by Lea Coll
He placed the pizza box onto the island, popping it open. “Looks good.” Pulling down plates, he transferred several slices. “You want to eat outside?”
“Definitely.”
He picked up the plates. “Grab beers or whatever you want from the fridge.”
Opening the fridge, I saw that it was organized and clean. Water bottles, beer bottles, and milk were arranged in neat lines on the top shelf. “Did you want a beer?” I called.
“Yeah, but I can get it.” He was already back in the kitchen, reaching over my head to grab the beer. His smell enveloped me as I basked in the feel of his chest leaning into my body. Was he trying to drive me crazy?
I grabbed a bottle of water, edging away from him, and stepped outside.
“There are a few dark clouds over there.” He pointed over the buildings on campus. “Hopefully, it won’t rain while we eat.”
You could smell the rain, the wind picking up, fluttering the napkins he’d tucked under our plates. I sat down, suddenly uncomfortable—everything Luke and the girls said to me the other night ran through my head. Did Luke tell him? I didn’t know how often they talked.
“How’s your week been?” Sawyer asked.
“Nothing too exciting.” I shrugged, trying to eat a bite of pizza without sauce dribbling down my chin.
“Do you want me to give you money for a dress?”
I swallowed the bite of pizza I was chewing. “What? Why?”
“I’d feel bad if you had to spend money on something for me and it’s black-tie.”
“Don’t worry about it. There’s nothing I love more than dress shopping and I can pay for it.” Even though his offer to pay for my dress was sweet, it felt like something you’d do for someone who was doing you a favor. Not a real date. Or maybe I was overthinking it. “Thank you for offering.” None of my boyfriends ever paid for anything more than dinner or drinks.
He nodded. “No problem. Let me know if you change your mind.” He took a few more bites of his pizza before he spoke again. “How’s the online dating thing going?”
I wiped a napkin over my mouth. “Good. I think I’m ready to meet this guy I’ve been talking to, Nate.”
“Does Nate have a last name? Have you looked him up online?”
I shifted in my seat. “We’ve talked a lot and he seems normal. I double-checked what he’s told me online.” He was listed as a teacher and coach at the school. “No red flags, you know.”
Sawyer’s face tightened. “He could still be a serial killer.”
“True.” I placed my pizza down on my plate, taking a sip of water. “Look, Sawyer. I want a serious boyfriend. I’m putting myself out there, making an effort to get to know someone. Someone who’s hopefully as serious as I am about settling down. I know there’s risks involved in online dating, but I have to trust my judgment at some point.”
He paused with his pizza halfway to his mouth. “What do you mean? Why don’t you trust your judgment?”
My eyes shot up to his to see if he was serious. I thought everyone knew my dating history, but maybe not. “I’ve been cheated on a lot.”
“I’m sorry, Stella. I had no idea.” His hand closed over mine and he squeezed it for a second before picking up his pizza again.
“It’s no biggie.” I smiled trying to lighten the mood.
“Don’t do that,” he said quietly.
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t minimize what you went through. It’s not funny.”
“Hey, it happened to me. I know it’s not funny.” The interesting thing was, I always laughed off my cheating exes and my friends never called me out on it. I did it to cover the bone-deep hurt that it caused me. It made me feel less than worthless. If it had only happened once I could blow it off as a life experience, but three times? And I’d been engaged to Jason. I wasn’t what he wanted after all. I never was.
“I see you laugh at things sometimes, but I think you do it to cover up your true feelings.”
Ding ding. How did Sawyer see something that no one else had? My family was oblivious so that didn’t surprise me, but my friends? Why did they let me get away with it all of the time? “I do.”
“Don’t do that with me.”
“Why not?” Why did he think he was different if I couldn’t show my true self to my family or friends?
“I don’t know. It just seems wrong.”
