Use Somebody (33 page)

Out of nowhere he asked, “Were you in love with Nathan?” Then he smiled at my stunned expression. “I gathered as much by the way you said his name.”

All the blood in my body settled in my cheeks. The man had an uncanny ability to read me like a book.

“Love?” my small voice squeaked. “Um. I don’t think so. We sort of… he didn’t feel the same.”

“But how did you feel?” he pressed, genuinely curious.

I was caught in the intensity of his gaze, replaying the way his lips looked forming the word “love” in this context. It overwhelmed me, how he could completely romanticize the English language with the simplest of words. I wanted him to kiss me so badly, I could almost taste it. I didn’t want to think about anything else at the moment except the way I would feel in his arms…

I couldn’t look at him if I expected to form a coherent answer. Dragging my eyes begrudgingly from his handsome face, I let myself remember a time I had tried so hard to forget.

Nathan and I had an interesting relationship. By day we were friends, by night we would make out and fool around. He was resistant to give me any higher level of commitment and I had been understanding to a fault. I figured he would come around when he was ready and he realized how understanding I was, and how good we were together. For some reason it blindsided me when he called it quits instead.

When Nathan ended it, something inside me hurt. No, it broke. It left a gaping hole right in my chest that no one yet had been able to fill, not even Miles. I didn’t even realize how much I cared until it was over and there was nothing I could do about it. Compared to anyone who had come along since (except for Gabriel of course), it had certainly been the strongest emotions I had ever felt. I even began to doubt myself. Maybe, I had thought, if I’d just given in, if I’d slept with him like he wanted, he might have agreed to be my boyfriend.

Looking back, I could see how misplaced and unrequited my feelings were, and that our relationship never made any practical sense. Bad for me as he was, the feelings I had for him had always been undeniably strong.

What else could have blinded me so severely, and broken my heart so painfully?

“I—yes,” I admitted. “I think maybe I did love Nathan.”

I bit my lip and looked up at him from under my lashes, almost guilty for my confession. Like I was somehow letting him down.

He ran his fingers adoringly through my curls. The act was so soothing I was immediately reassured. There was no judgment in his eyes. Only understanding.

“Then he was a right arse,” he stated.

I smiled. That was certainly a new one.

“What about you?” I inquired.

“Me?”

“Sure. Friends? Family?” I wanted to know everything.

Gabriel was a mystery to me. There was a story there—one I hoped he’d reveal in time. Still, I had yet to so much as pinpoint his accent. So many times I heard inflections that deviated from his standard British. An Italian word here, a Scottish pronunciation there. He was, after all, well-traveled.

I considered everything from royal heir to celestial being. Neither had been ruled out.

He shrugged. “Alas, there’s not much to tell. I sort of left everything behind when I came here.”

He was alone. I could relate to that. I slipped my fingers through his and squeezed in comfort. “Not even family?”

He just watched me for a few seconds before he answered, “I have a brother.”

I nodded. “Younger or older?”

“Younger.” He looked down at my fingers and rubbed them gently with his thumb. “He fell in with a bad lot a few years back. Led him down a path I spent years trying to protect him from.” He met my eyes again. “I wished a better life for him.”

One little statement and I fell for him all over again. “And your parents?”

“My mum is dead.” He said it so plainly, I almost thought I hadn’t heard him right. “She died many years ago, in a house fire.”

I swallowed thickly. “And your father?”

“Why, he left.” Again, he hardly reacted. Just looked into my eyes like he was telling me his favorite flavor of pie, instead of a history that crushed my very spirit. “He blamed me for the fire, you see. Never trust a ten-year-old in the kitchen.”

A hundred questions came to my mind, but I forced myself not to pry. I had the feeling Gabriel seldom opened up about his past, and I didn’t want him to regret letting me in. But what in the world could you say to that? No amount of apologies or perfect phrasing would make it right. He was the only person I had ever known to experience such loss, such pain, and yet display so much strength.

I said the only words of comfort I could think of.

“Your brother is lucky to have you.”

He studied me for a minute, penetrating and intense, and just when I thought something might finally happen between us, he pulled me to my feet.

“Gabriel!” I gasped, flushed, while he smirked down at me. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer. Just held up my right hand, placed the other on my waist, and started to sway. My surprise melted into a beguiling gaze. And there, alone in my dorm room, we danced.

Gabriel said I wasn’t alone anymore because I had him now. I hoped he knew he had me, too. He had every last piece of me.

[Present]

My eyes narrowed humorously. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Who? Me?” the goober denied. “Of course not! I’m just smiling!”

“When I can
hear
your smile, it qualifies as a laugh!”

I sat across the table from Vance at an authentic Mexican restaurant. That’s right—for once we were not at Honey’s Diner. We’d just finished working a rare afternoon shift together and were both hungry for a real meal. So I suggested this hole-in-the-wall place because they made the best steak burritos in town.

It was only fair to treat him after all the times he’d bought me pancakes. I wasn’t keen on the idea of being a freeloader, so I took the opportunity to even the score. Plus, I figured a change of scenery couldn’t hurt.

