Gone for You

Chapter 5

I may have a crush on you

Olivia

"I'm tapping out. You should call it before you throw up."

"No! You can't! We've still got," my voice drifts off as I take in the amount of food left untouched. I throw down my napkin and lean back, wishing I could undo my button on my fake jeans. I should have worn my Thanksgiving pants but I really didn't expect me to go completely psycho on ordering half the menu. "You might be right."

"What's that?" he asks, turning his head to the side and cupping his ear.

"Know of anyone who enjoys leftovers?"

His answering grin is smug as he stretches his arm across the chair next to him. "But, you wore your stretchy jeans and everything!"

"Apparently there's a limit to the stretch I was previously unaware of."

He throws his head back in laughter. It's low and rumbly and delicious sounding. I want to curl up in his arms and let his chest rumble against mine to feel that laughter. When I walked through the door and saw Ethan, my stomach flipped over, my nerves getting the best of me. Hence, me ordering enough food for an army.

"More coffee?" Amber asks, snickering at how full our plates still are.

"Please," we say at the same time. She fills us up and asks if we'd like a pallet of to-go boxes to load up our food. I kind of like her and how much of a smart ass she is.

I look to Ethan to answer. I don't have anywhere to bring it since I'm leaving to go back home tomorrow. Which usually doesn't bother me but right now it just makes me a bit sad. "Yes, that'd be great. Thank you."

"Sure thing. I'll be right back with the bill also."

"No rush," he tells her, but he's looking at me, "we aren't finished with our time together yet. I haven't learned nearly enough."

She nods and moves away.

"How'd you and Lily meet?"

"We've known each other forever. Grew up in the same town but we went to different colleges."

"I was going to ask that, where you went to school. I guess I had wondered if you'd end up at Southeast Michigan with your brother."

"Yeah, that was the original plan but I changed my mind during my senior year and went to Iowa. It's hard to explain, but I just needed to be me. Somewhere no one knew who I was." His head turns to the side and he encourages me to continue. "So, it's like this. In my hometown, I was always Owen's little sister or Dennis and Joan's daughter. When my parents got a divorce, everyone in town knew about it. They'd been cheating on each other and word spread like wild fire in our small town."

"You needed anonymity."

"Yes."

"Okay, so you know I have a brother. Do you have siblings?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Only child. It was just Dad and me."

"Where's your mom?" My cheeks instantly flush with embarrassment. "Oh my gosh, that was a rude way of asking!"

He chuckles and my anxiety eases. "It's okay. I let it go years ago. She left when I was a baby."

I gasp and can't even help it when I ask, "A baby?"

He nods and his lips scrunch up and pinch. "Yup. Like I said, I let it go years ago. No use in harboring that kind of anger. My dad has told me bits and pieces over the years but he really didn't know much about her. They had a fling while he was on vacation in Cancun and ended up exchanging numbers right before he came home even though he never expected to hear from her again. Seven months later she called, told him about me and she came and visited him on a visa. She lived with him because she didn't have anywhere else to go and, according to Dad, they got along well enough but were far from being in love. They were young, didn't know what the hell they were doing. Two weeks after I was born, she was gone. Back to Mexico. He tried finding her, of course, but yeah, she didn't want to be found."

"Wow. Your dad raised you on his own?"

"He did. His friends were his biggest support. I have lots of pseudo aunts and uncles who helped so he could do it."

"No grandparents?"

He shifts in his chair, eyes dart to the side quickly. They hold so much emotion. Sadness. Anger. "They uh, didn't approve."

"You mean, because you?" I trail off, not finishing my question.

He nods and my heart breaks. "Yeah, basically because I'm not white. Dad made them make a choice. Either accept it or move on. They couldn't accept it so it was just us."

"So that's where you get your color from, huh?"

"It is. Dad and I look surprisingly alike, but it didn't matter to his parents."

"Have you ever met them?"

