Shaken Not Stirred (Mixology) (25 page)

His hands released my shirt and moved to my
arms. He tugged gently to make me put them down so he could hold my
hands. “You know I never would have left you sitting there if I
could have avoided it.”

“I know how hard you worked on that
project.”

“That just makes Paris more important. I
can’t fuck up again.”

“You didn’t mess up.”

“Yes, I did. I lost this.”

I sighed. “I’m too tired and drunk to do this
right now.”

“I have something for you.” He pulled a small
box from his pocket.

I opened it. “Wow. They’re beautiful.” The
diamond earrings were way over the top, but that was something else
I wasn’t up for arguing about.

“Their each half a carat.”

“Thank you.” I hugged him, deciding to hold
off on giving him the engraved journal I’d bought him. I figured it
was time for him to move on from spiral notebooks.

He took my hand. “No. Thank you. Thank you
for putting up with me for the last three months.”

“It’s late. Do you want to stay here?”

He didn’t look like he had the energy to
drive.

“Can I?”

“Do you want to sleep on the couch or squeeze
into my twin bed with me?”

He didn’t hesitate with his answer. “Your
bed.”

“Okay.” I led him into my room. I pulled back
the covers, displacing some clothes I’d left on top earlier. I
slipped in. I was already in my favorite sweats.

He undressed down to his underwear and got in
next to me.

Lying there with him, my mind raced. I knew
it was time to make a decision, and it wasn’t going to be an easy
one to make.

I put off the conversation with Colin as long
as I could. I loved the time we spent together, and I knew my
answer would change everything. Colin only got busier after the
anniversary dinner debacle. He tried to make time for me, but he
couldn’t. We barely ever had sex anymore, and I’m not even sure he
noticed. Still, he’d randomly text me and email me pictures of
Paris, and tell me how excited he was for us to have time away—I’d
never said yes, but he’d taken my non-answer to mean exactly that.
To be fair, I wasn’t making a huge effort myself. I’d checked out
after he stood me up. I was tired of always taking the backseat to
his job. I was tired of rejection, and I wanted someone who found
me important enough to put me first. As Lyle sang in one of his
songs,
A girl needs to know there’s no one else in the world but
her.

“I need to talk to you.” The words slipped
from my mouth as soon as he opened his front door. I pushed past
him, wanting as little physical contact as possible. A caress or a
kiss would only make it harder.

“About?” His eyes twinkled. He had no idea
what was coming, and that made it so much worse. It was eleven
o’clock at night, and I was pretty sure he’d just gotten home.

“The trip.”

“What about it?” He displayed the first hint
of nerves.

“I’m not coming.” My hand formed a fist. I
was so tense and nervous I wanted to be sick.

“What?” He rested a hand on the wall. “Why
not?”

“I just can’t.”

“Sure you can. We’ve been over this. It won’t
cost you anything.”

I looked down, finding it impossible to meet
his eye. “I need to stay here.”

“Why? What the hell is so important that you
have to stay?” Anger filled his voice. I’m sure his exhaustion had
something to do with it.

“Work, my friends, me.”

“You? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t want me for who I really am,
Colin. You have this idealized version of me, but it’s not me.”

“How can you even say that? Of course I know
the real you.”

“You don’t. I can tell by the way you tell
your friends that bartending is only until I find something better.
You don’t know me.”

“I know you aren’t going to spend your whole
life behind a bar.”

“But I’m also not jumping up and down to
apply for jobs either.”

“So? What does that have to do with me not
knowing you? I don’t get it.”

“You think I’m something I’m not. You’ve been
so busy working that you haven’t taken the time to figure out who I
really am.”

“Oh. So this is my fault? I’m sorry that I
work for a living. I’m sorry that I care about our future.”

“Our future? We’ve been dating a few months,
Colin. My future has nothing to do with yours.”

His mouth fell open. “You say that I haven’t
taken the time to really get to know you? Well, do you even know
yourself? Who are you, Maddy?” The anger in his voice scared me,
but it was better than hearing hurt.