I nodded. I still didn’t get it, but then nothing about Sawyer had been what I expected. “When every one of your boyfriends cheats on you, it’s a blow. I dated Jason during grad school. He was a little older and already working as a physical trainer, so he had interns under him. I suspected something was going on, but then I was paranoid at that point. When he proposed I relaxed. But not even a month after that, he broke it off because he’d met someone else.”
Sawyer winced. “I’m sorry, Stella. That’s shitty.”
“Yeah.” That about summed it up. “I took a break from dating for the past two years.”
“You’ll find someone.” He took a long pull of his beer. “Although, I’m not sure that online dating is the best idea.”
“We live in a small town. There are not a lot of single attractive guys who want to settle down. I need to be proactive.”
“I get that and I’m not good at meeting people either. I’m not exactly outgoing.” He took a large bite of his pizza.
I couldn’t get a read on him. Was he offering himself as an interested single guy? No, he’d said he had trouble meeting people. That’s all. We ate in silence for a few minutes but I was curious what his story was. “I told you my sad history. So when was the last time you had a girlfriend?”
He used a napkin to wipe his face before he spoke. “I dated one of the professors at Washington, but then she transferred to the University of Baltimore. She wanted to get married but I wasn’t ready.”
That surprised me. Nothing about Sawyer screamed anti-commitment. “How long did you date?”
“Two years.”
“That’s a long time. And you didn’t want to marry her?” Was he against marriage altogether or was she the wrong person? It was none of my business but I wanted to know more than anything.
“I’m not sure I was ready to marry anyone at twenty-six, but I wasn’t that upset when she left. So, I guess there’s your answer.”
“She wasn’t the right one.” The fact soothed me because for some reason, Sawyer being anti-marriage really bothered me.
He chuckled. “I don’t really believe in all of that nonsense. That there’s one right person for everyone.”
His response made me uneasy, but at the same time, I didn’t have the best experience with relationships either, so I couldn’t blame him for feeling that way. “I’m not sure I believe in anything at this point. If this dating thing doesn’t work out I plan to start a family on my own.”
“It’s that important to you?”
“It’s the most important thing to me, and I’m not going to settle for just anyone. I have options if I don’t meet the right guy.”
It wasn’t my imagination that I saw respect on his face when I told him my plan. I know he’d said I was impulsive, and I could be—about small things like parties or plans. But when it came to having a family, I had thought about it a lot.
“I think it’s great you know what you want and you have a plan to get it.”
“Thanks,” I said quietly. It was weird. Over the years, I never sought anyone’s approval. My family was completely disinterested, so the fact that Sawyer’s approval meant something to me was new. “Would it scare you if a woman you dated told you they wanted marriage and kids soon? I’m worried that I’ll scare a guy off if I tell him that, but at the same time, I don’t want to waste my time on someone who doesn’t want the same thing.”
He placed the crust of his pizza on his plate, pushing it away from him, and leaned back in his chair, letting it rock as he considered my question. “I don’t know. When I was younger, yes, b
ut now I’d appreciate the honesty.” A sense of awareness shot through me as his gaze locked onto mine. “There’s something sexy about a woman who knows what she wants and goes after it.”
I licked my suddenly very dry lips and Sawyer’s eyes dropped to catch the movement.
“Are you sure about this guy?” he asked, his voice low.
I blinked at him trying to remember what we were talking about. “What guy?”
“This online guy.” He shifted in his seat.
With Sawyer sitting in front of me, Nate didn’t seem as attractive as he had before. Nate was a profile picture on a dating site and Sawyer was a presence in my life, helping me, caring about me. Why couldn’t he be interested in me?
“Oh, I guess. He seems normal and nice. I figure if I meet him in person I’ll know if we have chemistry or not.” Sawyer tensed and I knew he worried about my safety but I wanted him to be upset that I was going out with someone else. “I’m not your sister. I’m not someone you should be worried about.”
