True L̶o̶v̶e̶ Story (3 page)

Can I just clear the air right now by saying that I love Jesus? I do. I believe he’s way better than we give him credit for. I love Christians. Okay, I love SOME Christians and the rest only because I HAVE to. I love my parents, period. I just don’t want to be a preacher’s wife. Now that that’s settled, hopefully we can move on.

Michael has a thing for my feet. When I said we “make out,” it’s not that we do a ton of that, but a couple nights ago, he did this thing where he washed my feet—I know, it’s a little weird when I think about it, but I went with it and have no regrets. After he finished washing them, he slowly licked and sucked every single one of my toes. He took his sweet time, and I thought I was going to come unhinged. Never in a million years did I think I would want that done to me EVER, but land sakes, it did things to me. Things that I can’t even fully explain just yet.

Is sucking someone’s toes off even considered making out?

Michael’s eyes pop when he gets a look at me. Uh, yeah, he’s not going to have trouble finding anything now. Shoot. I didn’t think this dress through.

“You look amazing!” He kisses me and hugs me tight. I think I just heard him groan.

I hear my dad before I see him. “Hey kids, you ready?”

Michael jumps back like a scalded dog. I laugh and he shakes his head at me, knowing he’s caught.

I kiss his cheek and call out to my dad. “We’re ready.”

“Come on, let’s ride together,” he yells from the back door.

Michael leans into my ear and says, “I don’t know whether to ask you to wear this dress every day or to never ever wear it again.”

“Wow, who knew something that actually fits could cause such torment?” I grin mischievously.

“You’re going to get me into so much trouble.”

“I’m pretty sure you have my parents wrapped.”

We round the corner, and my dad is holding the back door open for us.

“Michael, looking good. Hey, Rosie, you’re looking good too.”

I could wear a tow sack and my dad would think I look good.

“Thanks, Dad,” I kiss his cheek.

“Anthony, how are ya?” Michael shakes my dad’s hand.

When we get to the restaurant, I go inside with my mom. Michael and my dad are finishing up a discussion and are taking too long to get inside. I am HUNGRY, and you don’t get in my way when I’m hungry. I am about to ask my mom if she sees the Roberts when I see
him
.

“MOM, Ian Sterling is here. That’s Ian
Sterling
. Look!” I am clutching her arm and about to pass out.

She takes a look at the hunk in front of us and shakes her head, “I don’t think so, dear. That
is
Jeff and Laila he’s talking to, though.”

“It’s him. I know it’s him.”

Just then Jeff and Laila turn around and spot my mom. “Charlie, hello!” They walk forward and take turns hugging her and then see me. “Sparrow, oh my word, you’re all grown up! I can’t believe it!” Jeff looks thoroughly pleased to see me.

Laila is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. I shyly hug her, and she comments on how pretty I am. “Thank you. You’re so beautiful,” I nervously say and then I feel silly.

Jeff turns around and says, “And we brought a dear friend of ours, Ian Sterling? Ian, come meet Charlie and Sparrow. Where is Anthony?”

Ian steps forward and takes my hand. I immediately feel my skin blaze; the flames start in my hair, down my face, neck, guts, all the way down my entire body … at least that’s how it feels. He is staring down into my eyes. The way he looks at me, I feel exposed, raw, awake…

I’ve been looking for you, his eyes are saying.

You’ve found me now,
I’m certain my eyes are responding.

Actually, what he really says is, “Sparrow Fisher. There’s a story there, I’m sure. I’m Ian.” He grins and squeezes my hand. I melt. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’ve been looking for you,” I say. NO! Did I just say that out loud? Ohgodohgodohgodohgod. Please tell me I did not just say that out loud.

He smirks. Oh, he’s so hot. Pretty, even. However, there is nothing but raw masculinity bouncing off him. “Have you? Well, now you’ve found me. I wasn’t aware we knew each other? I would have remembered this face.” He runs his eyes from my head down to my toes and back up again, painfully slow. “I would have remembered you for sure,” he leans down and whispers.

I’m dying. I wish a hole would swallow me up now. I’ve got to find a way out of this. I can’t tell him…

“Jeff!” My dad’s boisterous voice fills the air and I breathe a sigh of relief. They hug and I feel an arm go around my waist. I assume it’s my mom until Michael says, “And you are?”

I’d completely forgotten Michael. Oops.

