String Beans (The Girls of Beachmont #2) (15 page)

“I thought for sure you were going to take me to
Santa Monica or someplace like that.”

“Too many people. Figured I’d show you something
better.”

I glanced over my shoulder at his parents’ home
and then back to him. “Where are your parents today?”

“They like to spend Saturday at the farmers’
market and then take a late lunch.”

“Good thing your Jeep has leather seats—otherwise
we’d ruin them wet like this,” I said.

“I’m fine. I have clothes here,” he laughed as he
got back to his feet. He extended his hand to help me up, and when he pulled I
bumped into his chest. We were so close that I could feel his breath on my
face. As I stared into his eyes, it was one of those moments where it feels
right. I was about to concede and kiss him the way I had the other night and
then he spoke.

“Still not gonna kiss you,” he said quietly.

Rejection tastes pretty nasty, but he did warn me
and I couldn’t be mad. Instead, I smiled as I pushed at his chest playfully and
he laughed when he stepped away, leading us back to the house. As we walked up
the ramp, I grabbed my shoes and followed him inside.

“I have some stuff here, but it’s probably too big
for you. But I can at least give you a dry shirt.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said.

“Wyatt? Is that you?” a man’s voice asked from
somewhere inside.

“Yeah, Dad. What are you doing home?”

The man from the picture I saw earlier walked into
the kitchen, his hair much grayer than I expected.

“I live here. What’s your excuse?” He gave Wyatt a
friendly pat on his wet shoulder and smiled widely when he spotted me. “And
who’s this?”

“Dad, this is my friend Viola. Viola, this is my
dad, Joe.”

“It’s nice to meet you. Your home is lovely.”

“Thank you.” He turned to Wyatt and raised a brow.
“Had I known we were expecting company, I would have made sure we were here.”

“That’s my fault,” I said. “I asked Wyatt to show
me his favorite places and this was the first place he brought me to visit.”

He looked me up and down. “Why are you all wet,
Viola?”

“Your son decided to toss me into the water, despite
my freaking out.”

“Son, why don’t you get your friend a towel? It’s
the least you could do,” he teased.

Wyatt didn’t argue; he simply left the room to do
as instructed, leaving me alone with his dad.

“Well, come on and meet my wife,” Joe said sweetly.
“Has Wyatt told you much about her?”

I nodded and smiled as we walked into the living
room. There was a beautiful older woman sitting on the couch looking at a book.
It wasn’t open and she didn’t really appear to be interested in it, but she
seemed happy all the same.

“Jennie,” Joe said sweetly as he walked over to
her.

She looked up and smiled, so much love in her
eyes.

“There’s somebody I want you to meet.”

Jennie looked at me and then back to Joe and I saw
a flash of confusion in her eyes. She remained seated and I walked over and sat
next to her.

“I’m Viola, friend of Wyatt’s,” I said, extending
my hand to hers.

She looked at it longer than most people and then
slowly her eyes lifted to mine and a smile appeared on her face. Wyatt had told
me before that she was a bit slower at doing things, so I remained quiet to
give her time.

“Hello,” she said softly. She looked at her
husband, who nodded, before she looked back at me. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Her voice was so soft and gentle, but her eyes looked
like there was so much more she wanted to say. After a moment of silence, she
squeezed my hand and then released it.

“How do you know Wyatt?” she asked slowly.

Aside from her slow speech, I would never have
guessed the woman had a stroke.

“I live in his building.”

Jennie looked at Joe again and the two exchanged a
look that only they knew what it meant.

“Are you his new girlfriend?” she asked.

“She’s my friend, Mom,” Wyatt answered. He walked
over and kissed her cheek sweetly as he handed me a towel. He’d changed and was
wearing dry clothes, and I realized I was sitting on their couch in my wet
shorts.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, jumping to my feet.

“It’s fine,” Joe said. “So what are you two doing
today?”

“We were just about to leave and find something to
eat,” Wyatt said.

“If you want, you can stick around. I was going to
grill chicken and some of the veggies we picked up today. There’s more than
enough,” Joe said.

Wyatt looked over at me.

“Sounds good,” I answered.

“All righty then. Son, why don’t you come help me,
and Viola, just make yourself at home.”

***

“Sorry about that,” Wyatt said.

It was late in the evening and we were almost back
at the apartments. We’d spent all afternoon with his parents talking about the
coffee shop and Wyatt’s crazy antics growing up.

