A Season of Eden (19 page)

“Yes.”

“Bye.” My cell phone clicked. Dead. Gone. Over. I stared at the blank screen. My chest drew tight. Panic closed my throat. Why had I been so juvenile? I’d lost everything before it had even begun.

Matt and Brielle watched me keenly. I lifted my chin and slipped on my dark glasses so no one would see my glistening eyes. Then I sat back down at the table and stuck my phone in my bag.

“Who was that?” Brielle asked.

I reached for my diet Coke and sipped. The soda was flat. “Don’t worry about it.”

He was there when I pulled into the parking lot. I saw him through the window, sitting at the same table-for-two we’d sat at during our first meeting. He’d changed into jeans, a deep blue tee shirt and wore a red hoodie. I still wore my pink shirt and cream skirt, though I’d pulled on a white cropped hoodie because it was cold.

I tried to feel like nothing was wrong. He wasn’t going to tell me I’d been a retard and to go jump off the Redondo Beach pier. My stomach muscles bunched. I flipped my hair over my shoulder with a clammy hand and pulled open the door to Starbucks.

Usually comforted by the strong scent of brewing coffee, tonight the smell made me nauseous. I gripped the handle of my bag and walked toward him with a smile.

His usual grin wasn’t there. Instead, he looked at me as if he was trying to decide whether or not he was going to invite me to join him.

“Hey.” I didn’t sit.

He got up and pulled the chair out for me. “Hey.”

I sat, my nerves scrambling. “So, what’s up?”

“Would you like something?”

I swallowed. “No thanks.”

The blue in his eyes was stormy. “Eden, I’d like to talk to you about something.”

“Okay.”

“Are you and Leesa friends?”

“Uh, sort of. I’ve known her for years, but I wouldn’t say we’re buddies. We don’t hang or anything. Why?”

He lifted a shoulder. “I just wondered. You… you kind of get harsh with her. I don’t know if she senses it, but I have a couple of times.”

“This is about this morning, I know. I have a really hard time with people that are so… embarrassing. I feel bad for them.”

He looked confused. “What was she doing that was embarrassing?”

“You’re serious?”

“She was just passing out sheet music.”

“It was more than that.”

“What do you mean?” He looked honestly clueless.

“She was totally flirting with you.”

His eyes widened. He didn’t say anything but looked like I’d just slugged him. I couldn’t believe that he hadn’t seen it.

“She was being helpful…” His voice trailed off.

Amused, I laughed. “Yeah, that too.” He dipped his head, stared at his drink. “You really couldn’t tell?”

He looked up, his eyes bigger, bluer. “I’m not very good at picking up signals, I guess.” He buried his face in his hands for a minute. “I feel like an idiot.”

I tried not to laugh at his discomfort as I sat there stunned. Impressed. And more attracted to him than ever.

This hottie had no clue how incredibly hot he really was.

“Well, open your eyes. She’s after you.”

His skin turned pinker than my shirt. “No. No, she’s not.”

“Yes. Yes she is.”

“She’s… but…” He let out an adorable groan. “I don’t know what to say… I’m a music geek.”

I didn’t care if he was Napoleon Dynamite. His naiveté was endearing. “That explains your jacket,” I said.

“Jacket?”

“The one with the elbow patches.”

“You don’t like it?”

I snickered, bringing another blush to his cheeks. “Your jacket is the least of your problems. What are you going to do about Leesa?”

“Nothing. I mean, she can’t be serious. She’s my student.”

“So am I.”

The right corner of his lip lifted, held, and his eyes twinkled at me. “Leesa is… a sweet girl. But… wow, this is such a mind-blower.”

I pinched my lips to keep from breaking into a grin. His expression shifted from embarrassed to shock to disbelief, trying to understand what seemed impossible.

“Just because I’m friendly with her doesn’t mean anything. I’m her teacher, I’m supposed to be friendly.”

“Yeah, well, girls see it totally different.”

“Obviously.” He let out a sigh, scrubbed his hair then rested his elbows on the small table, his gaze fixing on mine long and deep. Penetrating. “So you were mad at her for flirting with me?”

“You’re catching on. Bravo.” I reached for the ceramic holder of pink sweeteners and fiddled with it, unable to endure his gaze any longer. “It was stupid, I know.”

“I’m the one feeling stupid.” He sat back but his eyes didn’t leave me.

“Oh, well, I’m glad. Now we both feel stupid.”

He sat forward, as if he didn’t want anyone to overhear what he was going to say. “So… we understand this. Nothing’s changed.”

I bit my lower lip, wondering if the relief coursing my veins was real. His gaze dropped to my mouth. My heart skipped. He cleared his throat, shifted and sat back again.

My body hummed. It took him a few minutes for him to tear his gaze away from my mouth. I couldn’t help but smile. Then he did too.

“I’m going to get something to drink,” his voice rasped.

He rose. “You sure you don’t want anything?”

I nodded. What I wanted was
not
one of Starbucks’

specialty drinks. I made sure James knew that by holding tight to his gaze. He took tentative steps backward toward the bar, unable to look away.

I watched him while he ordered, the pleasant surprise of his secreted hotness lingering in my blood like a nice buzz. I’d had my share of boyfriends. Some had been no more than accessories. Others, like Matt, had done more than just hang from my arm. They’d become part of me.

But not like James could become a part of me… an unforgettable destination. Matt had been a trip to Barstow.

