Man of My Dreams (6 page)

Read Man of My Dreams Online

Authors: Faith Andrews

BOOK: Man of My Dreams
8.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Grace smiles, erasing any earlier doubts. “You’re the bomb diggity bomb, Mia. And I like you…I like you
a lot
.” Goddamn
Dumb and Dumber.
Isn’t it supposed to be a guy’s favorite movie, not my girly best friend’s?

 

 

The Room is exactly the way we left it. The woodsy smell of brick oven pizza, the musty basement air, the lava lamps illuminating the acne scarred teenagers trying to score a hook-up. And they all look so
young
. How could two years make such a major difference?

We find an empty couch over in the corner by the cliché of a jukebox. Grace rummages through her bag and pulls out a beaded change purse, jingling its contents for me.

“What’ll it be? The Fugees or Ace of Base?”

“Oh God, Grace. Anything but Ace of Base.”

She laughs, probably remembering a time when
The Sign
played on repeat for an entire weekend. We’d made up a ridiculous dance with props and everything. She wore a pair of white go-go looking boots and a pleather pink trench coat while singing into a hairbrush. The memory makes me shake my head, relieved that we’ve grown up a little.

I watch her tiny frame, lit up by the orange and pink lights of the jukebox, wondering what she decided on. As she walks back over, Matchbox Twenty’s familiar opening to
3 A.M.
rushes through the machine. It
brings me back to waiting on lines for concert tickets and memorizing song lyrics from the inside of the CD jacket cover, all by the light of the moon.

I walk up to the bar to grab two root beers and that’s when I think my eyes are playing tricks on me. I bring my fists up to rub them, like a cartoon character, expecting to hear a squeaky sound to accompany the motion. This can’t be right. Of all the places, of all the times…Noah Matheson walks through the doors of this dingy hangout.

I silently pray that my body language doesn’t betray me, or my boyfriend, right now. But seeing Noah causes a million unfulfilled memories to flutter through me like teeny tiny sparks of wistfulness. I lower my gaze and search over my shoulder for Grace. Maybe there’s a chance for us to jet out of here before he sees us and I resort to the same old pathetic obsessing. I want to trust myself, or the sensible part of me that is committed to Declan. But holy heart failure Batman, it’s Noah Matheson! I never got closure. Hell, I never got an opening! This is absurd. I’m not a lovesick girl anymore. I’m a twenty year old woman
in
love. There’s a difference. And what I have with Declan is the real thing. The crush I had for Noah, whatever I thought I felt for him is—

Holy crap, he looks good!

I snatch up the root beers and sprint over to Grace who is still oblivious to the fact that my reason for going to high school every day is breathing the same air as me. “Grace!” I whisper sharply. “Did you see who just walked in?”

She narrows her eyes and scans the room. She shrugs her shoulders when she seems to have taken inventory of every single person here and then her eyes grow wide. Really freaking wide.

“No effing way. What are the odds? I mean, seriously, Mia. Of all the gin joints in all the world?”

For a minute I think she’s being sarcastic. Maybe this was her master plan all along, but even Grace doesn’t have that much against Declan. She knows how devastated I was that night after Lisa’s party. She watched me cry most of the summer over
not
kissing Noah. But by the time I left for college, the missed opportunity stung less, even if a faint tingle remained for a while. I fought through it by hooking up and having fun and by the time I met Declan, six months ago, Noah wasn’t even a thought.

But now here he is, in all his college-jock glory and he is very much a current notion.

I reach for my purse, gritting my teeth and telling Grace of our escape plan when I feel a tap on my shoulder.
Oh God, no.
Two years ago that simple touch would have had me tap dancing, tonight I want to run away.

“Mia Page? Is that you?”

Of course it’s me, you dumb jock. I haven’t changed that much since you left me high and dry.
“Yes?” I play it cool, spinning around to face him. Then I do my best surprised face and smile, “Noah? Hi! What are you doing here?”

He leans in for a polite kiss on the cheek and the smell of his cologne sends my eyes rolling to the back of my head. I’m back in third period calculus dreaming of a tender first kiss with Westmont’s star short stop.

When he finally speaks, I snap back to the here and now. “Wow, what a surprise running in to you here. I thought I’d be the only one
home
for spring break. Guess I’m not the only loser.”

Grace lets out an exaggerated cackle and I want to punch her.

“Nope, not the only loser. You remember Grace, don’t you?”

He nods, “You two were inseparable. How could I forget? Nice to see you again, Grace.”

Wow, so he remembers Grace and that she was always by my side. Must mean he noticed me more than I thought he did.
Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod!
My cheeks warm and my skin feels tingly.
Why didn’t I know this then?
“So?” I say, awkwardly, trying to remain calm.

“So?” he replies, just as awkwardly.

Grace interjects with something other than a two letter word. “Noah, why don’t you and your friends join us? We just got here and it’s a pretty dead scene. We could use the company.”

She looks at me for approval.
It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?
I shoot an amiable smile at Noah and his friends, welcoming them to our secluded corner couch.

After a few more root beers, a shared pizza and a bunch of songs from senior year, the four of us are laughing, reminiscing and having a great time. Why couldn’t it have been this simple in high school? You know how many times I wished for a night just like this one? And now that we’re only home for seven more days, and I’m unavailable, my wish is being granted. Unbelievable.

When it looks like the crowd has dwindled and The Room is ready to call it a night, Grace sneaks off to the jukebox, leaving me alone with Noah. Those spectacular eyes and their hypnotic charm fix themselves on my lips. I have to be dreaming. Is this for real? If he leans in for a kiss there will be no turning back.
Declan, Mia. Remember Declan?

