Better Than Okay (26 page)

Chapter 23

Friday,
6:21 a.m.

Have
you ever imagined something that was so incredible you just knew it couldn’t be
real, or exist in actual life? That’s how it feels to be with Brian.
Unimaginable. Unreal. I’ve always thought that the term “making love” was the
corniest thing ever. But that’s what I did last night. I made love. Love was
operative. Love… was. And I was. In love. The way he made me feel…it was like…
cherished. I still can’t believe we finally… In the middle of the night, too. I
couldn’t help it though. I’d been dreaming about Barnes & Noble again and
the need for him was just overwhelming. God, I sound like one of the dumb-ass
Harlequin romance books Chrissy is always reading. Here I am, in my bathroom,
sitting on a toilet writing about him at like, 6 in the morning. But man. If I
never feel like this again, I just had to document that this feeling does
actually exist. And I felt it. And I’m really happy that after everything, I
was still able to feel it. Because of Brian.

Chapter 24

“You’re being weird.”

Brian looked over at Destiny, one hand on the steering wheel as he
maneuvered his car through the early afternoon traffic. His aviator glasses
were covering up his eyelashes and his expression was serious. He was wearing a
black Suns t-shirt today with camo-green cargo shorts and he looked so good all
she wanted to do was stare at him, and forget everything that was bothering
her, all of the crap that life had brought to her.

She sighed and looked out of the window again, watching the clouds
float in slow motion over the sky, even though the car was moving so fast. The
contrast was intriguing, maybe even a little disturbing. She bit her lip,
wringing her hands in her lap. It was funny how just a few hours could change
things, or more accurately, allow reality to swoop in and burst any euphoric
balloon that may have been waving around in your head.

They hadn’t talked about last night all. She didn’t know if they
were even supposed to be talking about last night. Was that the thing to do
after having sex? Is that what people did? Because “sex” actually didn’t even
seem like an accurate description for what’d they’d shared. It was so much
more, on so many levels.

Was she supposed to wake up and explain to him how he’d made her
feel when he’d caressed her, kissed her, made every fiber in her being sing
with desire? Was it normal to want to tell him how much she loved him for being
so in tune with every little noise she made, every hitch of her breath, every
arch of her hips? Or how she’d practically come undone every time he whispered
that he loved her or shown her how long and how much he’d wanted her?

His lovemaking was as deliberate and thorough as his kisses. He’d
paid detailed attention to every inch of her body and by the time she’d come
undone underneath him, she knew he owned her.

 
Her entire body heated
at the memory. She was consumed with him. But even still, after everything
they’d shared, she still hadn’t been able to tell him that she loved him.
 
There was still a wall, one of her
making. One she still wasn’t completely sure how to break down.

“I’m not being weird,” she finally denied with a sigh. It sounded
like a lie, even to her ears.

He glanced at her again before redirecting his attention to the
road.

“You’ve said like three words to me today. You’ve barely even
looked at me.”

“I’ve actually said like five words,” she grinned, trying to
distract him.

He didn’t smile and she sighed again, staring out of the window.
He wasn’t really lying. But it wasn’t as dramatic as he was making it sound
either. She’d climbed back into bed after her early morning journaling and
they’d slept until almost twelve. Then Dorian had asked Brian if they wanted to
meet him for lunch since they had the day off. Well, Brian had the day off. She
had no job. They’d spent the next thirty minutes getting ready and now they
were in the car on the way to meet him at Marsitas.

She glanced at him again quickly. The tension in the car was
palpable and she hated it because she knew it was her fault. She shifted in her
seat. She had on her yellow sundress today and her legs were beginning to stick
to the leather. She didn’t know what to say to him because she still didn’t
know what to say to herself, so she did the next best thing—she picked up
his iPod and shuffled through the music until Kendrick Lamar came on. They rode
in silence for what seemed like forever, the sound of the music breaking in and
out of her already muffled thoughts.

“You regret last night?”

