by E. K. Blair
She shifts, almost nervously, in her seat. “Yeah.”
She looks over at Jase, who is sitting next to her, and I watch their silent exchange, unsure of what’s going on. I think back to what I’ve heard Mark say about this girl.
“She’s going through some heavy stuff . . . Jase is staying the night with her.”
Watching her peel off the label on her beer bottle, I try to push whatever is bothering her away, and ask, “So, Candace, what do you plan on doing when you finish school?”
When she looks up at me, I notice the coloring of her eyes. They’re a light gold that almost flake into a deep emerald green.
“I hope to dance professionally while time allows. Not sure where that will happen. New York was always the plan, but I’m not so sure now.” She looks over to Jase again, but he’s engrossed in a conversation with Mark. I notice one of her brows twitch up. Nervous tick. I wonder if she’s even aware that she has one.
Man, this girl is easily distracted. I bring her back in when I say, “I love New York. You ever been?”
“Yeah, several times. It’s a great city. I actually lived there the summer before my senior year of high school. I had a scholarship to one of the conservatories in the city.”
“So, your parents just let you live there alone for the summer?” I ask, surprised that a parent would let their teenage daughter run off to New York City all by herself.
“Umm, yeah. My parents are . . . well, not your typical involved parents,” she tries to explain.
Moving past it, I continue, “So, that’s where you’d like to wind up then?”
“That’s the plan,” she says with a hint of a smile, which also reveals a hint of a dimple in her right cheek.
Damn, I feel like a deprived puppy, infatuated over details of a chick I don’t even know.
“What are you two talking about?” Mark asks, and I take the distraction, answering, “New York City.”
The band starts in on another song, and I know it well—’Infinity.’ I watch Candace stand and walk back to the bookcase Mark was at earlier. The three of us get up and follow her over, and I step next to her, resting my elbows on the bookcase as I lean forward.
I listen to the music, all the while feeling her eyes on me. I know I shouldn’t look, but I do anyway, catching her. She gives me a soft grin and turns her attention back to the band.
Mark and Jase head to the bar, and I notice Candace taking a step back. I don’t look at her. I don’t want her to know that I want to. I’m not even sure I know why I want to—but I do. I keep my eyes forward, and when I can’t help myself, I turn my head back to see her eyes locked on me. She’s flustered as she stumbles around and runs smack into Mark, whispering something in his ear. Mark turns to Jase, and when he does, Jase steps over and asks her, “You ready to go?”
Mark looks to me and says, “Hey, man. It was good seeing ya. We’ll catch up later this week.”
“Yeah, catch you later,” I tell him and then hold my hand out to Candace. “I’m glad I ran into you again.”
Hesitantly, she slips her hand into mine, and I like the way it feels.
“Yeah, it was nice,” she says, quickly pulling her hand back and turning to leave.
Interactions with this girl are weird. Jase told me, when I gave him the tickets, that the friend he wanted to bring didn’t do well with crowds. Maybe the small space was making her uncomfortable.
Looking over, I spot her leopard scarf still lying on the table. I go over and pick it up. The greedy man in me is happy that she left this behind, giving me an excuse to see her again. The pull of this girl has me confounded, and I know I should make the smart move and stay away.
Coming back from the gym, I finally make the decision to just go and see her. I could just as easily give the scarf she left behind the other day to Mark, but I keep holding on to it. I’ve never chased a girl. It’s always been the opposite. But I’m curious to get to know her and that curiosity surprises me, but I decide to go with it.
I take my time getting cleaned up. I’m not even sure if she’s gonna be at work, but I’ll take the chance and stop by before I head into the bar for a few hours. When I walk downstairs, I look out the large windows to see that it’s another rainy day. Grey and cold.
Shrugging on my jacket, I walk over to the coffee table to grab her scarf. Her scent is encased in the fabric. Light and floral. I laugh at myself for being so shot with this girl that I actually smelled it the other night.
When I pull up to the coffee shop, I park my jeep and pick up the scarf. Why am I nervous? Walking through the door, I immediately spot her and happiness swarms, thankful that she’s here and I didn’t miss an opportunity to see her again.
She’s talking to a chick with crazy hair and wiping down the counter. She doesn’t see me, but her friend does and gives me a smirk as she continues to talk to Candace. Finally, looking over her shoulder, she spots me as I make my way to the counter.
“You’re gonna get an ulcer,” she teases, and it’s cute as hell.
I laugh and say, “I didn’t come for coffee,” as I hold out the scarf.
“Oh, I thought I had lost this,” she says as she takes it from my hand. “Thank you.”
“No, you left it on the table, but you rushed out so fast, I didn’t have a chance to catch you.”
Her head lowers, embarrassed I’m guessing, before quietly saying, “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize.”
She takes her apron and sets it on the counter when I ask, “Are you taking a break?”
“Um, no. My shift is over.”
“Perfect timing.” I smile and take this opportunity to spend a little time with her. “Want to have a quick drink?”
“She’d love to,” her friend says over Candace’s shoulder, and when Candace shoots her an irritated look, she starts to stumble over her words.
