Kiss Me Back

by Sidney Halston

  I turn so that she can see me, and tuck a long thick chunk of hair behind her ear. “It’s no problem, Lola.”

  Again, there’s silence and it’s deafening as I look around her small apartment. I’m struck by all the colors. I see lamp shades with scarves on them, colorful mismatched chairs and a bright table.

  “Go ahead. Say it,” she blurts out, and it startles me. She looks completely defeated.

  “Say what?”

  “Whatever you’re thinking. Say it.”

  “That is the ugliest fucking lamp I’ve ever seen.” It’s green and hideous.

  She rolls her eyes. “That’s not what you’re thinking.” She lets out a breath. “My apartment? The neighborhood?”

  “Why do you live in a motel, Lola?”

  “It’s not a motel.”

  “It’s not a home either.”

  “I’m saving.”

  “Nothing’s worth you living in this shithole.”

  “Don’t be a jerk. I’ll be out of here soon. Living here is a small sacrifice. I know it’s nothing compared to your beautiful white apartment but it’s just a place to crash. Not all of us are as fortunate as you are.”

  Fortunate? Did she not hear me when I said I grew up in a shitty little town in Detroit? “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re right. I don’t. And neither do you. Wherever you grew up wasn’t as bad as a foster home from hell, trust me,” she says, her hand on her waist. She’s being really defensive. Just like I thought earlier, when she feels she has to explain herself, she gets prickly.

  Unfortunately, so do I.

  “Oh, we’re comparing crappy childhoods now?” I shake my head and let out a big breath. “I’m sorry I called this place a shithole. But I know firsthand how it feels to live in a place like this.”

  “It is a shithole. I don’t disagree. But I’m proud that I’m almost done with school and that I’ve been able to do it all on my own. I don’t need anyone trying to push me down when all I’m trying to do is better my situation.”

  “I’m not pushing you down. I can’t help feeling protective about your safety. I’m sorry it came out like I’m an asshole. But, you’ve done nothing but surprise me tonight. You’re by far the most amazing woman I’ve ever met and the fact that you’re in school and paying for it yourself is unbelievable.” I take a step closer and she closes her eyes. I chuckle and kiss her cheek softly as her eyes flutter open.

  “I’m sorry if I get a little defensive. Be patient with me,” she says, and I’m surprised she admits that. “I’m not used to being questioned or having to show anyone where I live. You’re the first one who’s been here, actually.”

  “I’m nothing but patient,” I say. “Just…let me in. Don’t keep fighting me at every turn.”

  “You’re in, see?” she says, and points to her apartment and I roll my eyes.

  “Not what I meant and you know it.”

  She smiles softly, tenderly, and with a small breath. “I know and I’ll try.”

  “That’s all I ask, Lola.” And it’s true. I don’t need her to give me everything, I just need her guard down enough that I can seize the rest. I won’t hurt her, but we’ll never get to where she’ll trust me if she won’t give me the chance to show her. “Good night, Tiger.”

  “Good night, Fox.”

  “Close the door behind me, yeah?”

  “I will. And, Fox, thanks…for everything tonight.”

  I leave and it feels strange. We didn’t exactly make plans for another date even though we did say we would hang out again. My mind is all over the place, as the metal door slams shut behind me with a loud whoosh. I think about all the noise she must get from being this close to the staircase. But then I remember she can’t hear so she probably hasn’t realized what a shitty apartment she has in this majorly shitty place. Then I recall our kiss and think about how I want to kiss her again. Over and over.

  Why the hell didn’t we make plans for a second date?

  Chapter 6

  Lola

  It’s three-thirty in the afternoon and I’m running out of the animal clinic. When Nick and Matt asked me if I’d like to transfer to Duality, I agreed since it’s closer to my house, although a bit farther from the clinic. Since today is orientation, I have to get there earlier, which is why I’m in such a rush.

  Breathlessly, I finally get to the bus stop and plop down on the bench and exhale when a very familiar yellow Corvette stops right in front of me. Fox rolls down his window and motions for me to get in. I do.

