A Hard Place to Breathe

by Barbara C. Doyle

  I barely knew the guy, yet he came to my rescue when he didn’t need to. He made his intentions clear. He wanted to date me. He wanted to know me.

  Nobody wanted to know. I wouldn’t let them.

  And Ezra never pushed, not even when I wanted him to. These other guys? They wanted in my pants. Some weren’t as aggressive about it as the last two had been, but I guess that was what rejection made people do. It turned them into assholes.

  I had to admit to myself that Ezra was going to be the person who saved me, even if I didn’t want to be. The truth was, everybody needed to be saved at one point or another in their lives. I guess it was just my turn.

  It was Saturday afternoon when Ezra showed up with a smile on his face and his truck keys in his hand. He didn’t come into the apartment when I offered, which made me wonder what he was up to.

  “We’re going on a date.”

  I stared at him. “Like right now?”

  Weren’t dates supposed to be at night?

  “Yes. Right now. Go get your jacket.”

  “And you won’t come in?”

  He shook his head. “I’m here to pick up my date at her doorstep, just like I’ll drop you off. If I come in, it’s like I’m asking for something else.”

  “But…you’ve already been in here.”

  “Not during a date though.”

  I sighed. “This is confusing.”

  He chuckled. “Just get your jacket. I’ll wait.”

  I looked down at my outfit. I was wearing tight black skinny jeans that had slits down the front of my thighs, and a baggy pink blouse that did nothing for my figure. I was wearing sock with pigs on them for crying out loud! I was not wearing date clothes.

  “Don’t you think about changing,” he said. “I think those socks even make the outfit.”

  My face burned. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

  He grinned. “Good, I was aiming to surprise you. Now go get a jacket so we can make our reservations.”

  “You made reservations?”

  He smiled and didn’t say anything, waiting for me to do as he asked. When I realized he wasn’t going to tell me where we were going, I trudged back into my room and grabbed a pair of warm boots. They were black, shin-high, and had fur lining the tops. Mom and dad always said they were more slippers than outerwear, but I loved them.

  I grabbed my purse as I made my way back to the door, and shot a text to Tara saying I was going out. She had left early this morning saying she had some errands she had to run, but wouldn’t tell me what. She was being sketchy lately, but wasn’t opening up about it. I was tempted to follow her, since it was the third time this week that she left without much to say. But I was lazy, and if I had I would have missed whatever Ezra had planned for us.

  I was actually…excited.

  When my jacket was zipped up and purse was draped on my shoulder, Ezra offered me his arm.

  I giggled and took it, letting him guide me toward the stairs.

  “Nice boots,” he mused, looking at the fur.

  “They’re toasty.”

  “What poor animal was skinned to make them?”

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s fake. What are you a member of Peta?”

  He snorted. “Definitely not.”

  “So…where we going?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “Are dates always full of surprises?”

  He tapped my nose. “Just dates with me.”

  I smiled to myself.

  He opened the front door for me and then rushed ahead of me to open the passenger side door of his truck. I climbed in and smiled at him as a thanks, but he didn’t close the door.

  Nope. Instead, he opted to buckle me in like he did when he took me to the hospital, as if I still wasn’t capable to buckle my own seatbelt.

  The back of his hand brushed against my breast as he straightened out the twisted belt across my chest. I couldn’t help but notice his eyes darken after the touch, but he didn’t say anything and neither did I. Mostly because I didn’t want him saying anything about how I reacted to it, which wasn’t graceful. I sucked in a small gasp and felt my nipple harder.

  Normally, I wouldn’t be embarrassed over something like that. But with Ezra I was. I didn’t like people knowing they had an effect on me. That put them in control if they really wanted it, and I didn’t like losing control to anybody.

  Once he knew I was safely in my seat, he closed my door and hurried over to the other side, jumping in the driver’s seat before I could really blink.

  “So tell me,” he said, pulling out of our driveway and onto the main road. “What’s your favorite color?”

  I looked at him. “Why do you want to know my favorite color?”

  He chuckled like the question was amusing. “It’s our first date, Ashley. I’m asking you first date questions to get to know you better.”

  I nodded slowly. “And knowing my favorite color will be useful to understand the inner workings of my mind and soul?”

  He tipped his head back and laughed. “No, I guess not. But flatter me anyway.”

  “It’s a tie between purple and orange.”

  “Really? I would have guessed blue.”

  “Why blue?”

  “Your room has a blue color scheme,” he answered casually. “I noticed quite a bit of purple in there too, so guess purple shouldn’t be a surprise to me. But orange? I didn’t see any orange in there.”

  I giggled. “Just because I don’t have any orange in my room doesn’t mean it can’t be my favorite color. In fact, I don’t think I own anything orange except neon orange nail polish.”

  “Neon orange, huh?”

  I nodded. “It’s the best color of orange.”

  “If you say so,” he mused.

  “What is your favorite color?”

  He didn’t hesitate to answer, “Black.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Black isn’t a color. It’s so…blah. Why black?”

