Page 26 of Courageous Demands

“Do you…”

“I think I’ll have that other beer,” he interrupted quietly. “Is it in the fridge?”

“I’ll get it,” she offered, rising to her feet. “Eat while it’s hot. I also made a tiramisu for dessert. I thought maybe you’d like something sweet.”

Amazingly, she heard his wary laugh.

“You know I’ve always had a sweet tooth.”

“I didn’t want to assume,” she replied quietly, opening the bottle for him and rejoining him at the table. “Time has a way of changing people, their outlook, and their mindset. Your mother calls it ‘maturity’. I think it’s more a reaction to various ‘cause and effect’ that occurs in each person’s life. One person might mature at age seventeen due to tragedy, while another might not mature until they are in their thirties.”

“And you?”

“I’d like to say that I believe I’m grown up,” she smiled sadly, “But life has a way of teaching you a new lesson when you least expect it. I don’t know if I’ll ever have all the answers, but I’d like to think that I am smarter now than I was when I was in high school.”

Alec didn’t say anything. He simply took a sip of his beer, looking anywhere but at her, before taking another bite of his food. It was almost like he was stalling and didn’t want to say something.

“Do you consider yourself mature?” she asked softly.

“Heck no,” he blurted out, and unbelievably, a smile slipped past that mask on his face. She saw it for all of three seconds before he went back to that stony, determined look. “I’ve been through some stuff, seen some things, and I think that drives me closer to the ‘act like a juvenile delinquent’ stage rather than making me mature.”

It was so unexpected, so brutally truthful, and just so ‘him’ – that she couldn’t help but laugh. It wasn’t a little chuckle either. No, it was a loud laugh that bounced off the walls in the silence, and he joined in.

“I’m serious,” he chuckled warily. “If you ever see me in court, it’s because I did something that I only wish I had thought of back when I was younger – and probably involves toilet humor.”

Willow laughed again, this time much more relaxed and not quite so on edge. It was like they were settling into a wary friendship between them, still on their guard but attempting the once-thought-impossible feat.

“There’s nothing wrong with toilet humor,” she chuckled, smiling at him. “I like a good joke as much as the next person.”

“That’s me, the King of Poop,” Alec paused, raising an eyebrow as she laughed once again. “… Jokes. Poop jokes. You’ve gotta let me finish my sentence. It loses something when you start cackling before I’m done.”

They both went back to eating their dinner, the silence broken by a fork scraping against the plate, as an uncomfortable yet easy atmosphere seemed to take shape around them.

“You look nice,” she murmured, not looking at him.

“You look good in blue.”

“Thank you.”

“Yup. Just straight facts.”

“This is really wonderful having…”

“Willow,” Alec interrupted quickly. “This is not what you think.”

“Two old friends having dinner together?”

“So this isn’t a ploy to try and get back together with me?”

“I don’t know that either of us is ready for a relationship,” she said carefully, knowing she was on thin ice right now and he was pushing to see what she wanted from him. “I was hoping for friendship, maybe having someone to talk to that I can trust… and I would be happy with that.”

“You don’t want more someday?”

His softly spoken statement was full of distrust, hesitancy, and wariness that was hurtful, but there was also a note of something else. Hope? Wistfulness? She met his eyes, not shying away from him but holding her ground like she had so long ago.

“I don’t think either of us is ready to let down our guards yet – nor do I plan on lying to you. I think perhaps we should attempt friendship once again before even considering anything else.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t exactly call this friendship.”

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