“I had fun,” I admitted truthfully. “Your parents
are great.”

After Joe and Wyatt went outside, Jennie had walked me through every
room of their home, showing me the things she’d collected to decorate it. I
could tell from the pictures throughout that they were a close family who had
spent a lot of time together.

She took me into the room where Wyatt had lived until he’d moved out,
and it was evident that he left quite a bit behind. Jennie turned to me and I
patiently waited while she collected her thoughts.

“I’m glad he finally left,” she said.

“Really? Why?”

She walked over and sat on the bed and patted her hand on the spot next
to her. I joined her and she placed her hand on my lap. I would have normally
recoiled from such an action by a stranger, but something about Jennie was
comforting and familiar. Maybe it was that she was as sweet and loving as my
own mom.

“I wasn’t always…like this,” she said, referring to her stroke. “I want
him to be happy…I don’t want him to worry about me.”

“He loves you,” I said thoughtfully.

“I know.” She looked around the room and her eyes were filled with
tears. “He needs to live his life. I’m…okay. I’m glad he found a reason to move
out.”

“Did she talk your ear off?” he asked.

“She shared a few things,” I answered.

“Oh yeah? Like what?

“That you were a handful,” I laughed.

“Are you shocked?”

“Not in the least.”

He found a parking spot and we got out of the
Jeep. As we walked toward the building, I stopped and looked at Wyatt.

“Thank you.”

“Thank
you
for hanging with my parents. I really didn’t know they’d be back so soon.”

“They’re sweet. I can see why you are the way you
are.”

“So I’m not the pain in the ass you thought?”

I didn’t have a chance to answer because Callie
was rushing toward us from the entrance.

“Where have you been?” she asked. “We’ve been
calling you.”

“Who?” I asked.

“Both of you!”

I reached into my purse and found that I had
several missed calls and texts on my phone.

Wyatt looked at his and held it up. “Dallas just
called.”

“What’s going on?” I asked, my concern growing
with the urgency in her tone.

“Do you play poker?”

“What? Are you serious?”

“Deadly,” she answered, still completely
straight-faced.

“Yes, why?” Wyatt asked.

“Dallas decided that tonight is poker night. Are
you in?”

I looked at Wyatt and Callie, both wearing smiles
on their faces, and nodded. “Sure. Why not?”

“Awesome! Dallas is going down!” she laughed, dragging
me behind her. “So where were you anyway?”

“The beach,” I said, glancing back at Wyatt, who
wasn’t far behind. “Hanging with my friend.”

“I had no idea you were so bad at poker,” Wyatt
teased.

“You were out before me,” I laughed.

We looked over at our friends, who were deep into
the next round—Jolie with a pair of sunglasses on, Dallas doing his best
to cover his eyes with a baseball cap, and Callie surprising us all with her
natural talent for the game.

“They’re insanely serious over there,” I said,
nodding my head at the table where they sat.

“Yeah, I feel like we were taken,” Wyatt added.

“Maybe I’m really a better poker player than you
think I am.”

“Are you trying to bluff me right now?” He raised
his brow and smirked like he was trying to figure me out.

That’s probably why I lost—I have no poker
face.

“Thank God we’re only playing with change,” I
laughed. “Do you think any of them would do good in Vegas?”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“Yeah, I agree.”

“We can hear you,” Callie said. “And I’m damn
good. I’d take Vegas.”

“How much have you had to drink?” I asked with a
laugh.

“Are you busy tomorrow?” Wyatt asked, catching me
off guard.

“I…well, I’m supposed to…”

“C’mon. You can do better than that,” he said
playfully.

“I think we’re out of beer,” Jolie said, her eyes
burning holes into her cards. “Can you two run to the store to get more?
There’s cash in my purse.”

“I think we have some at our place,” Wyatt said.

“Nope. We’re out, too,” Dallas said, staring at
Callie.

“All right. We’ll be back,” Wyatt answered.

I looked over at the three of them and waited for
someone to look at me, to let me know it was a conspiracy, but they were too
busy.

Wyatt walked over and held the door open for me
and I followed. As we made our way down the stairs, there was an uncomfortable
silence that I wanted to fill, but I was at a loss.

“You never answered my question,” Wyatt finally
said.

“About?”

Rather than answer my stupid question, he looked
over and gave me that “You’re trying to be stupid, but you’re not, so maybe you
really are” look. I rolled my eyes, feeling every bit as stupid as I should
have.