The words came of nowhere, but everywhere and hung in the air,
half-question, half-statement, as if he couldn’t decide which one to go with.
The vulnerability she heard in his voice twisted into her gut as she continued
to study the passing traffic.

 
Last night was a big
deal for so many reasons. Not just because she’d willingly had sex for the
first time but because it was with him. It was a big deal because it was the
first time that she’d been able to get through being intimate with him without
Connor Dorsey barging his way into her head. It was a big deal because she knew
she’d never get enough of him, and it terrified her. As much as she trusted
him, she didn’t trust life. It was constantly throwing curve balls.

“No,” she finally answered, turning to glance at him. “I don’t
regret it.”

 
“But you had to think
about it?” He pushed out a breath and looked at her before turning back to the
road. “This is exactly the reason why I was trying to wait. I didn’t want you
to do anything before you were really ready because I didn’t want you
disappearing on me... again.”

“I didn’t disappear. I’m right here.”

She was trying to speak calmly although frustration was starting
to seep into her veins. What exactly did he want from her? Her soul? He had
that. Her body? He had that now too.

“No,” he said pointedly, flicking a glance her way again. “You’re not
here. You’re somewhere else.”

He frowned as he pulled off the exit. They came to a stoplight but
he kept his eyes on the road. She watched as a girl about her age pushed a
stroller across the street, while a kid who looked about four or five hung onto
her pant leg. She could only imagine what her life would be like if she’d had
kids right out of high school.

“I don’t know what I was expecting,” he said interrupting her
random thoughts, sounding as if he was mostly talking to himself. He ran his
free hand over his head. “You weren’t ready.”

“What does that even mean?” she asked, irritably. She turned and
looked at him.

“Exactly what I said,” he bit out, glancing at her. He turned and
stared out of the window again, waiting for the light to change.

“Why are you mad?” she asked, frowning, her voice rising. “We had
sex and I don’t have the right facial expression, or wake up congratulating you
on last night’s performance and you get pissed and start accusing me of
disappearing? Really?”

She glared at him. She knew what he wanted to hear. What he
deserved to hear, especially because it was true. But couldn’t utter the words.
Instead, she was displacing and she knew it. But she couldn’t stop herself.

“Don’t belittle us like that,” he said, his voice tight. “We both
know last night was more than just sex. Just like we both know I don’t need
your damned congratulations.”

His jaw was clenched as he accelerated when the light changed. She
looked back out of her window, feeling guilty, her heart thudding. But more
than guilt she felt pissed. And she didn’t even know why. He hadn’t done
anything to her. In fact, he’d done everything for her. But here she was,
pushing him away again. Her mind was clouded with thoughts and she couldn’t
pull a coherent one that she was satisfied with out of the jumble.

He glanced in his blind spot before navigating the wheel to the
left. They’d reached the restaurant, which sat on the corner between a tattoo
shop and a holistic spa and could easily be passed by if you weren’t looking for
it. He expertly swerved into a parking space and put the car into park, cutting
the ignition. He didn’t make a move to get out, and neither did she. She bit
her lip, and looked over at him. He was staring at his hands, which were still
gripping the steering wheel.

“I don’t want to fight with you, Destiny,” he finally said,
quietly. “Not about this of all things.”

She felt tears welling in her eyes again and she pushed out a
breath.

“I don’t either, Brian,” she shook her head and risked a glance at
him.

He looked at her and released a long breath. He nodded.

“Then we won’t,” he said resolutely, causing her heart to break a
little more.

She nodded and he opened the car door. She released another
breath, holding back tears and stepped out of the car. When he walked around
the front of the car and held out his hand for her, she nearly broke. Right
there in the parking lot. He deserved so much more than what she was giving
him. She grabbed his hand and interlaced his fingers with hers.

“Brian?” she said, tugging on his hand.

He turned and faced her.

“I really don’t regret it,” she said softly, pausing as another
couple walked past them toward the entrance.

They were standing on the sidewalk that led to the doors,
partially shaded by the large palm trees that surrounded the building.