I wasn’t proud of that now, not looking at a kind, sincere, innocent guy like James who had inexplicably gone for who knows how long unnoticed by the opposite sex.

Could he seriously have been a music geek? Maybe he’d been ugly in high school. Five years wouldn’t change a person’s appearance that much, would it? I didn’t care. He was beautiful inside and out. How he’d gotten that way only made him more fascinating.

When he came back to the table, he smiled an endearing, cute grin that said he was still flustered about what had happened with Leesa. “I took the liberty of getting you one. I hope that’s okay.” He set my caramel cappuccino down in front of me.

“You remembered.”

“I guess I’m not a complete idiot,” he laughed.

I sipped. The hot drink burned my mouth. With a hiss I set the drink down.

“Get burned?”

I nodded. His gaze focused on my mouth. The way his jaw contracted sent a shiver through me. He dug into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a yellow and red Carmex. His long fingers twisted off the red cap and he handed the tube to me.

I took the Carmex and parted my lips. Inside of me, every inch tingled because he was watching. I was putting something on my lips that he’d put on his. Gently I pressed the yellow tube to my mouth, spreading the moistening gel over every curve. Menthol-therapy spread from my lips to my toes like warm jelly. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Keep it.”

“You sure?”

He lifted his hot chocolate for a sip keeping an eye on me over the rim of the cup. “I’m sure.”

“Were you a straight-A student?” I started, dying to dig deeper into him. To solve the mystery of how this gorgeous guy had remained untouched.

He colored a little. “I did well enough.”

“It’s just that you said you started taking GE classes in high school. Not many people do that.”

“I didn’t spend much time socializing, Eden. Guess you could say I was more academically motivated.”

“I’m getting that,” I said, intrigued. “So, you were like, in band and stuff?”

He shook his head. “I sang.”

“Of course,” I said. “Did you ever, like, have a girlfriend?”

My questions kept a pink flush on his skin and a half grin on his lips. “In high school, no.” He studied me a moment. “You look surprised.”

“I guess I am.”
You’re so gorgeous.
“Had a girlfriend… ever?”

“Yeah…” He reached for his drink and kept his gaze steady on mine. “You saw me today. Half the time I can’t tell a flirt from a friend.”

“Unbelievable.” I covered my shock by reaching for my own drink. I sipped.

He scrubbed his face with his hands, then looked at me. “Disappointed?”

“Why would I be?”

He fiddled with his cup, his expression wary. “Come on, Eden. I’ve seen you with your friends. You’re so at ease.

That’s one of the things I thought was great about you. I’d have given anything to be like that in high school.”

“I don’t know if I’m at ease. But I’m not afraid.” I sipped again. “Are you afraid?”

“Not afraid, just deficient.” He set aside his cup and clasped his hands, his face serious. “I guess my academic mindset is finally catching up with me, biting me in the back.”

“So you were focused. That’s cool. You knew what you wanted and look where you are—teaching—and you’re only twenty-two. You’re glad to be where you are, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah. It’s just that my solo life didn’t plant a lot of relationships along the way.”

“But you’re so amazing.” I leaned on my elbow, awed.

He flushed again. “You’re… well… I’m flattered.”

“If it’s any conciliation, I would never have guessed that you were shy or whatever. Your clothes are the only give away.”

“My clothes?!” He reddened, grinning. “You keep bringing up my clothes.”

“Because they’re so… how can I put this nicely.” I liked that he took my chiding good-naturedly.

“Just give it to me straight,” he said.

“Okay. Well, they’re retro for sure. Prep is probably the most accurate, but also a stretch because they’re, like, prep with a twist.”

He glanced down at himself. “Wow. Really? Twist?”

“Not what you’re wearing right now. This outfit is totally cool. It’s your school stuff that needs an overhaul. I feel really bad saying that, because it’s…. You’re nice. I’m not hurting your feelings, am I?”

“No. I want to know.” He leaned toward me on both elbows. “You can help me.”

I laughed. “You want me to be your fashion coordinator?”

“Let’s not label it,” he joked.

“So.” A pit opened in my stomach. “Is this why you invited me to Starbucks?”

The green in his eyes flickered. “No. Eden, no.”

He seemed to stammer over what to say next. I felt bad putting him on the spot, but at the same time his discomfiture gave me a shot of power.

“Among many things, I saw in you something I admire. Something I lack.” He held my gaze with all of the seriousness of a confession. “Is that all right with you?”

It was more than all right. It was the most complimentary thing anyone had ever told me. I nodded.

“That’s so poetic. Do you write lyrics to your music?”

“Sometimes.”

“I want to hear them.”

“Do you always get what you want?” He raised an eyebrow. The tone of his voice deepened, sending a warm thrill through me.

“Always. But I’m not spoiled.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re not.” He laughed but it wasn’t mean.

“Seriously. What do you think about when you write music? What’s your muse?”

“That depends.”

“Remember that first day I came into your room and you were playing? That was the prettiest song. Who inspired it?”

“I’m not sure what song you’re talking about. But people don’t necessarily inspire me.”

“That’s lame.”

He laughed. “I told you, I haven’t been socially motivated. I can be moved by a lot of things: A place. A scene. An event.”

I wanted to be an event. “I want you to come over.”

“To your house?”

“Where else?”

“No way.”

“Why not?

“Meeting at a public place is one thing.” He paused, his features taut. “It’s acceptable… for the most part. Meeting at some place private… That takes our friendship to another place.”