Bait (Wake, #1)(65)

“I don't.” I kind of did. I shouldn't have lied, little and white as it was, but I wanted her to talk to me. The sex part was crazy hot, and her body made my rational thinking quite the opposite, but there was just something about her. Her wit. Her charm. Her.

And to actually tell the f*cking truth he was a fool. What kind of man, who had a girl like my Blake, wouldn’t feel the need to light her up, to get her eyes shining like I'd seen? If he wasn't doing that, and clearly he wasn't, otherwise what was she getting from me? You know? Like why the hell didn't he spend every moment playing and kissing and f*cking showing this girl a good time?

Was mediocre really all what she wanted? We had more than that, didn’t we?

I knew what she wanted. She wanted a thrill.

I was her thrill. I wasn't her boyfriend, and I wasn't her fiancé. I was a spark. Something that excited her; something that made her bones hum with life. And if that was the kind of thing she wanted—because I sure as hell did—then I'd give it to her.

I'd show her. She'd see it, eventually.

I didn't know about marriage or houses or even how a real relationship worked.

But I was positive that I wanted her the same f*cking way people wanted summer in February and how dogs want their bellies rubbed. Naturally. Lighting her up came naturally to me.

We spoke for a little longer, after pausing for the dust to settle, and it was almost like nothing had happened. We argued and laughed. She told me that she didn't like the old Star Wars as much as the new Star Wars and so I hung up on her.

She called right back just to hang up on me.

I called her back and we talked for another two hours. I told her about the time I flipped a golf cart my junior year in high school, after I drank too much, and broke my collarbone.

She told me about how her best friend from high school, Kari, had a ferret who bit her every time she tried to enter her friend's bedroom. It got so bad that she wouldn't go over there anymore.

So her friend had to come over to her house to hang out. It didn't sound so interesting until she got to the part where her friend and her oldest brother started dating and eventually got married. She'd began the story with, “Want to hear the story about how a ferret got my brother married?”

Who could say no to that?

Before I got off of the phone with her that night, I said, “I want to do this, if you want to do this.”

She yawned and said, “I want to do this.”

Then we hung up for real.

Tuesday, November 4th, 2008

Me: I'm coming to Seattle to see Audrey. She's homesick and I set up a few meetings?

Honeybee: When?

Me: Next weekend through the beginning of the week.

Honeybee: I'll be in town.

Me: I'll be in you.

Delete.

Me: Maybe we can meet up?

Honeybee: Sure.

Audrey was homesick, for her sister, not for me.

Sure, she loved me, but Audrey and our younger sister Morgan were almost inseparable. Since Audrey left for school, Morgan had begged me to take her for the weekend to see her and I had a few new customers in the city I could visit, so it worked out.

It had also been a while since I’d seen Blake and I wanted to.

Like really wanted to.

We'd re-implemented the she'll text me first in the evenings policy.

I hated it. I hated thinking about it and sometimes when I was in a particularly dicky mood about it I'd text her back that I was busy and that I'd text her later.

I always felt like I'd shown her.

Then I'd realized that what I really wanted was to talk to her and that I was the one postponing it. Then I'd give in, twenty minutes later, and text her back.

I couldn't help it.

Monday, November 10th, 2008

Honeybee: What is a four-letter word for idle or proud? How was your day?

Me: Good. Signed contracts with two wineries today. Wine drinkers like beer, I guess.

Honeybee: It's for their husbands. If there is beer then the guy will go. You're saving marriages, Lou. Bravo.

I guessed that would be good for my karma, since I was doing my damnedest to prevent one.

Me: Makes sense. How was your day?

Honeybee: I made the best tartar sauce on the planet. So, not bad.

Me: Vain.

Honeybee: Okay, maybe not the best tartar sauce, but it was good. Everyone liked it.

Me: No. Your word. It's VAIN.

Honeybee: Oh. Good. I was like 'my sauce rocks, f*cker.'

Me: LOL. Your sauce rocks.

Friday, November 14th, 2008

Me: Picking up Morgan and catching a plane. Text me later?

Honeybee: Safe travels.

Morgan was so excited. It was crazy how different my two younger sisters were and how much they loved each other. Morgan, Ms. Optimism Fix The World, and Audrey, Ms. I Can Paint A New, Prettier World, couldn't have been less alike. Where Morgan followed the rules, Audrey followed her heart. A scholar and an artist, and two best friends.

Sure, they each had their own best friends, but for the most part they were so close. They rarely fought, which we all thought was strange. Cory and I fought like the north and south in high school at times.

On the flight, Morgan told me about how many of her classes were weighted how she'd actually graduate in December, but that she'd still walk with her class in March.