Shaken Not Stirred (Mixology) (6 page)

“Not to play by the rules?”

“I usually wait a few days before calling for
another date. I usually don’t make jokes about sex and toilet paper
on a second date. I usually don’t tell a date that I’m overwhelmed
by their beauty on the second date either.” He laced his fingers
with mine.

I turned to him. “You haven’t told me
that.”

“I have now.” He placed his hands on my
shoulders and looked me directly in the eyes. “And in case you
missed it, I’m overwhelmed by your beauty.”

If most guys had said something like that to
me, I probably would have laughed. I didn’t laugh. My chest
clenched as the intensity in his eyes burned into mine.

Instead of laughing, I hugged him. The kind
of hug where I leaned my head on his chest and let him wrap me up
in his arms. The hug wasn’t the “second date” kind of hug, it was
more of a “we’ve been together three months” sort of thing. Most
guys would have kissed me, but he didn’t. I was already seeing that
Colin wasn’t other guys.

We didn’t say much after that, but there was
something comforting in the silence. I liked it, and I think he did
too. Eventually we got back in the car, and he drove me home.

We stopped in front of the door to my
condo.

He took both of my hands in his. “I had a
great time tonight.”

“Me too.” I smiled.

“You are everything yet nothing like I
thought you’d be.”

“What does that mean?”

He moved his hands up my arms. “It means you
are even more amazing than I expected.”

“Then thanks.”

He leaned over and brushed his lips against
mine. I shivered, wanting the kiss like I hadn’t wanted a kiss in
years. He started to pull away. I reached out for him, ready to
protest when his lips crushed into mine. Our lips moved together,
and I wrapped my arms around his neck. His response was to pull me
closer, and to let his hands move down to my hips.

His tongue pushed against my teeth, and I
welcomed him into my mouth. He tasted like cinnamon, and I wanted
more. He groaned as I pressed my body against his.

“Maddy?”

Colin groaned again, but this time it wasn’t
a good one.

We broke the kiss.

“Can we help you, Brody?”

Brody smiled sheepishly. “I heard some noise
and wanted to check it out.”

“You can go inside now.”

“Oh, yeah. Okay.” He backed up and closed the
door.

“So…that was a little awkward.”

Colin took my hand again. “Not awkward, just
frustrating.”

“Thanks for a great night.”

“Thanks for a great ending to the night—minus
your, uh, roommate interrupting.”

“Make sure to kiss me somewhere else next
time.”

He laughed. “I’ll remember that. Sleep well,
Maddy.”

“You too.”

He kissed me on the cheek, and I walked
inside.

As soon as the door clicked closed, I
confronted Brody. He was sitting on the couch with his feet up on
the ottoman.

“Was that necessary?”

“You think I did that on purpose?” He pointed
at his chest. He was wearing a ragged, old t-shirt. I felt
completely overdressed.

“You heard a noise?”

“Yeah. I was just checking things out.”

“Do me a favor: next time, don’t.”

“How was it?”

I wasn’t sure if he meant the date itself or
the kiss. “Great.”

“Yeah?”

“Nice dinner, nice conversation, and a good
kiss.”

“Only good?”

“Wonderful. He tastes like cinnamon.”

“Was he chewing gum?”

“No. I think he just tastes that way. The
funny thing is I don’t usually like cinnamon-flavored things.”

“There’s probably a deep metaphor in there
somewhere.”

“One we’re not discussing tonight.” I slumped
down on the couch next to him and kicked off my shoes.

“When are you going to see him again?”

“I don’t know. I guess whenever he
calls.”

“Letting him call all the shots, huh?” Brody
stretched out his legs next to mine.

“What? Is there any problem with that?”

“No, I’m just giving you a hard time.”

“You’re good at that.”

“Not as good as Macon.” He yawned, reminding
me of how late it was.

“You have a point there.”

“Morning, Maddy. I thought I’d bring you
breakfast, but unfortunately we’re out of Cinnamon Toast
Crunch.”

I forced my eyes open. “Macon?” I struggled
to hold on to the end of a good dream while trying to make sense of
Macon’s presence in my room.

