The Reason I Stay (16 page)

Once all the tables and the bar top are clean, I pour us a couple more drinks. In silence, she sits down on the same stool she sat on before, and takes her glass. I sit next to her; she gives me a brief smile, and takes a couple of sips.

“You’re a very confusing man, Matt,” Lexie finally says.

I look at her, genuinely intrigued as to why she’s saying that. Her eyes are directed to the still playing jukebox behind me. I really wish she would look at me. “Why am I confusing?”

“You were a jerk to me,” she says after a deep breath, and it’s like someone threw a bucket of ice over my head.

I take a gulp of whiskey, and close my eyes in frustration. I hate myself for that first day. I just want to forget it ever happened. I want to change things, and make her see that I can be better. That around her, I
am
better.

I sigh, and cut her off. “Come on . . . Can’t we just let that go? I’ve been trying my best to make up for it.”

“And you have.” She looks in my eyes, and places her small hand over mine. “Your experiment worked. I like you.” She blushes as she says that, and then, as an afterthought, adds, “More than I should, probably.”

The butterflies return. My breathing speeds. The air around me feels warmer. I hate all of those feelings, but I love the feel of her delicate skin on mine. I turn my palm up and lace my fingers with hers. She smiles at it.

“But . . . the day we met you were obnoxious, and completely comfortable acting like that. It’s like that was the real you and maybe it is, because you have a car named Greta,” she says the name of my dear car with complete disdain, “and a bar-wrecking history.”

“You sure you like me?” I wash the acid in my voice down with another gulp.

I try to uncurl my fingers from around hers, but she doesn’t let go. In fact, she presses hers tighter, and she laughs. “I’m positive and it’s weird, because I always hated guys like you.”

And the joy just keeps pouring out of her. “Like me?” A bit more annoyance than I’d intended to comes out in my voice.

“Yeah, the ones with ridiculously named sports cars and bad attitudes. The ones who wear trendy clothes, like suit vests, and skinny ties with jeans, and pick up women by flaunting money.”

In all honesty, I’m hating this conversation as much as I’ve hated the past four months of my life. Mostly it’s because the description she just gave fits me like a glove. That’s me, or at least the version of me I’ve been since age sixteen. Just like last Saturday night, I hate how accurate she is in her assessment. I hate that she sees it, and for the first time in my life, I’m ashamed of being like that.

Lost on how to reply, I try to diffuse the awful feeling coursing through me with humor. “You’re assuming about the vests and skinny ties. You’ve never seen me in anything other than T-shirts.”

She exhales a large breath that smells like Jack. When I look at her, she’s got the flirty brow on her face. “Yes I have. I’ve seen you with no shirt on.”

I smirk, and touch my knee to hers. “So did I.”

Her giggles fill the empty space around us, and mix with the country ballad playing in the background. It creates my new favorite sound in the world, and though I don’t like this conversation very much, I do like this moment. I like it a lot.

I set my glass down on the counter, and stand up. Lexie looks at me with confusion in her eyes, but I don’t explain my action. I wouldn’t know how, since I don’t fully understand it myself. All I know is that I need to feel her closer. With my free hand, I take the glass from her grasp and place it next to mine. Then I take a step back, pulling her hand with me.

A smile spreads across her lips as she stands. I let go of her hand and bring both of mine to the small of her back, pulling her toward me. She drapes both arms around me, one hand over my shoulder, and the other hidden behind the loose ends of my hair to tease the base of my neck.

We move according to the slow pace of the song. Her head rests against my chest, making my heart beat harder and harder. I would care about how vulnerable and affected that makes me seem, if the smell of honey and vanilla coming from her hair wasn’t intoxicating me to my very core. I never thought those scents could be this powerful. Or maybe it’s just her.

“See . . . The most confusing man I’ve ever met.” Her voice is soft against my chest.

“Why?” I ask against her hair, hoping that the rest of the explanation contains some nice things.

“Because despite all the things that make you
that guy
, the one I hate, you have dates with seven year-olds and refuse drinks from a woman, even though there’s nothing between us. You don’t have visible tats, even though they go hand in hand with this sexy, smug bastard thing you have going. You help me clean tables, and buy me drinks, and dance with me, even though I said I’m not going to sleep with you. You’re funny and kind, and the first song you played me was from the movie
Cars
.”

“Are those bad things?”

Lexie shakes her head or nuzzles me—I’m hoping for the second, but I think it was the first. “No, they are really great things . . . Great and confusing things.”

Her words make me smile, and finally, I like this conversation. So I kiss the top of her head, and hope that gets added into the great and confusing list. The way she runs her fingers against the back of my neck tells me it does.

