Page 14 of Keeping It
She shrugs. “He’s over there talking to Malena. You know when she gets her claws out, he has no choice but to reminisce with her.” Caleb and Malena have had a few passion fueled nights in the past. “Plus, everyone is talking about how Hulk was a jerk to Whit and that’s way more interesting.”
“He wasn’t a jerk,” I exclaim. “I mean, not really, anyways. Whit is incorrigible,” I hiss. High school drama as adults is one of things I wouldn’t miss about this place.
Shirley takes this opportunity to tell Tahoe about Whit’s permanent crush on me throughout high-school and beyond. On one of his breaks from Britt, he pursued me so hard I was confident Britt was going to find out and have her posse pummel my face into pulp. I almost gave in just so Whit would leave me alone. Luckily one of the other wallflowers in our graduating class ended up fooling around with him every Wednesday behind the greenhouse and he seemed to forget about me for the moment. Anytime I had a date to a school event, Whit made it clear he wasn’t happy. It was like I was choosing someone else over him and that’s something he’s not okay with. I saw it tonight. At his own engagement party. Shirley had it right, and everyone knew it.
“Whit wants the wrong things,” Tahoe says, breaking up the lull in conversation.
Shirley harrumphs, “You got that right. Maybe once they get married they’ll keep their evil contained in the confines of their marriage,” Shirley muses. “Wishful thinking, though. I’m sure he’s in the bathroom getting blown by Britt’s best friend right now.”
“This town is far more scandalous than anyone lets on,” he replies, amused by my friend’s musings.
I stay silent, in favor of playing back memories from the past.
“It is Bronze Bay, Tyler Holiday. We keep our tan secrets in the Bay water. Don’t swim here too long. You’ll never be able to scrub the dirt off,” Shirley says, winking at me. “They’re not the type of secrets that wash off with soap.”
“Deep insight, Shirley,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. Looking up at Tahoe I say, “I’m squeaky clean. Don’t worry about having to hose me off.”
Shirley and Tahoe laugh, like they’re in on some joke. “Fine,” he says, biting his lip. “I won’t hose you off…right now, but I do want to know which of the men in here are your exes.” His expression grows wary as he surveys the room.
“None of them,” I nearly bark out the words. A few people look our way, but pretend they’re not interested in what we’re talking about. “Of course none of them, I mean,” I say, keeping my voice lower.
Shirley confirms my truth. “Why are they all looking at me like they want to kill me then?” Tahoe says it with a smile on his face, gaze bouncing from one BB man to the next.
I try to see what he sees, but I can’t make out anything except the normal people who are in my life in some form or another, almost every day of my life. “They aren’t jealous because of me,” I reply. “Probably that muscle we were talking about earlier. Muscle envy.”
Tahoe raises his brow and looks between me and Shirley. “She really has no clue, huh?” He asks, when his gaze lands on Shirley.
My friend cackles. “She never has and never will. It’s part of her charm.”
“Excuse me. I am standing right here,” I say, trying and failing to pull away from Tahoe’s grasp. “Just because I don’t date around, doesn’t mean I’m completely oblivious to…male attention.”
Tahoe clears his throat. “Male attention?” Stifling a laugh, he coughs.
Shirley hits Tahoe on the shoulder. “Show her the ropes,” she says to him. To me, “I expect you to be less oblivious, and not hungover at our shift in the morning.” Then she disappears for what I’m sure is the last time tonight. She’ll be afraid of me when I clock in at the diner in the morning. Tahoe moves us closer to the door and I can’t let another second pass without telling him. “I’m not naïve. I’ve already told you I don’t have time for a relationship.”
“But you’ll make time for me?” It’s not really a question with the way he’s smiling at me. Like he’s just won the greatest victory in the history of victories.
I roll my eyes. I’m doing this. “Only because you’re good looking,” I say, lacing my fingers through his.
Chapter Seven
Tahoe
She changed into this little white dress as soon as we got back to her place. My mind is trying to decide exactly what to do with that fact. Every time she bends over, even just a little, I almost see her panties. I swallow hard as she leans to grab a book off the coffee table. It’s a book about hurricane hunters. She’s telling me something, and I can tell it’s probably important because of the way her face changes as she explains things like storm reconnaissance, and the eye wall, but all I can see is everything that is mine. Caroline agreed to be mine. My girlfriend. I haven’t even kissed her yet. Everything is progressing in the slow kind of way you’d expect in a small town. What does she expect of me? You can bet that lighting fixture was hung within the first fifteen minutes of me entering, but it’s been a long time since I’ve had to deal with things like expectations. Those are tricky things because they vary wildly from one person to the next.
“They’ll be flying out of here this hurricane season. We’re on the gulf and it’s a perfect location for them,” Caroline says. “I figured it wouldn’t bother you guys much, right?” In this moment she expects an answer.
That’s something that is easy to read. “Oh, yeah. That’s fine. We’ll stay out of their way. Got something for the hurricane hunters, huh?”
She blushes a little and puts the book down. “They fly into the center of deadly storms. It interests me. I grew up in Florida, remember? We’re in a permanent state of hurricane warning.”
“I do cool shit too, you know?” I say, voice like a petulant child. “Probably even cooler than a hurricane hunter.” I make a note to research more. I think the Air Force reservists fly as hurricane hunters, but I’m not positive.
She offers a warm, soothing smile. “No one said you weren’t cool, Tahoe. Want something to drink? I think I have a bottle of wine in my fridge.” I don’t need any more alcohol. Lucidity is my friend at the moment. It’s a small thing that will keep me grounded so I don’t make a fool of myself in this fragile moment. She could still change her mind. The window of acceptance is too new. Caroline needs a drink, though. She says things while drinking alcohol she’d never say sober—opens herself in a way that is usually off limits. I’m leaning against the wall that separates the kitchen and bedroom. “I’ll get the wine. Put on some music,” I order.
Caroline steps away from me slowly, keeping her face neutral. Rounding the table, I step into the kitchen, take a deep breath, and remind myself I wanted this. A girlfriend. Caroline. A new life. Something different. I need this change. I repeat these things over and over while I open her refrigerator to get the wine. The uneasiness stems from my absolute fuck-all knowledge on how to navigate a relationship after years of shunning them—abhorring everything they represent.
Stella barely counts because that ended badly. So, am I correct to think I didn’t do that right? Up until this point I’ve done everything to the best of my ability with regard to my career. So much so, that anything else in my life suffered. This might be the first time in my life I have the time to succeed in something other than running and gunning.