“Want me to make you cinnamon French toast
instead?”

“Cinnamon?” Then my foggy brain finally
figured it out. “Brody!”

“He’s out for a run.” Macon sat down on the
edge of the bed. “But yes, he filled me in.”

“Filled you in? Because my dating life is so
exciting?”

He shrugged. “You haven’t dated anyone since
you moved in, and you’ve gone out with this guy twice. That makes
it a least somewhat newsworthy.”

“Get out of my room.”

“Why? Did I interrupt a dream about Cinnamon
Boy?”

“No…” I wasn’t interested in telling him who
my dream was about. I didn’t need any of that psychoanalysis from
him. Macon’s parents were both psychiatrists, and he liked to
pretend they’d imparted their wisdom on him. A favorite way of his
to show it off was to annoy the hell out of me.

“You know what I’m going to assume if you
don’t tell me.”

“I do?”

“It would be painfully obvious that you were
dreaming about me.” He reached over to my bed stand and picked up
my copy of
People
magazine. Don’t judge.

“But why wouldn’t I tell you that? Don’t you
already know I dream about you all the time?”

“Be careful, girl. Don’t tempt me while we’re
on your bed.”

I laughed. “I think we’ll be able to resist
the urge. Anyway, why’d you come in here? Was it really just to
annoy me?”

He set down the magazine without opening it.
“I have a few more buddy passes to use before my gym membership
switches over. Want to come with?”

“Definitely.” Although I generally preferred
to run and lift light weights at home most of the time, I never
gave up the opportunity to tag along with Macon to his gym. As much
as I enjoyed exercising outside, sometimes I wanted a change of
pace.

“How soon can you be ready?”

“Ten minutes.”

“I love how un-girl you are.”

“Un-girl?” I threw back the covers and got
out of bed, already excited for a good workout. I’m weird like
that. I’m a horrible morning person unless I know I’m getting up to
exercise.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean.”
He stood up and walked to the door. “I’ll see you in ten.”

***

“Oh god. When did he join here?” I didn’t
realize the words had left my lips until the girl on the elliptical
next to me took off her headphones.

She turned and looked at me quizzically. “Are
you talking to me?”

“No. Sorry.” I moved my gaze straight ahead
again, and he was gone. Lyle had definitely been there. Part of me
felt guilty getting excited about a Lyle sighting the morning after
a date with Colin, but I reminded myself that two dates with a guy
didn’t mean I couldn’t think about another.

I focused on my work out again, turning up my
music to the limit of comfort. There’s something so motivational
about Linkin Park at the end of a work out. Their songs push me to
get the job done.

The elliptical beeped to let me know I was at
the two minute mark. That’s when I saw him again—this time in all
his shirtless glory. He hadn’t been shirtless ten minutes before.
He’d been wearing a blue t-shirt. You know you have a serious crush
when you memorize little details like that in seconds.

It wasn’t my first time seeing his chest, I’d
spotted him on the beach on more than one occasion, but it didn’t
matter. The mental drool started before I realized it. I wanted to
avert my eyes but couldn’t. He was talking to some guy I didn’t
recognize while drinking copious amounts of water from a
nondescript bottle.

I stepped off the machine when the workout
finished. That should have been enough of a distraction, but of
course not. Instead, Lyle looked over in time to catch me blatantly
ogling him. Lovely. He waved in a quasi-greeting, and I waved back.
That was it, the moment we were going to have a real connection,
but then he turned and walked away.

“Idiot.” I mumbled before heading off to find
Macon. He was already waiting for me.

“Hey, does that whole half-price friend
membership still apply?”

“Why? You suddenly willing to shell out the
money?”

“Yeah, it might be nice in the winter.”

He grinned. “And it would have nothing to do
with your friend.”

“My friend? Wait you saw him too?”

“Yeah, and I resisted the urge to ask to
smell his cinnamon breath.” Macon checked his phone.

“Wait, Colin?”

“Yeah, who did you think I meant?” He eyed me
skeptically.

“No one.” Oh geez. I needed to get outside.
“On second thought, I don’t want to waste the money.” I opened the
door and booked it to Macon’s car.

