Page 13 of Keeping It
I let the nickname breeze past in lieu of ambivalence. “Sure, yeah. Why not? This is all your idea,” I reply, handing my empty to Tahoe which he grabs, eyes narrowed, curious about my attitude. Social gatherings aren’t my thing. Ones where I’m the sole focus are of the variety that haunt my nightmares. He has to know me enough to surmise it. Some sleuthing SEAL he’s turning out to be.
Whit returns with a new beer that Britt eyes down with unmasked hatred. He ignores Tahoe in favor of looking at me. With beady eyes, Whit bops his head to the new tune. “Crick’s Beach and now the airport, huh, Caroline? Didn’t take you for that kind.” Neither did I. Wouldn’t have dreamt it up in a million years. Me, entertaining the thought of a relationship with someone who doesn’t know every sordid detail of my entire life. That’s not the way it works around here. Britt and Malena speak quietly to avoid Whit’s accusation. “Maybe that’s what it takes,” Whit adds. That statement is why I dreaded walking into this place.
When I don’t respond, Tahoe does. “Everyone loves fresh blood, man. Lighten up. Not like I’m stealing your girl. She’s all yours. Forever,” he says, his words dripping with sarcasm. The glowing smile Britt has worn since spotting Tahoe vanishes in an instant. It’s probably the opposite of what you’d expect from a newly engaged woman. Whit gets to watch as she seethes in irritation so deep it’s written all over her body. I could kiss him for this—for exposing their false love. Without thinking, I grab his hand and lace my fingers between his. My hand gets lost in his sheer size, and my body shudders at the immediate warmth. It takes several awkward seconds before she realizes Whit is watching her—judging her reaction, scorned in his masculinity in the presence of such a fine example.
Slowly, Tahoe leans over and grabs Whit by the shoulder. Never has he looked larger than life than in this moment. “Congrats again, man. You lucked out,” he says, voice gravelly. Before he leans away he flicks his gaze to a horrified Britt. “I wish you an eternity of happiness.” The wish sounds like a threat. My heart is racing because no one talks to the It’s like that, no one calls them out on the lies so effectively. Tahoe even did it the southern, subtle way.
“Caroline May!” My name is screamed in a high pitched shrill. Bless that girl. Shirley. She bounds to us breaking the circle of awkward. It takes her less than two seconds to assess the atmosphere. “Don’t tell me,” Shirley drawls, “Whitney has his panties in a bunch because this fine ass specimen got into Caroline’s panties before he did?” Shirley runs her hands, spirit fingers and all, up and down in front of Tahoe’s body. I stifle a laugh. Malena, finding a comrade in her appreciation for what isn’t hers nods in agreement. Britt flips her hair over one shoulder while looking annoyed.
Shirley clears her throat when no one addresses her statement. “Oh, yeah. Congrats guys. It was a slow week at the diner.” She shoves a white envelope into Britt’s hand, and then turns to me. “You’re drinking right? Let’s go grab a drink. Gaston will let you out of his grip, yeah?” Tahoe squeezes my hand and the nervous energy in my body morphs into a warmness stemming from where his skin touches mine.
Not once in my life have I been more appreciative of my best friend’s insane, straight forward personality. “Beer. I’m drinking beer. Let’s go to the bar.” She snakes an arm around my waist and the rest of the group moves on, leaving Tahoe alone. “Thank God you showed when you did.”
She skips once, pleased with herself for her social torment. “They’re a mess. Notice neither denied it. Whit has wanted you since the moment you were born.”
“That’s disgusting, Shirley.”
Shrugging she says, “He’s a gross dude. I don’t know what to tell you.”
I lean into her ear. “He asked me to be his girlfriend. Says he’s ready for something more. I don’t know what to think. I told him he could rent air space and equipment, so I gave him what he wanted and he’s still here.” I swallow down the fear of the unknown. Somehow, I know if I agree to take on Tyler Holiday in a relationship capacity, everything will change and probably not for the good.
Shirley catcalls. “I fucking knew it. This is your reward for being a social recluse all of your life. You get to have that.” She eyes Tahoe over my shoulder. “He’s checking out your ass right now.”
Whit grumbles under his breath as he takes another drink off the wet bar top and retreats to his friends. Shirley orders our drinks, flirting with the bartender because that’s her protocol, and passes me another foamy beer without turning around. Some of the amber liquid splashes on my neck and chest before I can sip and I wipe at it with my bare hand, managing to make more skin stink like dirty brew. It’s crowded now that the sun has disappeared and folks are out of work for the weekend. I tap Shirley to thank her and make my way back to Tahoe.
