Wasted Words

by Staci Hart

I thought I might die of pride.

  He was lit up so bright by the time the song ended, and everyone clapped as he made his way over to me, grabbing me around the waist to spin me around.

  “You’re incredible,” I said, laughing as I hung onto his arms.

  “No, you just make me want to dance.” He kissed my cheek.

  It was then that I saw him, really saw him. I saw a future with him, maybe even a forever. I breathed deep, unafraid there in his arms, smiling at him like he was the only man that ever was or would be. It overwhelmed me in the best way. But I needed a minute alone to let it sink in.

  I slipped my fingers under his lapel, feeling his solid chest under my hand. “I’m going to run to the restroom, okay? Want a drink?”

  “I’ll get them,” he said with a smile, still holding me close.

  “Nah, I’m going. Look, here comes Jack. You guys hang out and I’ll grab us drinks and pee, okay?”

  He looked a little wounded, so I put on my take-no-shit face. And just when I thought I had him, he pulled out his wallet and handed me cash. “All right, but use this for the tip.”

  I made a face, and he laughed before kissing me.

  “Hurry back.”

  I smiled at him as I turned. “I will. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “I’ll be right here.”

  I walked through the ballroom, my heart so light, it could have flown away. On my way to the bathroom, I made plans in my head to fix up my lipstick, briefly panicking as I wondered if it was all smudged and smeared. But I had faith that Tyler would have told me.

  I had faith in Tyler.

  The thought hit me deep in my chest. The way I felt made it undeniably clear that I’d given him my heart, my trust. And I wasn’t afraid to give it to him.

  What I was afraid of was losing him.

  I pushed the thought away, remembering how he smiled at me, how he touched me, taking comfort in the moments we had instead of what would come.

  The bathroom was crowded with women, and after I peed, I sidled up at the mirror, digging through my clutch for my lipstick. I looked myself over, making sure I still had it together, and by some miracle, my reflection was very close to what it had been when I’d left the apartment hours before.

  I popped the cap off the tube and got to work touching up my lipstick, concentrating really hard, so hard that I didn’t see that Adrienne had stepped up next to me, not until she spoke.

  “Hey, Cam.”

  I looked over, surprised to hear my name, though I smiled when I saw her. “Adrienne! I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  She smiled back and washed her hands. “Yeah, it’s a pretty big industry event every year, so a lot of us come. Are you here with Tyler?” she asked, and uncertainty crept in, realizing I had no idea how she felt about the whole thing.

  My smile fell. “Yeah, I am. Adrienne, I’m really sorry about what happened on your date. I had no idea how he felt.”

  She shook her head, still smiling as she reached for a paper towel. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not gonna pretend like I’m not bummed, but I wasn’t attached, Cam. Not like the two of you are.”

  I sighed and capped my lipstick. “Thank you for being so graceful.”

  Her smile pulled up on one side. “Hey, it wouldn’t pay to piss off the chick who throws the best singles nights in New York, would it?”

  I laughed. “So does that mean you’re coming to the next one?”

  “Is that bartender in the Spiderman costume single? Because I would most definitely be interested in talking to him about the social injustices of arachnophobia.”

  I snorted. “Greg is definitely single, and I’m sure he’d love to see Catwoman’s whip.”

  “Then I wouldn’t miss singles night for the world.”

  “Good,” I said with a smile. “I’ll see you then.”

  “Have fun tonight. You look beautiful, by the way.”

  I blushed and waved a hand. “Not nearly as gorgeous as you. I bet you wake up like that.”

  She chuckled and headed toward the door. “Yeah, except with more drool.”

  I fell in step with her. “Whatever. I bet even your drool is sparkly and tastes like champagne.”

  That one elicited a full-blown laugh from her, which made me feel way better about everything, somehow.

  We parted ways just outside the door, and I caught sight of Tyler on the dance floor with Jim, Anne, and a handful of other people. He looked over like he knew I was there and smiled at me, sending my heart into a flutter. I waved and pointed to the bar, making my way to get us drinks.

