by Olive East
“I don’t think I’m aggressive enough,” I admitted.
“You aren’t,” she replied without hesitation.
“I just feel so defeated sometimes. Like I don’t even have to try and I lose.”
“Ollie, it’ll work out.” She didn’t say it patronizingly, and I appreciated it. “You’re amazing, and talented, and beautiful, and even funny sometimes.”
Not that I didn’t enjoy hearing her reassuring words and praise, but sometimes all I wanted was for the people in my life to let me be negative without trying to fix it. Maybe things would work out, maybe they wouldn’t, but I wanted to express my worry for the latter. Before I could get too lost down that track, there was Brooks.
I swear I sensed him before I even saw him.
Brooks and Boden had just turned the corner and were walking toward us. I smiled so big my cheeks strained. I couldn’t help it and I didn’t want to.
“I think that’s him,” Sadie said quietly. He was too far to hear, and if it weren’t for his height and the dog with him, she probably wouldn’t have known it was him…but I did.
All calm and collected, he leisurely made his way down the sidewalk. I would’ve thought it was impossible for someone with such long legs to move that slowly if I wasn’t watching it with my own eyes. It’s like he was doing it on purpose, making me wait for him.
Standing beside me, Sadie seemed to be having an internal mini-crisis. “Oh my goodness,” she sighed, “I can’t believe stalking him actually worked.” Then she added a “damn” under her breath just before he reached us, in appreciation for how adorably disheveled his hair looked and how his eyes sparkled even in the low light. Well, I could only assume, but who wouldn’t?
“I’m going to run away,” she whispered.
“Don’t you dare,” I warned her as I clutched her elbow. She got me into this and she couldn’t just bail now.
“Hi,” we both said creepily and in unison once Brooks was standing directly in front of us.
“Good evening, Sadie, Ollie.” We both got a nod, but I thought mine was more meaningful.
I bent down to pet Boden while Sadie reached for Brooks’s hand in an awkward why-are we-shaking-hands motion. It was a nice change to see her looking flustered and socially inept. I was nervous too, but the sight of Brooks’s fancy nerd shoes comforted me.
I could feel him watching me as Sadie tried to discuss the weather and it felt thrilling in a silly way. It was kind of necessary to see them interact so I knew I wasn’t imagining him, but at the same time I wanted him all to myself and far, far, far away from Sadie.
The dog served as a very welcome distraction while I tried to keep my heart in my chest. I heard Sadie say something about how freezing it was and how she was regretting a winter wedding, and try as he might, Brooks just didn’t know how to respond. He gave her a couple Yeahs and Oh reallys, but even they sounded pained.
Their conversation was struggling but all I could do was scratch Boden’s ears.
“Aren’t you cold, Ollie?” Brooks eventually asked.
“Not at all,” I told him as I straightened.
“Wel-l-l-l-l-l.” Sadie dragged out the word. “I’d better get home. Ollie, call me later.” She abruptly pulled me up into a hug and whispered “I mean it,” and then added, “You owe me,” before she hauled ass back to her side of the street.
All I could do was watch her retreating figure while I felt Brooks’s eyes on me.
“Since you aren’t at all cold, come walk with us.” He tilted his head and started walking immediately to further prove it was a command, not a request. After a few silent steps with me evening out my breathing, he said, “If I was clever I would’ve said something like ‘fancy meeting you here.’”
“Pretty sure that would’ve been the opposite of clever. It would’ve been cliché.” I smiled, hoping he would too.
Instead he laughed and it was even better. “Then I’m glad I didn’t say it.”
It was easy to be calm after that exchange. If someone like Brooks could replay social interactions in his mind and regret them, we really weren’t that different. Any of the ice that lingered melted away and I felt like maybe I could be myself. We fell into a comfortable stride. I had to take two steps for every one he took, but I was keeping up.
“How was your day?” he asked.
“It was a day.”
“That’s a very non-committal answer.”
“Sorry. I do that and it annoys everyone. I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “Don’t apologize.”
“How was your day?”
“It was fine. Busy. I’ve been wondering when I’d see you again. You have a habit of appearing and vanishing. It’s all very intriguing.”
“I guess I do.” I beamed at the idea and liked how it made me seem mysterious without even trying.
“Well, Boden missed you. He kept asking me when we were having you over again.”
My asshole tendencies told me to say You didn’t have me over, I forced my way in, but I managed to stop myself. “Uh-huh, and what did you tell him?”
“I told him that you’d be back, and look at that, I was right.” He nudged my arm, causing the spicy sent of his cologne to make its presence known, and smiled so brightly at me I swear a part of the sidewalk lit up. I’d never met someone who seemed so put together, but then again I wasn’t a good judge. Everyone seemed better off to me—more confident, more intelligent, more attractive. Happier.
“I can’t seem to stay away,” I said, then added, “you know, with my friend living across the street.” Why did I have to add that last part? Why couldn’t I have left it flirty and cute?
“Is that the only reason you see me? Because, from what I understand, you don’t seem to like your friends very much.”
