Be Good A New Adult Romance (RE12)(3)

“If that’s the case, then I’m not much more than a sarcastic bitch.”

“I wish you could see what I see.”

I let out one laugh. “Maybe you need to have your eyes checked.”

“Maybe we’d better eat some of this food before it gets cold.” Brett grabbed a piece of toast and bit into it. “It’s already buttered.” He put the piece up to my lips. “Take a bite.”

I reluctantly did as I was told. He was right. The toast was good. I was surprised that I actually had an appetite. And even more surprised that Brett had so easily talked me into taking a bite of his food without me giving a sarcastic remark like, “What am I five years old?”

“Would you like me to feed you your eggs, too?” Brett had a huge grin on his face. I guessed he had a little sarcasm in him, too.

“No, I think I can handle it.” I picked up my fork and jabbed at the scrambled eggs in front of me and put them in my mouth. “Mmm, these are good, too.”

Brett poked at his eggs and took a bite. He nodded in agreement.

After he swallowed, he asked, “So, why me?”

“What do you mean?”

“You could have had your pick of eligible bachelors at the wedding last night, why did you hit on me?”

I shrugged. How could I tell him I didn’t remember? I poked at my eggs. They suddenly didn’t seem as appetizing.

“Anna,” Brett said. I glanced up him. He continued. “I just want you to know that I normally don’t do this.”

“Do what?” I asked obviously clueless.

“This,” he emphasized as if it made all the sense in the world.

I tried to think of all the possible things he could mean by this. Eat in bed? Eat eggs and toast in bed? Get room service?

He sighed, clearly exasperated. “A one-night stand.” He actually whispered it as if there was someone else in the room who could hear him.

“Never?” I managed to choke out. I hoped he didn’t think I was being rude; I was just surprised. We had gone to college together. Most of the people we were friends with hooked up at least a few times. And there were people like me who hooked up way more than a few times (Flaw 17: Anna’s a slut.)

He shook his head.

“So you’ve had an actual relationship with all the girls you’ve been with?”

I could see he was thinking carefully about his next response. “Girl,” he admitted finally.

“What,” I blurted.

His face turned serious. “I said girl. Singular.”

I could feel myself blinking and I couldn’t stop. I was trying very hard to process what I thought I just heard. “Girl, as in one?”

“That is the definition of singular, yes. I guess you weren’t an English major.”

I was struck speechless, which may have never happened before. I always had at least one snappy comeback for everything.

“I dated Becca for three years in college,” he explained. “She was number one.”

“There was no one before Becca? No one in high school?” I knew I sounded like I was cross-examining him but I couldn’t help myself. Being 23-years old, a year out of college and only having been with one other person besides me was not something I could easily comprehend. Not when there were a few too many weekends when I’d been with more than one person.

He nodded.

“And no one since we graduated? We’ve been out of college a whole year.” Going a year without sex was also something I couldn’t comprehend but it made sense now why I had seen multiple condoms in the bathroom garbage pail and he said he had been inside of me half the night. The man had obviously been sexually starved.

“Becca and I tried to keep a long distance thing going after we graduated but it didn’t work out. Plus, I work a lot. I’ve been trying to build my career. I haven’t had time to date anyone since Becca.”

“So, that makes me number two?” I couldn’t believe the words were coming out of my mouth. “But why?”

“Why what?” His eyes narrowed.

“Why would you sleep with me when you’ve only been with one other person?”

Now he was the one poking at his eggs. “The first time I saw you was our freshman year, at the big Greek Row Homecoming Bash. You were wearing a bright pink short sleeved sweater and a black mini skirt.”

How the hell did he remember that? I can’t even remember what I wore last week and he can remember what I was wearing our freshman year of college?

He continued but he still wasn’t looking at me. He was still poking at his eggs. “I thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen in my life. I watched the way you were so confident and sure of yourself with everyone, even the most popular guys.”

If only he knew how insecure and unsure of myself I actually was and still am (Flaw 26). I guess I hide it pretty well.

When he finally looked up at me, his eyes were watery. “Every guy at that party had his eyes on you, including me, but I knew I’d never in a million years have a chance with you. I saw you around campus after that and at parties, every once and a while. Every time I saw you, you took my breath away. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you but you never noticed me. Not that I expected you to. I always knew you were way out of my league. Then last night, you actually looked at me. You talked to me. You flirted with me. I couldn’t believe you wanted to be with me. I knew it was the only chance I’d probably ever have to be with you, even if it was just for one night, so I took it.”

My withered heart swelled a little bit more.

I couldn’t believe he had thought so much of me and that he had thought so much of us being together. And I didn’t even remember it. I had been with more guys than I could even count and I was his number two. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach and I had an overwhelming urge to escape. I didn’t want him to find out that I didn’t remember talking to him, or flirting with him or even being with him. How shitty would that be after his big confession of longing to be with me? I generally didn’t care about anyone’s feelings, even my own, (although I’ve been accused more than a few times of not having any feelings at all Flaw 6). Why did I care so damn much about Brett’s feelings all of a sudden?

I stood up. “I’ve got to go.”

“Are you okay?” He had worry in his eyes.

I had to get out of there before he found out. I quickly scanned the room for my dress and shoes and purse. That’s when I noticed he had placed all of my things, which had been strewn about the room last night, on the table in the corner. I grabbed my stuff but he grabbed my arm before I could make it out the door.

“You can’t just leave like this.”

“Why not?” I knew my tone was clipped. Being mean to get out of the room would be a lot more humane that him finding out the truth.

He blinked a few times as if he was searching for the right words. “Because I don’t want you to.”

My withered heart actually fluttered a bit. It felt strange—good but unfamiliar. It definitely wasn’t something I was used to. I didn’t normally do feelings or emotions, other than anger and rage.

Angry words spewed from my mouth. “Why? Do you want to f*ck me again? You didn’t get enough last night. You want another piece?”

He dropped my arm. “No, that’s not what I meant. I just want to spend time with you.”

He was so sincere it made me want to punch him. Or kiss him. Maybe both. I decided on the former rather than the later but not in the literal sense. I didn’t have to lay a hand on a guy to give him a blow to the gut.

“What did you think was going to happen, Brett? Did you think because we f*cked that I was going to be your girlfriend? There’s a reason they call it a one-night stand. It was a hook up. Nothing more. Deal with it. You live in Palo Alto. I live here in Phoenix. We’ll probably never see each other again.”

He looked like I had just punched him. Score a direct hit. Now it was time to make my exit.

“I may not be smart (Flaw 4) and I may not be nice (Flaw 12) but I do know when I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

“What are you talking about?” He seemed confused. I thought I was being pretty damn clear.

“I’m going back to my room.”

“I mean the flaws with numbers.”

“People aren’t shy about telling me how flawed I am. Some people aren’t shy about telling me repeatedly. I decided to make a list. I have one hundred and twenty six flaws.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “You’re really messed up.”

“I know. It’s flaw 38. Now can I leave?”

“Just one more thing. How much do you remember about last night?”

Shit. I froze. I could feel my stuff fall from hands but I was physically unable to stop it from dropping to the floor. Was I scared? I didn’t remember what that felt like. The last time I remembered being scared was when I broke my arm falling from a tree house. I was eight.