  I was too busy looking his direction still, even though he’d already turned back to the dance floor, and as I walked around a table of hors d’oeuvres, the toe of my shoe caught on the linen. Everything moved in slow motion — the second my foot stopped, I knew what was going to happen. I pitched forward, noting the pattern on the carpet, thinking about whether or not I should drop my clutch or if I should tuck and roll. I also wondered how many people were about to see my underwear, and I spent a millisecond being glad I wore any at all.

  What? I was going to a fancy dress-up dinner with Tyler Knight. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have considered going commando, too.

  But just when I thought I was done for, I saw a pair of men’s shoes, and when a set of strong hands caught me, time started again.

  I looked up, full of adrenaline and grateful thoughts, until I saw who grabbed me.

  Kyle looked down at me, blond hair combed and shining and jaw like marble, smiling crooked as I leaned into his chest at the odd angle where he’d caught me.

  “Whoa, you okay?

  I immediately straightened up and took a step back. “I’m fine. Thanks for catching me.”

  “Hey, no problem. You look incredible, Cam.”

  I smiled tightly. “You too.” And he did. It wasn’t that he wasn’t handsome. It was that he was an asshole, which negated all hotness.

  “I didn’t know you wore contacts,” he said.

  I shrugged. “I usually don’t. Who did you bring tonight?”

  “No one — I’m here stag. Where’s Tyler?”

  “Over there with Jack. I was actually just about to get us some drinks, so—”

  “Oh, good. I was heading there myself.”

  I kept smiling like I was wearing a plastic mask. “Great.”

  We stepped over to the bar and got in line. “How’s Tyler doing? We haven’t talked since he stormed out of the bar yesterday. Is he still pissed?”

  I tried to keep my face together, though I was surprised. Not that they’d fought — I mean, I knew Kyle well enough to want to fight him every time I saw him — but that Tyler didn’t tell me.

  “I don’t know. Have you asked him?”

  He shrugged. “I texted him, but he didn’t answer. Did he mention it to you?”

  I kept my eyes on the man’s back in front of me. “No.”

  “It’s not all that weird, I guess. We were arguing about you.”

  My head whipped around. “What?”

  He was smiling, but it was a lie. “Yeah. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you. I thought you two were … close, or whatever.”

  I didn’t respond, just waited on him.

  “I’m just looking out for you, Cam. Tyler … he’s not like you. Sure, he hangs out in the bookstore, since there’s booze there, but that’s not his thing. He doesn’t like comics and the stuff you’re into. Look at him.”

  He nodded toward the dance floor where Tyler stood among the beautiful people, football players and models, sportscasters. He looked in his element. He looked like he belonged.

  “This is where he belongs,” Kyle said, as if he were reading my mind, his blue eyes ice-cold. “I’m not saying he’s not into you. I’m just trying to explain that at the end of the day, you’re not the kind of girl for him, and he’s not the kind of guy for you.”

  “And what exactly is my type?”

  We took a step closer to the bar. “
I don’t know, Cam. But Tyler’s a hero. He wants to save the girl and be the good guy. You’re a project for him. Someone to rescue from loneliness, just like you fix up people in relationships. I heard about his date with Adrienne Christie. See, that makes sense. But look around you, Cam. I saw Jess come talk to you guys. That’s Tyler. Girls like her. You’re cute and all, don’t get me wrong. But it’s only a matter of time before Tyler breaks down and finds his way back to himself. I’ve known him for years, been with him through everything, all of it. And this isn’t him.”

  “Maybe he’s changed.” I was trying to convince myself just as much as Kyle.

  He chuckled and stepped up to the bar. “Maybe. But I doubt it.”

  The bartender took his order as well as mine, and Kyle tipped as I stood there beside him, feeling like a fool for being there, a fool for listening to him, just a fool in a costume, pretending just as much as if I were dressed up as Rogue or Phoenix.

  Kyle handed the drinks to me and gave me a look full of pity and maybe a little contempt. “Just think about it, Cam. You don’t want to get hurt.” He took a sip of his drink. “Good luck with him, and everything. And try to watch your step, all right?”

