The Story of You and Me (16 page)

“Have I hurt you in any way?”

“No.”

“Then why do you think that I would ever injure or humiliate you over a silly bet?” He leaned into my face.

“I want to go home, Alejandro,” I whispered. “Take me home.” I shut my eyes.

“We’re going there, Bonita,” he murmured into my ear. Trust me.” He took my hand with his. “Open your eyes.”

I opened my eyes. I knew he was holding my hand. But what I didn’t know was that he wasn’t standing next to me, towering over my head.
 

He was kneeling on the floor in front of me.
On one knee.
The kind of thing an old-fashioned guy did when he was about to propose marriage.
 

No. Way. What was he thinking?

Chapter Fourteen

But kneel he did on the floor of Westwood Grill in front of all these perfect people who were stared at us, practically drooling. In front of his fellow Drivers, the girls who’d rescued me today and the Grill’s patrons including Nicole, the beautiful girl he’d slept with.

“Will you, Sophie?” Alejandro asked loudly.
 

“What are you doing?” I hissed.

He leaned into my ear and whispered. “You’re supposed to play along with this. Remember?”

“Okay,” I whispered back. “But you’re a dork.”

“I know.” He whispered, then leaned away from me and smiled at our audience. “Will you, Sophie Marie Priebe, take me, Alejandro Maxwell Levine to be your lawfully, whole-heartedly, completely smitten-with-you…” He winked at me.
 

The entire crowd hushed. You could hear a freaking pin drop.

Oh, no. He was not doing this.

“…Driver?” Alejandro asked.

“Um….” I said.

“Will you take me, as your Driver, to transport and guard you through good times and bad? Through tough neighborhoods that have bangers, as well as good, kind-hearted people that give you peaches?”

A smile tugged on my lips, but I shoved it back. “Yes,” I said.

“Will you take me, Sophie, in good traffic and shitty traffic? Good surf and no surf? To protect you from people that are trying to kill you as well as those that flirt with you too much?” He turned, pointed at Tyler and scowled at him.
 

Who burst out laughing and shrugged. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“Will you take me, Sophie to be your lawfully vetted Driver?”

“Yes, Alejandro.” I could no longer hide my smile.

“Here here!” Nathan held up his margarita glass toward us in a toast. “I declare Alex and Sophie are now united in driver-passenger bliss. Alex may kiss the bride.”

“I’m not a bride!”
 

Nathan smacked his forehead with his palm. “Oops, sorry.”
 

“Bonita,” Alejandro said. “Eyes down here.”

I looked back down at him on one knee on the floor. He stared up at me with something in his eyes I hadn’t seen before. His look was intense. It almost scared me. “I’m claiming my kiss,” he said.
 

My eyes widened.
 

He brought my hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. Sweetly. He kissed the exact place where the med techs had inserted the IV that shuttled the anesthesia and other drugs into my body.
 

He pulled me closer to him. His fingers traced a line from my hand up my forearm and stopped at the inside of my elbow that was bruised from all the blood draws. He kissed my black bruises. The green ones. Lingered on the yellow one.
 

Something was happening to my chest. I started breathing a little heavy. Another piece of my heart was cracking open. I prayed no one in the crowd would notice my reaction, no one would see I was losing my cool. “Alejandro—I don’t know…”

“Alejandro Maxwell Levine,” Cheyenne stomped toward us. “So help me God if you’re messing with my girl I will kill you. After I kill you, I will drag your corpse from this Grill and shove it next to the dumpster. Where LADWP trash collectors will pick you up and you will disappear forever. Do you understand me?”

Alejandro’s lips left my arm as he swiveled his head and gazed up at her. “This is what I like about you, Cheyenne. You are loyal and fierce and kind. By all means. If I mess with your girl? Throw me out of here, for good. Lock the door, lose the key and never let me back inside.” He turned his gaze back to me and smiled. “But I promise you, I am not messing with your girl. Because, I am crazy about your girl.”

Cheers erupted from the semi-tipsy college crowd.

Cheyenne’s frown morphed into a small smile. She gestured with two fingers next to her eyes, and then aimed those fingers at Alex. “I’m watching you.” She walked away.