It had been about a week since the attempted kiss, and I was determined to get our friendship back on track. Vance had just gotten carried away, that’s all. We just needed to get on the same page. I wasn’t about to lose our friendship due to residual awkwardness.

So far everything was going well. Vance had challenged me to a competition to determine who could handle the spiciest peppers. He totally had me beat, claiming the pepper that made my eyes water tasted like ketchup. The jerk.

For all intents and purposes, we behaved normally. He continued to push me and I continued to push back. I ignored the underlying current between us that sometimes crept into the conversation, reminding me that he had almost crossed that forbidden line. However, it was subtle enough that I could almost convince myself it was nothing more than our usual banter.

“I’m not laughing
at
you… I just find you intriguing.”

“Intriguing?” I repeated, dubious. There was nothing about my appearance or behavior that seemed intriguing to me. My intention behind everything was to repel, not generate interest. For goodness sake, he had just witnessed me scarf down a burrito the size of his shoe. “Your exposure to females must be pretty limited these days.”

Ever so casually he crossed his arms over the table, eyes intent on mine. “You’re so different than the girl I remember.”

I pursed my lips. No way were we delving into that can of worms. “You didn’t even know me back then.”

He tilted his head to the side and continued studying me. “I didn’t have to speak to you to notice the difference.” He paused thoughtfully. “Your dimples only show when your smile is genuine, you know. I catch a glimpse every time you laugh. The first time you met Ursula. Our candy war. That night in the cabin… The real you. What would it take to get her back for good?”

That’s when the light bulb clicked on. The reason why he was so determined to befriend me. The explanation behind every friendly smile, every ride home, every probing conversation, every pancake. Any idiot could tell by looking at me that I was troubled. But Vance was a do-gooder and he couldn’t let that be. When he looked at me, what he saw was a damsel in distress.

“You want to fix me,” I accused. “You want to ride up on your stallion and save the day.”

“Who else is going to save you?” he inquired without missing a beat.

I raised my chin defiantly. “Spare me your hero complex,” I said. “Newsflash: I don’t need a man to fix me. So you might as well just give up on that goal.”

I wasn’t going to let myself depend on anybody. Not again. There was nothing he or anyone else could do to change that. And I resented the possibility that our friendship meant little more to him than some heroic pet project.

The waitress chose that moment to walk by our table and drop off the check. I reached for it, but before my fingers could take hold, he snatched it away like a sneaky Speedy Gonzalez.

I held out my hand, no longer trying to hide my annoyance. “Give me the check, Vance.”

He grinned as he pulled out his wallet, pleased that he was getting to me. “So kind of you to offer. But no worries, I’ve got this.”

“Hand it over,” I asserted through my teeth. “Tonight is supposed to be my treat.”

“Maybe next time.”

“Oh, come on!” I threw out my hands dramatically. “
Every
time is next time! I owe you for, like, fifty pancakes. It’s my turn!”

With a shake of the head, he tsked, unmoved by my outburst. “So tempting… and yet, still no.”

I released a frustrated grunt. “For someone who’s supposed to be my friend, you’ve got a real knack for pissing me off.”

He winked at me, and reached under the table to touch my knee. “I think you secretly like it.”

Ugh! Why? Why did he have to always push my buttons?

I slapped his hands away and moved back in the bench, out of his reach. It wasn’t harmless flirting anymore. He was playing by his own rules now; ever since he tried to kiss me, even playful touches were no longer innocent. I needed to work even harder to maintain our boundaries. I needed to get it through his thick skull that
this
was never going to happen.

“I’m not going to sleep with you!” I blurted, quietly enough to not make a scene, but with enough force to be taken seriously.

He blinked. “I know that.”

“So you don’t have to be nice and give me flowers and buy me dinner, that stuff won’t change my mind!”

He flashed me a grin. “I know that.”

“Then why? Nobody does all this for nothing, so what is it that you’re looking to get from all this? Huh? What is it that you want from me?”

Without hesitating, Vance leaned forward and pierced me with his stare. “I just want you to know that there are good guys out there. There are people in this world you can trust, that don’t have ulterior motives. You just have to find them.” He paused, allowing the candor behind his words to sink in. “The only thing I want, Rosie, is to see you happy.”

That caught me off guard. I didn’t know what kind of response I’d expected him to deliver. Certainly nothing as poignant as the sentiment he gave me. “I am happy,” I grumbled, aware to my own ears that I sounded petulant.

Vance raised one eyebrow. “Clearly,” he stated with a hefty dose of sarcasm, but he didn’t push it after that.

As he signed the receipt, I watched him quietly, like I was seeing him in a brand new light. I couldn’t seem to figure him out. I thought I knew men, but then Vance would say and do things that threw me for a loop, totally contradicting everything I thought I knew.

Something he said tonight had penetrated my wall, and I felt my heart soften just the tiniest bit.

The only thing I want, Rosie, is to see you happy.

Those weren’t just words; his actions over the past few months had shown me how much he really meant it. He befriended me even though I’d been cold. He made funny faces at work and played my favorite songs in his truck. He sang to me when I was hurt in the canyon and shared the beauty of his mountains with me. He stood up to Lexi and defended me from evil ex-boyfriends. He challenged me and encouraged me to be a better version myself, and to be at peace. His motive was obvious in the way his biggest smile always followed my laugh. Over and over again he did things just to make me happy. He never got anything else out of it.