"My dad's parents?" He asks, and I nod. I also don't miss that he doesn't call him his grandparents. He seems to relax a bit when I continue asking questions, which I'm grateful for. I expected him to clam up, I suppose. If my mom abandoned me as an infant, I'm not sure how much I'd want to talk about it.

"I've met them a few times. When I was six, my dad and I were at Wal-Mart and bumped into them. I remember trying to hide behind his legs because this strange lady kept staring at me and Dad seemed angry. He didn't tell me who they were until we saw them again when I was nine. I have no idea how I remember seeing them either time. I was at such a young age; I guess it was memorable enough or maybe it was because it was significant and something in me held on to it."

"Makes sense. My friend you met last night? Lily? She's a social worker. She has said before that it's amazing how kids' memories latch on to certain things that seem so little or insignificant at the time but in reality, it's actually a big deal."

"Exactly. Funny how our minds work, isn't it?"

I pluck off a small section of cinnamon roll and plop it in my mouth, even though I'm not hungry. But I can't help myself from picking. "So the second time, when you were nine? That's when you found out who they were?"

He lifts a piece of cantaloupe out of the bowl and eats it. "Yeah. It was kind of the same type of situation, only we were out to eat for my birthday at a pizza place that has games. I'd just won a ton of tickets and my dad and all his friends were cheering, making a big deal out of it." He smiles at the memory, it's crooked and boyish and super freaking cute. "Anyway, I'd just picked my prizes from the counter and was so proud of my stash. Especially the whoopee cushion. My dad showed me how to blow it up and my uncle Jay shoved it under his butt and sat on it, making a huge racket. We were cracking up when they walked up. Again, I remember wanting to hide because my dad's mom wouldn't stop staring at me. Now I realize it was because she just wanted to see me. I don't have kids but even I can't imagine turning my back on them or their kids. I mean, who does that?"

"I don't know." My answer doesn't provide any answers but it's full of honesty.

"Well, now that I've spilled my sad story, tell me about your family."

"They're loud. Crazy. Sometimes annoying because they're always in my business. But it wasn't a fairytale either."

"How's that?"

"My parents got a divorce right after I graduated from high school. That day we met, when I stayed with Owen? That was because I was so sick of being around them fighting and I couldn't take it another minute. For me, it came out of nowhere. My brother swears that he saw it coming even though he was already away at college when everything got bad between them."

"Ugh. That blows. So they didn't fight a lot while you were growing up?"

Now it's my turn to nod. "Not when we were kids, no. The fighting didn't really start until later. I still look back at that time and am confused. They were kind of unhappy, I guess, but then they seemed to rally. It was like they found a love for each other again. But then just as quickly as they'd found that love, it seemed to vanish. I don't know." I shrug. The sting of that time still burns. It's been ten years but it happened during a time where too many things were changing, and it took me by surprise, so it hit me harder than it did Owen. I was getting ready to graduate high school, leave for college and had just lost my virginity. I was very dramatic about everything because I was seventeen.

"That sounds rough."

"It was at the time. They're friendly toward one another now. Neither have remarried. What about your dad? He married?"

"Nope. Never."

Wow. "Never dated anyone serious?"

He shakes his head. "He's content being single."

I want to ask but don't know if I dare. Instead, I press on my lower lip with my thumb, bite down. "Wow."

He barks out a laugh. "Just ask. I know you're dying to know."

"What do you mean?" I try to ask as innocently as possible.

His eyebrows shoot up.

"Oh fine! I can't stand it! But what about," I drop my voice to barely above a whisper, "s*x. He's just, like, never? I mean, how is that possible? Doesn't he have needs?"

He c***s his head. "Needs?"

"You know what I mean. Like, the need to be with a woman? Or maybe he likes men now, because that'd be cool too. But yeah, I would think he's what, at least like fifty? How can he go his entire life without, you know? I know I couldn't do it, go without, that." Then, to drive home my embarrassment, I make a hand gesture and follow it up by pointing at his crotch before mine again along with another gesture. He laughs so hard our waitress looks our way.

"Oh my gosh," he wheezes through his words and laughter, wiping away a tear. "I don't even know where to start."

