Page 70 of Get to You
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Beau already has his shoes on when I'm done getting dressed. I'm super excited about seeing his place. He's mentioned it’s close, but that's all I know.
I grab my black moto jacket, slide my feet into a pair of grey Lucchese boots, and pull my small cross body purse over my head. I'm ready.
I turn around to see Beau watching me with a small smile. His gray shirt is a little wrinkled. He doesn't have a jacket because it was warm today out in the sun, but now he'll probably freeze.
"I'll call a cab. It'll only take a minute"
"You don't want to walk?" He asks and pulls his phone from his back pocket looking at the screen, before sticking it back.
I point to him answering with, "It's probably twenty degrees cooler now with the sun down, and you don't have a coat."
He looks down, "I still dress like I live in California. I don't know if I even brought a coat, but I'll be fine. We can walk, it doesn’t bother me." I think about us walking home earlier today, wondering what made him nervous then.
Was it the heavy crowd?
"Okay, but don't come crying to me when you get the sniffles."
His bottom lip pokes out, and he actually pouts, "You wouldn't make me soup?"
I so would, but he doesn't need to know that.
I tut and roll my eyes, turning my back to him, “I’ve heard men can be real babies when they're sick."
I unlock the door, and walk out.
He catches up to me quickly, "I don't know about your other boyfriends." He sneers the words, "But I am no baby." He pats his hard chest as an indication of his manliness.
"I haven't had anyboyfriends," I try to put the same amount of disdain into the word as he did, but it just sounds weird coming from me. He pushes open the entry door, standing with his back to it as he holds it open for me to pass.
I look up as I do and say, "Thank you," for the simple gesture.
He nods, seeming distracted, "What do you mean you haven't had any boyfriends?" His voice sounds guarded, like he is uncertain if he should be asking me about it.
I attempt to sound casual as I say, "Just what I said, I've never had a real boyfriend." I know it's strange, I'm twenty-three and I've never had a boyfriend, but after my experience in high school and my failed attempts at intimacy, I haven't really tried since.
He's walking next to me and looks down, "I thought you didn't do casual?" He seems kind of disappointed in my answer.
"I don't," I say simply.
He stops and the couple behind us has to veer around us as he grabs my arm, "What does that mean then? You've never had a relationship, and you don't do casual?" His brow is drawn in; it seems to really be bothering him. I don't want to hash out my history standing on the sidewalk, but maybe it'll make it easier to just throw it out there while we're here so it doesn't seem like such a big deal.
"High school was tough for me," I start and grab his hand to pull him along. "I was this hillbilly girl thrown into a private school in New York. The girls hated me immediately, and the boys were just as bad, they just hide it better." We step past a few street performers and keep a steady pace as we walk. I don’t need to tell him the gory details of the ‘pranks’ that were played on me, all in the name of good fun of course. "Anyway, right after I got up here, I met a guy in a coffee shop. He took me to his place, but not much more happened. He could tell I wasn't really present, ya know.” It’s embarrassing to say, so I look away and continue to walk ahead. “A few years later I tried my luck again and it was—” I am not sure how to put it"—um it was well, the same, but this guy wasn’t as aware."
I stop walking. I try to form an accurate description of it. He stops too, I can feel his eyes on me. I don’t meet them. I look instead at the street, pretending to be engrossed in the few people moving up and down the sidewalk. I laugh and decide to just go with the truth, "It was really fast and pretty terrible."
I finally chance a look up at him and immediately start laughing harder at his horrified expression.
"What?" He almost yells. Laughing, I motion down the street.
"Are we close?"
He shakes his head no but says, "Yeah, it's right up here." We continue on in awkward silence. After another block, we are standing near the front of the Dakota building, and my jaw almost hits the ground.
"You're trying to get away from the celebrity life, so you moved into the Dakota?" I ask incredulously.
Beau looks sheepish, "It’s a friend’s apartment, that's why I didn't offer it to Brian, and it would be like handing him to the wolves. This place is crazy. I swear people stake out the door. Most of the people that live here must give a fucking press conference every time they walk out the door. I hate it."