We dance in silence as one song melts into the next. Her fingers move up and down the nape of my neck, sending delicious shock waves down my back, and we move together like we’ve done this a million times. And I wish we had. I’ve been high on many things before, but this is the first time I’ve been buzzed on a woman. It’s also the most addicting.

“I haven’t worn a vest or a tie since my birthday, which was four months ago.” I’m not sure why I’m telling her this, but I don’t care. I simply continue. “You’re right about the tats, though. They are just for me, but it’s not because I’m not that kind of guy.”

I look at the arm stretched to my left, the one covered in ink, and for the first time, I really see her tattoos. They are mostly flowers, ribbons, and other frilly things. Like her, they are absolutely feminine and beautiful. On the inside of her forearm there’s the face of a woman with brown hair and hazel eyes. She’s young, beautiful, and surrounded by light pink and white flowers. Although I don’t know who the woman is, I know she must be someone important to Lexie, and I envy her for it. I also envy Lexie, because she literally has her heart in place where everybody can see, and it takes a very special kind of courage to do that. One that I don’t have.

“You let people see the real you; the girl with the smile, and the colorful flowers on her arm. I don’t. I put on the tie, gel up my hair, hide my tattoos, and pretend to be
that guy
. And I believe that I’m him, mostly because I don’t even know who I really am.”

I can’t believe that just came out of my mouth, or that those thoughts even crossed my mind. I’ve always known who I was—or, I thought I did. But now that I think of it, it’s impressive how accurate her observation is.

Lexie pulls her head back from my chest to look at me. She’s smiling the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen. “Maybe you’re Lightning McQueen, finding yourself in Nowhere, USA. It’s either that or a personality disorder.”

I’ve seen pretty things and beautiful women, but nothing and no one come even close to her. She’s the kind of beautiful that makes other things, ugly things, beautiful. She’s the kind of woman who makes
that guy
better.

Without thinking, I lower my head and gently press my lips against hers. She’s got the softest lips I’ve ever kissed, and they fit perfectly against mine. It’s like they are made of mine, or for mine, or maybe both. And though we keep our lips closed the whole time, it’s the best kiss of my life.

The moment I pull back from her smiling lips and see her still closed eyes, I want to kiss her again, but I don’t want to give her the idea that this was planned, which it wasn’t. So, regretfully, I keep my lips to myself, and tuck a stray lock of her hair behind her ear.

“Are you working tomorrow?”

She nods, and finally opens her eyes to look at me, her pupils so dilated that the green is almost invisible. “Yep. Breakfast shift.”

“You should go sleep.”

I hate myself the moment I say those words, because I don’t want her to leave unless it’s with me, then it’d be fine. However, there’s this part of me—the crazy one that has butterflies, kisses with a closed mouth, and feels drunk on the scent of honey and vanilla—that wants to take care of her, and in this moment, that means making sure she sleeps well.

Lexie smiles, and rests her head against my chest again. “Okay, but after this song. I like this song.”

“What is it called?” I ask, wanting to know the things she likes.

She giggles. “I have no idea.”

We walk to the small parking lot by the diner hand in hand, and though I love this moment, I also hate every second of it. I don’t want to say good night.

Lexie leans against the driver’s door of a yellow VW Rabbit that seems in pretty good shape, considering it’s as old as her. Bathed in the moonlight, she looks absolutely breathtaking. I take a step closer and place my feet on either side of her body. With the hand that isn’t holding hers, I caress the skin over her jaw and neck.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Her gorgeous eyes crinkle in the corners as she stares back at me.

Her worry is surreal to me. If she wanted me to, I’d be the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes. How can she think I’m not going to see her again?

Before I can restrain myself, my lips pull into a smirk, and my brow cocks. “You could see me for breakfast, if you want.”

Her smile lets me know she understood what I meant, and for a second I think she’s going to say she wants to. The simple idea of that makes a chill run down my spine. If time with her is this good, I can’t even think what a night with her would be. But before my mind can run completely wild and make a mess out of things, she says, “Breakfast will be in five hours. That’s a miserable amount of sleep. You should sleep in for both of us.” The reminder that she’s not a girl who takes just any guy home, makes me want her more.

I really want to kiss her, but after the little taste of her lips I had earlier, I know that in my current state I couldn’t leave it at one kiss and say goodnight. So I lean toward her, and kiss the spot where her lips connect to her cheek. “I’ll see you at lunch then?”

Lexie takes a deep breath and nods. “I’m working ‘til three.”

“See you then.”