Love Will (21 page)

“Sure, but… this doesn’t sound like me.”

“Yeah, read on,” she encourages me.”

“
‘Who is this?’ ‘It’s Will.’ ‘Prove it.’ ‘How?’ ‘What’s the answer to the math question you ask girls?’ ‘Y squared.’
Wait, you guessed Y squared?
”

“I didn’t figure it would be a number…”

“It’s a trick question. It
is
a number, but it’s answered in steps… nine
steps
.”

“Anyway, he called, and I had to answer and confess. And he was in a pretty shitty place. Some Brooke girl?”

“Evil woman…”

“A text break-up. The absolute worst,” she agrees. “So I told him you were here, and I invited him for breakfast but I told him I wasn’t going to wake you up. I hope that’s okay.”

“For Peron, it’s fine. Come here,” I say, pulling her to me for a kiss. We’d discovered last night that she
can
kiss in a more casual way when both of our lips began to feel numb and tingly after a few hours of suction. “See, we can do
this
in public,” I tease her, letting her hands explore my backside again at will. I pick her up and set her on the countertop just inside the kitchen.

“If you take me in public, I’ll kiss you however I want to, and you’ll like it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I say with a chuckle, moving my lips to her neck as her ankles latch behind my back. “I would never stop you. If you wanted to do
this
in public, I wouldn’t stop you.”

“Will?” she asks quietly, releasing me.

“Yeah?” I back out from between her legs and push her knees together before taking her hands in mine.

“Do you think we’ll ever get a chance to go out in public together?”

“Are you opening today?” I ask her, knowing this is my last day in town.

“What’s the point?”

“I don’t know… your customers depend on you? There are probably a lot of stir crazy people wandering the streets today. It’d probably be good business…”

“You’re right,” she says, then sighs. She hops off the counter and heads back into the dining area. I didn’t think she
was
.

I follow her and put my hand on her waist, standing behind her. “I hope we do, Shea. I don’t want this to be a one-night stand.” She turns around to face me, and holds up two fingers. “A
two-
night stand, sorry.”

“Technically, it wouldn’t be. It’s kind of like our fourth date tonight.”

“Kind of, yeah. That’s a lot of dates in my world.” I grab her hand again and pull her through the restaurant, unlocking the door and taking her outside.

“Hold on.” She sticks her head back inside. “Scarlett, we’ll be back in a few minutes. Lock the door for me, okay?”

“Yes, boss.”

“So she’s a waitress…” I say, putting two and two together.

“I conveniently forgot to tell my friendliest waitress that we weren’t opening this morning. She can’t let a customer leave the place without a smile on their face, so… I knew she’d be good for Peron.”

“Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome.”

We both look up and down the street. “Where’s a popular place to go on a Saturday morning?”

“The Maubry actually shows cartoons and serves pancakes on Saturdays.”

“Shut up.
Really?
”

“Yeah. My pancakes are better, but–”

“We’re not going for the pancakes.”

“Okay,” she says, looking at me, confused. The sidewalks are almost clear the whole way there, just a wet mess with white ice and snow caked in the corners at this point. Shea weaves her fingers with mine. I pick up our connected hands, inspecting them, realizing I have never in my life held a woman’s hand. I held a girl’s hand when I was a teenager, but after Laila, this romantic gesture had no place in my life.

I know this is significant, and even though she made this move to link our hands together, I would have done it. It feels like the most natural way to be with her; to walk down the street with her. We make our way to the venue easily, and the guy selling tickets recognizes me from our show.

“Will Rosser.” He shakes my hand. “Hope you’ve enjoyed your extended stay in Minneapolis.”

“It’s been quite memorable. We’d like two tickets.”

“Just go on in.”

“Thanks, man. Hope to come back again someday.”

“Anytime.”

I hold the door to the main room, and am surprised to see how crowded it is inside. There are only a few tables in the back with vacant seats. Shea starts to move toward one of them, but I put my arm around her and guide her to the stage, urging her up the stairs when she shows her reluctance.

“What are you doing?” she whispers, smiling, showing the dimple.

“Please come up here with me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“But everyone’s gonna be looking at us.”

“I know. I’m about to make sure of that.”

“What are you…? Will…” she whines.

“Please?” I kiss her once on the stairs. “Look, there’s commercials… or something. What is this?” I ask her.

“They show vintage commercials.”

I tug on her hand gently and she comes with me. “Uh… hey everyone!” I yell, just now remembering that I really don’t like talking to crowds.
Bad time to remember that
. There’s a reason I’m not the front man of our band.

“Hey!” I get a response from quite a few people, likely either hung over or still drunk from last night.

“Just want to say that I really like this girl, Shea, and uh… I’m gonna kiss her. Right now. If that’s okay with you. And her. Is that okay?”

The crowd lets me know it’s okay, and when I look at Shea, she does, too.

“Don’t make me pass out up here. I’m already nervous as fuck,” I whisper in her ear.

“You’re so cute,” she says, putting her hands on my cheeks and pulling my face to hers. I get a nice, public kiss from her, except she releases the hand closest to the audience to run it down my chest and around me to grab my ass.

That gets the audience cheering, and our laughing breaks up the kiss. Shea’s clapping for her brazenness. I have to applaud her, too. She’s so amazing and charming and lovely and
God bless Mother Nature
for this mother fucking blizzard.