“No, but that’s the whole point.”

“The whole point?”

“If I don’t know who I am, how can I commit
to you?”

He groaned. “It’s just three months. I don’t
want to spend three months apart. Do you really want to?”

“I’m not asking you to do long distance.
You’re free to date or do whatever you want.”

“So this is about more than the trip? You’re
trying to break up with me?” His anger wavered. He was scared.

I nodded, knowing that if I spoke I’d
probably start crying.

“Why? I don’t get it. You can’t be with me
because you’re trying to find yourself? Or wait. Sorry, that was
only one attempt at bullshitting an excuse. The first one was that
I don’t really know you. And let’s not forget that I work too much.
What other crap do you have waiting for me? Where the hell is this
all coming from?”

“You can’t be surprised. We’ve barely seen
each other for weeks.”

“I had to get things tied up before we left.
I want to have time for you in Paris.”

“Oh, because magically I’ll come first
there?”

“What do you want from me, Maddy? What am I
supposed to say right now to fix things? Should I quit my job? Is
that what it’s going to take? Because I’ll do it. I’d quit this
second if it meant I wouldn’t lose you.”

“No. You have to do what’s best for you. Your
job is important.”

“You are important.” He pleaded with me with
his eyes.

“I’m not going to hold you back. You’ve
worked too hard to let that happen.

He buried his face in his hands. “Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck.”

“I’m sorry. It’s for the best though.”

“So what? You want time to find yourself? Is
that what’s going on here?”

“That’s part of it.”

“When you figure out who you are, will you
let me know?” It was more of a taunt, and that hurt worse than
anything.

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“What? I get you don’t want to come with me.
I get you want space or something like that to ‘find yourself.’” He
used air quotes. “But are you saying there’s not even a chance you
want to try us again when I get back?”

“I don’t think you’ll like the person you
find.” I forced myself to meet his eyes.

“What? How can you say that?” He looked at
me, really looked at me like he was trying to pull out answers.

“You would have loved the girl I was supposed
to be.”

“What if that’s who you are? Ever think that
you’re running from yourself? You’re smart Maddy. So what if you
didn’t get into medical school? Does that mean you have to give up
on any career?” He reached for me. “Wait. Scratch all of that. I
don’t care what you do. I just want you.”

“I don’t know what I want, and I’m not going
to figure it out by following you to another continent so you can
ignore me and work.”

“I told you I’m going to have more time. I
promise.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I love you, Maddy.”

I shook my head.

“No. You don’t get to tell me what I think
and feel.” He reached for my hand, and I let him take it. “I love
you.”

“I—”

“No. Don’t even say it. I know you feel the
same way, but I also know you’re too afraid to admit it. The next
three months are going to suck, but I’m not giving up on you,
Maddy. I’m not giving up on us.”

“I’m not promising you anything.” I needed to
be honest. I had no clue what the next few months would bring, and
I wasn’t going to leave him with the wrong impression.

“I am. I’m going to Paris for work, and
that’s what I’ll do. I’m calling you once a week, and if you don’t
pick up, that’s your choice. But I’m calling. I’ve never met anyone
like you, anyone who made me feel the way you do. I’d be an idiot
to give up this chance.”

“Why promise that when I can’t promise it in
return?”

“Because I’d rather you get it all out of
your system. Do what you need to do. If that means sleeping with
other guys—as awful as that sounds to me, then so be it. But I’ll
let it be known that I don’t think sex is going to help you find
yourself. You’re not going to find better sex than what we have.”
He said it playfully, and it lightened the mood in a strange way.
“But do what you need to. Talk to your parents. Figure out what you
want. Just do me a favor and let me know if you leave Corolla. I
need to be able to find you. Could you at least promise me that?
Promise me that I’ll get to see you when I get back, even if you
can’t promise you’ll want to date me?”

I nodded. My guess was he wouldn’t even care
by the time he got back. He’d move on.

