Page 63 of Sharkbait
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Catching feelings?” She laughs. “Wow. And you said I have a healthy ego?”
“And that means you’ll never have another one-night keg stand with him, which is a real heartbreaker because who’s going to show you that kind of a good time again?”
Her jaw drops, but I keep going.
“I mean, a guy who goes on and on about the size of his lungs? Begs you to tell him about your hobbies? Then tries to sweet-talk you by comparing you to coffee grounds? Come on! How could you not mourn the loss of that?”
She cracks up. “Don’t flatter yourself, sir. I’ve got a lot on my mind right now, and not all of it involves you.”
“But some of it does?”
Her laughter quiets. “Maybe.”
“I’ll take that maybe,” I say.
I turn my back and busy myself at the bar because I’m sure I have a cheeseball grin on my face right now that I’d rather she didn’t see.
I almost don’t hear her when she says, “That night with you was fun.”
“Oh yeah?” I keep wiping down the bottles on the shelves, not ready to look at her yet.
“Yeah. The most fun I’ve had in a long time, actually. Even with your incessant blabbing.”
“Incessant blabbing?” I turn and confront the insult head-on. “Ouch.”
She laughs some more.
It’s the best sound.
“I won’t admit to being sad you’re leaving,” she says. “I am a bit surprised, though.”
“Why is that?”
“Well. The other day at the aquarium, when I said it takes me a while to get to know people?”
“Yeah?”
“You literally said ‘That’s alright. I’m not going anywhere.’”
She’s right. I did.
“So,” she continues, “call me crazy, but I thought you weren’t going anywhere.” She pauses. “I thought we had time.”
Did she just use a “we” statement?
I nod in understanding.
Her fingers trace the knotted wood of the bar top.
“Listen,” I say after a moment. “I should be more careful with my words. I’m sorry about that. And this is not an excuse, but I do think you should know—when you’re around—my brain is generally a walking, talking clusterfuck.”
“What? Really?”
“Big time. I’m a mess around you, Cold Brew. I mean, Louise. Sorry.”
Deep breath, dude. Slow down.
“Basically, I spend a full day after each of our interactions cursing myself for my motormouth and trying to conjure up some sort of self-protective filter for the future, so I’ll have my shit together if or when I run into you again—because it does seem like the universe keeps putting you on my path. Have you noticed that? So far, though, no dice. I am filter free now and forever, it seems! But—for what it’s worth—I am working on it.”
