Let's Be Mature About This BN (6 page)

When I crossed the long expanse of white sand and trudged over to him he gave me a big hug and said “Good to see you” so sincerely I almost melted into the sand. We didn’t really plan to do much except walk around and enjoy the view. “Let’s look for shells,” I suggested. Gavin put an arm around my shoulder, pulled me close to him and kissed me on the cheek as we started walking along the shore.

Does he know what he’s doing to me?! If so, I have to admit he’s good. I checked myself mentally. Erase thoughts of romantic bliss: check. Hands to myself: check. Clothing on: check. “Ooo! I wonder if I’ll find a whole sand dollar. I always find broken ones.”

“Like this one?” Gavin said as he bent down and picked up a sand dollar with a triangular chunk missing from it.

"Yeah. It would be so nice to have some for decoration."

"We'll find some for you."

Gavin and I sifted through the sand for about twenty minutes, our hopes peaked with every sight of a round, bone-white circle poking out of the sand and our hopes were dashed time and time again when the sand dollar turned out to be more of a half dollar. And then Gavin did something that almost made me propose to him on the spot. He, Gavin Caselle, did a perfect Jack Sparrow finding the rum on the deserted island impression, his arms out at his side, taking big swaggering paces down the shore. Then he yelled "Aha!," got down on his knees, and started digging. I ran over to him laughing with tears in my eyes. "Gavin! What are you doing?"

"I'm finding you a sand dollar, darling," he said in that unmistakable pirate brogue made famous by the genius actor Johnny Depp. I'm ashamed to say I giggled. Uncontrollably. "Not good," he said turning to me with a disappointed look. "No sand dollars here. All I found was this here hole." He dusted the sand off of his hands and pulled me down to sit beside him. I sat cross-legged and rested my head on his shoulder. I felt his hand slowly rub up and down my back. It was soothing. We both looked out onto the water and the setting sun and sighed at the same time. That had us giggling for a while.

I scanned the shore and up the beach to the right of me where I saw families, couples, locals and tourists dotting the sand and the water. To the left of where Gavin and I were sitting, a girl and a guy were laid out tanning about five feet away from us. I hadn't noticed anyone else on the beach this entire time! I was getting too wrapped up in the view and his entrancing green eyes. Get a grip, Sydney! What do I really know about Gavin? I've seen his good side. What about the bad? I raised my head from his shoulder. "Let's play 20 questions. I go first," I announced.

"Okay. Go."

"Wait. It's not really 20 questions so much as an excuse to ask you about some things. I'm nosy, which you of all people should understand. It'll be yes or no questions but feel free to elaborate."

Gavin smiled. "Bring it."

"Do you love your job?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any allergies?"

"Haha, nope. Why did you ask that?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Maybe it's the doctor in me. Are you Italian?"

"Si’, cento percento italiano americano.”

I think I lost the ability to form sentences at that point. Could he get any sexier? Concentrate, Sydney. Don't let his charms side track you. I can't believe he knows Italian, though!

"Do you know any more Italian?"

"Yes, but only a couple more phrases and curse words I learned from my grandfather."

"Have you ever done extracurricular drugs?"

"Yes. Pot, once in high school. It wasn't really fun, in my opinion."

"What's your favorite movie of all time?"

"Hmmm, I'd have to say
The Fifth Element
. I always enjoy watching that."

"Thank God you didn't say
The Godfather
, or I would have rolled my eyes at you."

"Well, every man likes
The Godfather
. That movie was designed to capture our simple violent minds."

"At least you realize that. One, I don't like it simply because it’s more of a guy's movie and two, they say some rude things about black people. Which makes me wonder why so many black dudes love it so much."

"I don't remember that happening."

"How could you not remember that? They use the 'n' word and basically call black people animals."

"Sorry."

I smiled at him. "It's okay. Alright, next question. Have you ever been married?"

Gavin's eyebrows rose a bit in amusement. "No."

"Do you have any kids?"

Gavin's eyes widened and he shook his head furiously. "Whoa! No."

"Sorry but I have to ask these things." I don't give a damn if this is making him uncomfortable. I need to know. If these questions scare him off then I'll know he doesn’t respect my time and my emotional investment. "When’s the last time you had sex?"

Gavin thought about the question for a while. "It's been about a year and a half since I've done anything with anyone."

"Who was the last person? Were you dating or was it just..."

Gavin's tone changed dramatically. "It was with my ex-girlfriend of two years." He sounded far away. That's the only way I can describe it. But I had to press on.

"What triggered your depression?"

"My psychiatrist and I have come to the conclusion that I was mildly depressed for a while but after the break up I became, um, clinically depressed. But," he turned to me and gave a small smile, "I'm okay now."

I nodded. He hadn't evaded any of my questions. That was a good sign. He seemed to answer everything honestly. That's a great sign. I felt a little bit guilty about grilling him now that I saw how well he handled the whole thing. The question at the tip of my tongue was: How bad did it get? Did he try to, I don't know, commit suicide? But that was a question that should be asked later down the line. I really don't think he's the type of person to take it so far as to attempt to end his life. I'm sure he's stronger than that. There was another question I wanted to ask. I would be focusing on every word he said and how he said his answer. Every bit of body language, twitching of fingers, blinking patterns, everything, would be analyzed.