He followed me out. “Okay…”

I decided that in the future I’d stick to
running on the beach.

Dashing upstairs as soon as Macon parked, I
closed myself in the bathroom. I stripped off my sweaty clothes,
and stepped under the hot spray of the shower. I thought about my
obsession with Lyle and my budding relationship with Colin—if I
could even call it that. Surrounded by steam and water, the
situation didn’t seem so bad. I relaxed. I always did my best
thinking in the shower.

I could have stayed in forever, but using up
all of the hot water when Macon had let me work out for free would
be pretty obnoxious.

I dried off and wrapped up in a towel.

“You missed a call,” Brody called as I passed
through to my room.

“Thanks.” I closed my door and picked it up.
My stomach turned in excitement as I pictured the cute message from
Colin. Perfect timing. My shower epiphany was that I had to stop
worrying about my parents, my future, and what I couldn’t have. I
needed to focus on what was right in front of me.

The message wasn’t from Colin. It was my
parents checking in on me—again. Evidently, they’d taken the
liberty of finding several master’s programs I could apply for that
were all designed to give you a better shot at med school. The
thought made me uneasy. More school just to take the chance of
getting rejected again? And for what? The more distance I had from
my former life, the less I wanted med school. The problem was, I
didn’t know what I wanted.

The bar top had never been cleaner.
Technically, I didn’t have to be in to work until seven, but I got
there early. By ten o’clock I was falling asleep. Max was already
cutting back my shifts, and I was bored.

Labor Day came and went without a word from
Colin, and I’d accepted the kiss hadn’t been as good for him. His
disinterest shouldn’t have bothered me, but it did. Usually I was
so good at reading people and signs. I’d been wrong this time.

“Everything okay, sweetie?” Max came by on
his rounds of the dining room. I was in the inside bar.

“Yeah. Things are fine.”

“A piece of advice: don’t go into acting.” He
took a seat on one of the stools.

I forced a laugh. “That bad?”

“Yes. You stink at it. But tell me, what’s
eating at you?” Max had this way about him that made you want to
spill your life story. He’d started off bartending at the Grille,
and I could imagine he’d amassed an endless amount of personal
confidences during that time. The only confidences I got were from
drunk guys hoping a sob story would get them laid.

“Nothing really. It’s more of a general blah
feeling.”

“That doesn’t sound good. You never told me,
what happened with your big date a few weeks ago?” He wriggled his
eyebrow.

“It went.”

“Ah, I see.” He gave me a knowing look.

“No. It’s not all about that.”

“Are you sure? Because I have a few more
words of advice for you if it is. Any boy who can’t see how lucky
he’d be to date you isn’t worth it.”

“Thanks, Max. It’s really not that. I have to
figure some things out.” My words were partially true, I did have
to figure things out, but I was hung up on how wrong I’d been about
Colin. It’s not that a guy hadn’t rejected me before, I’d just
always expected it.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

I tried to push my depressive thoughts away,
but I felt lost. I’d spent my whole life on such a set path, and
for the first time, I had no clue where I was going. I wanted it to
excite me, but it scared me more.

“It’s pretty slow tonight. You can head home
anytime you want. We don’t need both bars open, and Dale would be
happy to come inside.” Max’s most seasoned bartender, Dale, got
first dibs on shifts and bars. He was trying to work more, so I
figured that meant I’d be working less.

“I might have to take you up on that.”

“I’ll pay you for the whole shift.”

“Thanks, Max.” It was weird to be so worried
about a paycheck. I’d spent most of my life in the financial bubble
of upper-middle class comfort my parents had given me. I’d kept
that bubble through college, so for the first time, I was on my own
dime. After paying Macon rent, I barely had enough for food.
Working only a few nights a week was going to make for a very long
winter.

“You aren’t going to ride your bike home
alone though, are you?”

“No. I’ll get a ride,” I lied. I had no
intention of calling anyone. It wasn’t even ten o’clock at
night.

Max saw through it. “Maddy, it’s too dark to
ride your bike. People won’t see you.”

“I’ll be fine.” I closed out the register and
blatantly ignored the warnings he was giving me.