“I’m sorry for making you think I do. I’m sorry for not doing any
of this right. I’m sorry for saying what I just did. I’m just… sorry.”

Tears were stinging in her eyes and she quickly looked away,
holding her breath, holding them in. He released a breath and pulled her into
an embrace. She held on to him like her life depended on it. He pulled away
after a few seconds and dropped a quick kiss on her lips before silently
grabbing her hand and leading her toward the entrance.

*
* *

Destiny took a bite of her pickle and desperately tried to
concentrate on what Brian and Dorian were saying, but she was having a hard
time. She recognized Bruce Lee’s
Chinese
Connection
playing on the small box TV that was hung up high in the corner
of the restaurant, though as usual, it was muted to allow the jazz that was
pouring softly from the speakers to warm the space. Today it was Miles Davis’s
classic
Kind of Blue,
which fit her
somber mood.

Once again, Brian had taken care of her and once again, she’d
returned his considerateness and love with shit. A bunch of emotional, heady,
misplaced, shit. When the hell was she ever going to get it together enough to
be in a real relationship with him?

She studied him discreetly, noting his two-day stubble and the
circles beneath his eyes that were there because he’d been spending all of his
free time with her, fixing cars, buying milkshakes, and making sleepy love in
the middle of the night. Even with the rings, he was easily the best looking
guy in the entire restaurant. The sun was bouncing off of the metal napkin
holder in the middle of the table, casting a rainbow across his features. His
sleepy, stubbled look practically dripped intrigue and well, sex. Almost every
woman in there noticed too, including Dorian’s flirty waitress friend, who
couldn’t seem to decide which one of them to divide her time and flirtiness
with.

She took a sip of her lemonade, her eyes drifting to the screen
again, watching as Bruce Lee practically chopped through a block of ice with
his pinky finger. Her phone buzzed and she reached onto the table, quickly
reading the new email that was on her screen.

“Wow,” she said aloud, louder than she intended to.

“What?” Dorian asked, looking at her as he bit into his pita.

 
It must’ve been casual
day at his job because he had on a Diamondbacks baseball cap pulled down low
over his eyes.

She reread the email. It was from Curt Schuster, the hiring
manager at the marketing company Gabe had told her about in Phoenix, saying
that they were impressed with her clips and wanted an in-person interview.
Because she came highly recommended from Gabe, he was willing to shorten the
process. They wanted her in Phoenix by Wednesday for the job interview and if
it went well, would be ready for her to start the following week. She released
a breath. She honestly hadn’t expected a real reply at all, let alone anything
that sounded so promising so soon.

“What?” Dorian asked again, impatiently.

Brian was studying her. Unlike Dorian, he could wait all day.

“I just got an email…” she started, her heart thudding in her
chest as she worked the situation around in her mind. “I have a job interview
at this marketing company to be a copywriter.”

They both immediately smiled.

“See how quick things are starting to come together?” Brian said
encouragingly, tossing a chip into his mouth.

She released another breath, not meeting his eyes.

“Dude, you’re supposed to be happy. You look like you’re about to
hurl,” Dorian said, taking another huge bite of his pita.

She bit her lip and glanced up at Brian before quickly looking
away again. “It’s in Phoenix.”

Brian’s head jerked up and he stared at her. Dorian looked up at
her then glanced at Brian.

“You’ve been looking for jobs in Phoenix?” Brian asked after a
long minute. His eyes were penetrating as he stared at her.

“No,” she said quickly. “I mean, not really. I did apply for a job
in Phoenix but only because my editor, well, my old editor, Gabe, sent me the
lead.” She shrugged and pushed out a breath. “I mostly did it just to say I
did. Or to you know, kick start the job search for real.”

She bit her lip and focused on her half-eaten pita. Uncomfortable
silence stretched across the bright yellow table.

“So are you gonna go?” Dorian asked curiously, still eyeing Brian.

She looked up at Brian. He’d put on his indecipherable mask again
and she knew he was waiting for her answer.