He took my face in his hands. “I’m sorry you
feel that you need to do this. I wish you felt strong enough to
jump on an opportunity, to take a chance with me here.”

“The chance is not going. The chance is
staying.”

“I’m going to miss you. And you’re going to
miss me. You like the way you feel when we’re together, and you’ll
miss it. If it gets to be too much, just call. I’ll send you a
ticket. This isn’t all or nothing.”

“I wish I had your confidence.”

“I do too. If you did, we wouldn’t be having
this conversation.”

“And that statement is exactly why we’re
having it. We’re in such different places, and we both know it.
Like I said before. You don’t really want me.” I stepped away from
him and turned toward the door.

“Just like that? You’re going to leave just
like that?”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Stay tonight. Give us a little more
time.”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Why not? This whole thing has nothing to do
with your feelings for me. I know that, so don’t even try to deny
it.”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

“Then why not stay?”

“I’m afraid.”

“Afraid you’ll change your mind?” He knew me
too well.

“Yes. And that would be a mistake.” I sighed.
“Goodbye, Colin. Have a safe trip.”

He grabbed my arm and pulled me against him.
“No. You are not walking out like that.” His lips crushed into
mine, and I let them. I needed the closure as much as he did. I
soaked it all in. I soaked in the cinnamon, the tanginess, the
feeling of comfort I’d never found before. His hands roamed, and I
broke the kiss. I couldn’t talk.

He squeezed my hand, but then let go. “Don’t
do anything too crazy, Maddy. Don’t do anything you can’t come back
from.”

“I already did that.” I smiled slightly
before walking out the door.

I was out of ideas. Either Lyle didn’t have a
drink, or if he did, I was incapable of finding it. I watched him
setting up his guitar without even glancing over, and I startled as
a flood of anger flowed through me.

I was so convinced the Manhattan was right,
but it wasn’t. Maybe I was wrong about the whiskey. Maybe I was
wrong about it all. I decided to give him the last drink I’d
picture him enjoying. He didn’t seem into tart, and from the
expression on his face when I gave him vodka, that wasn’t his thing
either. I grabbed both and poured them into a shaker. I shook it
hard before pouring it over ice in a highball. I didn’t bother with
garnish.

My phone vibrated in the back pocket of my
skirt. I let it go to voicemail. I knew who it would be. I repeated
the same excuses I told myself every time I thought about it—which
was at least ten times a day. If I’d gone with Colin I’d just spend
the time waiting around. I’d have hated him by the end, and he
would have hated me for being so upset. Maybe at some point I’d be
willing to settle for someone who put me second, but at twenty-two
it didn’t feel right. Not when I knew there were guys out there who
understood me and who would want me enough to put me first. Maybe
it wasn’t Lyle, but there was someone else.

I sighed and placed the glass on a cocktail
napkin. I needed to give up on Lyle too. My interest was a weird
obsession that had gone too far.

I found Lyle waiting to start his set.
“Hey.”

“Hey. Thanks.”

“No problem.” I walked back to the bar. Macon
had gone home for a few days, and Brody wasn’t working Thursdays
anymore, so I was on my own. Watching Lyle alone reminded me of the
time Carly had come in. I wondered if I’d ever talk to her
again.

Lyle sipped his vodka cranberry, looked at it
and took another sip. He’d never taken two consecutive sips before.
Then he took a third and smiled—at me. He found me across the bar
and held up the drink.

My heart could have stopped. He liked a vodka
cranberry? Seriously?

A crowd came in, and I missed most of his
first set as I made small talk while mixing drinks and opening
beers.

“Hey.”

I turned around in surprise.

Lyle stood at the bar with a smile, and for
once, he showed some teeth. “Do you want to do something after you
get off? Hang out or something?”

“Oh. Sure.” My heart sped up. What was
happening?

I could barely concentrate as I finished up
at work that night. I served drinks without thinking, and
thankfully didn’t spill much. Lyle finished his last set and sat
around waiting for me to get off.

“What do you want to do?” I asked, slipping
on a sweater.