Room for You(10)

“Did she back off once you told her about your girlfriend?” I tried to be coy when I asked, when really I wanted to know every disgusting detail about his relationship. How long had they been together? Were they serious? Was he going to marry her? Then I wanted her phone number so I could tastelessly call her and ask her what this sexy creature was like in bed.

“Yeah, she pouted … again and went up to bed.” A mischievous grin crossed his face. “But … I don’t have a girlfriend.”

My heart leapt into my throat.

“What? But … I thought I heard…”

“I just told her that so she’d leave me alone.” He chuckled like he was pretty proud of himself.

“Oh, well, your secret is safe with me.” I zipped my lip shut and smiled at him nervously. For some reason, I felt safer when I thought he had a girlfriend. Since Zach and I split, I had been so careful and precise about what type of man I was willing to allow myself to get close to. I wasn’t about to throw that all away on one charming stranger with a smile that could melt glass.

“I was looking at the pictures your mom has out. There are lots of you and the girls. Are you an only child?” He walked over to the fridge, grabbed the orange juice and set it on the island.

“Yep, just me.”

“I also noticed that there wasn’t a guy in any of the pictures with you and the girls, and your mom mentioned you were single. Where’s the girls’ dad?” He poured juice into two glasses and slid one toward me.

I raised the glass to my lips slowly in a desperate attempt to stall answering his questions. I never talked about Zach with my best friend, let alone someone I had known for a handful of hours.

“Uh … he’s gone.” My plan was to use the vaguest answers I possibly could.

“Hmm.” He looked down at his glass for a minute, contemplating his next question. “Was he ever around? Does he know the girls? Does he see them?”

My eyes widened as I took a deep breath, overwhelmed with the avalanche of personal questions he was dumping on me all at once.

He must have noticed the hesitation on my face and put his hands up in front of him. “Whoa, I’m so sorry. That was really pushy of me.”

I looked down and smiled shyly, picking at an imaginary spot on the counter.

When I didn’t respond, he continued, “Listen, I really am sorry. I don’t normally turn into Dr. Phil when talking to a pretty girl. I guess I was just trying to find something to talk about so that you wouldn’t turn around and go back down that hall to bed. Let’s talk about something else.” He looked around the room, scrambling for something new to talk about. “So, how about this weather?”

I looked back up at him and my stone heart cracked just a little bit at his adorable awkwardness as he tried to backpedal. I felt bad for being so standoffish and wondered if maybe talking to someone who I didn’t have to see again would make me feel better. I took a deep breath and decided to go for it, hoping talking about my past, just a little, would feel therapeutic, not painful.

“No, he doesn’t see them. He left right before their first birthday. I haven’t seen him since. I don’t even know where he is,” I blurted out, one sentence right after the other.

“Wow, he left you?” He looked at me incredulously, shaking his head. “What an idiot.”

His comment embarrassed me slightly, but also made my heart soar. It had been a long time since a man had complimented me, and never someone as good-looking as Brody. I didn’t have time to respond before he continued his inquiry into my past.

“So, that was like four years ago, right? Have you dated since?”

I quickly thought about yawning or faking a sudden headache and going off to bed, but what I did next surprised even me. For once, I didn’t feel like running. Talking to Brody and looking into his sincere, green eyes was comfortable, like I had been friends with him for years.

“I’ve dated a little here and there, nothing serious. I’m pretty picky about who I go out with.”

“Picky? How come?”

“My life isn’t just about me anymore. I’m dragging two innocent little girls along on this ride, so I definitely have a pretty solid idea of what I want in a partner.”

“Partner. Hmm, that sounds so … official. We’ll get back to that—right now, though, I’m dying to know these qualities you’re looking for.”

He pulled the stool out, sat down and leaned in closer, anxious to hear what I was going to say next.

I pulled out the other stool and followed suit.

“Well … he has to be responsible, stable, grounded…”

Brody’s face was unreadable, as though he couldn’t compute what I had just said.

“What?” I asked him defensively.

He didn’t answer, he just dropped his head into his arms and pretended to snore, loudly.

I reached over and smacked his arm. “Knock it off!”

His head snapped back up, and he looked bewildered. “Why the hell would you want that guy? He sounds like a total buzzkill.”

“He’s not a buzzkill, he’s responsible. A good role model for the girls.”

“No way! The girls are five. They have you to be their good role model. They want someone who will stomp around in the mud with them and let them stay up late and eat junk food when you’re not home. They need someone fun. Sounds like you do too.”