I hear the haunting keys of a piano—
Closing Time
—perfect way to end the night. Appropriate too, except, of course, for the part about taking someone home.

“I think it’s time to go now, Noah.” That took every single ounce of valor possible.

“Mia. I—this was fun. Can we do it again some time?” His hand is on my knee now, keeping me put, waiting for an answer.

“Noah, I have a boyfriend. I don’t think that would be a good idea.” I break away from his commanding stare. If I don’t, I won’t be able to stand my ground.

“Well, he’s one lucky guy. I always thought you were beautiful.”

Now you tell me? Now!?!
It takes everything I’ve got not to sink into this corduroy couch or pull him towards me for my long sought after kiss. I try to camouflage an uncomfortable gulp, hoping I don’t stutter when I answer, “That’s really sweet, Noah. I never knew you felt that way.”

So many things run through my head. Had I known how he felt things could have been so different. We could have been a couple. Maybe I wouldn’t be away at school. There would be no Declan.
Declan.
The sound of his name and a flash of his beautiful face rushes past me, bringing me down from my high. This isn’t right. I wouldn’t want Declan flirting with an old crush or thinking about what might have been.

“I have to go. It was so good to see you.” I turn to walk away, but Noah grabs my shoulder and spins me around to face him.

“If you and that boyfriend of yours don’t work out, you know where to find me.”

He kisses my cheek, his soft moist lips lingering a little too long. “Goodbye, Noah. And thank you.”

I’m not quite sure what I’m thanking him for. Maybe for the recognition I always wanted or the affirmation that we could have been something. But mainly my thank you is intended for the fact that I will be far from here, and Noah’s proposition, one week from now.

 

 

The next day I try to prepare myself for my boyfriend’s arrival. I am so angry that I’ve let my encounter with Noah taint my feelings for Declan.

Less than twenty-four hours ago I was reeling to introduce him to my parents and Grace. Today I wonder if our plans are premature. If seeing Noah and hearing his intentions can unravel me this way and plant this unexpected seed of doubt in my head, then maybe my feelings weren’t as strong as I thought.

Believe it or not, it’s Grace who makes me realize I’m being irrational. “Mia, I’ve heard you swoon over Declan. The two of you can’t seem to get enough of each other. Shit, you’re bringing him home to meet your damn parents. Even when you were drooling over Noah, you never lit up the way you do when you talk about Declan. Last night was a fluke. You’re just all nostalgic. Nothing more, nothing less.”

I’m not sure when Grace became the voice of reason; I must have missed it while I was away at school. But I try with all my might to fight this urge to find Noah and give in to the curiosity that kept me up most of the night.

I think I still need more coaxing. Someone to tell me I’m being ridiculous. “Grace, what if I’m walking away from what is supposed to be? I didn’t have the balls to confront him in high school and maybe that’s because he never seemed interested, but last night, he was very interested. Grace, he made me feel all dizzy and giddy and…oh, God, I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted it
so
bad. And he did
too
. I’ll never get the image of those gorgeous, sexy eyes staring at my lips out of my head.” I think that image will forever be branded in my brain.

“Oh please, would’ve, could’ve, should’ve. I’m telling you you’re reading too deep into it. Sure, maybe he wanted to kiss you, but that doesn’t mean he’s ready to be your boyfriend. Not the kind of boyfriend that Declan is. You told me yesterday that he’s the one, now you’re second guessing yourself because of one minor brush with an insignificant kiss with someone from the past? I thought you were supposed to be the sensible one. Think clearly for a second.”

And I do. I force myself to think rationally about what it would feel like to see Declan every day at school and not be his. To break his heart for a maybe chance with someone who can only give me long distance,
if
that’s even what he wants. Suddenly, images that enrage me corrupt my mind—Declan walking on campus with his arm around another girl; singing to her on stage at the Alibi; kissing her by our bus stop. I come to my senses.

I’ve been able to live without Noah for a long time now, but the idea of living without Declan is unfathomable. I breathe a sigh of relief, content with the decision to forget everything that happened last night. I check the time, shaking all the worry from my head. “Thank you, Grace. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Or Declan. I’m sorry for being such a basket case.”

She gives me a tight squeeze and then pinches my nose between her fingers. “Glad I could help. Now let’s go get ready. I’m excited to finally meet the guy who won your heart and made you kick your ridiculous dreams of Noah Matheson to the curb.”

When Declan pulls up to my parent’s house, all the mind-blowing feelings rush back to me like a massive tidal wave engulfing the shore. I smile as he steps out of the car and meets my gaze. His eyes light up with a radiance that would put the Macy’s fireworks display to shame. Seeing that I do that to him stills my racing heart.

I run over to him, unable to wait a minute longer to wrap my arms around him. “Hi, babe. I missed you.” I kiss him with my arms around his neck.

He lifts me up, squeezing my waist. “I missed you too,” he says against my lips before deepening the kiss.

In a matter of mere moments, we are lost in each other, using the side of his car for leverage. Beyond the rush of blood thumping in my ears, I hear giggling followed by the stern, annoyed sound of a throat clearing. I reluctantly break away from our passionate kiss to see that Grace is the giggler and my father, hands crossed against his chest, is the throat clearer.

Other books

Bad Girls in Love by Cynthia Voigt
The Clintons' War on Women by Roger Stone, Robert Morrow
Relentless Pursuit by Donna Foote
Mercenary by Anthony, Piers
Jacks and Jokers by Matthew Condon
Nadie lo conoce by Mari Jungstedt
Treachery's Tools by L. E. Modesitt, Jr.