My Favorite Mistake(41)

“Hello, everyone. I’m sorry to disturb your dinner. I’ll only take a few moments of your time.” He adjusted the strap, and I could tell he was nervous. His knee was going a mile a minute. “I just wanted to play a little song for my girl, Taylor, over there. She agreed to come here with me tonight, even after I wasn’t very nice to her. This is part of my apology. I hope you like it.”

Everyone stared at me, and I felt like I was under a spotlight roughly the luminosity of the sun. I wasn’t a big blusher, but I did right then.

He started the song, and I recognized it immediately as Fix You by Coldplay. It was an older song, but one that I’d always loved. I’d never told him that I did and I wondered if he’d picked it for that, or he’d picked it on his own. It didn’t matter.

His voice wrapped around the song, and I could tell he’d sung it a hundred times. I sat back and watched him. He’d started out looking at the guitar, but soon he looked up to find my eyes. The lyrics were perfect for both of us.

We were both broken, trying to become unbroken. Maybe we just needed a little help. Not to fix each other, but to help us fix ourselves.

The chatter in the restaurant ceased as Hunter sang about lights guiding you home. The woman who had been eavesdropping wiped at her eyes with her napkin.

“I will try, to fix you.” He ended the song and the room was silent for half a second. Then there was a smattering of applause that built until Hunter was required to get up and take a bow.

“I’m sorry, Missy. Thank you for listening,” he said into the mic before coming back to our table. He sat down slowly, as if waiting for me to yell at him.

“Well?” he said after I didn’t respond.

“I don’t really know what to say.”

“You’ve never been at a loss for words in your life. Let me have it. You hated it.”

“No, I didn’t.”

I could feel everyone else listening to us.

“Oh, honey, forgive him! My husband would never do something that romantic,” the eavesdropper said. Her husband looked sheepish. I waited for someone else to give their opinion, but no one else came forward.

“I’m not one for public displays, but I think I can make an exception for that. How did you know I loved that song?” I said.

“I didn’t. Lucky guess.”

“The luckiest.” I got up from my seat and went to his, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you. It was perfect.”

“It wasn’t, but it means the world that you think so. I meant it. I know we’re both screwed up, but even screwed up people should be able to be happy.”

“I think so, too.” I gave him another kiss, lingering for a moment so I could breathe him in. He snaked his arms around my waist, and I put my head on his for a second. There it was, our bubble, sealing around us again.

Eavesdropper sighed happily behind me.

“Shall we go?” he said, putting his guitar back in the case.

“Sure.” He took out his card and put it in the book. The waiter came to collect it, looking slightly stunned.

“That was awesome. Really, you’re talented. You’re welcome back anytime.” Hunter tried to hand him the book, but the waiter refused. “Your meal has been taken care of. You have a good night.” Hunter tried again, but the waiter stood firm.

“Can I get your name?” Hunter asked.

“It’s Will.”

“Thank you, Will. You have a good night,” Hunter said, shaking his hand. “You ready, Miss?”

I took my doggie bag in one hand, Hunter’s with the other, and he had his guitar case on the outside. Eavesdropper waved to me on our way out.

“You take care of that pretty girl now.”

“I will.”





Twenty-Two





I held Hunter’s hand on the way back home. It felt like the right thing to do. Like we were on a real date, and we could be a real couple. My mind never strayed far from thinking about my secret. About finally telling him and letting things fall where they may. There it was again. That falling word.

“You look amazing.”

“Thank you. You look pretty good.” Understatement.

“Oh this old thing? Shucks,” he said.

“Dork.”

“Goddess.”

He took my hand and kissed the back of it, taking his eyes off the road for a moment.

“So you’re not still mad at me? I mean, it’s okay if you are.”

“I’m not mad exactly. Well, not anymore. I just… I never thought you had that in you.”