A few people stop me to chat, but I can’t help but seek him out in the crowd as I make small talk. Most are curious about the airport and have heard the news I was taking it over. He watches me, like he’s studying me. I wonder if he regrets what he said earlier, if he’s deciding I’m not worth the trouble and whether he should stick to his status quo. Malena would give him what he wants, so would a number of other girls. He knows I’m more…complicated, though. I’m giving myself a pep-talk when Shirley comes up next to me and links arms. She’s not done telling me what I should think yet. I never get away that easily.
“Have you told him?” she asks. It could mean a thousand things, but without saying a word, I know which question she’s asking because of how he’s watching me—undressing me.
Tahoe drains his beer without taking his eyes off me. Bringing the glass down, he licks his lips. I shudder as heat overtakes my whole body. “I’m blushing right now aren’t I?” I pant out. “Of course I haven’t told him. It’s not like that.” I amend, “It hasn’t been like that.”
“Don’t. I wouldn’t. You should lie,” she says, patting me on my ass as she scuttles away to tackle Caleb in a hug. It’s probably sound advice, with the only problem being I cannot lie. Not for all the tea in China. My poker face looks like a scared cat after being dipped in water. Something tells me a man like Tahoe, a SEAL, will call me out on any lie I try to concoct. One watching me as closely as this one right now? Game over. It will only be a matter of time before he knows the truth about me. He’ll have all of my dirty secrets in the palm of his hand, just like every other person in this bar. The beers have mellowed my mood, but my stomach is flipping wildly with the unmade decision looming in front of me. He’s a breathing masterpiece of masculinity and an untouchable quality that leaves me lightheaded.
When I’m close enough to touch, he runs his knuckles down the side of my face—a feather light touch that seems impossible given the size of his hand. “Head back to your place and hang that fixture?” Tahoe says, leaning forward so he can be heard over the new, louder music blasting around us. “If you want.” It feels like a loaded statement. Does agreeing to this, mean I’m agreeing to everything? I take another sip of my beer the second he brings his hand away from my face. Breathing is hard. Focusing is hard. Everything onhisbody ishard. Sure I’ve had crushes on men before, but the crackling between my body and Tahoe’s feels like being squeezed to death without care of the outcome.
When I don’t respond, he goes on, “What are you thinking about right now?”
Shaking my head, I remember myself, and decide honesty is best. “How my friends want you. Even the ones that aren’t supposed to want you,” I say, taking another sip of beer. “How I want you and I know I’m not supposed to.”
Tahoe smirks. “Go on,” he prods. “You’re not done yet.”
Shaking my head once again, I guzzle the rest, and slide the mug onto a high top next to us. “I’m thinking it’s a bad idea, wait, scratch that, a horrible idea for me to get entangled with you. You’re going to be working at my airport. What happens when it doesn’t work out? I have to look at you,” I say, waving my hand down his body. “I’ve seen the muscles under those clothes. You’re enormous.” His grin widens—eyes dancing across my face in complete amusement. “I’m also thinking I have no idea how to be a girlfriend. Your girlfriend. I’m kind of hoping you were joking about that back in the truck. Are you asking to hang the lighting fixture, or are you asking tohang my lighting fixture? I need you to be upfront with me because I’m bad at this.” Covering my face with both hands, I let the mortification seep in, then peek around briefly to see who is around. “I can’t shut up. This is horrible.”
“No one heard your tirade,” Tahoe assures, narrowing his eyes. “Though, take heart. No one knows how to be my girlfriend, Caroline. I’ll let you define how to do that,” he says, one dimple rippling next to his smile. “If you’re interested in the gig.”
Looking off to the side to avoid the power of his gaze, I blow out a breath. “And the lighting fixture?” I ask, furrowing my brow.
Tahoe laughs. “Needs to be hung?” he asks.
It does. My God does it ever. “You realize how intimidating it is being in your proximity, right?” I ask. Shaking my head, I say, “I’m glad you used it earlier with Whit, but turn it down a little right now, okay?” I think about the first time I saw him. How I pegged him for a man I wouldn’t approach if my Mama’s life was on the line.
Tahoe rests his hands on my shoulders. “You’ll get used to it,” he says, lips wet and shining. I swallow hard. His hands slide from my shoulders, down my arms.
Shirley clears her throat next to me. “Don’t mind me. I’m just living vicariously through you,” she says, “He’s touching you.”
Tahoe drops his hands and pulls me to his side. “I’d like to touch more of her, but we’re sitting here talking about hanging light fixtures,” he says to my friend, squeezing me a little bit harder for a second or two.
“Shirley don’t be so insane, please. I thought you were hanging out with Caleb tonight,” I edge, trying to change the subject.