“There was more I wanted to show you.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“I want to show you one of my favorite places out
here.”

“Are you planning on turning me into a scientologist?”
I gasped. “I knew there was something wrong with you.”

“No,” he chuckled. “Maybe for our second date. I
have to make sure you’re normal first.”

“Date?”

“I’m kidding… You wish it was date.” He winked.

“In your dreams, cowboy.”

“Fine. Then I wouldn’t take you there until our
second
hang out.
”

“You’re a charmer, aren’t you?”

“Is that a yes?”

We were at the front door of our building,
stepping onto the sidewalk, and I hadn’t answered. Wyatt made it fun, and could
pull me into something I wasn’t ready for if I wasn’t careful.

Fortunately for me, my guard was safely in place,
keeping all potential interests—good and bad—at a safe distance.

It was busy outside, people walking the streets
and cars whizzing by every few seconds. I loved living in the city; even the
noise was something that lulled me to sleep every night.

We were walking toward the liquor store down the
road, crossing over a side street, when I felt Wyatt’s hand wrap around mine. I
tried to shake it off, but he squeezed tighter. And when I heard the group of
people across the street arguing, their voices rising to high levels, I
realized the gesture wasn’t romantic.

As we walked into Angel’s Liquor, he let go of my
hand and I was relieved. Wyatt walked toward the wall in the back where the
beer was, and I headed straight for the vodka.

I found myself glancing in his direction, checking
him out. He was so attractive, and I felt a strong pull to him the more time we
spent together. But Wyatt was always on, always flirting and making his
intentions known. And I was much the same, only not reciprocating.

When I found a cheap vodka that I knew would do
the trick, I grabbed it off the shelf, only to hear Wyatt’s voice close to my
ear.

“You’re going to have a nasty hangover in the
morning with that one.”

He took the bottle from my hand and grabbed one of
the other more expensive bottles instead. The cashier began ringing up the
alcohol and Wyatt paid before I could get my money out.

“I was actually planning on going somewhere
tomorrow, but you’re welcome to come with,” I said as we started walking
outside.

“What were you planning on doing?” he asked.

“Nope. Are you in or you out?” I asked.

He continued walking and looked down at me before shrugging.
“I guess I’m in.”

***

“Where are you headed so early this morning?”
Jolie asked as she stumbled out of her room.

“I’m going to get a haircut.”

“A what?” Her eyes widened. “Sit. Let’s talk this
out and not make any rash decisions.”

“It’s not rash. I want to make some changes and
I’m starting with my hair.”

Jolie was waiting for me at the table and I handed
her a coffee mug as I joined her. When we got back with the beer, Wyatt and I had
played another two hands before calling it a night. I woke up once around one
and heard the ruckus coming from the living room and knew the other three were
going strong. By the looks of Jolie, it was a rough night.

“Just give me a second to catch up here,” she
said, taking a sip of coffee. “Let’s try makeup. Or maybe a makeover…but not a
haircut.”

“It’s hair, Jo. It’ll grow back.”

“Okay, well let me get dressed and come with so I
can make sure you don’t do something you’ll regret.”

“I’m leaving now,” I said quickly, grabbing my
keys. “I’ll see you later.”

“What? Wait. You’re going alone? Why can’t I go?”

I turned to face her and then looked up at the
ceiling. “Wyatt’s coming with me.”

“What? Are you serious?”

“Yeah. He wanted to do something today and I told
him I had plans and invited him to tag along.”

“Wow. That’s some serious boyfriend shit right
there,” she scoffed, her smile firmly in place.

“No it’s not,” I said defensively. “It’s a
haircut.”

“Yeah, but guys don’t go for that crap unless
they’re really into someone. I didn’t realize you decided to give him a shot.
Where have I been?”

Jolie leaned back in her chair and looked
disappointed with herself. We had both been so busy with work that the evenings
were spent catching up on recorded television shows because we were too tired
to actually communicate.

“We’re not dating. I already told him that I can’t
jump back into that just yet. So we hung out yesterday. And now that I think
about it, he doesn’t even know what he’s coming with me for.”

“Well, I guess that makes me feel a little
better,” she said.

“I really have to go or I’ll be late.”

“Don’t go crazy. Sure, it’s just hair, but you’ll
have to live with a bad haircut for months. And if it looks like shit, you know
I’m going to tell you.”