I touch my cheeks which are flaming with heat. God, please just strike me dead. "Shut up!"

"So I take it when you're nervous you ramble?"

"How'd you guess?" I mumble grumpily.

"To ease your concerns over my father's s****l life," he teases, "I'm pretty sure he managed just fine. He told me once he'd never bring a woman into our home until I was out of school. He wanted to focus on raising me. I know he dated a little bit. But, he had a regular "friend," he says with finger quotes, "Aunt Jessie was around a whole lot, if you get my drift. I actually begged him to marry her once but he was adamant that he was happy the way it was."

"So why aren't they together now that you're an adult?"

His face drops and I hate that I asked because I have a feeling what he's about to say is going to be awful. "She, um, died. I was in my senior year of college and having a hard time. It was winter and the roads were s**t. She didn't care. When Jessie set her mind to something, nothing could get in her way and she was sure they needed to come visit me, no matter how much I protested and told them I'd be fine. They, of course, ignored me. She and dad, they, lost control, hit a tree and she didn't make it."

I gasp. I can't help it. The look on his face, the sound of his voice, it's clear his dad wasn't the only one who thought the world of Jessie.

"Yeah. I struggled for a long time with guilt because even though I told them not to come, I knew they would. If they found out I was suffering in the slightest, they'd both move mountains to get to me."

"And your dad? How did he handle it?"

He looks away, squints like he's trying to focus on something in the distance. "Not good. Regret is a b***h and he has enough to fill an ocean. He wasted years under this crazy assumption that he couldn't go after his own happiness because it would take away from me." He laughs but it lacks any trace of humor. "Jessie? She was the love of his life and the only mom I ever knew. I have few memories of my childhood that don't include her."

"Ethan."

He chews on his bottom lip and I can see he's fighting back emotion. I want to get out of my chair, go sit on his lap and make the pain go away. It's so heartbreaking. Then he wipes his eyes and I can't take it any longer.

As soon as I'm situated on the chair next to him, I wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his neck. We've only just met but it feels so very right to comfort him.

We sit together for several minutes, neither of us seeming to be in a rush to separate. But we're in the middle of a diner and no doubt people are wondering what the world is going on. I'm just about to move when he shifts. His arms wrap around my waist and he pulls me onto his lap, squeezing me tightly. I wonder if he feels this. The undeniable connection that pulses between us. I look at him closely, my gaze tracing his sexy face, I reach up, cup his neck, letting my thumb follow the strong line of his jaw. His fingers flex against my soft curves. Something passes between us as we stare into each other's eyes. It's intense and a bit overwhelming. My heart is beating wildly in my chest.

"As much as I love having you in my lap, and I really, really do like having you here, I can't be held responsible for my next actions if we don't move."

I shudder, thinking I might want every one of those actions he's warning me of.

"Not helping," he growls when I shift on his lap.

"Oh!"

"Yeah. Oh." He pats me on the butt. "Thank you, Liv. For listening and knowing what I needed and not looking at me like a weirdo when I got choked up. But, up you go. Back to your chair. You're tempting enough with the table between us."

I giggle and obey, moving back to my seat.

"Man, this date got heavy fast."

"Is that what this is?" I ask him, joking. Testing. Gah, I'm being such a girl. Wanting affirmation from the guy I'm seriously crushing on but I just can't help it.

"Our first date? One of many to come regardless of our living situation, and the fact that I can tell you're going to fight me? Yes."

I blush and he winks. I really didn't need him adding in a sexy wink. I was already attracted to him enough as it was. "Okay, so tell me. How long have you owned The Flying Goat?"

"I bought The Goat about four years ago. I worked there through college. After graduation, I thought I'd try to have a "respectable," he uses finger quotes around the word respectable making me laugh, "job in an office. You know, the whole 9 to 5 thing. I was slowly dying. When the opportunity came up to buy it, I jumped at the chance."

"I can't picture you sitting behind a desk every day." It's a truth I don't understand how I know so strongly, but I do.