“You’re right. You’re not my sister.” Something akin to frustration flashed in his eyes when he said that but then he quickly stood up to clear the dishes. Was he frustrated with me or the situation? I really hoped it was the situation.
I finally followed him inside, standing by the island while he rinsed the dishes and placed them into the dishwasher.
When he was done, he turned to me, leaned back on the counter, and crossed his arms over his chest. “I worry about you, that’s all.”
“Thank you.” Up until now, I knew I was physically attracted to Sawyer, but something about his concern got to me. It made my heart clench and it made me want more. I wanted him to want me. With the care he’d treated me with so far, I knew he’d be an amazing boyfriend, despite everything he’d said about not being social. I’d always been attracted to overly confident men, but there was something equally as attractive about a quiet confidence. One that Sawyer exuded just standing there. He didn’t need to boast about his muscles or his accomplishments. He proved himself every day through his actions and his words. Could I tell him how much it meant to me? Somehow, I knew this was a safe place. “I haven’t had much of that in my life.”
“What, concern for your safety?” Sawyer asked, his brows raised.
“Yeah, my parents aren’t that involved. I’ve been pretty much on my own for a while now. I don’t have an older brother and my sister never worried about me.” I was the youngest but held everything together at home.
He moved around the island, our eyes locked, and I turned to face him, as my heart rate picked up. His hand went to a piece of my hair which hung slightly in my face and hovered there like he wasn’t sure we were at the point he could be that familiar. My heart thudded so loudly in my chest, he had to hear it. In a low voice, he said, “Get used to it. Once I let someone in that’s what I do. I worry about them.” Then he tucked the hair behind my ear, the light touch of his finger on my temple sending a tingle through my whole body.
I knew what I wanted and it wasn’t a brotherly figure. All I could do was stand there, staring up at him, hoping he’d erase the inches that separated us, and kiss me. I’d never wanted anything more in my entire life. I swayed toward his body, but he suddenly stepped back and away from me. “You want to work on your course now?”
My hand a little shaky, I touched the hair he’d placed behind my ear, wanting that moment back. “Uh, yeah. Sounds good.” What was that? Did he feel the pull that I felt? And if so, would he do anything about it?
I turned, looking for my purse to pull out my laptop and notebook, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself.
“I found a few textbooks that look good,” he said as I followed him to his office. “Let me pull it up on my computer.” He sat in the black leather swivel chair behind his desk, quickly typing in his password.
I walked around his desk and leaned my hip on the corner, my eyes focused on his fingers on his mouse—long, tan, his forearm muscled. I swallowed. Everything about him was attractive.
“Here it is,” he said, glancing over at me.
I inched closer so I could see the computer. He’d pulled up several textbooks. “It’s up to you since you’ll be teaching the course, but these are affordable.”
I hesitated. Should I tell him the real issue with the textbook? Would he look at me differently? “The main thing I want is that the book has a listening option for disabled students.”
“See, you’re already thinking like a professor. Here, have a seat so you can take a look.”
He stood up and stepped back so I could take his seat. Should I let him believe that or tell him the real reason I wanted an audiobook? He’d said he’d let me in and maybe it was time I did the same. “I need it in audio too.” My voice was quiet and I wasn’t sure he’d even heard me at first.
“What?” he’d leaned forward, bracing his hands on the desk, turning his face in my direction.
I cleared my throat suddenly uncomfortable with his undivided attention. “I need the listening option; that’s why I said something.”
“You do?”
What he said next would change everything. Was I ready for him to view me differently? Would he ever see me as his equal if he knew the whole truth? If this disgusted him or made him think less of me then we couldn’t explore this chemistry between us, even if I wanted to. I was done feeling less than because of something beyond my control.
“Yeah, I have a learning disorder—dyslexia. I can’t read long texts, so I need the audio. And I don’t type my articles, I dictate everything.” This was literally my greatest shame in life. No one knew this. I hid it from my parents, my friends, my boss. I was a writer who couldn’t write.