“Yeah. I know.” I walked over and opened the door,
looking back at her. “I’ll be back in a bit. Then you can decide what you
think.”

I closed the door and walked to Dallas and Wyatt’s
place, knocking on the door once. Wyatt answered, wearing shorts and a T-shirt,
ready to go.

“What is it we’re doing today?” he asked.

“You might change your mind once I tell you,” I
said, crinkling my nose.

“Now I’m worried.”

“I’m getting my hair cut today.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, let’s go.”

He shut the door behind him and I heard Jolie’s
words echoing in my ears:

“That’s some serious boyfriend shit right there.”

“…
guys don’t
go for that crap unless they’re really into someone.”

I tried to push her words out of my head, but it
was no use; they would haunt me all day.

***

Two hours later I was sporting a new, spunky,
short hairdo that made me feel like a new woman. I didn’t plan to cut all of my
hair off, but then I kept thinking about the length and the fact that I wasn’t
doing anything with my hair anyway.

Wyatt waited in the lobby and I didn’t know what
reaction to expect from him. But when I came out, he was speechless. A smile
slowly crept onto his face and he nodded his approval.

“You look great,” he said. “Wow.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re making this friends thing really
difficult,” he said as we left the salon.

“What?” I asked.

“Look at you. Any guy would be stupid not to be
interested, and now you look…just…wow.”

“Stop,” I laughed. “You’re so full of it.”

“I’m serious, Vi. And you know it.”

“She did a damn good job, that’s all there is to
it. Tomorrow I’ll try to style it like this, and it’s going to look like a hot
mess. I’m not cool enough to get my hair to do this by myself.”

“I think you’d look good with a shaved head, so
whatever you do fine,” he said.

It was another beautiful day and we were walking
outside in the sunlight. Typically, I loved walking around and window-shopping,
but having Wyatt by my side was a new experience. Sure, Will and I had spent
time doing couple-y things, and this felt very couple-like.

I stopped when I saw a dress in a storefront
window and feigned interest in it. Any other day, perhaps I would have liked
it, but that day, too many other things were on my mind. When he realized I’d
stopped, Wyatt turned around and walked over to stand next to me and stare at
the dress. He was quiet and I took my opportunity to shut it down while I
could.

“Wyatt, I love spending time with you. You’re a
great guy and any girl would be lucky to be with you,” I said as kept my eyes
trained on the mannequin.

“Can you add a few more clichés?” he huffed.
“Maybe an ‘it’s not you, it’s me.’ Or the old, ‘we’ll always be friends.’”

“Don’t be like that,” I answered.

“I’m just trying to help you out.”

“I can’t give any more right now.”

“I’m not asking for any more. You’ve made it clear
what you can and can’t do, and I respect that. But I’m not gonna lie and say
that I’m not falling for you.”

“Who says that?” I said as I finally turned to
face him. “You don’t know me. I mean, sure, we’re friends and we’ve become somewhat
close…but who actually uses a line like that?”

“That’s your problem. You think that everything I
say is a line, something to trick you. You’re standing in your own way, and I
get it…I guess.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Are we done here?” he asked.

I looked around and then back at him, shocked at
his dismissive tone.

“Are we done?” I repeated, his words causing an
ache in my chest.

“Yeah. Is there something else we were going to
do?” he asked.

“No…that was it,” I answered.

“Well then…are you ready to go?”

He looked down at me and when I didn’t meet his eyes,
he lowered himself until I was forced to look into his.

“Hello?”

“Yeah. I’m here. I mean, I’m ready.”

He draped his arm over my shoulder as we walked to
the car and squeezed me playfully.

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

“You’re not mad at me?”

“Mad? No. Disappointed…yeah. But friends don’t
always have to agree on everything.”

“So we’re friends?”

“What? Did you think we broke up?”

“Friends don’t break up,” I laughed.

“Then maybe you’re right—we’re probably better
off as friends.”

When I got home that afternoon, Jolie and Callie
went crazy over my new haircut. Both agreed that it made me look carefree and
fun. I wanted so badly to feel that way. They were on their way out to do some
shopping, and I declined the offer to join. For the first time in a while, I
had a lot on my mind that I wanted to get on paper, so I pulled out my song
journal and started writing. And when I was done, I looked at the words that
had poured out of me and smiled.

Worthy

It started out as magic,

The day you looked at me.

It defied all sense of logic

That you were all I could see.