Man of My Dreams(53)
“No! I don’t want to go home.”
His eyes light up—they are a sea of addicting green. “Would I be a real cad if I didn’t take you to the after party? I’m kind of enjoying talking to just you. We can grab a few drinks, or coffee...whatever you’re comfortable with.”
I’m unusually comfortable, even if my heart is jumping out of my chest. But this song needs to be over...please, God. Something less sultry, less distracting.
I spring up and giggle when One Week by Bare Naked Ladies starts up.
“Drinks are good. You pick the place. Sorry for all the drama. Weren’t things so much simpler back then?”
“Hells, yeah. Now let’s see if you remember all the words to this song... Chickity China the Chinese chicken...”
He doesn’t miss a beat or stumble on the tongue twister lyrics. Instead he sings the whole song while I just stare at him, smiling, in awe of his strange talent. If he weren’t so hot and if the sexual tension between the two of us weren’t so damn intense, we could probably be great friends. I’m suddenly resentful for everything I might have missed.
“I never led a girl on by giving her my lucky eraser.”
We’ve resorted to playing “I never” and unfortunately since I haven’t really lived much, I’m losing. Which means I’m very tipsy.
He looks at me like I’m crazy, not taking a drink because he believes he’s innocent of my accusation.
“Drink up, buddy. You’re guilty!”
“What are you talking about? I never...” his expression changes. It goes from positively sure to utterly confused in a matter of seconds.
He brings the dark brown beer to his lips, taking a drink from the frosty glass. “I nearly forgot about that. Mia Page, you have a memory like an elephant.”
I take a swig of my much lighter draft, giggling as I swallow. “You have no idea how the mind of a teenage girl works, do you? When you handed me that eraser it was like handing me an invitation to prom. I thought for sure it meant you liked me, that it was the beginning to something. Maybe we’d hang out which would turn into a date which would turn into my first kiss. But, alas, you left me high and dry. And the eraser was the last thing you gave me, besides of course, a broken heart.” Shit. This is the beer talking right?
“Wow.” His lips form a straight line. He places his beer back down on the bar, leaning back in the stool. “First of all, when was your first kiss?”
“Billy Denker. November 1993.” But the kiss was nothing to brag about. We had banged noses before swapping spit. I think it might have been his first kiss too. We had no idea what we were doing.
“Denks got a piece of you and I didn’t? What the hell?” he pouts, if you can believe that a beautiful beast of a grown man could pout.
“Hey, don’t be mad at me. I wanted you to be the first, but you never made your move and I didn’t even know how to make a move. Sorry you lost your shot, Noah Matheson, but it’s either shit or get off the pot. You never seemed to get off the pot.”
He throws his head back and slaps his knee. “Damn, I’ve never heard that expression before. I’m so stealing it. And I’m sorry about the whole pot thing. I was distracted in school. Too much going on—my parents on my back about making good grades and getting a scholarship. I didn’t even date much, never even went out with a girl for longer than a few weeks. I was too into the game to care. But it doesn’t mean I didn’t notice you. I always thought you were beautiful. I wanted to kiss you too, but the timing was never right and I didn’t think it was fair to make any girl second to baseball. Especially not a girl like you. But you can’t say I didn’t try that night—two years after high school?”
“You mean that night at The Room?”
He nods, taking another long pull of his beer.
“I was already with Declan, Noah. The opportunity was gone.”
“Seems like a reoccurring theme with us.” He drums his fingers against the laminated wooden bar, looking ahead, not at me. “Remember that song by Eagle-Eye Cherry?”
I shrug my shoulders. It’s not ringing a bell.
“Save Tonight. That’s what I wish I could do. He says something about delaying misery. God, I wish we could just stay in this moment, Mia.”
Now I remember it. That song reminds me of so many nights that just slipped by, another whisper to the wind.
“This is bad—on so many levels—just so flipping bad.” I shake my head. This is all starting to weigh on me. Talking about the past, kissing, missed opportunities. Sure my head is fuzzy from the alcohol, but I am 100% coherent and it scares me that I am so close to letting down my guard—to stooping to Declan’s level—and getting the kiss I’ve always wanted.