Shaken Not Stirred (Mixology) (11 page)

I took a bite. He made them medium rare. My
favorite. “This is delicious.”

“Good, I’m glad you like it.” He smiled,
proud of himself.

“I’m glad you asked me out again.”

“Me too. And I’m even more glad you said
yes.” He set aside his fork. “I’ve been thinking about you a
lot.”

I sipped my water. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re a hard girl to get out of your
head.”

“You’re not that easy to forget either.” I
remembered one of the dreams I’d had about him recently and willed
myself not to blush.

“Oh? Glad I left an impression.”

I smiled. “You left an impression.”

“So did you.”

“Enough of an impression that you didn’t
call…”

“I’m sorry about that. I plan to make it up
to you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s a long-term plan, so get ready
for it.”

“Oh? It’s the kind of thing I need to prepare
for?” I took another bite, hungrier than I’d realized.

“Not prepare for…just wait in
expectation.”

I laughed. “I have high expectations.”

We cleared the table together, and I dried
while he washed the dishes.

“Thanks for dinner. This was fun.” I waited
while he put the last of the dishes into the dishwasher.

“You’re welcome, but you don’t have to leave
yet, do you?”

“I don’t know. I was kind of counting on you
to drive me home.”

He dried off his hands on a dish towel. “I
plan on driving you home. The question is whether you have time for
a movie first.”

“That depends on the movie.”

“I figured we’d order one.”

“Wow, big spender.” We could barely pay the
cable bill.

He reached over and took my hand. “We could
go out to a movie instead, but I have a nice setup here.”

“Wait. Do you have a home theater?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. We’re staying in.” I was a bit of a
home theater enthusiast. I blame my cousin Tim for this particular
interest. He owned a theater installation company, and he was my
favorite cousin. I admit to spending more than a few Saturdays
leaning about subwoofers and impedance.

He led me down a hallway and a flight of
stairs. He pushed open the door to a room with a giant screen and
nine extra comfy-looking seats.

“Wow. This is nice.”

“I’ve never used it. I double-checked that
everything worked right before you got here.”

“You’ve never used it? How long have you
lived here?”

“A year now.”

I finished surveying the room. Framed movie
posters from the sixties lined the walls. “You really do work too
much.”

“To be fair, I’ve watched movies on the TV
upstairs. This room is excessive if it’s just me.”

My eyes zeroed in on an old
Dr. No
poster. My dad had gotten me into the classic Bond movies when I
was a kid, and admittedly, Sean Connery was hot when he was
younger. “Well, I’m glad I can be part of your inaugural use.”

He grabbed a couple of remotes while I
decided on a seat. I chose one of the seats in the second row.

“You’re a ‘middle of the theater’ person
too?” He sat down next to me.

“Yeah, although any seat would be great
here.”

“I agree.”

We settled on a movie—a new comedy—one I’d
never heard of, and he started it.

A few minutes into the movie, Colin put his
arm around me, and I snuggled into his side. There was something
natural about it, as though it was something I did all the time. I
fit well there, and if I had any say in it, I’d be doing it
often.

I glanced over at him as the credits started
to roll and caught him staring.

“What?”

“I’m debating whether to push my luck.”

“Push it.” I hoped pushing his luck involved
his lips—and mine.

He chuckled. “Okay. I will. Any chance we can
make this a weekly thing? A Tuesday night movie date night.”

“That is pushing your luck.” No lips, but the
promise of them another time…

“Is that a no?”

“That depends.” I could play coy when I
wanted to.

“On?”

“What movies you pick.”

“How about you choose next time?”

“It’s a deal, but let’s take it one week at a
time.” I glanced at my watch. “Wow, it’s getting late.”

“I guess it is.”

He moved his arm from around me slowly, and
unless I was imagining it, he wasn’t too happy to be doing it.

I stretched. Sitting in the same position for
a few hours left me stiff.

“You okay?” He watched me carefully.

“Yeah. I’m great.”

“Good.” He took my hand again, and we walked
back upstairs. He grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone as we walked
out to his car. “I don’t feel like saying goodnight.”

