Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Charles laughed. “You are cute. You just don’t know it.” He motioned in her direction. “You interested? I’m an excellent matchmaker.”
“What? No. Fuck no,” I snapped. When Charles cocked his head slightly, I added, “Sorry. I just…don’t do that. It’s different for me.”
He nodded and let it go, but I could see he wanted to ask, could see he was curious what I meant by that. As pushy as Charles could be—his word, not mine—he knew when to back off and always did. I never felt pressured to share or do anything I didn’t want with him.
“Let’s just…eat and listen to music.”
“Sounds good to me.”
I looked back over my shoulder, feeling bad and hoping the hostess didn’t take it personally. I wished I could be the type of man who would be playful with her, then enjoy a night of touching each other. I’d tried—the sex part, not the flirtiness—and when I could perform, it was only biology that kept me hard. But it always made me feel even more alone than I had before.
When the waitress came over, I got a beer and Charles a Coke.
“Y’all know what you want to eat?”
My gaze caught Charles’s, who nodded.
“I’ll have the bacon cheeseburger and fries,” I told her. “Medium.”
“Barbecue chicken and mashed potatoes,” Charles added.
“Coming right up!” She took our menus and left.
“They’re not bad.” Charles motioned toward the stage.
“Yeah, I like ’em. The singer’s got a throaty timbre, and he’s good at the guitar.” I turned to watch him, studied how his fingers moved across the fret. It was like magic, but then all music was.
“They give others a chance to play and sing in about an hour, I think. Are you gonna go up there with me?”
I blanched. “After knowing me about a month now, what in the hell makes you think I’d do that?”
Charles laughed, then nudged my foot with his. “Because you love music.”
He was right. I did. Part of me wished I was the kind of man who could easily go with him. “That don’t mean I’m goin’ on that stage.”
“Okay. If my suggestions are ever too much, you can tell me. I like to offer but don’t want to push.”
It was strange how you could both appreciate something and dread it, but that was how I felt about Charles asking me stuff like that. I liked that he wanted to spend time with me and include me, but things were just more difficult for me than they were for others. “Thank you.”
We chatted for a while. Well, Charles chatted, and I added my two cents when he required it. While I liked the music, it was hard for me not to shift in my seat sometimes. It always took me a while to settle down when I was around a large group of people.
“Here you go.” The waitress set my plate in front of me, then did the same with Charles’s. I ordered a second beer, knowing it would be my last, but it did help take the edge off.
“Good?” he asked after my first bite. I felt grease on my lip, so I wiped it with a napkin.
“Yeah, yours?”
“It is.”
The band played song after song after song while we ate and Charles carried the conversation. He always seemed to know when to ease off and when to try and pull me into the conversation more.
Our meal was done when the band slowed it down some, nothing but the soft chords of the bass and lead guitar. “This next one is another original. If you like what you hear tonight, we’re The Neighbors. You can find us online.”
As soon as the lyrics started, I could tell it was a song about loving someone who didn’t feel the same.
My pulse beat harder than the drum onstage, my stomach dropped like every word he sang hung an anchor from me. The feeling was different than it usually was, though. More of a dull throb than piercing pain. It made me think about Nadine, sure, and it reminded me how much I missed her, but the sharpness to my pain was gone. I couldn’t figure out how to word it other than that.
“I gotta take a piss.” I pushed to my feet, and without waiting for Charles to respond, I made my way to the bathroom. Luckily, it was empty. My breaths were hard to get out, like something was constricting my windpipe. I gripped the sink, squeezing it until my fingers hurt, gaze glued to my reflection in the mirror, while I willed my rapid heartbeat to slow down.
I didn’t know what I was feeling, why this hit me so hard. Why the hurt not being as potent was almost like losing something that had been a part of me for as long as I could remember.
My vision swam again like it had in the grocery store. I counted in my head, trying to calm myself down. You’re okay. Stop freakin’ out.