Hare Today, Bear Tomorrow (Mating Call Dating Agency #1)(18)
“I hear that castle is pretty crazy,” Stacy said. “That’s a pretty wild divergence though; pyramids followed by some tyrant’s abode?”
“Always been a fan,” she said. “Well I mean not a fan in the sense of liking the whole impaling people for fun thing, more the ambiance, you know?”
“Makes sense,” he said, and took another bite of bread. “Like biting?”
Garnet snorted so hard she almost horked the wine out of her nose. “What can I say? Sometimes it’s nice to get a little nip here or there.”
It was Stacy’s turn to laugh, but at least he had the presence of mind to clear his mouth before booming. The two sat in silence, just enjoying the slightly cool breeze that slid through the balcony, around the two of them. Without any notice, Stacy grabbed Garnet’s hand and held it tight on top of the table. “If I asked you, right now, to be my mate, what would you say?”
“I’d say that we’ve known each other less than a week, and that it seems absolutely insane to do anything like that with such short notice,” she said, staring at the gentle waves his fingers were making intertwined with hers. “And I’d also say that I’d be lying if I hadn’t thought of exactly the same thing. But we can’t, not now. We’ve got—you’ve got—your career, I’ve got my reporting, I don’t know, I just can’t...”
She chewed her lip and breathed a sigh of relief when a plate of coq au vin appeared and gave her a moment’s respite from the awkwardness.
“Mine’s almost over,” Stacy said.
“How?” Garnet took a bite and chewed much more slowly than she normally did, but he just waited. “I mean, you’re not even... see? I don’t know how old you are!”
“Thirty five,” he said. “My knees are kinda getting worn out. My shoulders ain’t what they used to be. And anyway, I’ve never been one on extravagant spending. I don’t want to end up like what’s-his-name in The Wrestler.”
“Mickey Rourke. I’m thirty three,” Garnet said all in one syllable. She felt the heat in her cheeks flushing her skin heavily, and wished that she wasn’t as into this guy as she knew she was. It’d be a lot easier to laugh all this off and just never call him again if she didn’t want to give in to exactly the same things he was talking about. “Thirty three and I can’t remember the last time I actually trusted anyone.”
With that, she stuffed a big fork load of chicken into her mouth.
Stacy, when she looked back up, was nodding slowly. “For me it’s a thing where I always figure the gain from trusting someone isn’t ever going to outweigh the pain when they invariably fu—screw me over.” After a moment he continued, “Sorry, uh, pro wrestlers aren’t really known for their genteel language.”
“My brain keeps telling me this is crazy, but I don’t want to listen to it. My heart is telling me something very different.” Garnet put down her fork. “I know exactly what you mean with the not trusting people, but for me it’s a little different. I do that thing where I do trust people. Too much. I let them take me on rides because I want to see what the end of the road looks like. And then when I end up hurt, I blame myself.”
“And then you can’t bring yourself to see that it wasn’t you after all,” Stacy said. Garnet felt the warmth of his rough hand around her own. She didn’t bother trying to pull it away, because there wasn’t anything in the world that felt better right then, than to have him comfort her. “You can’t let yourself believe that you’re the good one, and other people just aren’t worth your time—”
“Or my pain,” Garnet said, before squeezing his hand. She laughed nervously. “Look at me, I’m sitting here in the fanciest restaurant of my entire life and I’m moping about bad ex-boyfriends or... or whatever it is I’m moping about.”
With one of those smiles that could melt an entire iceberg, Stacy studied her face. “Look,” he said softly, “I’m sorry. I’m the one who brought it up. If you want, we can just pretend this whole thing never happened. We can have our fancy dinner, maybe go watch a Judd Apatow movie, and then I’ll sleep on the couch, you take the bed and tomorrow we say our goodbyes.”
He was watching her face so closely that Garnet knew he saw the slight tic in her left eye lid that always seemed to happen when she was trying her damndest to make a decision her head thought was right but her heart knew was all wrong. She chewed her lip hard enough to hurt. At some point during this exchange, another course—beouf bourguignon—appeared although neither of them took any notice.
“I just don’t know how I get myself into these situations,” Garnet finally said with a forced smile. “I think I know what I want, and then when the best thing in the world is sitting right in front of me, I f*ck it up. Sorry,” she added quickly, “journalists aren’t known for our genteel language either.”
That brought another smile to Stacy’s face, and as soon as he grinned, so did Garnet. There was a raw honesty, even vulnerability, in the way he’d opened himself up to her, and she knew that. “I’m guessing you don’t give your feelings away very easily most times?” she asked. “I’m about as open as the Great Wall of China.”
“It’s kinda funny how similar our worlds are,” Stacy offered. He leaned back in his chair, but didn’t let go of Garnet’s hand, and for that she was grateful. “I’m supposed to dutifully take all kinds of pain and injuries and never bat an eye, never complain. You’re supposed to take in all the world’s shit and then just tell everyone about it without getting emotional or anything. It strikes me that neither of these are particularly healthy ways to approach living.”