Worth Saving(8)

I’m pretty much stunned at how passionately she delivered her speech, speaking without moving her hands at all, just her shoulders when she wanted to emphasize certain words, and she looked at me like my presence was truly offensive. It’s like she’d been thinking about saying that for a long time, and the words finally found their way out. She’s quick on the trigger, and when you couple that with how breathtakingly beautiful she is, it’s almost intimidating. But, I can’t let her go on thinking I was hitting on her when I was actually complaining.

“I think you misunderstood,” I say, hoping I can finish the sentence this time. “I wasn’t trying to buy your drink. When you sat down, you bumped my arm and made me spill my drink in my lap. I was trying to tell you it was okay. I wasn’t saying ‘don’t worry about paying for your own drink,’ I was saying ‘don’t worry about the drink you just made me spill into my lap.’ That’s what I meant, although everything you said just now was pretty true, it happens to not be the case at the moment.”

The wrinkles in her forehead are slowly ironed out by her embarrassment as she realizes the error. I don’t want her to feel bad, so I try to lighten the air with a smile.

“Oh, I’m really sorry about that. That was really rude. And embarrassing,” she replies, looking down at the floor in obvious humiliation.

“Like I said, don’t worry about it. I think I got it all up anyway. See, good as new,” I say, pointing to my crotch, then realizing what I’m doing. “Oh, sorry, I’m not trying to get you to look down at my crotch now.”

The gorgeous woman looks at me like I’m crazy at first, and after glaring at me with a confused expression, she finally lets her mouth shift into a soft, small smile, but still big enough to make my heart feel funny. Not sure what that is, I just know it makes me feel better than before I sat on this barstool.

“I think we’re off to a little bit of an awkward start,” I continue. “You making me spill my drink, and me making you stare at my crotch right here in front of everybody, it’s a little much. Don’t you think?”

Her smile fades and she’s back to being defensive, but it feels different now. Like she’s forcing it.

“I guess so,” she replies, turning to sip her light brown drink.

“I wasn’t really looking for any kind of an introduction, but since I made you look at my crotch, I feel obligated to at least introduce myself. My name’s Austin.” I reach over and extend my hand. She hesitates at first, but eventually shakes it.

“Layla.”

“Nice to meet you, Layla. So, what brings you into Stacy’s tonight?”

She glances down at the bar before she answers.

“Just a night out, I guess.”

“You come here often? Or are you a tourist?”

“I’m not a tourist.”

“Okay, so do you come here often?”

“I guess so. Every now and then.”

When I realize she hasn’t even turned to look at me, I know she’s really not in the mood to be talked to. It’s like that sometimes. Some people want to go out just get a break from whatever life is hitting them with, and they don’t really want a conversation with a perfect stranger. I get that. That’s the mood I was in before she sat down.

Even though I can honestly say this woman is the most attractive woman I’ve ever seen, I can take a hint, so I decide not to ask her anything else. Instead, I face the bartender and chug my second cup of heaven. Once it’s all gone, I signal teenage-looking guy and he brings me another. When I start to take big gulps out of the drink, I can feel her eyes burning into me, so I slow down a little and pull the glass away from my lips.

“So, what brings you into Stacy’s, Austin?” she says to me, catching me off guard. I was sure the conversation was over.

“Umm, celebration, actually,” I answer.

“Celebrating a birthday in Las Vegas?”

“Nah, I live here, too. Stationed out at Nellis Air Force Base. Just got back from a deployment so we’re celebrating, or at least they are.” I motion to the table surrounded by the five clean-shaven men I came with, just as they’re getting geared up for another shot.

“Oh. Not what I expected,” Layla responds.

“What’d you expect?”

“I dunno. I figured you were a tourist looking for a wild night of fun, but you seem way too subdued for that.”

“Well, I’m not really in the mood for celebrating.”

“You’re not glad to be back?”

“Oh, I’m thrilled to be back. It’s just hard to celebrate when you’ve seen the things I saw over there. I just didn’t realize I didn’t feel like celebrating until I got here.”

“I see. I’d ask what it was that you saw, but I get the feeling you won’t tell me.”

“And you’d be right, but I’m sure you could guess. It’s war. Bad things happen when you’re at war.”

Layla stares at me for a second, and it feels like her beautiful brown eyes are looking into my soul, trying to figure out if I’m good or evil. Her expression has softened completely and I can tell that whatever wall she had up before has come down, and it only makes her that much more stunning.

“I’m sorry to hear that. That must be hard. I understand hard,” she replies, looking down as she says it.