The topics of conversation during dinner were far more lighthearted. We chatted about my job at the daycare and his ideas for the job at the hospital. Feeling more comfortable with him than I had the day before, I broached the subject of whether he should charge the hospital for his work. I pointed out they were lucky to have someone with his artistic abilities and he at least deserved some kind of compensation. After he changed the subject to a story about his brother and sister, it became obvious the hospital job was still a subject he wasn’t comfortable discussing, so I let it go. Instead, he regaled me with stories about Travis and Hollie when they were younger, and I told him horror stories about working with small children at the daycare.
As the evening progressed, I was finally able to identify what made Justin stand out from every other guy I had ever dated. He had a mature way about him and seemed to have a firm grasp on what he wanted out of life. You would never expect it from looking at him, which had been my initial mistake, but he had shown his maturity by confronting his father and stepping in to help take care of his family. Since I arrived at college, I seemed to date one of two types of guys: Either they were wishy-washy about their futures and wanted to party all the time, or they were so fanatical about their goals that they didn’t care who they crushed along the way. Justin seemed to be the happy medium. He was laid back and funny, but at the same time he had a seriousness that matched my own.
“I’m not going to beat around the bush here, Brittni. Like I told you before, I like you,” Justin said as we were leaving the restaurant. “And I would really like to take you out again.”
“By ‘like,’ do you mean you want to go steady and I need to start drawing hearts with our initials in them?” I teased.
“Exactly, and I’m going to get matching T-shirts that say ‘I’m with her’ and one that says ‘He’s with me’ for you.”
“You don’t think that’s pushing it?” I said.
“Hell yeah, it is,” he laughed. “So, are you ready to give this whole dating thing a try?”
“Do we have to say we’re going steady?” I asked, scrunching my nose.
“How about we stick with ‘we’re dating’ instead?”
“Dating. I guess I can do that. Melissa will be so proud.”
“Rob too,” he said, parking the jeep in an empty lot several blocks from the campus.
I looked at him questioningly as he yanked the emergency brake.
“I figured we should seal it with a kiss, and since I don’t relish the idea of kissing you in front of your dorm again with everyone looking, I thought a little privacy was in order.”
“Hey, can I trust you to be a gentleman?” I asked as he cupped my face with his gloved hands.
“Definitely not,” he replied before his lips captured mine.
I sighed with satisfaction as his lips slowly moved against mine. His tongue was gentle and naughty at the same time as it coaxed my mouth to open for more. His hands drifted from my face and down my neck as they slowly began to explore my body. The gentleness of his touch ignited a fire inside me and I strained to get closer to him, loathing the gearshift that was proving to be a hindrance. After a few minutes of trying to work around it, we were forced to give up.
“I’m now wondering if this is why my mom was so into the idea of me getting this jeep, because she knew this would be a pain in the ass,” Justin complained, thumping the long stick with the side of his fist.
“I sense a conspiracy,” I said, sliding back into my own seat while I got my breathing under control.
11.
Present Day
1:37 PM
Justin had remained stoically silent since his last outburst. I acted like I didn’t care and felt my indifference was well played by the way he would glare at me every few minutes. While he sat contemplating my demise, I played the “if only” game in my head.
If only I hadn’t stopped to stare at the building when I first arrived, I might have wound up on a different elevator. If only I’d stayed in the bathroom a few seconds longer, I could have missed the ride in Elevator Hell all together. If only I had stayed out of Seattle, I wouldn’t be sitting here playing the damn “if only” game.
Eventually I realized the game only made matters worse. It wasn’t like I had a time machine and could go back and fix any of this mess. Justin was still avoiding my eyes, so I took my time studying him. Two years ago, he was already pretty much a man, but I noticed subtle changes that showed he had completely outgrown boyhood. His shoulders seemed wider and his face looked leaner and more defined. Everything else about him was the same. Like the way he ran his hand over his scruff-covered face when he was frustrated or trying to make a point. I was sad the eyebrow ring was gone, but truthfully, its absence only enhanced his looks. With it gone, you were able to appreciate the golden specks in his brown eyes without interruption. My eyes moved from his face, down his arms, and to his hands. His hands were my favorite thing about him. They were large with rough calluses like a man’s hands should be but gentle enough to create beautiful works of art. The idea that he was so creative always enchanted me.
I forced myself to pull my eyes away from him. It was almost painful to remember how those hands had felt on me.
12.
November 2010
“Don’t be silly. Of course you’ll join us for dinner,” Trish, Justin’s mom, chastised as she hustled around the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the pasta feast she’d been preparing all day.
“Thanksgiving is a family holiday, Mrs. Avery. It would be tacky if I showed up,” I countered, ignoring the smirk Justin was throwing my way.
“Trish,” she reminded me.