Page 50 of Pretend You're Mine
I didn’t allow myself an answer. No, I auto-piloted it all the way home, and, once there, I started pacing.
I couldn’t sit down. Every time I did, some thought that I was sure if I had said this or that things would’ve gone right, got me back on my feet ready to go to her; until the answering thought convinced me that that was pure stupidity.
Walter gave out a dismal whine.
“I know I’m an idiot,” I said, crossly. “I’m just trying to figure out how to make things right.”
Walter gave a sharp bark.
“I’m doing my best here, okay?” I said.
Walter bowed his head, finally silent. Yep, I was losing it. Talking to my dog. Though Walter, whatever I was imagining him thinking, was right. Naomi and I couldn’t keep going on like this.
Screw the whole family situation, the only thing that mattered to me right now was figuring out a way to be with Naomi.
Starting out, I certainly hadn’t intended for my relationship to end up like this, actually having feelings for her, but it had. I’d meant every word I said to her. Now, the only thing to think of was how to convince her of it.
My phone dinged. It was an email from some chapel. Clicking on it, fully expecting some kind of plea to help the Lord in His good work and donate, I was instead slammed in the chest with the picture.
Would you just look at us?
Naomi and I, that first night, our married hands joined. Our smiles were clearly drunk, we looked to be leaning into each other for support. The guy who had married us must’ve been drunk himself, or just an ass. And yet, there was no doubt that the two people in the picture were obliviously, stupidly happy.
I traced my finger across the screen of my phone. Who would’ve known what a clusterfuck of trouble we’d get ourselves into with that one stupid drunk decision.
I had just started pacing again when a bark stopped me. Walter was at the door, clearly expectant for his walk. Out and away, away from the house, away…
I went up to Walter and gave him a pat, scooping him up and scratching him right under the chin the way I knew he loved.
“Good boy,” I said.
Although this time, I meant it in more ways than one. Because Walter had just given me a great idea. Finally, I knew what to do.
29
Xander
Am I really going to do this?
Yes. No way was I turning back now. I’d driven all the way to Eighteen, and now, here I was, peering through the window like a weirdo. Although it was worth it.
I got to see Naomi in her element – working on what looked to be two different clients at once, cutting away at the first, happy.
And then the venue itself … I gave it a good look. It looked just how I would’ve imagined it – a black, white, and teal color scheme, with chic decor.
Feeling eyes dig into my back, I turned around to see two teenage girls gawking at me like the weirdo I was afraid of looking like.
I scowled as they ambled by, giggling to each other. That was probably my cue to go in.
Inside, the eye-watering smell of hair products was what hit me first. Pretty fruity and overpowering, but bearable. Next was the buzzing of a blow dryer and efficient scissor clinks.
My shoes almost slipped on the smooth tile, although I caught myself just in time.
The blow dryer snapped off.
As Naomi whirled around to look at me, I grinned. “Have time for a shave?”
She just stared at me. “What are you doing here?”
The stares of the three other women, the two getting their hair done and the one waiting, were asking the same thing, but I kept my gaze locked on her.
I walked right up to her comment in an undertone, said, “The other night, you said we don’t really know each other. So, I’m here to get to know you.”
That smile was there. “By me shaving your face?”
I grazed my fingers along my jaw, feeling the few days’ worth of growth. Normally I’d let it grow and for a week or so, but this would do.
“By your shaving my face, yeah.”
Her answer was working itself out in her head, I could see it.
“Fine,” she finally said, motioning to a chair where another frizzy-haired woman was waiting. “Wait your turn, and I’ll come to you.”
So I did. I sat myself on the suede seat that enveloped me pleasantly. I flipped through the fashion magazines before concluding that actual, interesting magazines weren’t here. I watched Naomi, her hands an efficient blur. She was wearing purple and white sneakers I’d never noticed before.
My mind wandered to the Christmas party the next day. It seemed hard to believe how quickly the past few weeks had flown. Okay, not really flown, more like tumbled, clambered and stammered, one move away from complete chaos.
