Leo's Chance(16)

She shakes me out of my reverie with her words, "So, Jake, do you date a lot?" She’s biting her lip as if she’s worried about what my answer might be.

And here we are. I can’t lie about this. I’m not even sure why I feel compelled to be completely honest about my past in this regard, but something in me feels that it’s crucial and so I answer her honestly. "No. There have been a lot of women, Evie, but no, I didn’t date many of them." I glance over at her to see her reaction but she’s staring ahead, not giving me any clues. Not only do I want her to know that she’s different, but I want her to know that I’m not that man anymore, and so I go on, "I’m not proud of that, but it’s the truth. Does that bother you?"

She’s silent for so long that my stomach starts knotting. Finally she says quietly, "Jake, I can’t be your f*ck buddy."

I have to keep staring straight ahead at the road not to burst out laughing. Is that what she thinks? Let me make this a hundred percent clear. "I don’t want that with you, Evie."

"Oh. I just thought… I mean, I… Because…"

Shit, I didn’t phrase that properly. Let me make this a hundred and ten percent clear. "What I mean is, when I f*ck you, you’re going to be mine. Is that clear enough for you?"

She keeps staring straight ahead, but I see her squeeze her thighs together in my peripheral vision. I almost groan out loud.

"Evie, look at me. You feel this too, don't you?"

She hesitates for just a second before she looks over at me, nods, and whispers, "Yes."

I smile at her as I pull into a parking spot in front of the "Chart House."

I need to ask her about her past too. I’m sure she’s dated. How on earth could a girl who looks like her not have gotten lots of male attention over the years? The very thought of it turns my stomach, and I feel disgusted not only by the thought but also with myself for having the thought. I don’t have the right. I should have been here making sure no other men so much as looked in her direction. I should have… I should have… stop. This isn’t productive right now. Work with reality, not what ifs.

I shut off the car and turn to Evie. "Can I ask how many men you've dated, Evie?" I try not to hold my breath. Whatever she says, I’m responsible for. However many men she’s been with, is my own fault. I need to accept that.

It looks like my question surprises her and I notice that she’s blushing slightly as she says, "So many men, Jake, but I doubt you'd say I actually dated many of them."

I freeze. What the f*ck? But then I realize she’s mocking me. I exhale. "You're f*cking with me," I say.

She tilts her head. "It's okay for you but not for me?" she asks.

No. It’s not okay for either of us, but she wouldn’t have made the mistakes I made. She would have found some way to be better than me. She always had. "Yes, because you're a better person than I am," I answer.

"Jake–" she starts.

"I just want an honest answer. I just want to know how many men have been in your life."

She sighs. She probably thinks I’m all over the map. Unsure one minute and caveman the next. But that’s pretty much exactly what’s going on inside of me. The two halves of me are dueling. I’m scared to death and possessive as hell. It’s exhausting. But I have to know. Maybe I want to torture myself, I don’t know. But I need her to answer me. After a minute, she says, "I've dated a couple guys. Mostly set-ups by my friend Nicole. No one seriously, and no one more than three times. The last guy I went out on a date with was a year ago. We went out for dinner once; he asked if he could take me out again, I declined. Is that specific enough for you?" She looks away.

I take her hand in mine. "And in high school?" I ask. Surely there had to be someone special after I moved to San Diego.

"High school?" she shakes her head slightly and laughs, but it sounds hollow to my ears. "No, I didn't date in high school."

It slowly settles into my soul that neither one of us has been in love since each other. Something inside of me takes flight, soaring. I lean over and turn her head toward me with one finger on her jaw and kiss her sweet lips. That possessiveness sweeps through me again.

We smile at each other for a few seconds before I take the keys out of the ignition and say, "Time for me to feed you. And talk about lighter stuff. I want to see you smile and hear you laugh. I want to know who Nicole is, I want to know what your favorite movie is, why you love to run so early in the morning, and what music is on your iPod. Wait there."

I let her out of my car and lead her into the restaurant.

**********

We take our seats and I smile across at Evie, taking her hands in the middle of the table. She smiles at me and looks appreciatively around the restaurant. "This is beautiful. I’ve never been here," she says.

I can’t help thinking about where we both came from and what we would have thought about eating in a place like this when we were kids. It’s not the fanciest restaurant in town, but to us, it would have been like landing on another planet.

My mind goes to a time when my mom was zonked out on the couch in an alcohol coma. My dad had smacked her around for who knows what, looking at him, or some other grievous error, and after he left, she drank a bottle of Vodka and didn’t wake up for two days. We had precious little food in the house as it was and we ran out completely the next day. I went around to some fast food restaurants and snagged as many ketchup packs as I could and made a horrific version of "tomato soup" to keep Seth and me fed until our mom came around enough to function. It sucked but I had someone depending on me and I did what I had to do. I was nine.