Ian lets go of my hand to shake Michael’s and my hand has never felt so bereft. I hear Michael say, “Sparrow’s boyfriend,” but it sounds very far away. My eyes have never left Ian’s face. Ian looks back at me, and he seems amused.

“She’s stunning; you’re a lucky man,” I hear him say.

“I know. I’m so glad she’s
mine
.”

This pulls me out of my stupor and my temper flares. I glare at Michael, but he is oblivious. He’s too busy strutting his peacock feathers to notice I want to take his head off.

When I look back at Ian, his eyes are laughing, and have a light in them that makes me feel faint. His lips curve up and I stare at that mouth, wishing it was on mine.

What in the world is happening to me.

I try to snap out of it as we find our seats. Unsure of how it even happens, I find myself with Michael on my left and Ian on my right.

“There you are, Brady,” Laila pats the seat next to her and across from me. “Brady, this is Sparrow and Michael. And you remember Anthony and Charlie from their visit last fall?” Brady nods and shakes everyone’s hand. He looks about twelve and seems very shy.

I try to concentrate on the menu, but Ian’s leg is flush against mine. We’re on the booth side of the table. The other side has chairs. I should have sat in a chair, so I could breathe and so I could look at him. No, this is better. I don’t need to breathe anyway.

After we’ve ordered, Ian turns his whole body toward mine, places his elbow on the table, rests his head on his hand and stares at me. He slowly begins to ask question after question. It’s at this point that I tell God I’ll do whatever He wants, I’ll even BEHAVE—and that’s saying a LOT for me—if He’ll just please not let me get hives and if He’ll also please let all my words come out intelligibly.

“So what are you into, Sparrow Fisher?” he asks. “Besides Michael, that is…”

I roll my eyes at him.

He grins. “Unless, you’d like to talk about that. I’m sure Michael would be pleased.”

I look at Michael and for the moment, he’s mesmerized by something Jeff is saying.

“How long have you been dating?” he asks.

I don’t want to talk about Michael with him. “Four months,” I answer.

“Ah, a new romance,” he teases. “So he shouldn’t take it too hard…” his voice trails off.

Something in his tone makes me defensive. My mother has drilled being “hard to get” as far back as I can remember. “We’re doing just fine, thank you very much.”

He raises his eyebrows and continues studying my face.

In middle school they used to say, “
Take a picture, it’ll last longer
.” But I’m studying him just as thoroughly and don’t want him to call ME out, so I resist the sass.

“What about you? Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Why? Do you want to fill the spot?” The mischief is back. He’s something else.

“You’re quite the tease, aren’t you,” I laugh and want to say,
Yes, I’ll fill the spot. Pick me, pick me.
I’m startled when Michael takes my hand, and I feel the first twinge of guilt.
Took you long enough
, I berate my conscience.

“You seem able to take it,” Ian replies.

The waitress comes with our food, and I promise, she practically lays her entire chest on Ian as she sets my food down. He looks at her and smiles. “Well, hello,” he says. She stands up and brazenly tucks her number in his pocket … the pocket in his jeans, no less. “Okay … thanks?” He looks back at me and raises his eyebrows.

“That happen often?” I ask.

“It happens,” he shrugs.

“Ah, so pretty much old hat, then.” I feel indescribably angry and sad that I have no right to this emotion when it comes to Ian Sterling.

He pulls the number out of his pocket and hands it to me. “If you’d put your number on this paper, it would be worth something,” he says quietly.

“Are you really hitting on me with my boyfriend sitting right here?” I am both proud and appalled by his audacity. Scratch that, I am
loving
his audacity.

I’m a horrible person. Let’s not even try to sugarcoat it.

He looks over at Michael, who has my hand, but is laughing at something Jeff has said. “Jeff’s keeping him occupied. He’s good that way.” He leans in closer and gets right in my face. “Your boyfriend doesn’t seem very attentive,” he whispers.

“Oh, he’s attentive,” I whisper back.

“Well, I guess if you like them like that.”

“Don’t you worry about what I like.”

“Can’t promise you that.”

“Why not?”

“Well, look at you. I already want to steal you.” With these last two words, his nose bumps mine and for a moment, I think he is actually going to kiss me. My stomach takes a nosedive into my feet. I’m pretty sure I turn magenta.

