“You do.”
I pause, looking down at her. I’ve only smoked once since they moved in, and I never smoke in the house. I don’t even think Cole knows I smoke.
She clarifies, probably seeing the confusion on my face. “I noticed the cigar butt in the ashtray outside,” she says.
Ah. I continue toward the kitchen, carrying the dishes around the coffee table. “On rare occasions, yes. I like the smell.”
“Why?” She gets up off the couch, grabbing the empty soda cans and napkins and following me.
“I just do.” I clear off the plates and put them in the dishwasher. “My grandfather, he smoked, so…”
It seemed natural to start sharing, but all of a sudden it feels stupid.
“So…?” she presses.
But I just shake my head, closing the dishwasher door and starting the machine. “I just like the smell, is all,” I finish curtly.
I’m not sure why I’m having trouble talking to her. There was no mystery here. My grandpa was awesome, and I had a great childhood, but the more I grew up, the further away I felt from that feeling when I was eight. The feeling of being somewhere I loved and feeling what I felt.
Happiness.
I smoke cigars once in a while to take me back there.
It’s not the kind of thing I feel comfortable sharing with just anyone, though.
But it’s funny how close I came to doing just that with her a minute ago.
I can feel her eyes on me, and the awkwardness crawls my skin.
“You want a beer?” I ask, swinging open the fridge and grabbing two out. Anything to change the subject.
“Um…sure.”
I pop the tops and hand her a Corona, finally meeting her eyes. Her very young, very blue, and very nineteen-year-old eyes. Shit. I forgot she’s underage again.
Whatever. I take a drink and head out of the kitchen. She works in a bar, doesn’t she? I’m sure customers have bought her shots before.
I plant my ass back on the couch, hanging my arm around the back of the seat and taking another drink. The movie still has a few minutes left, and she sits down at the other end to finish watching, but I can’t seem to concentrate anymore.
And I don’t think she’s watching, either.
Something’s changed. The conversation was easy, and then it wasn’t. And it’s my fault. I’m cold. Somewhere after Lindsay and the chaos, I stopped being able to open up. I got too used to being alone.
I frown. I don’t want her to avoid me, because I can’t carry on a fucking conversation. She’s Cole’s girlfriend, and I don’t want walls between him and me anymore. She could help with that.
“Are you planning to stay in town after you finish school?” I ask.
She glances over and shrugs a little. “I’m not sure. It’s still a few years off,” she says. “I don’t really mind it here as long as I can afford vacations from time to time.” She laughs a little. “I just don’t want to be working a dead-end job forever, you know? If I can find work in the area, then it might be nice to stick around for my sister and my nephew for a while.”
There’s lots of construction going on here and in surrounding towns and suburbs. Which is why I found it easy to stay all these years. If she’s getting into landscape design, it’s very possible she’ll have good prospects if she stays in the area.
“Have you ever traveled?” I ask, glancing over at her.
But then I stop, suddenly forgetting what I was saying. I drop my eyes to her ass, her body now twisted around as she leans over the arm of the couch to set her beer down. Her little shorts hug every curve, her knees are spread a little, and for a moment, I’m drawn to the dip between her thighs.
Heat floods my groin, and my cock throbs.
Shit. I look away.