It reminded me of something my mama always told me:
“A true gentleman never has to tell you he’s a gentleman.”

No matter how many times I tried to thwart his efforts, he persisted. The goober was worming his way under my skin. It must have been all those rides home. And rock songs. And pancakes.

And yet, that red light in the back of my brain flashed in warning—
be careful, that’s how they get you.
It could be just another line. Nice guys had a way of luring people in by convincing them they cared. Maybe they even believed their own words in the moment they were spoken. But in my experience, promises could fade. Intentions could change in an instant. And “forever” meant diddly squat. The only guarantees in this life were death and taxes.

Even so, a small, curious part of me—likely the same part that exhibited poor judgment in the past—wanted to ignore that red light. To forget what I’d learned and believe that Vance really meant what he said. It was safer keeping everyone at a distance, but it could also be lonely.

I had finally convinced myself to trust him… then he up and tried to kiss me. Now I didn’t know what to believe. I didn’t know anything anymore.

When he finished signing his name, Vance looked up at me and smiled. “Ready?”

For a moment I drowned in contemplating the depths of that question. Was I ready to take a chance? To trust him? To let go of the paranoia and walls and just have a normal relationship with someone?

But instead I shook it off and answered the question simply as he intended it.

“Let’s go.”

* * *

Vance took the long way home.

The sun was low on the horizon but it was still a little light out. The sky was glowing beautiful oranges and reds, and the trees that lined the road were peppered with the same pallet, exposing signs of autumn.

In pensive silence, we drove through the winding hills and gorgeous trees with shadows dancing across our faces. His words from tonight echoed through my ears on repeat, and I couldn’t stop wondering if I was the one making everything so complicated.

“Look… thank you for dinner. And sorry I’m being weird,” I said. “I just have a hard time reading people’s motives sometimes.”

“I get it.”

“You do?”

“Of course.” He looked at me with genuine understanding. “You know what’s changed the most? It’s not your clothes or your hair. It’s your eyes. There was always a light in your eyes when you smiled. Like nothing could ever take away your happiness. But somewhere along the way, something snuffed it out. I get that you have a wall up—I know cinder block when I see it. But I don’t want to drag all those secrets out of you. I just hope that eventually you’ll let me in.”

I looked away from him, moved by his sincerity for the second time. What was in those burritos that had made me so receptive this evening?

Yes. There was a reason. I couldn’t deny it. But that didn’t mean I’d ever be ready to let him in. There was once a time where I trusted easily, and it tore me to pieces.

“To be honest, I don’t know if I even want to. I’ve made some bad choices, you know? I don’t even trust myself to try again.”

“I trust you,” he offered. “Does that make me naïve?”

“Yes,” I laughed ironically.
Oh if only he knew.
The hard mask came back on again. “Trust is a dangerous thing. Just like love. And hope.”

There are only so many times a person can allow themselves to be vulnerable before they realize letting their guard down is fair game for a broken heart. How stupid do you feel when you realize, all it took was a stronger wall?

He pulled over to the side of the road that overlooked the whole city. Lights from cars and houses speckled throughout the town from this distance. Despite the gorgeous view, he turned towards me, studying me as the golden hues of the sunset kissed his skin. “Oh Rosie… what have those jaded eyes of yours seen?”

I started to speak but he placed his fingertips lightly over my lips, effectively silencing me.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered.

I looked up at him, not knowing what to expect. “But—”

“We’re trying something new this time. Just do it.”

With an exasperated sigh, I obeyed.

At first, everything was still. We sat in his truck—in the very place my best friend had made a move on me only a week ago—and I was struck with the vulnerability of sitting in absolute blindness with him now. I had no clue what he was about to do, and since I’d been battling with trusting him, it had me a little on edge.

Once I heard the telltale clicks of his iPod, I relaxed a little. He was picking music. I could handle that.

A new song began. The guitar strummed a soft melody. I wasn’t sure I’d heard this one before, but the mellow acoustic and rough recording sounded vaguely familiar.

“Who’s this?”

“Rufio. Just listen.”

Rufio. I knew a couple of their songs. They were an indie punk rock band based out of another local city. As the singer’s beseeching voice finally entered, I concentrated on the lyrics.

It spoke of finding yourself surrounded by people that you didn’t understand, in a place where you didn’t belong. It reminded me of being at college and the overwhelming feeling of not fitting in. Of being alone. It even reminded me of coming back to San Dimas earlier this year, to a town that always stayed the same while everything about me had changed. Where do you find your place when your own home no longer feels like home?

And then the singer was telling that person they weren’t alone. That even though they were hurting, even though they’d been broken and betrayed in the past, they didn’t have to live in fear. They just had to open their eyes and see that the person right in front of them was the one who really cared.

A gasp escaped past my lips as I sat there, the weight of those words sinking in. Vance certainly knew his music and lyrics, and I knew he had picked this song intentionally. He was using it to speak to me, telling me that he cared, asking me to trust him.