Worth Saving(12)

“Nice car,” I say quietly, almost under my breath.

“Thank you.”

“Is this what you pick up all the girls in?”

He smiles again. “Nah, definitely not. What about you, you don’t have a car?”

“No, I do. I just left it . . . at home. I crashed at a friend’s house last night and I didn’t want to wake her, so I decided to take a cab home.”

“That’s cool. Nice of you to let her sleep. So, can I confess something to you?”

I look over at him. He has his eyes on the road, which is good, because it gives me a chance to just look at him and admire his face. He’s got a strong, masculine jaw and full lips. I can see the hair on his face is starting to grow in, which he’ll probably shave soon since he’s in the military. He’s gorgeous, and the way he shifts through the gears with those strong hands is somehow sexy. You know someone is stunning when every little thing they do is seductive to you, like, the sensual way he’s blinking is definitely a turn on.

“Umm, a confession? Sure.” I answer finally, still checking him out.

“Okay. I have to admit I’ve been thinking about the night we met at Stacy’s. It was only for a little while, but something about that little while kind of stuck with me. I was upset you got pulled away by that guy, and I was hoping I’d be able to see you again. Didn’t expect it to be today, but I’m glad I recognized you out there.”

I’m not sure how to respond, so I don’t. I just let him keep going.

“So, you can be honest with me, okay? Was that your boyfriend the other night?” He asks the question, but doesn’t look at me. He stares straight ahead, but I can tell he’s really hoping I say no.

“That wasn’t my boyfriend. That was my boss, Damien,” I reply.

“You went to the bar with your boss?”

Crap.

“Umm, yeah. We happen to be pretty good friends. He was feeling sick and was ready to go home so I had to help him out.” I hate to keep lying to him, and I’m not even really sure why I’m doing it, but I’m not ready to tell him what I actually do. It really isn’t even any of his business, anyway.

“I see. So, do you have a boyfriend?”

“No.” He smiles when he hears the answer.

“Good,” he says, finally turning to look at me as we pull up to a stoplight.

“Why’s that good?”

“Because now I don’t have to worry about being the * who’s trying to steal another man’s woman.”

I feel a smile coming on, but I force it back and focus on maintaining an expressionless face. I know what he’s trying to do, and won’t let myself get caught up in it.

It only takes us a few minutes to get to IHOP. Austin pulls into the parking lot and makes sure to park three spaces away from any other cars. I understand why. We walk into the restaurant where a forty-something year old redhead takes us to our seats. Both of us order coffee, but I’m sure I’m the only one of us who did it just to mask the smell of the man I was just lying next to.

“So, what’s your story, Layla?” Austin kicks off the conversation. “How is it that someone who looks like you doesn’t have a boyfriend? I don’t believe for a second that guys aren’t hitting on you every second you’re not in your house.”

“There’s no story. I just don’t have much time for that kind of stuff, you know? I’m pretty busy with work most of the time.”

“I see, and you’re a bartender, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Where at?”

Crap.

“Why? Are you going to come stalk me if I tell you? I’ve had to deal with that, you know.”

“Oh yeah? I’m not surprised. I don’t know, if you tell me, I might end up being a little stalker-ish. Who knows?” He lets out a chuckle. It’s a relaxing sound—something that I’m not really used to. He’s got very comforting eyes, and a sense of humor that makes me want to sit back and relax with him, but I’m not falling for that. History has taught me better than that.

“I work at a club called . . . Majestic,” I lie again. “You ever heard of Majestic?”

“Nah, I haven’t, actually. Is that off The Strip or something?”

“Yeah, more towards Summerlin. Kind of on the outskirts of it. Anyway, so what’s your story then? No girlfriend?”

The waitress comes over and sets the two coffee mugs on the table and I immediately pull mine closer to me so I can smell it. The chubby-man-stink is masked, at least for a little while. We place our orders and the waitress walks away before Austin is finally able to answer.

“Nah, I guess we’re the same when it comes to not having much time for that kind of thing. I’ve been in the Air Force a few years now, and I’ve had to deploy a lot, so I really haven’t had the time for anything serious. I just work, and don’t get too caught up in the rest.”

“And what is it that you do in the Air Force?”

“I’m a helicopter pilot.”

A pilot. Impressive.

“Wow! That’s pretty badass of you. You like it?”

“It has its ups and downs,” he replies. His face seems to sadden for a brief second, but he quickly pulls himself out of it. “I love flying, but it makes me have to leave a lot. It keeps me busy.”