Page 35 of Beautifully Used
Gabrielle harbored an image of me in that pretty mind of hers that I hated. Like I was some philanderer out looking for the next great lay. I suppose I deserved the rep, but I didn’t like it, or want it. Not anymore.
Especially not from her.
I’ll admit, I’ve used women, but not any more than they’ve used me. I’d figured it was more of a service to them than anything else, and they never seemed to mind. I’d always made sure they knew exactly where they stood with me before I ever even kissed them. Sounds a bit shallow I know, but it’s the truth. Yes, I have issues, things I don’t like to think about, let alone talk about. Nasty, unpleasant events that drove me to do the things I’ve done, and act the way I have over the past few years. I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to have a conversation about all of that just yet, but I was willing to divulge a little, just to show good faith. Maybe sharing a bit about that time in my life would help her open up to me about hers. I needed to know why she seemed to be so frightened of men. I also wondered if maybe her past had played a part in what had happened in the woods with Jeff. Made worse by the fact that the bastard didn’t know how to respect the rejection.
I decided to be as direct as possible. “If I answer your question, will you tell me why you can’t handle being touched?” From the shocked look on her face, maybe that was too direct. I don’t think I’d ever seen her eyes grow so large. My candor had her cheeks turning a pale shade of pink, and I instantly regretted my fucking insensitivity. “Sorry,” I quickly added. “That was rude and you didn’t deserve it.”
She surprised me with, “No. It’s an honest question, and… you of all people probably deserve an answer, considering… everything.” By “everything,” I assumed she meant the attack, as well as the slap she’d given me last year. But I wasn’t sure, so I stayed silent and let her continue.
She scraped one of her chopsticks against the outside of one of the rolls, removing some of the little black seeds that they’d stuck on there for some unknown reason. “I don’t dislike being touched. When I slapped you, well, you took me by surprise. That’s all.”
“That’s all?” Raising an eyebrow at that, I popped another sushi roll into my mouth, chewing while I let her continue, curious now. The thought that Gabrielle Demeres may have actually liked that kiss fleetingly floated through my mind. I didn’t want to press my luck on that one.
“I wasn’t prepared for your roaming hands. We’d just met… like two hours earlier. I wasn’t going to jump into bed with you that quickly. You had no right to do that.”
That quickly? My mind raced with sudden lust, and I had to calm myself with a stern warning to take things slowly. I was beginning to believe that maybe she had liked the kiss, after all. “You’re right. I’m sorry about that.”
“We’ve had this conversation before, and I accepted your apology then. No need to keep saying you’re sorry.”
“Well, I am. I just want you to believe it.”
She smiled. “I do.” She bit into one of the rolls and chewed reflectively. “Besides, you’re nothing like that guy I met last year.”
“Oh, believe me, I’m still the same heartless moron.”
She chuckled. “No. Something’s changed.”
She was half right. Something had changed, but I couldn’t put my finger on what exactly, and I wasn’t thrilled that the conversation had circled back to me. “Are you going to tell me about the book you wrote?” I asked quickly, wanting to take the subject off me and back to her.
She inhaled and placed the chopsticks across her plate. “Okay. It’s sort of dark and edgy. There’s this girl who goes off to college and finds a strange book in the dorm room she just moved into. Weird things begin to happen to her after she begins reading it. I got the idea my first week in San Diego. I’d been unable to sleep one night, and I found this book in the room. It was a fantasy novel, which I usually like, but this particular story seemed too unbelievable. So, out of boredom, I decided to give it a try. It was okay, but as I was reading, I kept wanting it to take a different turn, and imagined different scenarios to the ending. That’s how I came up with the idea to write my own story. Using magic as the theme, I jotted down a plotline that I thought would work. Anyway, the girl in my story had grown up in a… troubled home, and the magic in the book helps her cope with things.”
“What kind of troubled home?” I asked, wondering if the girl in the story was actually her.
She sank back against the cushions, swiping her hair back behind her. It was so long and silky I wanted to run my fingers through it. “Um… you know, the typical bad childhood, parents that didn’t give a damn, moved around a lot so friendships never stuck. Stuff like that.”
I nodded. What a generic description. Yeah, it was her. “Well, you know there’s that old saying about writing what you know, so how were you able to write about a troubled girl?”
She laughed.
“What?”
“Have you ever heard of the Internet?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Research, Brodie.” She gave me a little smirk. “While it is true, writers do like to write what they know so that when it comes to facts and how someone reacts they can make a story believable, not everything we write is real. That’s why they call it fiction.”
“Right. But how do you figure out the right emotion?”
“I don’t know. I guess the same way actors do.” She paused for a second, took one of the Edamame beans and nibbled at the tip of it, then turned it toward me as if it were a pointer. “That’s why I did that thing a few weeks ago. Remember? In the hallway?”
“Yep.” How could I forget? It was the most bizarre thing I’d ever seen. I still didn’t believe that she’d been acting. Something must have happened to Gabrielle in her past. Something horrible, I decided.
“Yeah, and then you accused me of being on drugs.” She laughed and slugged me in the shoulder.
I decided to table this conversation and move on. “I almost forgot; the band wants to practice every night until we leave next Thursday. You up for it?”
“Sure. It’ll be fun.”