Wanton Waitress—now that’s a better description for this tart than my hair, right?—has to ruin the moment by checking to see if everyone is
okay
. I haven’t eaten a single bite. I stare her down as she returns for more of Ian. She doesn’t notice me. She does, however, make sure to put on a show as she walks to another table. If there was a pole in the vicinity, she would be
Worrr-king It
right now.

“So you changed the subject before … what do you like to do, Sparrow?”

“Uh, well, lots of things,” my voice sounds shaky and I want to raise my fist to the heavens and force God to honor our agreement, however one-sided it might have been.

Ian smiles. “Lots … of
what
?”

“Books,” I say firmly. “I’m crazy about books.”

He laughs. “Okay. That’s cool.”

“I like to read them and write them,” I say shyly.

Hello, my name is Sparrow and I am a nerd.

He lifts his eyebrows, and his eyes land on my mouth. “God, everything you say is hot.” He runs his hands through his hair, making it go another equally fabulous direction. I wish I could do that. “So let me get this straight … you look like
this
” —he waves his hand up and down in my direction— “and you’re a book-smart, writer goddess too?” He inches closer to my face again, and I am positive he can hear my heart pounding. “Do you have glasses and wear your hair up with a pencil, too? That would be too…” He closes his eyes for a second and when he opens them, his pupils are huge swimming pools. “I don’t know if I could even take it.” He shakes his head.

I laugh hard then, coming far too close to snorting for my comfort.
Keep it together, Fisher.
I clear my throat and look down at my food, momentarily thinking it can save me. It does nothing to help, but does stare back up at me, looking tasty. I try to dig in, but seem to have lost my appetite. Ian doesn’t seem to be eating either.

“How do you know Jeff and Laila?” I ask, trying to lighten the air.

“Jeff is actually my third cousin. We just got back in touch a few years ago and have gotten a little closer. I stay with them when I come through San Francisco. They also have a house in L.A. I’m there a lot, too.”

“Do you come through here a lot?”

“Not San Jose, really,” he says. “I’ll be back in San Francisco next week, though. Laila mentioned you’re all coming out next weekend?” He nods his head toward me.

“All?”

“Yeah, this whole clan,” his eyes twinkle. “You gonna bring Michael?” he whispers.

“You’re impossible.”

“You’re delicious.”

I ignore him. It’s the only way I won’t kiss him. “Where are you off to this week?”

“Dallas. I’m playing at the House of Blues a couple nights this week. Have a few rehearsals to show up to … I’m a musician,” he explains.

“I know.”

“Oh, okay.”

“I heard you play … four years ago,” I confess.

“Really! Where was this?”

“It was at a huge concert in Central Park.”

“Central Park? You saw me in Central Park four years ago and you’re just now telling me?”

“We just met.”

“Yeah, an hour ago. We’ve covered a lot of ground in that time, wouldn’t you say?”

I get flustered yet again. Shoot, just when I think I’m getting past the nerves a little. “Yes, I would tend to agree.”

He grins that smirky grin and I swear he’s thinking of me dressed as a librarian again … which doesn’t help me calm down at all. I raise one eyebrow and he runs his hand over his mouth, attempting to look serious.

“So Central Park … tell me about it.”

“I saw you before you played. I had no idea who you were. I was there with my parents. My dad was there for a crusade. Did Jeff tell you my dad is a preacher?”

Ian nods.

“We really only had one free day and spent it at the park, listening to the music. At one point, I spotted you by the stage, and the next thing I knew, you were going up there. Your set blew everyone completely away. I’ve never heard anything like it.”

It’s his turn to be flustered. I’m touched that he seems a bit embarrassed by my flattery. I’m sure it’s something he hears all the time. He is truly amazing.

His phone beeps and he looks down, frustrated that our conversation is interrupted. “Oh, wow. I have to go. Honestly, I thought I’d be thrilled to have an excuse to leave, but I’d give anything to stay now that I’ve met you.” His eyes are so genuine, I actually believe him. “I have a meeting in a half hour.”

“Oh. Well … it was really nice to meet you,” I stutter. I am surprised by the emotion in my voice.

His voice sounds thick too. “Sparrow, the pleasure is all mine, I can assure you. You’ve made a forgettable day memorable. Hell, you’ve made it positively newsworthy.” He’s smiling, but there’s a sadness behind his eyes. He grabs my hand and kisses it.