  He shrugged. “I own mostly black stuff. I just like how plain and simple it is. It goes with everything, so limited effort needs to be put in for matching or worrying about finding similar items.”

  “Effortless,” I murmured, not meaning to say it out loud.

  “What?”

  My cheeks heated up. “If there is one word I think of when I think of you it’s effortless.”

  “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not,” he admitted, slowing for a red light. “I mean if you said the one word was “hot” or “sexy as hell” then I’d totally agree.”

  “Sexy as hell is three words,” I pointed out.

  “Not if you say them fast to make it sound like one word,” he countered, saying it again only quicker. “See? It’s like I’m so sexy it changes language itself.”

  I snorted. “If you say so.”

  “So why do you think of effortless?”

  I shifted so my body was angled toward him. “I thought it first when you came over and had pizza with me. You looked like you just got out of the shower and your hair was kinda messy, but it worked for you. You have this…vibe around you that seems so casual. It’s like you put minimum effort into trying to look the way you do.”

  “And how do I look to you, Ashley?”

  “Hot,” I admitted.

  He smirked. “I knew you thought I was hot.”

  “Don’t get all big-headed on me,” I replied, shaking my head. “Like you don’t know you’re attractive anyway.”

  He shrugged. “I’m well aware of how awesome sauce I am. Extra sauce on the side. And you know that you’re the same.”

  “I’m not denying it.”

  “And you say I’m big-headed.”

  I stuck out my tongue at him.

  “Beautiful,” he said randomly.

  I stared at him in confusion.

  “That’s the word I think of when I think of you.”

  I blushed.

  “Actually, I think fucking beautiful,” he added, going through th
e intersection that led to the other side of town. “First time you opened the door and I saw you it was like an instant hard-on.”

  My jaw dropped in shock. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “Like you don’t know what you do to men,” he countered matter-of-factly.

  “Well…yeah,” I stuttered. “But they’ve never really said anything like that to me. I mean they talk dirty to me when we’re—”

  “I’m going to stop you right there,” he said quickly. He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to hear about what those guys did or said to you, Ash. Want to know why?”

  My cheeks reddened. “Because we’re on a date?”

  “That’s part of it,” he replied. “The other part is that I hate the idea of another guy having his hands on you. In fact, it pisses me off.”

  It did?

  “I swear, Ashley. Ever since I met you, you did something to me. I’m not lying when I said I thought you were fucking beautiful when I first met you. Even when you were clearly still half asleep and your hair was a mess from bedhead, there was something about those green eyes of yours. I’m a sucker for green eyes.”

  “So you like me because of my eyes?”

  “I like you because you’re different,” he corrected. “But yes, I love those damn eyes of yours. You just…I think we’re pretty similar. Clearly, we’ve both got some shit to deal with from our pasts. We said no talking about our demons, but I’m determined to change that deal. I want to know you, Ashley. That means knowing everything that makes you who you are, including what you’re hiding inside.”

  I just stared at him.

  “I’m not perfect by any means. I’ve done shit that I’m not proud of, and I’ve tried burying it in the past. But the past has a funny way of coming back when you least expect it. I think trying to fight off our demons is only going to make things more complicated. Don’t you?”

  I pressed my lips together. “Maybe.”

  “So what do you say?” he asked, pulling into the parking lot of the town’s fanciest restaurant.

  “To what exactly?”

  “Let me get to know you,” he said. “All of you.”

  I gulped. “What if…” I sighed. “What if you don’t like what you learn about me, Ezra?”

  He frowned. “Is that really want you’re afraid of?”

  I shrugged, staying quiet.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Ash. If you can deal with my past, then I can deal with whatever is going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

  He unbuckled his seatbelt and reached for my hand.

  I couldn’t believe I was going to agree to let him in.

  “Then…okay.”

  He smiled at me, and then unbuckled my belt.

  “We’ll start with the small stuff.”

  “Like?”

  He gestured for me to get out of the truck. “Let’s go inside and get our table. Then we’ll talk. Sound good?”

  I smiled and followed him inside, waiting for the hostess to seat us. A pretty blond came over with a bright smile on her face, and she made it obvious she was casting it toward Ezra. I think she even made sure she had a little extra swivel to step as she guided us to our booth.

  She looked at Ezra. “I’m Mary in case you need anything.”

  He wasn’t looking at her though. He was looking at me when he answered, “We’ll be fine.”

  I glanced at the hostess, Mary, to see her frowning. When she turned back to go toward the front again she gave me a sideways glance like she was sizing me up.

  Okay then…

  I looked at him. “She was hitting on you.”

  “I’m well aware,” he mused.

  “Do girls always hit on you?”

  “Do guys always hit on you?”

  “Well I haven’t seen one come up to me yet, so…”

  “Maybe it’s because they can see we’re on a date,” he said, leaning back in the booth. We sat across from each other. “Mary obviously had high hopes for us not to be, or she didn’t care.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “I don’t detect jealousy do I?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Of course not. I just think it’s weird that somebody would hit on you while I’m sitting right here. I mean this place is known as a dating spot for students.”