  He smirked, and I squeezed the glasses, stopping myself from throwing one in his face. No whiskey deserved to be wasted on Kyle.

  I walked away, heart banging, beelining for Tyler, ready to tell him everything. I was so angry at Kyle, stupid Kyle being a stupid, meddling jackass. A flush bloomed hot on my cheeks, realizing I’d been no better at times.

  But then his words crept into my mind, and my anger twisted into shame and doubt. As much as I hated Kyle, he wasn’t wrong. I’d seen the girls Tyler dated, even met one tonight. Part of me wondered how he’d ever been with them — they were so different — and the other, louder part thought it was simple, that they were in a bracket of society that I didn’t belong to. My thoughts tripped and skipped, my eyes searching the crowd, lighting on woman after woman. So many of them were beautiful, movie star smiles and long, luscious hair. Long legs and designer dresses. And when you held me up to any of them, I fell short in more than just my height.

  I was reminded of homecoming all those years ago, when my friends dragged me to the dance and I saw Will and Kenzie crowned. I felt just as alien and separate now as I did then, watching the boy I thought I loved, who I’d given myself to, the boy who threw me away the moment I did.

  I shouldn’t have trusted Will. And as much as I wanted to trust Tyler, I realized that deep down, I doubted him still. He didn’t tell me about the fight with Kyle, maybe because part of him knew Kyle was right.

  Maybe tonight was just an illusion, something I’d made up, reading too much into his actions, his words. Maybe he wasn’t that into me at all, and I’d imagined the whole thing, just like I had with Will. Because even now, I didn’t know if Will ever really felt anything, or if it was just the misunderstanding of a girl too young to know better.

  When I found Tyler, I was close to coming unhinged, my heart pounding, thoughts galloping away like wild horses. He knew immediately that something was wrong and pulled me aside.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, cupping my cheek, searching my face.

  I tried to smile and shook my head. “Nothing,” I said, leaning into his palm, wondering what in the world to do.

  BEGGING FOR THREAD

  Tyler

  COLD DREAD RAN THROUGH ME the minute I saw her walking back to me. But she smiled at me, told me she was fine, and even though I knew it was a lie, I felt powerless. I couldn’t force her to talk to me, to be honest with me, to trust me. Didn’t matter how much I wanted her to come around. It wasn’t up to me.

  Something had happened, but she wouldn’t tell me what. It was plain to see … she’d gone from open, happy, mine, to disappearing into her thoughts, her mood shifting inward for the rest of the night. Sure, she still participated, still smiled, but it didn’t touch her eyes. She talked, laughed, but none of it came from her heart.

  The cab ride home was long and quiet, putting aside what I wanted to give her the space she wanted. Because what I wanted was to machine-gun her with questions, to make her talk to me so I could fix it. Even the physical space between us in the taxi as she leaned on her door, looking out the window, was vast.

  It was only a few feet, but she was miles away.

  My anxiety ratcheted with every second, every word left unspoken hanging between us. You know, you can feel a breakup before it happens, as if the other person’s thoughts project into every molecule, and when you breathe them in, you can read their mind.

  She took my hand when I offered it to help her out of the cab, and she didn’t let it go, not as we walked up the stairs to our apartment in silence, not until we were inside when she turned to me, eyes brimming with pain and tears.

  I reached for her, but she stepped back, shaking her head.

  My jaw clenched. “Tell me what happened, Cam.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “That’s bullshit. It matters to me.”

  “Tyler …” She looked so uncertain, her thoughts screaming through the silence.

  “I don’t know where the girl who I danced with earlier has gone. You won’t talk to me. You won’t trust me with whatever’s going on. I’ve been patient, I’ve tried to give you space and let you be, but you’ve had one foot out the door the whole time. One minute you’re up, the next you’re down. I want to be with you, and I can shoulder a lot, but you’ve got to go all in. I need to know you’re in this with me.”

  Her chin quivered, and she pursed her lips to stop it. “You’re right. This isn’t fair to you. I’ve second guessed everything, doubted everything, including myself. The anxiety, the worry … it’s driving me crazy. And so I’m driving you crazy.”

