Page 12 of Made Over by Meredith

I clucked my tongue and folded my arms under my chest. His gaze never wavered from mine, and I didn’t like it.

Didn’t like how he seemed to want to solve me like a Rubik’s Cube.

“I deserve to get everything I want, and I do,” I said. “I set goals, and I attain them.”

He tipped his head to the side, his seriously thoughtful eyes making a circuit of my features. Eventually, he asked, “So what is it? What is it you’re trying to hide all the time?”

I stared out of the windshield at the setting sun. “Why are you so interested?”

“I like patterns and puzzles and problem solving.”

“You think I’m a problem to solve?”

“No,” he rasped rough like sandpaper. “I think you want someone to see you. I think you want someone to be interested enough to know where to look.”

I blinked. Then blinked again at the stinging in my eyes, but other than that, I didn’t dare move. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t give myself away.

I wasn’thiding, per se. Simply worried that once people saw the real me, I wouldn’t be good enough for them.

So, I kept it buried and deflected.

Once I knew my face was intact, I turned back to him. “You would’ve made a killing as a therapist.”

He cracked a smile. Barely. Then he briefly squeezed my knee before reaching into the backseat for his bags. “Thanks for today.”

“Yeah. No problem. And let me know what Celeste says when she texts you back.”

“Okay.”

“Think positive!” I reminded him as he shut his door.

And I wouldn’t analyze why I felt so churlish about the text message I knew he would receive.

Chapter 5

Aiden

Celeste had responded to my text message that night. She’d said how much she liked talking to me and that she did want to go out with me but was on a tight deadline, so she couldn’t promise when we would be able to. I immediately told her it was okay, that I understood, but… Damn.

Why did this always happen to me?

I thought Celeste was really cool. We had the same interests, and I could tell she was into me, especially with all the little ways she found to touch me at the bar. Laughing with her hand on my arm, bumping her knee against mine, tapping her index finger on the back of my hand, they were obvious signs. Weren’t they?

But what the hell did I know? Not much, according to Meredith. When she’d texted me, demanding an update, I told her Celeste and I hadn’t exchanged more than a few messages in the last week. Then Meredith sent me a bunch of eye rolling emojis, along withUnit 3: Flirty Texts and Sexting. Meet me at Callihan’s at 7 on Friday.

Which was how I found myself back in this booth for the second time in two weeks. I’d ordered myself a beer and waited for her to arrive, absently toying with my cell phone, repeatedly opening and closing my text message threads with both Celeste and Meredith, wishing one would text me anything while the other texted an order for a whiskey soda with lots of ice.

Demanding little thing. Though, truly, there was nothing little about Meredith, from her curves to her personality, everything about her was over-the-top. If I sometimes imagined what her mind-bending shape was like underneath her clothes over the last week, I chalked it up to a healthy sexual desire. I hadn’t had sex in a long time. Which was the point of this whole thing with her. She was helping me move past the friend-zone and into girlfriend territory, so I could finally have sex. Because while I knew sex and emotions weren’t mutually exclusive, I enjoyed it more when I actually cared for the woman. I couldn’t be comfortable with a stranger or some person I’d picked from an app.

Not like Meredith could.

And I don’t know why that idea bothered me so much—her playing this game where she didn’t think she deserved someone who cared enough to see who she really was.

But I couldn’t throw stones at glass houses. I was still working on my own confidence. Clearly, she was too. Though she put on a damn good front.

I accepted her drink from the bartender and brought it back to the booth I’d commandeered for the night. Facing the entrance, I had a clear view when she blew through the door, her wavy golden hair flying around her face. She was laughing at something a gray-haired man was saying to her as he held the door open for her, and I think I saw the older gentleman fall in love right then and there.

Understandable.

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