“Me either.” I ran a hand down his arm. “At
least we have the drive.”

“It’s not long enough.” He held open my door,
and I slipped in.

I waited until he came around to his side.
“Maybe if I leave you wanting more, you’ll call me sooner this
time.”

“Low blow, but I deserve it. We already have
a date for next Tuesday.”

“That we do.”

“I’d love to see you sooner.”

“Yeah?”

“Much sooner.” He pulled out of his driveway.
“As in tomorrow night.”

I pretended to mull it over as he drove. “I
don’t know. I might have plans.”

“Planning on swinging with a married
couple?”

“It’s not swinging because I’m not bringing
anyone into it.”

“That’s true. I’ll be upfront here. I’m not
interested in that.”

“Really?” I put a hand on his shoulder. “I
would have thought switching partners was your thing.”

“Why? I’m not a bartender.”

I punched his arm playfully. “So nice.”

“You’re the one telling me you’re too busy to
go out with me tomorrow night.”

“What would we be doing?” Not that I really
cared. I was all about seeing Colin again.

“I don’t know yet.” He slowed down, and I
knew he was doing it to prolong the ride.

“Way to plan ahead.”

“It’s going to be good though. So good.”

“Is this one of those things I’m supposed to
have high expectations for?”

“Yes. Definitely.” He pulled into my parking
lot.

“I’m free.”

“Yeah? That’s convenient.” He unbuckled his
seatbelt.

“Very.” I unbuckled mine, uninterested in
getting out of the car.

“I think I need to build up those
expectations.” He leaned over the center console and crushed his
lips against mine. I responded immediately, loving the way his lips
felt and wanting more. He pushed his way into my mouth, and I
eagerly welcomed him. Cinnamon and desire mixed as he intensified
the kiss. I needed to be closer, and I pressed my body against his.
It wasn’t close enough, and he lifted me over onto his lap.

My arms wrapped around his neck as his hands
slid down my back. I wanted him. Right there in the parking lot
with the top down on his convertible. It was like I was sixteen
again with hormones controlling everything. God knows what would
have happened if I hadn’t leaned back into the horn.

“Whoa…” I started to move off his lap.

He braced his hands on my hips, stilling me.
“I think we set expectations too high. I don’t want to wait until
tomorrow.”

I broke free, moving to my side of the car.
“Remember what I said. I’m going to leave you wanting more.” I got
out of the car, pausing to glance back at him.

He groaned. “You’re mean, but I deserve it.
Sleep well, Maddy. Tomorrow night can’t come soon enough.” He sat
there while I walked inside.

I mustered every ounce of resistance to stop
myself from running back to invite him up.

Free time gets old. When you don’t have it,
it seems like the ultimate prize. You dream about the things you’d
do, and how nice it would be to veg out. The truth is, when you
have it, you don’t want it. You get bored, you get antsy, and it
leaves open the possibility of developing very weird and
unproductive habits—like an addiction to watching old school 90210
reruns. Sometimes I’d think that I should have been a child of the
eighties. I should have gone to high school in the early nineties,
listened to grunge music, and watched MTV when people cared about
the videos. My parents had me fifteen years too late.

“When’s lover boy getting here?” Brody busied
himself in the kitchen. He was always trying out new recipes.
Working at the Grille was far from his dream job, but he tried to
view it as a stepping stone to something better.

“Colin’s picking me up at seven.”

“Where’s he taking you?” Brody offered me a
taste of some sort of sauce he was working on. Buttery and warm, it
was all over good.

“I’m not sure.”

“He’s getting mysterious on you already?”

“I guess so. I’m usually not one for
surprises, but I’m kind of feeling it tonight.” I resisted the urge
to ask for another taste. Brody really knew how to cook.

“Feeling it, huh? Does that mean Colin’s
getting lucky?”

“I guess that depends on how good the
surprise is.”

Brody chuckled. “You’re something else,
Maddy.”

“Am I?”

“Uh-huh. When Macon told me his little friend
from home was moving in, I was expecting spoiled Prada girl.”

“Why? Charlottesville isn’t that
wealthy.”