“So, no pancakes?” I ask her after helping her off the stage.

“I need to get back. You’re right. I need to call in some staff and open up the place.”

“I hate being right.”

We’re both deliberately slow as we walk back.

“So, uh… have you ever dated a black girl before?” she asks me.

“Dated? No, but I’ve been with a few,” I tell her, being careful with the information I reveal because I don’t know what she does and doesn’t want to know.
More than a few
would be a more accurate count, but that’s definitely TMI.

“We’re not good enough to date?” she asks. I can’t tell if she’s kidding or truly offended.

I release her hand. “I’ve
dated
one girl.” I stress the word with air quotes, then take her hand back in mine. “She broke my fucking heart. I’ve never given anyone else the opportunity again, Shea. I don’t date. I fucking hate this.”

“Hate what?” she asks.

“The fact that you keep asking questions that will eventually make you hate
me
, because I’m this close to giving you that opportunity. I mean, I already like you more than I’ve ever allowed myself to like a woman, so the damage is already done, but I can’t stand myself for the things I’ve done in the past, and I don’t blame you for needing to know–”

“I’ll take it.”

“Take what?”

“The opportunity. If you give me the opportunity to date you, Will, I’ll take it.”

We’re mid-conversation when we get back to her restaurant, and I’m not ready to stop talking about this. Shea knocks on the door, waiting for Scarlett to unlock it for us. Once we’re inside, she walks with purpose to the kitchen with me fast on her heels. I wave briefly to Peron on the way.

“Will, there is something genuinely good about you. On paper, you don’t look so great, but when you stand in front of me, and just exist as the man that you are, you’re extraordinary. I’ve never met anyone like you. And I wouldn’t pass up this chance to get to know you better. You aren’t your past. You aren’t the things you’ve done. You’re the decisions you’ll make moving forward. The things you do. The man you are now and the man you’ll become.”

“I think your opinion of me is inflated.”

“And I think you’re too hard on yourself,” she says, matter of fact. “So, uh… when do you think you’ll decide?”

“Decide…”

“If I can have the opportunity? You said you were close to…”

“That was just a little self-preservation, in case you didn’t want it. It’s yours to take, but Shea, it’s not gonna be easy–on you, or me. I’m on the road until mid-March, and then I’m going back to New York.”

“Details,” she says.

“Wow. How can you be so nonchalant about it?”

“Because I want to
try
. No point in focusing on the obstacles we’ll face.”

“Okay,” I say, nodding my head. “Sounds reasonable. Hey…”

“Yeah?”

“You ever date a white guy?”

“Daddy was white,” she tells me. “This is the norm for me. I’ve dated all kinds of guys.”

“Never an astrophysicist, though.”

“First time for everything,” she says.

“Feeling better?” I ask Peron on the way back to the hotel.

“Kind of, yeah,” he says. “I think I’m just fat and happy from the food, but whatever it takes.”

“Shea’s a good cook.”

“She is,” he agrees. “So this is where you’ve been all week?”

“Yeah.”

“So what’s going on?”

“I don’t know… I guess I’m gonna, like, date her.”

“What do you mean, you’re gonna
date
her?”

“Go out with her and stuff.”

“How’s that going to work while we’re on tour?”

“Details,” I say, quoting Shea.

“So you’re
exclusively
dating her, you mean?”

“I think so,” I tell him, not exactly sure.

“That’s never gonna work. It’s a nice gesture, Will, and I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but no. Sorry.”

“Well, don’t just fucking write me off like that.”

“I’ve known you for years, Will. The only time
fidelity
and
Will Rosser
will ever intersect in the universe is in this very sentence. Never again.”

“Fuck you, Peron.”

“I don’t know what happened over the past few days, but it sounds to me like you finally got some, she’s apparently good enough for a few return trips, and you’re on some natural high, making rash decisions and ridiculous statements.”

I adjust the guitar on my shoulder and scratch my chin, wishing I’d shaved, trying to brush off Peron’s estimation of my status with Shea.

“What’s going on with Brooke? Why the breakdown this morning?”

“I got an email from her best friend. She said Brooke met this guy months ago and was talking to him behind my back… and that they started dating the night we left town.”

“Some best friend. Why’d she tell you that?”

“Because she thought I had a right to know the truth, and she hoped it would help me to move on from her. That bitch was just waiting for me to leave… I can’t believe it. And now he’s probably sleeping with her in
my
bed, in
my
apartment that she moved into with
me
.”

“You co-signed the lease last time. It’s as much her place as it is yours.”

“After three years together, I thought it was safe to do that. It’s still my damn bed. Hey, what movers did you guys use when you put your shit in storage?”

“We didn’t,” I remind him.

“Damn it. Well, I’m calling movers today to pick up my bed. Can I have them put it in your storage place?”

“You should pay extra to have them do it in the middle of the night,” I suggest. “And yes. My brother has a key. I’m sure we can make arrangements to have someone go unlock it for them.”

“Thanks.”

When we get back to the hotel, the rest of the guys are gone. “I think they were going to check on the bus and then to see a movie,” Peron tells me.

“In the mood to write?” He shrugs his shoulders. “Take this.” I hand him my other acoustic. “I’ve been working on this song, and I need your help with the bridge. You’re good with those.” I give him the lyrics to
Done Away
, the song I wrote yesterday while Shea was working.