“Actually, I . . .” she starts, but never catches her sentence when she finally gives up. “Sure,” she resolves. “Let me go grab my bag.”
I watch as she walks away, and her friend steps up with her tattoo-covered arms and asks, “What can I get you?”
“Coffee. Black.”
She gives me a wink as she turns to get my drink, and when she returns to me, she sets down two cups. “Candace likes hot tea,” she says with a smirk, and I wonder why she’s so eager.
When I pull out my wallet, she tells me it’s on the house, and I go to find an empty table by the front window. Sitting down, I look up to see Candace walking towards me. She eyes the drink that’s on the table, and I tell her, “Your co-worker said you like hot tea.”
“Oh, thanks,” she says as she takes a seat. “She’s actually my boss. Roxy.” She seems nervous, just like the other night. She takes a sip of her tea and focuses her attention out the window.
“Did Mark tell you we are heading down to Mount Rainier on Saturday?” I ask to try and draw her attention back to me.
“Yeah, Jase mentioned something like that to me.”
“You should come with us.”
“I don’t know . . . I have a lot of studying I need to get done.”
I can tell she’s avoiding me. I’m not used to girls not being interested in me, but this one . . . she hardly seems to notice me.
“Well, if you change your mind, we are heading out in the morning around eight.”
“How did you know I would be here today?” she asks, changing the subject on me.
“I didn’t,” I say, trying not to be too transparent. “I just thought I would stop by, and if you weren’t here, I was just going to leave your scarf with whoever was working,” I tell her, not needing her to know that I’d been hanging on to that scarf for days, hoping when I did stop by that she would be here.
“I didn’t mean for that to come out rude.”
“It didn’t.”
Watching her small hands clutch her cup of tea, I shift my eyes up and ask, “So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”
“I have class in a couple hours, then I go to studio until five o’clock.”
“Studio?”
“It’s dance class.”
Nodding, I question, “You do that every day?”
“Yep. Two hours a day except for Tuesdays and Thursdays, which are three hours. But I tend to go in on the weekends as well for extra practice.”
“That’s a lot. When do you have time for anything else?”
“I don’t,” she says with a shake of her head.
“That bother you?” I ask, wondering if she does anything besides school.
“No . . . Why?”
“I don’t know. When do you ever get down time?”
“I don’t. But I love dance, so I consider that my down time. It relaxes me.”
“So school and work, huh?”
She grins and responds, “Pretty much.”
“That doesn’t sound like very much fun,” I joke.
Shifting her eyes down to her hands, she doesn’t respond. She’s difficult to read, so I back pedal, and say, “I didn’t mean for that to come out like it did.”
Her eyes catch mine when she looks up. “I just like to stay busy.”
I back off the questions and offer her another tea, but she says she has to get going.
“I’ll walk you out,” I tell her. We slip on our coats, and she gathers her things before we head out into the rain. She nods her head to a sporty, white Acura, and we start walking that way.
“Thanks for the tea,” she tells me as she opens her door and slides into her seat.
Gripping the frame of her car, I lean in slightly and say, “Think about Rainier.”
“I will,” she tells me with fake intent, but I laugh it off and shut her door before she pulls away.
I hop into my car and head to the bar. When I get there, I go upstairs to my office and run into Max in the hall.
“Hey, boss. I didn’t know you were coming in today.”
“Yeah, I need to get a few things done. I’m not staying tonight though.” I had made plans with Mark and Jase to go shoot pool, so when I leave here I’m gonna hang out with Jase at his place before we head out.
“You seem upbeat,” he remarks as he follows me into my office.
Shutting the door, I walk over to my desk and take a seat. “So you know that girl from the coffee shop I told you about the other week?”
“Yeah.”
“I had coffee with her this morning,” I tell him.
“What? Why?”
“Turns out, she’s friends with Jase and Mark. I ran into them a few nights ago, and she was with them.”
He looks at me with a curious tilt of his head, and I admit, “It’s weird.”
“What’s weird?”
“Her. I mean . . .” I can’t seem to find the words to explain what I’m trying to say, but he jumps in and asks, “You like her?”
“I don’t know her,” I immediately defend, knowing that the first word that came to my mind was yes.
“You don’t have to know her.”
Sitting back in my chair, I tell him, “There’s this pull she has that no one has ever had on me before. But she’s not like any of the girls I’ve ever been with.”
He laughs at me and says, “That’s probably a good thing.”
I laugh with him for a second. “She’s a ballerina.”
“No shit? So why is she hanging out with you?” he teases.
“That’s the thing . . . I don’t know. She’s really standoffish, and I can’t figure out why.”
“Maybe she’s just not into you. That is possible, you know?” he jokes with a knowing grin on his face.
“Yeah, man. I know,” I give him right back. “But it isn’t that obvious. More like she’s got thick boundaries. I dunno.”
“You gonna see her again?”
“I have no idea. She’s very evasive.”
“I think I like this one,” he says with a cocky smile.
“Oh yeah. Why’s that?”
“She doesn’t stroke your ego like most chicks do. She’s gotten under your skin.”
“She’s not under my skin,” I refute. But is she? Maybe he’s right.
“Whatever you say,” he sighs as he stands up and starts walking to the door.