  Before he could answer, our waiter came up. Thank God she was an older woman, as in wrinkly face and white hair, because it was awkward having to experience girls hitting on Ezra. Mostly because I wanted him to myself.

  After we ordered our drinks, Ezra looked through the menu, his eyes focusing on the pasta dishes.

  “I used to come here a lot with my family,” I said, looking around the room. The dining room was separated into two sections by two huge aquarium tanks full of various types of fish on one side and sharks and eels on the other.

  When my brother and I were little, we used to be in aw over how a restaurant could have sharks. Not that they were large. It just seemed beyond us at the time. I hadn’t been since a big flood hit years ago, because they ended up extending their prices.

  “This place isn’t necessarily cheap,” I told him slowly, grazing the price list on the dishes.

  He looked up from his menu. “I can afford it, Ash.”

  “I didn’t say you can’t,” I replied quietly, drifting over the seafood options on the menu. “I just don’t want you spending a lot of money on me.”

  “It’s a date. I’m supposed to.”

  “A movie would be cheaper.”

  “We wouldn’t be able to talk during a movie.”

  He had a point.

  After about five minutes, the waitress came back with my lemon water and Ezra’s sweet tea. She took our orders, grabbed our menus from us, and went back to the kitchen.

  I looked at Ezra. “So…”

  “You’re not one for small talk, are you?”

  I shook my head no.

  “It’s cute.”

  “Being awkward is cute?” I doubted. “I must be damn adorable then.”

  He chuckled. “I seem to recall when you were plenty talkative at your apartment when we were hanging out the first time. I believe you even referred to it as a ‘pre-date.’”

  I’d forgotten about that.

  “That was different,” I informed him, playing with my straw wrapper. “I wasn’t even being serious about it being a pre-date. I was just…flirting, I guess.”

  “Do you usually flirt about dating guys?”

  “No,” I admitted. “Just with you.”

  He got a cocky grin on his face.

  “Don’t let it go to your head.”

  “Too late.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Dates just make things really awkward. You have to act a certain way or say certain things. The whole getting to know you thing? I’ve never been much into it. I don’t even know who I am sometimes, so how am I supposed to describe myself to others?”

  “You don’t act like you don’t know who you are.”

  I shrugged. “Fake it ’til you make it.”

  “And for the record, you don’t have to say or act any certain way. The whole point is to just be yourself. I think you know who you are, you just don’t want to admit it.”

  Here comes Dr. Phil.

  “You sound like my father,” I groaned.

  He cringed, but smiled in amusement. “Not the best thing to hear while on a date.”

  I snorted. “I just meant that he got all weird on me about how I’ve changed since high school when he and my mom were visiting the other day. Apparently, everyone thinks I’m different. Like I’m pretending to be somebody I’m not.”

  “Are you?”

  I glared at him.

  He held up his hands in defense. “Hey, it’s a valid question. If more than one person sees it, then maybe there’s some truth to it. I only met you, so I have no bias opinion in the matter because I didn’t know you back in high school.”

  You wouldn’t have liked her.
/>   Nobody did.

  “What’s so different about you now?” he questioned.

  I wanted to say, “Everything.” I didn’t though.

  “I am much more sociable than I was back then. You know how people get when they go off to college. They experience freedom and all that.”

  “So you’re saying you were quiet back then?”

  I nodded. “Definitely. I was practically a hermit. I like being by myself now, but not like I did back then. Now I like being alone only if I have to be. I prefer being around other people.”

  “Why?”

  “Drowns out the noise,” I murmured.

  I didn’t mean to say it, but I did. And he was looking at me trying to decipher what I meant.

  I sighed. “Being alone means having time to think. When things are quiet, you’re stuck in your head. The only company you have are your thoughts, and sometimes that’s the worse company you can keep.”

  He acted like he agreed. “So being around a lot of people drowns out your thoughts?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “So that’s why you party?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Okay, next question,” he said, seeing I wasn’t going to answer the one he’d asked. “What is your favorite type of food?”

  “Anything with carbs.” The answer came quick.

  He laughed. “I like that. Anything in particular?”

  I thought about it. “I could eat pizza probably every day. There’s so much you can do to it to make it different so you don’t get sick of it. Pasta would be the next thing, and bread. Homemade bread though, not the store bought kind.”

  He nodded along. “I like a girl who can eat.”

  I smiled. “Well you’ll really like me then.”

  His smiled widened. “I think I could live off of fried chicken for the rest of my life. I’m pretty sure I have.”

  Doubtful. With that body?

  “Nobody can eat that much fried food and have a body like yours,” I told him, scoping out the way his tight black shirt was taut against his body.

  “Like what you see?”

  “Very much so.”

  “I run,” he said. “Every morning. Sometimes if the weather is bad or the sidewalks aren’t cleared off I’ll go to the campus gym.”

  That explained it.

  “Do you play sports?”