A Life More Complete(52)



He opens the car door for me and does the same when we arrive at the restaurant. He places his hand on the small of my back guiding me through the door. He clasps my hand in his while I scan the room for Melinda. I spot her at the bar laughing and talking to the bartender. She’s doing her best to impress him and it seems to be working. We come up behind her and she startles slightly when I put my hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, Mel. Hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“Nope. Just catching up with an old friend.” She motions to the bartender. “This is Noah Crawley. We went to high school together. Small world, huh?” she says looking at him the way she looks when she wants something, or in this case someone. She introduces the two of us to Noah.

I smile at her and say, “Watch out for those high school boys, they’re trouble,” I wink at Tyler and he squeezes my hand slightly.

Melinda says good-bye to Noah and we make our way to the table following the hostess. After we sit, I reintroduce the two of them, this time with less hostility. Tyler is courteous. He runs his hand up and down my thigh and lets Melinda and I talk. Smiling and interjecting when he has something relevant to add, it’s the perfect evening. He tells Melinda how we met even though she has already heard the story. His version is better than mine. It’s during this time that I finally realize he must truly love me. Tyler excuses himself to the bathroom and Melinda nearly jumps across the table.

“Oh my God! He’s perfect!” she says grabbing my wrist. “I always wondered what your random tattoo meant. I never had the balls to ask, because it was bizarre, but it’s like a freaking love story permanently attached to you. You guys were such romantic little kids. It’s awesome.”

“Yeah, I guess it is. It’s all so hard to process. He’s totally different than he used to be. He’s making it really easy to fall in love with him all over again.”

“Shit, I’m in love with him,” she squeals and I laugh. “This time it’s right. I told you it would happen.”

“So, what about that bartender? Adorable, huh?” I quickly change the subject.

“Yeah he is, but um, he’s a bartender. Could you imagine my dad’s reaction? But he seems like he might be a good candidate for one night with me.” Melinda is a notorious one-night stand girl. She is perfectly content bedding random men and sneaking out of their houses before they can even realize she’s gone. Most would label her a slut, but not me. She’s a free spirit, someone who likes a good time and would never begrudge herself a little fun at the expense of a horny guy. Everyone needs to be more like Melinda. She loves sex and finds it where she can get it. No guilt, no strings, no love, just pleasure and back to normal life after it’s over. She once confessed to me while we were drunk that she wished she could find someone, that she was lonely, but in the morning light she was back to being carefree and bedding a guy she picked up while we were hiking Runyon Canyon.

“Do what you gotta do,” I tell her. “He seems nice enough.” Tyler returns to the table just as we finish up our conversation about how thankful Melinda is that she got a Brazilian two days ago.

“It’s usually out of commission for at least a day,” she says.

“What’s out of commission?” Tyler asks.

“You don’t wanna know,” I tell him and he looks at me with a little too much interest.

We finish our dinner and I’m on my fourth margarita. I have that slightly lightheaded feeling going on as I kiss Melinda good-bye. I whisper in her ear that she should consider more than just a one-night stand with the bartender. I giggle and she shakes her head at me, but I can tell by the look in her eyes that she’s contemplating it. Tyler, being his polite self, leans in and kisses her on the cheek, too. He asks if we can give her a ride back to her house. She declines and he wishes her well and escorts me to the car. My arm linked in his; gripping it a little more tightly due to my drunkenness that seems to be taking control of my body. I’m giggly and smiling far too much. I can’t stop telling him I love him as my hands grope his body unnecessarily. I sound ridiculous, yet I have no control.

The words flow from me like water from a tap. “Move in with me,” I say slightly slurred. “Not in that big beautiful house. Just stay with me. Love me.”

He pauses and looks at me with wide eyes. He pulls into my driveway before he answers. “I think we should talk about this when you are not so well acquainted with tequila.”

Nikki Young's Books