Taking a swig of beer, I mindlessly watch Mark and Jase finish up their round of pool. My head is back at Jase’s apartment where she is. She stopped by unexpectedly while Jase and I were hanging out. Flustered. Something had upset her from the time I saw her earlier today at the coffee shop. She didn’t say anything, but I overheard her asking Mark if she could stay the night with Jase, which I find a little odd.
“So when did you see Candace?” Jase asks me, knocking me out of my thoughts.
“What?” I say as I grab my cue and chalk it.
“When you mentioned our hike.”
“This morning. She left her scarf at the concert. I stopped by her work to drop it off,” I explain right before I break.
Jase is protective over her. I see how he acts with her; I saw it the night of the concert. Holding her hand, touching her back—almost assuring her. Of what? I don’t know. But I see it with Mark too. These guys care deeply for her, there’s no question about that.
When I look up at Jase, he’s staring at me, almost zoned out. “You’re up,” I say.
He moves to make his shot, sinking his ball into the side pocket.
“You guys want another bucket of beers?” Mark asks.
“Yeah,” Jase tells him before Mark heads over to the bar.
I take this time to try and get a little more info on this girl, so when he lines up his next shot, I ask, “So, what’s her story?”
“No story,” is all he says and then misses his shot.
I walk around the table, looking for my play, when I try to casually ask, “You’ve known her a long time?”
“She’s not like that, man. Not even close,” he quickly responds, and I suddenly feel like I’m way out of my league. Jase doesn’t know me like that, but knowing Gavin, I’m sure he’s told Jase stories. By the time I met Jase, and even Mark, I had pretty much stopped fucking around.
I lean over the table, ready to take my shot, when I peek up at Jase, who’s staring. “She’s like a sister to me,” he adds, and I know he knows I’m interested in her. And I also know that he doesn’t think I’m good enough. Maybe he’s right.
Call me when you get a chance.
I read the text from Jase while I’m working from home today. Our conversation a couple nights ago was a little awkward, so I’m curious as to why he wants me to call him. I don’t waste any time thinking too much about it when I tap his name and it begins to ring.
“Hey, what’s up?” he says when he answers.
“Not much. Just getting some work done. You?”
“Heading home from class,” he says before adding, “Look, I’m sorry if I came across short with you the other night. I wasn’t trying to make you feel like you couldn’t hang out with Candace. I just get a little protective of her at times.”
“No worries. I know the two of you are close, so I wouldn’t ever . . .” I trail off, not even sure of where I’m going with this statement, but he cuts the silence and says, “Yeah, I know. But, hey, if you wanna come over tonight, Candace and Mark will be here. We’re just gonna lay low and hang out.”
“Yeah, man. I’ve got some things to take care of, but I’ll stop by later.”
“See ya.”
“Later,” I say and then hang up.
I spend the day taking care of a few work things. I’m trying to lessen the time that I have to spend up at the bar, so I’ve been getting most of my work done from home. Michael has been putting in the hours, and I feel I’m at a point where the bar is running smoothly without me having to be around all too often.
It’s a little after eight when I head over to Jase’s apartment building. When I get there, Mark lets me in, and I look over to see Candace wrapped up in Jase�
�s arms on the couch. My head takes me to wishing it was my arms wrapped around her. I shut that thought down fast, but it lingers in the back of my mind. Truth is, I’ve never been that way with a girl in my whole life, so to see Jase have that with someone who’s only a friend makes me a little envious.
He looks up at me when I walk by and says, “Hey, there’s beer in the fridge. Help yourself.”
Giving him a nod, I head straight into the kitchen to grab one. When I turn around to get the bottle opener, Candace walks in, holding an empty wine glass.
“Could you hand me a bottle of water?” she asks, and I open the fridge to grab one.
Handing it to her, I take the wine glass out of her hand, and with a smirk, I say lightly, “I thought you never did anything fun.”
When I walk over to the sink to set her glass down, I hear her respond, “I never said that. I said I like to keep busy.”
I turn around to face her and lean back against the counter. She stands there in what looks to be a pair of Jase’s boxers and a UW t-shirt. Her hair is piled on top of her head again, and I don’t think she could look any more attractive than she does right now—relaxed.
“Did you have a better day today?” I ask, knowing that the last time I saw her something had clearly upset her.
“It was okay. How about you?”
“Hung around my place for the most part.”
“Candace,” Jase calls from the other room, “It’s back on.”
She doesn’t say anything else to me, she just turns to go sit next to Jase on the couch, pulling her legs up as he wraps his arm back around her. I sit on the other end of the couch while Mark is comfortable in a chair.
I turn to the TV to see some drunk jackass climbing his kitchen cabinet just to have the whole structure rip off the wall and fall of top of him, dishes and all. When I hear Candace laughing, I turn to her and ask, “What the hell are we watching?”
“‘Ridiculousness,’” she answers, keeping her eyes fixed on the TV.
Jase looks over her to me, and says, “For such a refined girl, she loves this show.”
“You’re the one who first told me about it,” she accuses him.
“Just ignore their banter,” Mark says to me. “They both love trash TV.”