"Can you see yourself with me in the future?" My fingernails were almost piercing my palms, I was so nervous to hear his answer. I intended to ask this question to see how he really felt about us as an interracial couple. I was part angry and part anxious. I was angry that I had to ask this question at all. It's not fair that I have to worry about this. I was angry because I knew if Gavin didn't answer this question with confidence I was going to make a scene because all my fears were wrapped up in it. I'd probably kick sand in his eyes or something horrible like that. I was so anxious to hear his answer I don't think I breathed at all from the time I asked the question until the very last word of his answer.

"Sydney, I really, really like you," he said looking down at the sand. Then he looked over at me with those beautiful green eyes. He looked away and his left hand pulled at a thread on his pants. He can't even look at me. What's going on? "This is all different for me. I've never dated someone with this big of an age difference. I've never actually dated someone a different race than me." He turned and looked at me. "And, I've never felt this way, the way I feel about you, this quickly before and I think it's because this is different."

Wow.

"My relationship with my ex, I loved her, but she didn't feel the same way."

WHAT? Why is he talking to me about his stupid ex? Surely he wants sand in his face!

"Our relationship started off the wrong way so I never got to know who she really was before I thought I was in love with her. It was never like
this
with her. I couldn't joke around. It was always business with her. I thought that she was encouraging me to be a better, more focused person for my own benefit but really it was just her trying to attain the spoiled life she thought she was entitled to. As soon as she heard me complain about some little thing at work she would blow up at me, leave, and not be back until the next morning. I tried to make her happy and it was draining me emotionally.

"When she saw that I was getting more depressed and might need a little help to pick myself up I saw that she had no intention of being there for me. I confided in her about the depression I was feeling and suggested that maybe she needed to be more communicative with me. Sensing that she would have to actually put some effort into our relationship she cussed me out, belittling me for being weak-minded and not man enough for her. She knew how to break me, by saying I wasn’t man enough. I told her about my father so… she knew. I told her to leave at that point. Just to spite me she confessed she'd been cheating on me those last seven months of our relationship.

"That's when things got really bad for me. But, anyways, what I'm trying to say is, with you it's different. I don't feel like I have to grovel at your feet to have you care about me like it was with my ex. We are on the same level, even though to others we might seem too different for them to understand. And I can deal with all that mess from people if you and I end up being committed to each other in the future. I can deal with attitudes or comments from people if I know that I can have the peace and...rightness that I feel when I'm with you. Is 'rightness' even a word?" Gavin smiled unsurely at me.

"I think so," I said with a grin.

He'd said it. It took him forever to finally get to it, but he said the right thing. He could deal with our differences. It was good to hear it. I just hoped that he could actually follow through. I had to admit to myself that I was falling for him just as hard as he was falling for me, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to admit it to Gavin. This is only our second date! One of us has to pretend our feelings are progressing normally instead of freakily fast, and I guess that person is going to have to be me. I’ve never met a guy like Gavin. He wears his heart on his sleeve, which is dangerous. A sweetheart like him is just as easy to love as he is to screw over. It sounds like a lot of selfish people in his past have done the latter. Looking into his eyes I knew I could never take advantage of him, never.  

I rested my head on his shoulder again and watched the colors painting the sky. "How about we promise not to let age or race be an issue with us. Let's never hold it against each other. Pinky promise?"

"Promise," Gavin said as he locked his pinky with mine. "Time for us to go," Gavin sighed.

"What! Why?" I whined.

Gavin chuckled."You have to go to work. Remember?"

"Oh, yeah. Life, reality, I guess I have to go back to that. You know, I wouldn't have to work if you would be my sugar daddy already." I batted my eyelashes at him.

"If you want to be my sugar baby then you've got to give me some shugah." He joked.

Completely out of character, I leaned in and quickly gave him a peck on the lips. The startled look and goofy smile he gave me was priceless! It was just a brave joke, me kissing him, that I didn't think was of any consequence except to mess with him. But I saw in his eyes, as they looked from my lips back up to my eyes, that he wanted something more serious. It felt like time was slowing down as he leaned closer to me and time halted altogether when his lips met mine. I tingled all over, it was electrifying. I never thought a guy's lips could actually taste good! The only reason I pulled away from the kiss was my fear of getting fired from my job. "Oh no! I'm going to be late for work!" I stood up and slipped my flip flops back on. Gavin reached out and grabbed my hand and looked up at me to protest.

"No! No! I'll be your sugar daddy! Don't go!"

I smiled and started to walk away with him still holding onto my hand. I laughed as he held onto my hand as I walked away until it was impossible for him to stretch his arm any farther from where he was sitting. Then he plopped backwards into the sand, groaned loudly as he lay there on his back, and yelled 'Cazzo!' to the sky: Damn it!

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Sooo…Mom,” I said through a mouthful of frosted flakes cereal as I sat across from her at the breakfast table. “Did I tell you I’m dating a white, 29-year-old man?”

My mother abruptly stopped chewing and looked up at me. “Say what?”

“He’s a successful marketing manager at
Impera
advertisement. If that makes it any better.” I shoved another spoonful of cereal into my mouth. My mom isn’t money hungry. She just sees that on this planet a big key to happiness is money. I thought pointing out he had a well-paying job would soften her up to the idea.