Page 25 of Love's a Glitch
Don’t forget, he’s only here temporarily. My dating efforts need to go toward a permanent thing with a guy who plans on sticking around in every sense of the word.
Since continued silence made me ramble, even if it might only be due to him finishing his bite of food, I added, “I’d say I should always get to know people through texts and phone calls before I meet up with them, but I’ve also tried that before, and it’s never ended up like this.”
“Because too many people are fake. That’s another thing I like about traveling the world, especially to areas people consider poor. They might not have all the luxuries we require as necessities in America, but they’re rich in genuine friendship and community, and they value everything they do have. Of course, I could talk about the flip side as well, but then I tend to feel overwhelmed by how much needs done so that everyone in the world has access to clean water, food, and medication.”
“I admire how much you care,” I said, and it was the first time I’d seen humility in his features. No surprise, it was as sexy as the cockiness.
“I do what I can, but I definitely get more out of my trips than I give. I learn new skills and get paid to go to beautiful places. I’m hardly a saint, so don’t go looking at me that way, assuming I’m a better person than I am.”
My inner thoughts about how dreamy he was were likely written across my face, but his reaction seemed to be more of a sense that he wasn’t doing enough. I sipped at my soda, washing my food down before replying. “I think we tend to judge ourselves too harshly and forget to pat ourselves on the back for the good we do. It’s like drops in a bucket. A few don’t look like much in a huge bucket, but each drop helps. We share and learn what we know, and more people contribute their drops, and eventually, that bucket will overflow.”
One corner of his mouth quirked up. “That’s a beautiful way of putting it. I have a feeling you always see the good in people.”
An unattractive snort came out. “I wish. I have a short fuse and can go from sweet to stabby in two seconds flat. Even at work, there’s this client….” If I went there, I’d undo my beautiful analogy. “I am, however, working on it. One day at a time.”
With that in mind, I should really give good ol’ Chuck a break. Obviously, he was an old man, set in his ways, and whenever he sent mean replies, I should just picture a grandfather-type at the computer, shaking a fist at the monitor and pecking out a message one key at a time as he struggled with technology.
“I do wonder if it was easier to talk to you that first night, no judgments or preconceived notions, because I never expected it to continue past a message or two.” I swiped my fries through my ketchup and tossed them in my mouth. “It made it easier to just throw things out with reckless abandon, which in turn, made me seem way cooler and more adventurous than I am.”
Luke huffed a laugh. “Yeah, forget climbing and skydiving. Talking is the most terrifying feat by far.”
“If that’s true, I’m a certified badass, because I can talk and talk and talk. About anything and everything—there’s no awkward silence I won’t fill with awkward talking.”
Luke kept opening his mouth, so I’d act like I was going to say more, and after a handful of seconds, we both snickered. “You’re wrong, though. I was hooked from the first sentence you sent to Dildo.”
Since I’d chosen that moment to take a drink, my swallow of Coke burned my nose, and I had to work to force the fizzy liquid down and not out my nose. “Dildo?”
Luke picked up his own soda, the straw between two of his long fingers, and man, how did he manage to make even fingers sexy? “Dillon. Dildo. All sounds the same to me.”
“O-M-G, Dillon would be so offended. I love it.” I grinned and the tummy flutters were back, stretching their wings and floating higher and higher, toward the center of my chest.
“Speaking of the wild undertaking you started that night, who’s on deck next for time traveling through your exes?”
Hadwe been speaking of that? I’d been completely in the moment, savoring my time with the guy seated across from me. But that’d lead to fantasies that wouldn’t come true, and I needed to be grounded in reality before I floated off into the clouds. “It’s more of a rediscovering of my exes, and for the record, I consider it a second shot more for me than for them. Although, technically, several of them never quite made it to the ‘ex’ category. They were more almosts. People of interest, if you will.”
“I will, but I’m sure the cops would advise against using that term. Aren’t persons of interest suspects for crimes?”
I pursed my lips. “The crime would rest mostly on me. That’s right. You’re hanging out with a judgmental, hypocritical felon, wanted for her crimes against love. I ask why none of my relationships turn into morewhilesabotaging them.”
“You know how you said that thing about being too harsh on ourselves? Well, point that right back at yourself. Analyzing if someone’s right for you is what dating’s all about.”
“That’s what I used to tell myself, too. Recently, I’ve realized it’s not so much about weeding out people and immediately tossing them aside, but finding the one who wants to grow along with you. I look at happy couples and long for love like that. It’s sort of like being a seedling and getting jealous of the tall flowers in bloom that have been soaking in the water and sun for a long time.”
At the parting of Luke’s lips, I waited for more, but then he shook his head and took another bite of his burger.
“What?” I asked. “Don’t hold back. I need all the help I can get.”
Luke wiped his fingers on a napkin. “If we’re going to stick with the plant analogy, I’ve watched my mom weed her herb garden and flower beds. Afterward, her gardener comes along and gets the weeds she habitually misses, because she considers gardening her hobby until a weed takes too much effort to pull. Then she calls in backup.”
A gardener? Who was this dude that his mom had a gardener? The other night, he’d also mentioned his private school sponsored trip to freaking Madagascar.Great. Now I’m being judgmental again, simply because I can’t imagine ever having the means to pay for a house here in California, much less a person to tend my garden.
“If the gardener doesn’t get rid of the weeds, they’ll choke out the good plants.”
I drummed my fingernails on the tabletop, following his twist on my example all the way through. “So, the real question is, how can you be sure whether you’re out with a plant or a weed? It circles me right back to spending more time with the vegetation in question—like how I rhymed there?”
“If that’s true, then why are you so hesitant to answer my original question?”
My defenses pricked up, my instinct to immediately deny, deny, deny. For one, I couldn’t admit to the biggest reason—a tiny flame deep inside of me continued to burn with the idea of me and him. It was more than that, though. “I guess it’s because as much as I want this re-dating thing to work so I don’t have to start from scratch again, I worry I’ll inevitably ruin it with my pickiness and judgmental assumptions.” Before I’d said it aloud, I hadn’t even realized the concern had been there.
