Page 78 of Enough
“I’m here more than you’d think. Would you like a drink?” He pauses. “Dinner... shoot. I never did feed you.”
I swallow and shrug. “That’s my fault. You tried.”
“Will you sit with me?” he asks as he waves toward the sofa. I nod my head and continue to walk barefoot. He places my heels by the door.
I sit on one side and he sits on the other. There’s a good two feet between us, and he attempts to scoot forward slightly to close the gap without invading my space. “About dinner…” he begins.
“I’m sorry I flipped out on you, it’s just—”
“Everly, please… let me say what I need to say.”
I nod my head and try to make myself stop shaking. I’m not sure why I’m trembling. I feel oddly comfortable sitting with him, and it makes no sense.
“I made a mistake tonight, and I’m sorry.”
My mind rushes to the kiss in the car, and I’m worried he regrets it. I cast my eyes downward and he moves closer to meto lift my chin with his finger.
“I wanted tonight to be special. I wanted a chance to give you the things I couldn’t give you when we were in school. I wanted to show you that I’ve changed. I never meant to come off as pompous or arrogant.”
“You didn’t.” I don’t lie well.
He frowns. “We both know I did. The truth is my life is just okay. Yeah, I travel a lot, but it’s a lonely existence.”
I consider his words for a moment. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
He nods. “Of course.”
“Why aren’t you married with a few gorgeous children by now? You’re obviously a successful man, and God knows you’re easy on the eyes. Why?”
He smirks then furrows his brows. He leans back on the couch and crosses his legs. I feel like he’s about to go into business mode. “I guess I just never found the right girl.”
“Phooey!” I yell. I sound like my Grandma Kay and I laugh at myself. “I don’t believe that for a second.”
“I’ve dated. It’s not like I’ve been single my whole life, but it never amounted to more.”
“Why?”
His eyes move to regard me, and I can see he’s teetering on something. “Are you hungry?” he asks. “I could order a pizza.”
As much as I want him to answer my question, the offer of food makes my stomach rumble. He notices.
“That settles it. Let me think.” He stands and presses his finger to his lips. “Mushroom and sausage?”
“How do you remember that?” I question, amazed at his memory.
“I remember the important things.” He heads toward the kitchen and opens a drawer stuffed with various menus. I follow him.
“How I like my pizza is important?”
“It’s just something I remember because I never forgot you.”
I feel myself blush. I hear the rustle of papers and laugh. “Do you eat out often by any chance?”
He pauses and lifts his eyebrows upwards. He opens his fridge, and it’s empty but for a few beer bottles, a couple of bottles of water, a carton of eggs, and some Styrofoam containers.
I press my hand to my cheek and laugh. “Oh, Nick.”
He smiles brightly and returns to finding the right menu. “Ah, here it is. They deliver late. I’m a regular.” After he calls in the order, I lean on his bar as I sit on a stool. He leans his back against the cabinet and we stare at each other.