  We’ve been texting back and forth for the past couple weeks. He hasn’t asked me out again, which is disheartening but I know what a huge baggage it is to date me. I can’t blame the guy. But I can’t say it doesn’t hurt. Still, I don’t have many friends, so having him as a friend is better than not having him at all.

  During the last few days he’s texted me a bunch of silly jokes. Yesterday he sent me a text asking if I was “reds or stripes,” referring to the local gangs from my bad neighborhood. To which I replied with a middle finger emoji.

  The truth is, he’s not exactly what I expected him to be. He’s funny and sweet and thoughtful—he even offered to change the lightbulbs in my kitchen when I complained my landlord hadn’t done it and I couldn’t reach that high up.

  “You said you weren’t sure if you’d make it on time today. So, I thought I’d pick you up.”

  “That’s so nice of you, thank you, Fox,” I say as I fasten my seatbelt.

  “After the meeting we have about four hours to kill. Maybe we can grab something to eat and then you can change at my house and I’ll drive you back with me. What do you think?”

  Today is the soft opening of Duality. The invitation list looks more like a huge private party, but still it’s a big night and there’s even supposed to be some press coming. I was going to stick close to the club, grab something quick from a fast-food place, then change in the locker room at Duality. Fox is offering a meal and a shower.

  It’s a no-brainer. “That sounds heavenly.”

  “Great.”

  And it doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s still at the curb, his body rotated toward me so that I can see his lips, which is so unbelievably thoughtful. He changes shifts and we roar off to Duality. I’ve seen all the ads around town but this is the first time I’ve seen the club. Honestly, I’m not impressed. It looks like a warehouse in the middle of downtown Miami. I look at him and shrug. “Wait until you see the inside.” He parks his car and we head into the club.

  “Just a warning. In there, I’m one of your bosses. You can’t try to attack me. No sexual advances, okay?”

  I stare at him, my mouth wide open and then we both start laughing. I hate laughing because I know I sound like some sort of seal. My tone and my volume are probably embarrassing him right now so I take a breath and swipe the tears under my eyes. “I’ll try not to throw myself at you.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be hard. But I have faith in you.”

  The new staff, some from Panic and some brand-new, are all sitting around waiting. Fox heads straight to Nick and Matt and two other men at the front of the large room. They shake hands and pat one another’s backs while I go sit with a few other members of the Panic staff. A couple of colleagues smile and wave at me; I shyly wave back. I know everyone just assumes I’m really shy so they tolerate my standoffishness.

  Or…maybe they talk about me behind my back.

  I see everyone’s heads snap to the front, so I do the same. Nick is clapping in order to get everyone’s attention. I’m sitting a bit too far off to see exactly what Nick is saying, so I have to squint.

  That’s when Fox interrupts Nick.

  “I don’t think the folks in the back can hear you.” He grabs a fe
w barstools and moves them around. Then he pointedly crooks his finger at me to sit at one, which happens to be so close to Nick, it’s just awkward. I try not to narrow my eyes at Fox when I have to move the seat a bit back. A few others, who were probably just fine where they were sitting, are also moved to the front, and then Nick starts again. It’s nice that Fox is trying to help, but it’s not what I need. I’ve been taking care of myself just fine my whole life, I don’t need him coming in and moving things around to accommodate me. Plus, he’s drawing attention to me, and I like to blend in. I’m not like him. I mean, hiring an interpreter would have been less obvious. He might like the limelight but I like the shadows.

  Nick explains the concept of Duality, which I’m familiar with since Fox told me about it. The top floor is basically a risqué semi-nude nightclub and the bottom is similar to Panic. Then Matt says a few welcoming words and we’re introduced to David, one of the co-owners. I’ve seen David at Panic before and I know he’s very good friends with Matt and Nick. The rumor is that he and his wife just recently moved to the States from France. I don’t know the entire story but he seems nice and, according to Matt’s speech, David will be taking the reins at Duality together with Fox.