"Like I said, I was dying a little every day. I was working in a marketing department for a big corporation, and it just wasn't me. I like not knowing what to expect my day to be like every day, being on my feet and moving around, meeting new people." He says the last one with a nod in my direction and wide smile, sliding his hand across the table.

I raise my right eyebrow and don't give him my hand. "You meet a lot of new people, huh?"

"Mm hmm. All sorts of 'em. But just so you know, so you can stop whatever line of thinking that's rolling through that gorgeous head of yours, you're not one of many. I don't meet women at my bar and ask them to breakfast. I'm not a saint and a few of my nights have been spent with someone for only that, a night. But this?" His hand inches closer, our fingertips brushing much like they did last night at The Flying Goat. "It's different. I felt it the moment you walked up to my bar. We don't know each other but that's what I'm trying to change. You don't have reason to trust me. Yet. But when I tell you that's not who I am, you need to believe me."

"How do you know that's what I was thinking?"

"Because you have an expressive face to anyone paying the least bit of attention." His fingers thread through mine, playing with the creases between each. He played with my fingers last night, too. It felt more intimate than simple hand holding at the time, just like it does now.

"And you're paying attention?"

"Damn right I am."

Amber drops off three Styrofoam containers and with the hand not holding mine, Ethan moves them out of our way.

"What is the other nickname?"

I pop a grape in my mouth, the juices explode as I bite down, chew, swallow then breathe out a laugh. "You're freaking relentless."

"Damn right I am."

"Always?"

He shakes his head, dimple showing. "Special occasion." I raise my eyebrows, hoping he'll elaborate. Finally, he adds, "I'm only relentless when it matters. When it's something I really want to know more about, that is. And in case it wasn't clear, Liv, I want to know more about you. You fascinate me and it's not just because you're beautiful."

The air whooshes out of my lungs. "I want to know more about you, too." I admit.

"Now we're getting somewhere," he kids.

"Livvy Loo," I mumble.

He grins. "Why are you embarrassed? That's cute."

"Because they've called me it since I was a baby so it makes me feel like a child."

"At least you weren't referred to as an alien."

"Huh?"

He twirls his thumb around mine, fiddles with my nail. I glance down, his hands are working man's hands. They're not perfectly manicured but they're well-kept. His nails are trimmed but I notice a few scars on his fingers, one on the back of his hand. Like he's "My middle name is Thomas. E.T. Get it?" I giggle and nod. "See? It could have been worse."

"But E.T. was so cute!"

He looks horrified. "Wrong. He was scary."

"Uh, what? You were scared of E.T.?"

"Don't distract me when I'm trying to find out more about you."

"Who said it was all about me? Last night wasn't exactly my normal, either. Nor is this morning."

"Ordering enough food for a family of six isn't your norm?"

"Shut up! I was nervous!"

He chuckles, sipping on his coffee. We've already been here for almost two hours, had enough coffee that I'm pretty sure we'll be wired for days.

"So, Livvy Loo, how'd you get started writing articles about v****a nicknames?"

Our server drops off the check and trips as she's walking away from the table. I'm sure she heard him and hadn't expected him to say anything like that.

"Oh, same way anyone gets into a job, I suppose."

"If you say experience, I'm gonna have to call bullshit. No one has naming v*****s on their resume."

"Ha! Uh, no. Definitely not that kind of experience, anyway. I've always liked writing. Even as a kid. When I was in high school I was a member of the yearbook and school newspaper. After I graduated, that's all I wanted to do so I went to school for journalism and took a ton of creative writing classes. I've actually been writing novels for a few years, I just haven't found the courage to publish them yet.

"What kind of novels do you write?"

"Romance." He grins and I narrow my eyes. "If you ask me if I write smut or mommy porn, I'll have to karate chop you."

"You take karate?"

"No. But I'd learn. I'm a quick learner."

He smirks. "I bet you are. But no, that's not what I was going to ask. I actually have read a few romance books and not just for the s*x scenes, though, I do have to admit that they're an added benefit."

