Page 17 of Secret Admirer

Pull her into my arms?

No, she won’t want me to touch her. I could offer to call Trixie. Maybe she’s regretting asking me here.

“If you want, I can leave. I…” I don’t know how I’d get back to the shelter besides walking for hours in the dark…or if I’d even get there if a coyote got me.

“No,” Coco cries out and twirls in my direction. “No, please. I’m sorry. I’m being a poor hostess.” In the bright light of her kitchen, I see bruises starting to form on her neck in the shape of a handprint and around her right eye. I grit my teeth as I fight my instinct to reach out and touch her. Comfort her. Maybe she’s right, and she needs me here more than I need to be looked after. I have a pounding headache and feel a little nauseated but I’m sure that’s more from the pain than a possible concussion.

Maybe Coco’s scared to be alone tonight. I need to stop being an insecure bastard and be here for her. “I’ll stay if you let me help you unpack.” I quip trying to ease the tension.

Her blue eyes widen in what looks to be a happy surprise. When she smiles at me, my world fades away. For a moment, I forget how different we are from each other, about seeing some asshole attacking Coco, and the circumstances that brought me to where I am now.

When she blinks and steps away, the dream is over and I’m back to being uncomfortable. “Let me show you to the bathroom where you can shower if you want.”

* * *

I almost feel like a new man after my shower. The hot water felt exquisite falling from her rain showerhead. I pull on the robe Coco left out for me and head downstairs to try to find her in the enormity of her house. On the landing, I spy her directly in front of me sitting on a big leather sectional with a blanket wrapped around her and the fireplace going. My bare feet pad on the cool floor, making no sound as I walk toward her. The closer I get, the more I see. The pain on her face she’s been trying to hide as she tries to remain strong all while lost in thought as she stares out into the open night.

I’m unsure if I should give Coco her space or if I should let my presence be known. My choice is made up for me when she straightens and turns toward me. “Hey,” she says brightly, “um…I didn’t know what you’d want to drink with dinner. I’d offer beer or wine, but I didn’t think that would be good if you have a concussion, so I got us both waters. I hope that’s okay. I do have orange juice and…” She looks toward the kitchen; her cute nose scrunches up in concentration, “I think that’s it. I really am a bad host, but I’m not used to having people over.” She shrugs and then motions me to sit down. “Please sit and dig in. What we don’t eat tonight we can have tomorrow.”

Coco has to have ordered almost everything off the menu. The table in front of her is covered in Chinese food containers. There’s no possible way we can eat all of it tonight or tomorrow unless she eats more than anyone I’ve ever met and has an insane metabolism.

“Oh shit. I’m sorry, Bodhi,” she shakes her head, her big eyes sad. “I didn’t mean to sound insensitive about the food, but I wanted to make sure we had enough, and that I got something you’d like. Imayhave gone overboard, but I promise it won’t go to waste.” Pulling the blanket around her even tighter, she scoots to the end of the couch. “I don’t want anything else heavy tonight, but I’d like to know more about you and how you became…” Her cheeks turn pink, making her look more beautiful, even with bruises marring her perfect face. Coco starts to open the boxes and sets forks inside each container.

I finish for her. I’m sure she doesn’t know how to broach the subject. Neither do I, really. “Homeless. You can say it. I know what I am.”

A loser and a creep who you’ve let inside your house.

Shame sweeps through me at the thought of her buying all this food in the hope she would find something I’d like to fill me up because she assumes I’m starving and don’t know where my next meal will come from. I’m here out of pity and my stomach sinks at the knowledge.

Placing her hand on my arm, Coco’s eyes plead with me. For what, I don’t know, but I want to give it to her. “Bodhi, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

I want to tell her she didn’t to get her smiling back at me, but it would be a lie and we both know it. Instead, I go with the truth before looking away. “I know you didn’t.”

I hate how shy I am with Coco. I know that if we had met under different circumstances and I didn’t resemble a yeti with my long hair and beard, if I didn’t feel this inexplicable pull toward her, we could be out to dinner on a date, chatting it up.

“So, where are you from? Where did you grow up?” Coco starts piling different Chinese foods on her plate. Most of them I’ve never seen before and not sure what I like so I stick to what I do know and put some Broccoli Beef and Sweet and Sour Chicken on my plate.

“I’m from a small town in Nebraska with a population of less than a thousand. Where are you from originally?” I pop a piece of beef in my mouth and it takes everything in me not to moan. It has to be the best tasting thing I’ve eaten in years.

She twirls her chopsticks. “Born and raised in Oasis. What’s it like to grow up in such a small town?”

I finish chewing and take a sip of water. “Honestly, I couldn’t wait to get out of there. Right after graduation, I was on a bus to New York City to pursue a career in art.”

Her big blue eyes widen as her lips tip up. “What happened?”

“Life happened. New York happened.” I stab a piece of chicken with my fork. “I was young and dumb.” I chuckle bitterly.

“How old are you? I’d say you look young, but I can’t see much under all that hair of yours.” Coco leans forward as if my answer means something to her.

“I’m twenty-four. How old are you?”

Ducking her head, she glances up at me sheepishly making me all the more curious. “Twenty-one,” she finally answers in little more than a whisper.

She’s certainly living large for being so young. Not that I thought she was older, but her car and house are a lot for someone her age.

And yet she works in a hair salon.

She’s an enigma.

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