to do so. But I felt trapped and he was right about one thing. I was freaking out and I felt alone.
“What do you think about me maybe staying with you?”
The bottle arrested halfway to his mouth. “What?”
“Me. Staying with you.” I swallowed. “Until I find a place.”
“At my house?”
“No. In your garage. I can sleep in the Camaro.”
“Well, the seats aren’t totally fixed yet, so…”
“Jesus. Not in your garage. Yes. With you.”
He took a deep breath. “Uh. Sure.”
“You don't sound too sure.”
He hesitated. “It just sounds...I dunno. It sounds like a big step. Moving in together.”
I flinched. His words stung. But I was desperate.
“Not moving in,” I said. “Not permanently, anyway. Just for a week or two. Until I find a place to live.”
“Sure. That would be OK.” He scratched his head and took a long swallow of his beer. “So, like, next week then?”
“Well, yeah.”
“OK. And what day?”
“What day am I moving in?”
“No. What day would you be moving out?”
“What?” I wasn't sure I'd heard him correctly. “You want like a date on the calendar?”
“No,” he said quickly. “I just meant a rough date. You know, like how long you're gonna be there.”
“Oh my God.” I shook my head. “You know what? Forget it.”
He threw up his hands and stared at me. “What? It was just a question.”
Yes. The kind of question that was forcing me to take a stand. I may have been freaked out and I may have been scared, but I was not going to subject myself to a guy who felt less for me than he did the seats in his Camaro.
“I haven't even moved in and you're already asking when I'm leaving.” This time when I pushed off from the bar stool, he didn't stop me. And I wouldn't have let him. “This is a mistake.”
“Moving in?” I could tell from the tone of his voice that he thought it was, too.
“No.” I stared at him. Then I traced a circle in the air with my finger around both of us. “This is a mistake. Us.”
“Katie--”
“Don't,” I said. “Don't make it worse. I'm done.”
“Done with me?” he sounded incredulous and I wondered if anyone had ever broken up with him before.
Probably not and I felt a small sense of pride in what I hoped would be a long line of women breaking up with him.
“I deserve better.”
Ben chuckled. “Better than me? Ha. Good luck.”
Everything he was crystallized in that moment. Good-looking, yes. But completely self-absorbed. A barrage of memories over the last nine months hit me. Dates at the restaurant. Working out at his gym together. Cruising for parts for his Camaro. Jumping into a freezing cold lake because
he
wanted to. Not once did we do things I wanted to do. It was always what Ben wanted. And I'd let him. And the first time I asked for something—that afternoon, sitting in the bar, desperate and alone and needing a place to stay—he'd balked. Because it wasn't what he wanted.
I tossed a five on the bar and glanced down the bar. Dylan was drying and stacking mugs. He frowned at the cash on the bar, shaking his head, letting me know I didn’t need to pay.
“You'll be back,” Ben said. “Begging.”
I left the money in place on the bar and looked at Ben. “Only if I need a mechanic.”
“Whatever.”
I didn't say anything, just turned and walked toward the door. I wasn't going to let him see me cry. Because the crying wasn’t just about him. It was about the downward trajectory my life had taken that day. I wasn’t going to miss him, but breaking up with a boyfriend, no matter how much of a jerk he was, still hurt.
And I
might
have been PMSing.
“You'll be back,” he called. “Less than a week.”
I didn't know where I would be next week. But one thing was crystal clear as I headed back to my car.
I wouldn't be with him.
***
Save Me
, the next in the Me Series by Liz Appel, available September 12, 2012.