  When it’s Fox’s turn to say a few words, I realize how commanding he is. It’s not just his large frame, it’s everything about him. I bet he has a loud baritone voice. Since I did hear for seventeen years of my life, I do remember sounds. I miss it so much and I often wonder if it’s worse to be able to hear only to have it ripped away. Maybe it would’ve been better to have been born deaf and oblivious to the sounds people take for granted every day like that annoying drip from the faucet or waves crashing or the cooing of a newborn baby. In this case, Fox’s voice. Oh, how I wish I knew the sound of his voice.

  I can tell that his speech is assertive but friendly by his mannerisms and the way his mouth moves and his body shifts. My favorite part, though, is when he offers up that intoxicating smile—I think it’s what ultimately draws people to him. Even with his bulky arms crossed and his legs spread apart in that “bouncer” stance, he seems at ease because of that smile.

  This is a casual meeting but Fox doesn’t do casual like the rest of humanity—at least in terms of his attire. He exudes cool at all times. Today he’s wearing a navy blue lumberjack-looking shirt with suede patches on the elbows, which is almost nerdy but not on him. The sleeves are rolled up and he left three buttons open, so not only are his tattoos visible, but so is his silver chest chair. It’s not an overbearing amount but enough that it makes me curious to see the rest. He’s paired the shirt with dark jeans and leather shoes that match those nerdy-yet-sexy-looking suede patches on the elbows of the shirt. His beard is trimmed and his hair is slicked back, short on the sides and longer on top.

  God, he’s sexy in a man’s man sort of way. Then I realize I’ve been caught staring when the girl next to me pokes me in my ribs with her elbow and wags her eyebrows up and down. I’m sure she said something but I didn’t catch it.

  I’m biting my nails by the time they introduce Iggy. I hope no one else caught me staring at Fox. How embarrassing.

  Iggy, I haven’t met before. But it seems only good-looking men can manage and/or own nightclubs because this Iggy guy is hot too. Not in the same way Fox is hot, though. Apparently, Iggy is a silent partner and won’t be around much, but they wanted us to meet him, just in case we happen to see him around. After that they talk about the uniforms, the registers and all the boring human resource matters. Finally, we go on a tour of the enormous nightclub.

  I was wrong about this warehouse. Very, very wrong.

  This place is not only double the size of Panic, it is beautiful and elegant and opulent in a different sort of way than Panic. There are modern touches combined with that Miami glam and I can’t wait to see it at night with all the lights on. There’s no way this place isn’t going to be a hit. Everything is over-the-top and top of the line. Nothing was spared, from the elaborate chandeliers to the funky-looking mirrors in the bathrooms.

  The first floor, where we had the meeting, the one that they call the “vanilla” floor is entirely white, but not like Fox’s house. Not boring white. Glitzy, gaudy white. White marble floors, white quartz bar tops, even all the art on the wall is white. When I’m in the dark with the strobe lights on, the vibe will be different, but right now it’s just a lot of white. The top floor is the opposite. It’s all dark and smoky looking with black furniture and some hints of gray. Even the crystals hanging off the chandeliers look like huge shiny onyx gems cascading down. It’s decadent.

  It’s Duality.

  Once the meeting is over and the staff starts to exit, Fox signals for me to give him five minutes as he talks a bit longer with the owners. When he’s done, we walk together to his car.

  “Whatcha think?” he asks once we’re in the car.

  “Wow.” Because there are really no other words to describe Duality.

  “Told you. It’s going to be amazing. I can’t wait to see this grow.”

  I smile at his excitement. “Matt and Nick are great—plus they’re really loyal. If you do well, I bet they’ll promote you or take you with them to their next location.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping. I want this, Lola. This is what I’m meant to be doing, right?”

  “Are you asking me or are you telling me?” I laugh but there’s something in the way he’s just said that, as if he’s actually seeking validation. It’s sincere and genuine and makes me realize that maybe he’s not as self-confident and cocky as I initially thought.