Alejandro stood up, all six-feet-two inches of him and leaned down toward me. “I won our bet. I claim my prize. Which is a kiss,” he said.
 

And that’s when he finally kissed me. Sweetly. Slowly. Surely.
 

On the top of my head.
 

A few folks applauded, but more then a few groaned.
 

“Pathetic,” Tyler said. “You change your mind, Sophie, and decide you want another Driver, or a better kisser, do consider me.” He winked.

“Shut up, Tyler,” Nathan said.

Alejandro leaned down and whispered into my ear, “And now, Bonita, I’m driving you home.”

* * *

This time Alejandro’s Jeep’s engine didn’t rumble at the curb. This time the Jeep was parked and he walked me to my door.
 

“Thanks for everything. Again.” I stuck my keys in the door. My hand trembled just a little. Hopefully he wouldn’t see that. I heard Napoleon’s meows coming from inside my place. “The new kitten calls. Need to give Napoleon food and attention. You were right about calming the crowd down. You seem to be right about almost everything.”

He put his hand on top of my hand that was on the doorknob. “I should probably come inside and help you with stuff.”

“You helped me a lot already. With the exception of my family and my best friend, you’ve helped me more than almost anyone else I know.”

“Go out with me, for real,” he said. “Not a yoga class or a walk on fire event, or a palm reading.”

I really wanted to say, yes. But, this would take us to a different place.
 

“We are so perfect right now,” I said. “I don’t want to screw up our relationship. I don’t want—”
 

He pulled me toward him and kissed me. One hand cradled the back of my head. He ran his fingers through my hair with his other hand. His lips were full and insistent. His tongue slipped inside my mouth like it was meant to be there. Tempting me. Claiming me. He tasted sweet.
 

And suddenly I felt like I was falling all over again. I leaned back against my front door as his lips moved from my mouth, trailing kisses down my face, down my neck.
 

“Sophie,” he breathed in my name. Then kissed me hard on the lips, his tongue exploring my mouth. One strong arm wrapped around my waist as he lifted me up a few inches off the ground toward him, my T-shirt scrunching up toward my breasts, my bared abdominal skin pressed tight against his thin T-shirt.
 

“Life is short, Sophie Marie Priebe. We are not perfect people. We don’t know how much time we will have together.”

He had no idea how scary prophetic he was being.

“But I will guarantee you this. We have something far more special than the majority of people. Consider this to be your official invitation—” His warm breath and the pressure of his full lips brought a flush to my skin. His hand traced down my neck toward the top of my T-shirt. He pulled the neckline back as he kissed my shoulder.
 

Shivers raced up and down my arms. “This is me. Officially asking you, Sophie, to, please, go out with me.” He tucked strands of my hair behind my ear. Kissed my ear. Kissed my hair. Kissed my shoulder.
 

“Yes, Alejandro. Yes, I will go out with you.” I tried to find my footing. Which was a little hard to do when he was still holding me six inches above the ground.
 

Gidget barked and I heard a kitchen window slam shut, muffling her yips.

“Voyeurs,” I said to Alejandro as his lips brushed mine.
 

He frowned. And slowly let me slide down his body. His gorgeous face. His dimpled chin. I closed my eyes because I just wanted to feel him: His muscular solid chest. His tight abs. His hardness. When my feet hit the ground, he backed away from me.
 

I swayed for a moment and wanted to say,
“Fuck you, caution. Screw you, MS! You can’t own me. This is my time!”
 

“Gimme Shelter” blared from Alex’s phone. I opened my eyes and reached for him, but he was standing a couple feet away from me the sidewalk. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“Someone needs a Driver. I can’t believe it. Not tonight.” He stared at his phone.

“You’re leaving?”

“Sorry, Bonita. It’s important. I made a promise. I’ve gotta go.” He jogged toward his Jeep.

“Okay,” I said as my knees felt weak and I leaned against my door.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” He got into his Jeep and drove away.

* * *

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” The most commonly used words that meant, “Have a nice life. Because, there’s a good chance I’ll never see you again.”

