Page 6 of Finding Alfred
“If I keep eating that, I’m going to get fat.”
“I don’t care. Fat is better than unhappy.”
“Shut your smart mouth.” He glared at me, but at least he was speaking more than telling me he was leaving or that no, he didn’t want to hang out with me. He was so cute with his long-ish hair pulled up into a messy bun, and those hazel eyes catching the morning sun that made the green in them pop out spectacularly.
I needed to take advantage of him not immediately running away. “Want some help today? With the house hunting? I might know a few places.”
He glanced at me. He’d been heading in the direction of the bookstore but stopped and looked around as if he’d never seen this place before. He made a noise and took another sip of coffee.
“Do you not like it here, really?” I asked him.
“No, it’s not that. It’s nice. I’m just not used to it. I lived in the heart of Sacramento. For like years.”
“Well, this ain’t that for sure. It’s not Seattle either. We don’t have a Pike Street or dudes throwing fish, but we do have a few places to get a good coffee, a treat, or hang out. We have a diner…” I pointed in the direction of Bluestar. “They’re actually fantastic. And the wilderness. If you like hiking, but if you don’t—”
“Shut up. Damn, Jackie. That’s entirely too many words and not enough coffee.” He took another step, walking toward the bookstore again. “Gonna need another one…”
We went in and Alfred got a refill from Brock. I passed on coffee and another bun, nibbling on the one I’d already picked up for him.
“You sounded like an ad for your blog, you know.” Alfred turned to face me. “Earlier.” He nodded toward the front of the store.
“Oh?”
“Mmm…I like your blog. Between your spiel and your writing, I’d say you love being here.”
“I do. It’s home.”
“Uh-huh. And you want us to be together. Here.”
Staring at his lips, his words had barely registered. He was actually having a conversation with me. About being together. And I needed to say something. But what? I nodded like an idiot.
“So what if we get together?” He took a sip of coffee, peering over the top at me. “And then I got a job in Seattle? Would you follow me?”
What? Seattle? My nightmare—him getting a job there. And would I leave my home and follow him there? We weren’t even together. Yet. “I, uh…”
“Thought so. Bye, Jackie.” He started toward the door.
“Hey, wait. You didn’t let me answer. You drop a hypothetical bomb and then walk away? What the fuck man?” I followed him. Out the door, onto the street. “Damn, Al. Stop. I don’t know what I would do. I might. I like you a lot, but we aren’t together yet, so how do I know?”
“Because what if it didn’t work out, right? What if you like me enough to fuck me, but not enough for more, unless I fit into your ideal world here. Because, newsflash—this isn’t my home. And I would still have to live here in this…” He looked around as if searching for the words. “Small town.”
Reuben glared at us from across the street. People used to think the bear got into my mom’s henhouse, and he was my real father because he had red hair too. Fuck them gossip whores. He wasn’t related at all. Unless it was a long, long time ago. A lot of families had been here forever, but my mother was a natural redhead when she was young. Then it went gray early, and people forgot. Imagine that. I had photos of her pregnant with me—feisty, playful, and happy. But that was old news…
I caught up with Alfred. “You’re making up all kinds of shit that hasn’t happened.”
“I’m being realistic.”
“You don’t know how things will go until you try. I like you. A lot. And for more than sex, and I’d like to find out, you know? We should talk, hang out, do friendly things.”
He stopped and turned to me. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about. We rubbed it out. Once. That’s it. The day had been emotionally hyped. Get over it.”
I let him go when he walked off this time. He really did not like me. But why? He hadn’t actually taken the time to get toknow me or anything—hadn’t tried at all. Didn’t he feel the same energy between us? How could he ignore that?
He pushed away every time I pulled, and I clearly saw he didn’t want to pull with me. I'd better start taking Brock’s advice and leave Alfred alone.
Chapter six
Another week later…