  “I want you to drive me crazy. Can’t you see that?”

  She shook her head again. “Tyler, no you don’t. This is supposed to be easy. When you fall for someone, shouldn’t it be easy? I don’t feel like we’re the same. We’re not equals.”

  My hands shook, my fists tight by my side, trying to hang on to her. “What do you want from me? I’ve done everything, everything to prove it to you, but here we are again.”

  “You’ve done everything right, but … you don’t understand. How could you? We’re too different. And the last time I felt this way, I ended up hurt. So hurt.” Her voice broke.

  I moved for her, stepping into her, and she let out a breath as I drew one, my brow low, eyes hard. She was backed against the couch, and I held her small face, tilting it up to mine. “Am I not enough for you, Cam?”

  Tears filled her eyes. “You’re too much.” The words were but a whisper.

  “So you’re just going to walk away?”

  “I don’t know what else to do.”

  I gently squeezed her jaw cupped in my palms. “You have to choose. That’s it. You don’t walk away. You let me in. You just have to choose.”

  She took a shuddering breath, her brown eyes brimming, but I saw a flicker of hope. “What if I can’t?”

  I shook my head, searching her face. “You can. You can do anything. You just have to believe in me. In us. That’s all.”

  “I want to, but—”

  “Then that’s all that matters. I need you to see that. Nothing else matters except I want you, and you want me. Tell me you want me.”

  Her breath was shallow. “I want you,” she said quietly. “But—”

  “No more buts. There’s nothing left to say.” I leaned down, my lips on a track for hers. “Don’t fight me, Cam. Don’t run away.”

  Her lids fluttered closed, forcing tears down her cheeks, and I felt her let go, felt her fall into me. I just didn’t know for how long.

  So I did the only thing I could to show her how I felt — I kissed her.

  I kissed her with all of me, heart and soul, told her with every motion, every touch, every breath that I wanted her. That she was perfect. That I was hers.


  She leaned into me, slipped her hands up my chest, under my jacket, and I pulled her close, as close as I could.

  I broke away after a moment, eyes closed, pressing my forehead to hers as we caught our breath.

  “I want you, Cam. I want your body, your heart, your soul. I’ll give you mine in exchange. But you have to choose me, right here, right now. Do you trust me?”

  “More than anyone,” she said, her voice heavy with decision and emotion.

  “Then promise me. Let this be it. Once and for all. You and me. No more uncertainty. No more questions. Just us.”

  Her eyes met mine, shining in the low light. “I promise.”

  I sighed with relief, pulling her close, leaning down to take her mouth with possession, and she sank into my arms, her body against mine, my hands at her jaw, in her hair, down her neck, the curve of her breast, her waist. I stood, taking her with me, her shoes hitting the ground, legs locking around my waist. My heart pounded, our tongues circling, lips moving together, and my hands slipped up her bare thighs to her ass, pulling her into me.

  She moaned softly, her arms squeezing tighter around my neck, and I held her close, moving toward her dim bedroom.

  I lay her down in bed, and she broke away, brown eyes big, full of fear and love.

  “I’m afraid,” she said softly, and I touched her cheek.

  “Then hold on to me. As long as we have each other, we can survive anything,” I whispered, voice faltering. “Hold on to me.”

  Her hands cupped my jaw, and as I looked down at her in the soft light, I only hoped she would.

  She kissed me and I felt her fear. I felt her worry and sadness. I felt her doubt and knew it was herself that she doubted, not me. And that somehow hurt me worse.

  But with every second, I felt those feelings slip away, felt her let herself go, forget the rest. To remember me. To be with me so wholly and fully that nothing else mattered.

  It was all that I wanted.

  Her hands slipped under my jacket again, this time pushing it over my shoulders, and I shrugged it off, tossing it away. We kissed, hips pressed together, rolling gently, savoring the feeling, the need. Her hands trembled as she untied the knot of my tie and unfastened the buttons of my shirt, and when she laid her palms against my skin, my breath caught and hips flexed, pressing her into the bed.