“Yeah, I’m starting to feel like I don’t like anyone.” I inwardly cringed at my words. Normally, I tried to cover my darker tendencies, but being around Brooks still made my filter vanish and my real thoughts come out.
But to my complete and total surprise, he said, “I know the feeling.”
Thinking he was my soulmate, I asked, “Having trouble with friends, family, or coworkers?”
“Yes.”
That comment made me feel about ten percent more attracted to him.
We reached the empty lot at the end of the block and Brooks let Boden off his retractable leash. He produced a tennis ball from his jacket pocket and threw it too far for me to see where it landed in the dark lot. The sky was clear, meaning the stars were bright and plentiful, and the street light at the house next door was on, but Boden was only a blur. That had less to do with lighting and more to do with his speed, though.
Eventually I worked up the courage to speak again. “Tell me something about you.”
When the request came out it felt like victory. Not only did I manage to contribute to the conversation, but his answer would be telling. If he delved into the past and shared something personal, I’d know he was genuine.
Brooks didn’t answer for so long I worried he didn’t hear me. Did I say it out loud or in my head? He seemed singularly focused on the dog, and they quickly got into a rhythm of catch and release. I envied their effortless companionship and began to question why I was even there. I knew from past experiences that nightly walks were their thing.
“I took a dance class in college,” Brooks said.
“Wow, you dug deep there,” I shot back.
“It gets better, you didn’t let me finish,” he said while looking down to me. How could eyes be so clear?
Standing next to him, with those eyes on me, I felt so small. Not in an inconsequential way, but in a precious way.
“Oh, go on.” He handed me the slimy tennis ball and I took a turn throwing it. Boden wasn’t impressed.
“I didn’t take it until the spring semester my senior year, but I enjoyed it so much I signed up for an adult class that summer.”
“That’s adorable.” I suspected he
thought he was telling me something embarrassing. It only made me find him more endearing.
“It gets worse. There was a recital.”
“Sounds fun,” I said, meaning it, and wondering if he wore one of those tight leotards.
Boden very purposefully gave the ball to Brooks. He threw it hard and fast into the night.
“Fun? Am I going to have to start calling you on your BS now?”
“No.” I shook my head. “You’re the one who’s full of it, I am the deep one. And I meant it. An adult dance recital sounds fun.”
“It was, and I did phenomenal, but everyone else felt bad for me when they realized I had no one in the audience watching. I didn’t go back after that.”
I cursed my past self for not meeting him and going to his recital. How dare no one in his life worship his every move?
“Why didn’t you invite anyone?”
“Because I’m not going to ask one of my friends or my parents to see me dance, and I can’t imagine a worse thing to admit to a woman I’m trying to date.”
My face fell as if it was being deflated and I hoped it was too dark for him to see my expression. I had that stomach-sinking, instant-tear-inducing, rug-pulled-out feeling, so I forced a smile and a little nervous laugh while I tried to think up an excuse to turn and leave.
He had just admitted it to me.
He wasn’t interested in dating me.
He was looking for a woman, he just said it, and I was still trying to figure out the whole adult thing.
I think about things too much and too hard.
We stood in silence as he continued to play catch with the dog. All the excitement and hope I had was slipping away as things began to feel awkward and maybe even forced. Why did I ever think we could happen?
“Actually, I am really cold.” For emphasis, I made my teeth chatter a bit and rubbed my tightly constricted arms.
“Here.” He handed me Boden’s leash and began shedding his jacket. “Take my coat.”
He was only wearing a thin tan sweater under the dark corduroy coat, so he would freeze himself in a matter of minutes. “No, then you’ll be cold.”
“That’s okay. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“No, really, I should go.”
“Ollie, take my coat. I’m trying to be romantic and you’re making it very difficult.”
My head went all cloudy as I eagerly traded the leash for his coat and slid into it. It fit like a floor-length gown, but it was so warm and smelled so heavenly of Brooks. The gesture was only making me fall for him even more, and that was something I didn’t need to do. I pulled the collar up around my mouth and nose and let my hands disappear in the sleeves.
My muffled, “Thank you,” drifted out from behind the collar. My lips kissed the material that was so recently pressed against his neck.
“That’s better.” The doctor smiled and put his arm around me. I froze for a second, not certain if it was really happening, but then he pulled me closer so our bodies were flush together. My head, all on its own, rested against his chest and he said, “That’s much better.”
Chapter Nine
“Tell me more about you.” I was hoping he’d start talking about his love of craft beer like it was a completely original thing to say, or how much he loved to travel to non-touristy places like Jamaica, so I could find something about him unattractive. But, of course, he didn’t.
“Did you know Boden and I share the same birthday?”
“Nope.”
“Well, we do, and this year he bought me an expensive bottle of vodka I’d been eyeing.”
“Wow, he seems really thoughtful and generous. What’d you get him?” He ran his long fingers up and down my arm, making me forget to breathe.
“I got him a whole jar of peanut butter, just for him.”
“That’s adorable.” I closed my eyes, helping me commit the feeling to memory. I wanted to be able to lie in bed and recall his fingers on my arm. I wanted the moment for the rest of my life.