“It is compared to Augusta. Besides, I knew
you were a Delta Mu. At my school, that house was full of rich
girls.”

“How’d you know what sorority I was in?” I
pushed his blatant stereotyping of my house aside. I was guilty of
the same thing when it came to frats.

“I may have done some research.”

“Seriously? Does that make you a
stalker?”

He laughed hard enough to spill some water
down his white t-shirt. “No. I just like to know what I’m in
for.”

“I didn’t look you up.”

“You took Macon’s word that I wasn’t an ax
murderer?”

“Yes, I guess I didn’t even think about it.
Maybe I trust Macon too much.”

“What’s the story there?” He stirred the
sauce.

“With Macon?”

“Yeah. I don’t get it. I’ve known plenty of
guys and girls who are friends, but I get this vibe there’s
history.”

“We made out once when we were drunk. It
sucked.”

He laughed again. “Really? And here I thought
Macon was the ladies’ man.”

“He is…or usually is. I guess it was a sign
we weren’t supposed to be doing that with each other. Now we joke
about wanting to sleep together. It’s perfectly normal and
healthy.”

“If I didn’t know you guys, I’d say it
wasn’t, but with you, it seems to work.”

I shrugged. “I can’t afford to lose him as a
friend. I need him.” Wow, I’d never admitted that out loud. It was
a vulnerability I wasn’t sure I liked. Needing people could be
dangerous.

“Want to know a secret?” Brody placed his
empty glass in the dishwasher.

“Sure.”

“He needs you too. He’s been happier since
you moved in.”

“Yeah? Was he ever not happy?” I felt
slightly guilty talking about Macon when he wasn’t there, but I
couldn’t deny the curiosity. Macon was always the upbeat one.

“You’re not the only one here to run away. He
took the rejection worse than he’s playing off.”

“Wait, what are you talking about?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” Worry set in.

“Shit. Forget I said anything.”

“No. Now you have to tell me.”

Brody sighed. “His uncle said he didn’t think
he was the right fit for the company.”

“What?” My jaw was probably on the floor.
“Who is the ‘right fit’?”

“I don’t remember her name. Some woman who
goes by initials.”

“AJ? Was it AJ?” He turned down the heat and
covered the sauce.

“Yes.”

“That’s this brat who’s worked there for a
few years. Geez. Poor Macon. I can’t believe he never told me.”
Macon had complained about AJ more than a few times, but I doubt he
ever considered she’d be actual competition.

“Don’t tell him I told you.”

“I won’t.” How could he have kept that from
me? He had to have had his reasons, so for his sake, I decided to
let it go. He was a super smart guy and loved by everyone. He’d
probably be better off working somewhere else anyway.

“Good. Well, I need to get ready for work.
Have fun on your date, whatever it is you do.”

“Thanks. I hope work’s decent.”

“Thanks.” He cast a glance back before
walking into his room.

***

“Where are we going?” I asked as Colin slowed
down. I’d thought over every possible place he could be taking me,
but nothing seemed to fit.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”
He turned on the headlights. The days were already getting shorter.
I loved fall, but I missed the long days of summer.

“Then when are you going to tell me?” I
leaned back against the leather seat of his car.

“I’m not going to. You’ll see it for
yourself.”

“Are we almost there?”

“Are you always this hard on guys who want to
impress you?”

“There haven’t been many guys trying to
impress me.”

“Somehow I find that hard to believe.” He put
his hand on my bare leg like it was something he did every day.

“It’s not that I haven’t dated. I have.
Plenty. But the usual guys I attract aren’t worried about
impressing me.”

“Why not? Did you kick them to the curb
before they had the chance?”

“No. They didn’t care enough. I’ve never had
trouble getting a date—but I don’t think I’ve ever been someone
anyone was concerned with keeping around.” The mini speech was far
more personal than I intended it to be.

“I know the feeling.” Four words said more
than one hundred could. I loved how he did that sometimes. He spoke
so simply, but so meaningfully.

“That surprises me.”

“It shouldn’t, but I suppose I should be
flattered if it does. It doesn’t matter though. I’m glad I have the
opportunity to try to impress you. I want to keep you around.”