  “No, I’m telling you.” He smiles but it’s not a smile I’ve seen before. The man with the thousand smiles, I think to myself. This one is vulnerable-looking. Not as uninhibited as my favorite smile, instead it’s softer and his eyes are wide as if he’s expecting something from me. An argument, maybe? Or for me to disagree? I’m not quite sure, but he continues. “I think this is it. I’m psyched about this opportunity.”

  “That’s awesome, Fox. You looked like you belonged up there with the rest of the guys today. If anyone can do it, I’m sure you can. You’re always at the club, they must see how dedicated you are.”

  “I hope so, but speaking of the rest of the guys…were you checking me out?” He turns around and starts up the car with a little knowing smirk.

  “No. I was glaring at you for moving all the chairs around and then having me sit dead center in front of the room.”

  “I was trying to help. I’m sure you couldn’t read his lips from where you were.”

  “I was fine where I was.”

  “You were squinting.”

  “Oh my God. You are crazy, you know that? I was not squinting. I’ve been reading people’s lips and doing just fine, thank you very much, for seven years.”

  “But wasn’t it better where I sat you?”

  Arg!

  He looks at me with genuine confusion.

  “We go on one date, if it was even a date, and now you’re moving things around for me.” I’m actually getting truly upset now.

  “Wait? You’re mad? For real, you’re upset? I helped you out and you’re mad?” His face is stone. I haven’t seen this side of him before. It’s that bouncer, I-don’t-take-shit-from-anyone look. The sexy smile has evaporated and it’s replaced by an emotionless stare.

  “I wasn’t mad,” I say indignantly, crossing my arms over my chest. “I mean I was annoyed, then I thought it was sweet, kind of. But now that I’m bringing it up and you’re brushing it off as if I’m being the crazy one, yeah, now I’m pissed.”

  He runs his palm over his face and lets out a breath. “So, let me get this straight. You say no to dates so you can’t get rejected. You don’t accept help, including car rides home, because you don’t want to ask for help. You don’t tell anyone you’re deaf because you don’t wan
t to be seen as weak. Who the fuck hurt you so bad that you have to be on guard all the damn time? I thought you were going to try to let me in.”

  I know my eyes are huge right now. I can’t believe he’s saying all this to me. “What?”

  “You don’t give people the opportunity to be your friend.” Ouch. That stings. “Sorry. That was harsh.”

  “I just don’t know how people will react. I don’t want people to feel bad for me or feel as if they have to accommodate me somehow. It’s almost like I feel as if by staying away I’m doing them a favor so that they don’t have to deal with me.”

  “That’s just sad. And pathetic.”

  “Jesus, thanks a lot.”

  He shakes his head and smirks. “How about you let people decide on their own whether they like you or not, or whether they want to be your friend or not, instead of deciding for them by ostracizing yourself first. You may be surprised at how nice some people are.”

  “Says the guy who’s never been made fun of.”

  “You think everyone you’ll ever meet will be a dick to you?”

  “Well when you say it that way…”

  “Exactly. So why not try to make friends and stop hiding your hearing impairment from everyone?”

  I let out a deep breath. “Maybe you’re right.”

  “It does happen on occasion.” He smirks again, the sonofabitch. “I like you, Lola. I can’t help it that I want to make things easier for you. I’m sorry that me moving you to the front offended you but it wasn’t meant to. I don’t think you’re weak. Not at all. But I’m going to do that sort of shit. I’m going to open the door for you and I’ll carry heavy shit around. But I’ll also leave the toilet seat up and forget to change the toilet paper.”

  I lean forward and let my head fall against the dashboard and thump it a few times. “I’m such an asshole.” I sigh before sitting back up. “Thank you for moving me up. That was a nice thing to do and you’re right. About everything you said. I’m just not used to letting other people do things for me.” I stop and fiddle with my hair before continuing. “I had a boyfriend. We were very much in love, or so I thought. I was wrong. I was with him when I got sick and lost my hearing. When things got tough, which was almost immediately, he dumped me.”