“I did,” he said. “I’ve… I’ve lost control like that before, but not for a long time. I wanted to go after you, but I was so ashamed of what I’d done. I didn’t want you to feel threatened by me at all.”

“I can take care of myself, Hunter.”

“I know.”

“Let’s just not talk about it anymore. Talking about it isn’t going to change it. It happened and that’s that,” I said.

“It’s not, but I can agree to a change in topic. What would you like to discuss?”

“What did you say to the piano player?”

“I just told him that I’d been a jerk and there was a special lady who needed a very special apology.”

“Let me guess, I’m the special lady.”

He shook his head.

“Nope it was the lady at the next table.”

“The eavesdropper? How dare you.”

“Are you kidding? Nothing turns a man on like giant gold earrings and an animal print top. Rawr.”

I laughed as we pulled into the student lot. This time I waited for Hunter to come open my door.

“So do you have anything further planned for this lovely evening?” I asked.

“Well, I know how much you like that wedding movie and it always makes you laugh, so I figured we could watch it with some kettle corn. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.” I could see the whole scene in my head. Me and Hunter in our pjs, with me draped across him on the couch, laughing so much our stomachs hurt.

“You don’t have to tell me tonight. One secret is enough for a day, don’t you think?”

“Yeah.” Part of me wanted to blurt it out, to unburden myself and kill the suspense already. He wanted to know. How could he not? I’d practically pried his secret out of him, like digging a pearl from a clam. But I was glad I knew. I hoped he didn’t regret telling me. I hoped I wouldn’t regret telling him.

There was a note on the front door as we came up the stairs.

You kids have fun. The place is all yours. Please wipe all surfaces you become amorous on with the wipes in the kitchen. Love you, Darah and Renee

“I wonder who wrote that note.”

“Well, I’m guessing Renee wrote it and Darah added the part about the wipes.”

“Sounds about right.” He took the note down and put his key in the lock.

“So,” he said when he’d opened the door and turned the light on. “I guess it’s just us.”

We’d never been alone together all night before. Daytime was a whole other ball of wax.

Hunter was still holding my hand.

“I’ll, um, let you get changed and I’ll start the popcorn,” he said, dropping it like a burning coal.

A little voice inside me screamed in frustration, but I turned and went to the bedroom anyway.

I reached around my back to undo the zipper, but it wouldn’t undo. I’d had no problem getting it up, but down was another story. I nearly wrenched my arms out of my sockets trying to get the damn thing to cooperate with me.

“Son of a bitch!”

There was a knock at the door.

“You okay in there?”

“Yes, fine.” I tried pulling the hem of the dress up and over my head that way, but it was too formfitting. Well, shit.

I tried one last time before I gave up.

“Okay, so can you give me a hand? The stupid zipper is stuck.”

“Oh, really?”

“Shut up and just help me, please?” I opened the door and turned my back to him. “Just get it started —”

I stopped talking when I felt his warm hands on my back. Breathing suddenly became very challenging. His fingers took their sweet time brushing across my skin and tucking my hair out of the way of the traitorous zipper.

He pulled gently, and down it zipped.

“There. I didn’t seem to have any problem.”

“Well that’s so nice for you,” I snapped, trying to turn back around.

He held my shoulders so I couldn’t. Ever so slowly, he pressed his lips on the spot the zipper had revealed. My skin burned with the contact and the rest of me melted into jelly. I wanted to sag against him, but I didn’t.

“Hunter,” I said. Well, it was more like a whisper.

“Sorry. Couldn’t resist. I’m drawn to you. It drives me absolutely insane that I have to be with you all the time and I can’t touch you.”

I willed my foot to move so I could take a step forward, and thus away from him. Finally, my foot complied. I felt the exact same way about him, but I couldn’t move forward. There was a giant secret standing in our way.

“I can’t.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll behave.” I met his eyes, and had to look away. I wanted to tell him not to. To throw everything out of the window and kiss me like he had when we’d nearly broken the recliner.