“Yeah, we share a cake and everything.”
“Now, that’s kind of sad.” I grimaced and laughed.
“April twelfth.” He gently nudged my head up with his fingers, leaving tingles where our skin touched, and I met his gaze.
“Hmm?”
“Our birthday is April twelfth. Now you’re invited and it’s not sad.”
“I’ll be there.” I knew he was joking, but I wasn’t.
“You know what I like about you?”
“No. What?” Did that mean he liked me liked me or was that just a rhetorical question?
“You’re sincere. That’s hard to come by. Trust me, I know.”
Who hurt him and how badly? He seemed so…undamaged. “I know too.”
“So, Ollie No-Middle-Name Oxmend—” He called Boden over and completely let go of me, which was an awful thing to do. When the dog shot out of the tree line and returned to us, Brooks clasped his collar to his leash. “Did you grow up around here? What’s your family like?” He began walking back without taking a pause, so I followed.
If there was one thing I really hated, it was to be asked about personal things. Or more specifically, about my family. Scorpios hate to be asked questions, and I wish I could claim that as the only reason why it made me squirm, but it was definitely part of the reason why.
I remained friends with Sadie for this long because she already knew everything. I couldn’t even imagine how hard it would be for me to break in another best friend. My issues were enough to scare anyone away without me having to actually put them all out on the line. But looking at Brooks made me realize that was what I needed—someone who didn’t know it all.
I understand Brooks, by asking me questions, was showing interest, and if I expected to hear his answers I had to be willing to give my own. And I desperately wanted to hear his answers.
“I’ve lived here my whole life.”
“And your family?”
“I’m an only child, and my mom lives in Green Tree, so she’s close. My aunts and uncles kinda live all over the place, so it means traveling to see them. And you?” Did he notice I didn’t mention my dad? Would he ask?
“I knew you were an only child.”
“No, you didn’t.” I found myself raising my eyebrows at him. Was he some kind of psychic or did he just think I was that self-centered?
“I did.” He squeezed the top of my arm and I swear his hand almost wrapped around the whole thing. “You’re mature and independent.”
Saying “Thank you” back seemed like such a bizarre thing to do, but not saying it seemed wrong too. He had my feelings all jumbled. I felt like I could be honest with him, say exactly what I wanted, but that couldn’t have been right. I needed my filter. but I was still questioning everything after I’d run it through it.
“Thanks. So what about you?” I really needed the subject to be back on him.
“I have an older sister and a younger brother. My parents live in Sewickley Heights—that’s where I grew up.”
Of course, the rich neighborhood; it seemed so fitting. I had a picture in my mind of this perfect family with the dog and three kids and nutritious dinners every night around the table. It was all very Norman Rockwell. The picture perfect life for this picture perfect man.
“Middle child. What does that say about you?”
“Psychologically? That I should have an inferiority complex and constant underlying resentment toward my siblings and probably my parents too. Not that I’ve looked into it.” The playful conspiratorial look he gave me was a masterpiece.
I shook my head. “I think it means you’re able to be fair and play the peacekeeper.”
“I like that. But don’t go asking my brother or sister about it.”
I wondered what his younger brother must be like. He was probably still older than me, even if he was younger than Brooks. God, if they looked alike I didn’t think I could handle it. I didn’t think the world could handle it. Maybe they
were brothers who were nothing alike. In fact, they had to be. No one else like Brooks could exist.
And his sister, if she looked anything like him, was probably stunning. Maybe she was married. Maybe she had kids. Was Brooks an uncle? The thought of him holding a baby made my uterus hurt even though I never considered being a mom in my future. But then, because I couldn’t only think good thoughts, I blurted out—
“Do you have any kids?” I asked just as we were coming up on his house. I knew I shocked him because he almost dropped his keys along with his jaw.
“What would make you think that? All the children running around this place?” He gestured toward the house.
“No, I just…” I suddenly felt so stupid. “Thought you’d have a wife or kids. I mean, you’re just older.”
“I’m old?” His eyebrow shot up and I wondered how weird it made me that I found it sexy.
“I said older,” I clarified.
“So older than old.”
“No.” I laughed. “Stop. But you are older than me.” We began climbing the steps to the porch while I was distracted by his hand on the small of my back. I couldn’t ignore that he hadn’t exactly answered my question. We were both quiet, but I knew the more time that passed, the more awkward it’d be to bring it up again. “So you’re not married?”
“Ollie, no, of course not.”
We halted our climbing with two steps to go.
“Sorry. I just had to ask.”
It was a need. I needed to know. Even if I couldn’t put my finger on it, something had to be wrong.
“Don’t be sorry. Unless you’re only calling me old so I’ll give you my little brother’s number.”
“What? No.” Why on earth would I want that? His hand on my back, over the three layers of clothing, was giving me hot flashes like a menopausal woman, and he thought I was trying to get the hook up with his brother? “Were you ever married?”
“No, I never married anyone.” He answered like he couldn’t believe I was asking. “You’ve spent too much time with Sadie and Aaron. In this day and age most people don’t get married until at least their late twenties. Usually older.”