My jaw drops as my mouth gapes. "You have?"

He nods and shrugs like it's no big deal. "Yeah. I've always liked to read. I typically read a little more suspense and mystery, though."

I stare at him a moment, trying to see if he's leading me a line of bullshit but I don't see anything in his eyes that tells me he's lying. "Huh. I don't think I've ever met a guy who likes to read."

His slow wink is damn near seductive. "Maybe you were meeting the wrong guys."

Definitely. "Maybe."

"Would you let me read any of your books?"

I sputter out a laugh. "Uh, no. No way. No."

"Are you sure? You seem a little undecided on that," he jokes.

"Ha ha ha." I deadpan. "It's just that, no. It's too personal."

"But you'd let millions of people read it?"

"Well yeah. Because they don't know me. But it doesn't matter because I don't think I'd ever publish."

He rolls those sexy deep brown eyes. "I'll drop it." Then he adds with a smirk, "For now."

"There you go again," I tease. "You're so sure there will be more, aren't you?"

"Never been more sure, surer?, whatever it is, of anything."

I smile at the way he's trying to correct himself as he speaks. "We barely know each other and I don't even live around here."

He shrugs, those wide, strong shoulders raise, thumb traces a line around my palm sending tingles down my spine. "Yeah, but I have a secret to tell you."

Resting my chin in my other hand, I lean in close. "Oh really? What's that?"

"I have a wee bit of a crush on you."

My stomach flips.

"I had no idea."

"I know. I was being pretty subtle about how adorable I think you are."

"Obviously. It completely escaped me."

"Please accept my apologies for not being as obvious as I should have been. So in case you were wondering, you're not just adorable. You're funny, sweet, kindhearted. I like you."

I can barely squeak out the word, "You do?"

"Mm hmm."

"Wow. Must be some crush."

We stare into each other's eyes

"Wanna come with me somewhere?"

Absolutely. He could be taking me ice fishing and I'd be willing to go sit in the frozen tundra for a chance to continue spending time with him. Rather than jumping into it like I want to, I hesitate. I know I need to be careful. Yes, he's an old friend of my brother's but how much do I really know about him? "I don't know."

"Do you trust me?"

"Should I? Look how many people trusted that Bundy guy. Or the guy on that You show. People are crazy."

He chuckles. "That they are. If you'd feel more comfortable, you can drive and follow me in your own car."

Whether it's me being stupid or not, my instincts are telling me to trust him so I go with it. "I'll ride with you."

"Are you sure? I'm fine either way."

I believe him which is why I reassure him. "I'm positive. I trust you."

"Thank you," he says simply but I can see the relief in his expression.

He grabs a container and starts filling it. I'm not sure how well any of this will heat up but there's a lot of food that I hate to see go to waste so I help.

I look for the check but don't see it anywhere. "I got it."

"No! I was the one who ordered enough food for the entire restaurant."

"And?"

"It's not fair for you to pay for everything."

"Don't argue. I invited you here and these leftovers are going to bless someone after we leave here just like your presence has blessed me. Now, you ready? Need to use the restroom or anything before we go?"

"Yeah, I do. I had a lot of coffee."

He slides a wad of cash onto the table and we both make a pit stop at the bathroom. As soon as I walk out, he helps me into my coat, places his hand on my lower back, and leads me outside. To where, I don't know. But it doesn't matter. I have a feeling I'd follow him wherever he leads.

But still, lifting my phone, I snap a picture of him and send it to Lily with the words stating simply, "He's cute but then again, you'd kill me yourself if I wasn't careful."

Lily: You need to lay off the crime documentaries.

Lily: Also, he IS cute. OMG

Lily: Also, also. Thank you for not being the stupid girl in the horror movies.

I grin at my phone before sliding it into my pocket and glance over at Ethan who's leaning against his door, hand covering his mouth.

"Need a better picture in case I end up being a psychopath?"

Without hesitating, I look at my picture then up at him. "Nah, it's good enough."

"Alright then," he says, completely amused.