His face was so intense. “Really? I had no idea.”
“I’ve actually never told anyone before.” I licked my suddenly dry lips. “I have ADHD too, so I have a hard time concentrating on things for long periods of time. I wasn’t diagnosed until college because my parents didn’t believe in it.”
He pushed himself off the desk, standing at his full height, looking down on me. “You’re parents didn’t believe in it? What bullshit is that?”
My face felt hot. I’d always been ashamed of their reaction to it. “They didn’t. So I really struggled in school. It was embarrassing. When I was tested for English in college, the proctor pulled me aside and asked if I’d ever been evaluated for a learning disability.”
While I talked, Sawyer crouched down in front of me, placing his hands on my bare knees to turn me in the chair until I faced him.
“That woman changed my life. With the accommodations, I got good grades for the first time in my life. I didn’t feel dumb.”
I felt his hands like a brand on my skin as he kept them there while he talked. “You’re smart, Stella. You’re a reporter and you were asked to develop this course because you impressed Neil. I saw you speak to those newspaper students. You’re inspiring. You volunteer at the library and you help out Ms. Gladys. I’m sure you do a lot more you don’t even talk about. You’re amazing. Don’t let anyone tell you different or make you feel ashamed.”
I was speechless for a minute as I looked into his determined eyes, his shoulders tense, as if what I thought about this was important to him. My own parents were ashamed of my learning disability, which was ironic, considering how little they were involved in my life growing up. The chant went through my head—Sawyer thought I was smart. Sawyer thought I was amazing. I was having a hard time reconciling that with how I’d viewed myself over the years. “Thank you, Sawyer.”
“Do you believe me?”
I couldn’t look away from the intensity in his eyes. “I believe you.” Then I shrugged. “I’m a work in progress I guess.”
“Aren’t we all?” He slowly stood up, braced his hands on the desk, and looked over his shoulder at me. “Are you ready to go over these textbooks?”
“Yeah.” I scooted my chair toward the desk again.
As he read
and summarized the content in each book, I was struck by how understanding he’d been. He was a teacher, after all, I should have known he wouldn’t look down on me.
But would my parents ever see it this way? My friends? My boss? How could I explain the depth of shame and embarrassment I’d felt? How I’d learned to hide my accommodations, never accept movie dates, or be in any situation where I’d have to sit too long or read. Could I be more open about it? Would others see me like Sawyer did, or would they think it was an excuse?
EVEN WITH THE AC IN my SUV blowing, the sun made me hot and sweaty on the hour and half drive to meet Nate and had a tension headache brewing at the base of my neck. We’d agreed to a coffee date. It was a long drive for me but I wasn’t comfortable with him knowing exactly where I lived yet. I parallel parked on the street and tried to fix my make-up in the car, swiping on another coat of mascara and lip gloss before shooting a text to Ashley, telling her who I was with and where I was meeting him. I didn’t tell her in advance because I didn’t want anyone else questioning whether this was a good idea. It was time to find out if we had chemistry or not.
When I stepped out of the car, I tried to smooth the wrinkles out of my knee-length black floral sundress. I slung my red leather tote over my shoulder and walked toward the Starbucks. If he was awful, it wouldn’t be a long date, at least. Squaring my shoulders, I opened the heavy glass door and scanned the room for a tall blond man with blue eyes. According to his profile, he was supposed to be six-foot-two.
As soon as I walked in I heard my name, “Stella?” coming from a man in the waiting area.
There was no way this man was over six feet, he might have had an inch on me and that was it. Shorter than he’d said and stocky, his blond hair was cut close to his head, face free of stubble, and no glasses. I don’t know why that bothered me, but I’d gotten used to Sawyer’s glasses and his perpetual stubble. It was hot.
I pushed thoughts of Sawyer from my head. I needed to give this guy a fair chance. We’d talked for weeks and I drove all of the way here. Holding out my hand, I asked, “Are you Nate?”