I fed Napoleon and watched him devour his fancy wet cat food on a plate on the floor of my kitchen. I wiped tears away as I played with him. Dangled the string. Rubbed his fuzzy belly. Tore the cellophane off the cat scratcher pad and sprinkled a little nip on it. Watched him as he inhaled and scratched the cardboard pad with his front paws like he was the first fireman on the scene of a five-alarm fire. “You have nothing to worry about anymore you adorable opportunist.”
 

I sat down cross-legged on the living room floor, pulled him onto my lap, held him up to my face and cuddled him. He meowed. “You have landed in cush-land, buddy. Where everything will be good. And you will be loved and fed and comforted. And no one will kiss you then leave you.” And I thought about Alejandro. Our one magical kiss. I had let my guard down. Maybe this wasn’t such a good thing. I felt pretty awful right now.

Napoleon squirmed and meowed loudly, mouth wide open.
 

“What? More food? More attention? More nip? You are too…”
 
the room suddenly went gray for a heartbeat. Then black. Then nothing.

* * *

I woke up to squeaky meows. My eyes fluttered open. I was lying on my side with a black kitten standing on top of my chest, staring into my face. I was collapsed on the living room floor. I felt like I’d just been through my own personal earthquake. What I’d actually just been through was another MS related seizure.
 

Dammit.
 

It was a gran mal, not a petit mal. The petit were the “pretty” types of seizures, where one would just stare off into space and forget where they were for a few seconds. Yes, they were still dangerous. But I’d just had the kind where you’d blank as your muscles spasmed uncontrollably, twitching, flailing. The kind where you could hit your head and die or cause an accident, which is why I didn’t drive.

Which is also why I didn’t date.

But why now? Nothing like this had happened in at least six months. Well before I landed in L.A. Were the stem cells turning dangerous? Was it my MS? Was it bad pixie dust raining down on me for whatever rotten karma from a past life I needed to burn?

I was already scheduled for an MRI at the hospital later tomorrow. I was not going to the ER. I didn’t want to call anyone to stay with me, including Alejandro. I decided to spend the rest of the night on my living room floor. It was low and safe. No place to fall. I grabbed some pillows and a blanket from the couch and settled in. I wondered if I’d have another seizure. Replayed how Alejandro’s lips felt on mine. How he tasted. Remembered how my heart felt like it was opening.
 

And felt it slowly tighten back up.

* * *

I told the doctors at the study about my seizure. So today’s MRI was a close up of my brain. I ignored the machine-gunfire-in-the-middle-of-a-thunderstorm noises as I lay in the imaging tube for forty-five minutes. I ignored the cage over my head that made feel like I was Hannibal Lecter behind his mask. I ignored the ache in my heart.
 

I exited the tiny room where I’d been examined, walked into the hallway and practically tripped over a wheelchair and the girl in it.

“Hey, Cheesehead,” Blue said. “Keep your eyes on the road.” She wheeled down the corridor.

“Sorry!” I said. “How are you doing?” I followed her.

She shrugged. “Do you know anyone in a wheelchair?”

Nana had been in a chair for about five years now. I had watched as she deteriorated from walking with a cane, to using a walker and then the chair.
 

And now she was in Assisted Living.
 
I nodded. “My grandmother. It’s not easy.”

“No. It’s not.” Blue’s eyes narrowed as she swiveled and eyed me. “You don’t look all that perky today.”

Seizure last night. Brain MRI today. Throbbing headache from deafening MRI. No phone call or text or email from Alex so far. “Far from perky, Detective Blue.”

“Hah! Are you headed out of here?”

“That would be a thank God, yes.”

“Got plans?”

“Other than tattooing an L on my forehead? Nope,” I said.

“Lithuanian?” She wheeled down the hallway. “Lutheran? Lesbian? Longshoreman?”
 

“Loser.” I trailed behind her.

“Someone’s feeling sorry for herself.” She stopped in front of the elevator and punched the button. The doors opened in seconds. She rolled into the elevator but stopped midway and looked over her shoulder at me. “I’ve got a solution for you. It’s temporary, but so is everything in life.”
 

The doors started to close on her chair. I panicked and waved my arm between them scared they would bounce off the sides of her chair. They slid back open.