the first time.” I wrote “Love” again and glanced back at Kayla. “Where’s Adam?”
“Just making some coffee. You want some?”
“Sure.”
“We were going to watch a movie if you want to join us.” She hovered in the doorway.
“Sure.” I capped the marker. One wall was enough for tonight. I took out my phone and snapped a picture of it, just in case.
Chapter Fourteen
Stryker
I almost called her or texted her so many times I lost count. But I didn’t know what to say after I’d given her the cold shoulder. If I called her and she came over and we had sex, we’d be back to square one, only I couldn’t go back to that place. The place where I didn’t care so fucking much. Really, though, I’d never been there. That first night when I saw her, I’d cared. When I’d seen her eyes scared and wide, I’d felt something that was stronger than just a guy wanting to help a girl out of a bad situation. Even then, I’d felt it. I’d never had a chance, really.
I spent the days without her eating leftovers and learning new songs and working as many hours in the frigid temperatures as I could on rebuilding a few engines. I skipped out on Band, much to the anger of everyone. It was Allan’s turn to host, and he was the most upset. I pretended I had food poisoning, but I was sure none of them bought it. Trish called me to basically tell me to get my head out of my ass, which was less than helpful.
The night before classes started back up, there was a knock at my door. My heart did a funny little lurch and I told myself over and over as I walked down the stairs it wouldn’t be Katie.
It wasn’t.
Allan leaned on my porch, holding a bottle of scotch and two cups.
“Figured you could use it,” he said with a lopsided grin.
“I told you, I’m not feeling that great. I don’t think scotch is going to help that situation.”
“You know, food poisoning is often code for: I got dumped.” He shoved his way past me and jogged up the stairs. Nothing I could do to stop him, so I closed the door and followed him.
“I didn’t get dumped.”
“The Stryker I know wouldn’t let anything get in the way of Band. Except a girl.” He set the cups down and poured a little into each, holding one out to me. “I don’t need the details, but I figured you could use a friend and a drink. So here I am.”
I hesitated, but took the cup from him and took a sip. Damn. This was good stuff. Allan might be poor as shit, but he always found money for good alcohol.
“I’m not going to get drunk and spill all my feelings,” I said, savoring the sweet burn.
“Who am I, Oprah? I don’t want to know your feelings. But if you feel the need to share them with me, I’m your man, buddy.” He banged his hand on my back and went to make himself comfortable on the couch.
“We’re both unlucky in love, man. I’m crazy about a girl who doesn’t like penises and you’re in love with a girl who is completely, totally and utterly out of your league.”
“Out of my league?”
Allan looked up from the couch.
“Uh, yeah. Like, you two aren’t even on the same planet.”
I sat down next to him. “At least she’s interested in my anatomy.”
“Ouch, burn.” He held his heart as if I’d stabbed him. I took another sip and sat down next to him on the couch.
“You’ll live.”
Allan and I sat in silence, drinking and wallowing. I’d never wallowed about a girl before. It felt like shit.
He poured more scotch and I started to feel the effect.
“Do you really think she’s out of my league?” I said.
“Well, yeah. Katie is like…Miss America and you’re…you.”
“Thanks, Allan that really clears things up.”
“No, no, that came out wrong. It’s not that she’s better than you; it’s just that you’re not the kind of guy a girl like her would go for. She goes for football players and guys with money and guys with clean criminal records.”
“Wow, Allan. You’ve managed to insult both her and me all at once. Thanks, that was so helpful.” I patted his leg. He threw his head back in frustration.
“Shit. You know I’m bad at this. I told you I wasn’t Oprah. But you know what I mean, right?”