Keeping my eyes on him, I try to gauge his sincerity. Then my gaze slips to my wine glass and I nod. “I forgive you. I apologize for being so crass with my remark. I have trust issues with men, and I’ve never had a real friend so my casual conversation skills aren’t very refined—”
“Wait.” He holds up his finger. “You’ve never had friends?”
“Not really.” I look down at my plate and push my food around.
“How is that possible?”
“My stellar personality…” I wink “…was disguised by braces, zits, split ends, glasses, hips that developed before my boobs, and a painfully shy, introverted personality … get the picture? Oh, and how could I forget, I vomited down the back of the most popular boy in school who was sitting in front of me at a pep rally my freshman year. That’s the day my name was officially changed from Darby to Barfy.”
Trick’s face morphs into a mixture of pain and humor. “And you chewed your finger nails.”
I laugh and nod. “And that.”
“Wow … that’s just … wow. Well now you’re …” His eyes move from my face to my chest and back up.
“Yes, now I have boobs to balance out my hips. They may not be what wet dreams are made of, but they’re functional and give my bra something to do besides cover my nipples under white shirts. And my face survived puberty without scarring. I had Lasik on my eyes and Gemmie pampers my unruly hair.”
Another blinding smile. “You’re…” Trick slowly shakes his head “…not trying to impress me.”
I cock my head. “Is that a backwards way of saying that I’m unimpressive?”
“To the contrary, I’ve never been so impressed.”
I squint one eye. “It’s was the Barfy part, wasn’t it?”
He chuckles. “Yes, definitely that. And your introverted personality?”
I laugh. “In college I crawled out of my little introverted hole. I’m still not the life of the party.”
Trick’s jaw goes slack.
“I know. How could I not be, right? My profession requires adequate social skills, but I still have trouble feeling comfortable around women. I think it’s from years of never fitting into a clique or group of them.”
Trick raises a single brow.
“I’m not a lesbian or anything—” I try to reel in the words, but it’s too late. I grimace. “I mean … I don’t have a problem with them or gay men or really the homosexual community in general.”
Double brows peaked.
Shit!
Closing my eyes, I pinch the bridge of my nose, pausing just long enough to think before I speak. “I desperately wanted to fit in and have friends, I just never knew how. Even today I feel awkward with my female coworkers if I sit by them in the cafeteria. Unless it’s about work, they do all the talking and I just sit and nod with a polite smile.”
“Why, what do they talk about?”
I grin. “Men.”
Trick chuckles. “But you have nothing to add?”
“No, I do. I just have yet to muster the courage to add my two cents. It’s like my mind regresses back to high school and the nightmares I used to have. I imagine an awkward silence after I say something and then the whole room erupts into laughter—fingers pointing, eyes rolling, and me sinking into my chair.”
Trick’s lips pull into a bemused smile. “You’re paranoid.”
“I’m shy.”
“You’re scared.”
“Screw you. Men are jerks anyway. What’s the point in talking about them?”
“Well if you’re getting a ‘subpar lay’ then maybe you need to talk about it.”
“Why did you start doing drugs?”
He chuckles, giving me a slight head shake. “Yeah, I think we’re done here.” Standing, he tosses a wad of cash on the table. “Come.”
I guess we’re both done.
He goes through his routine of getting me ready to ride without saying a word. I let him, because I need the physical touch, even if it’s just his hands twisting my hair or grazing my neck as he fastens the jacket on me. Then there’s the really twisted part of me that hopes—prays—his hand finds its way to my ass when I get on the back.
It does!
I feel like such a fool … a desperate misfit. I’m not that girl anymore. The need to fit in has faded over time and been replaced with a healthy dose of confidence. But Trick has a way of drawing that repressed vulnerability to the surface. I’m not sure how I feel about that.
Chapter Four
This is one fucking huge mistake, but this woman came out of nowhere. I’m fascinated by her. A distraction? Hell yes. A bad decision? Absolutely. Will I do the right thing? Unlikely.
Chapter Five
I expect Trick to fast track to my place and bid me a permanent farewell. He proved he’s not a total asshole and cleared his conscience while I proved I’m a total freak. I had the upper hand going into the evening, but somewhere along the way I lost it. Most guys would look past the freak part in exchange for a quick lay. So I’m surprised when he pulls into his mammoth garage. I have nothing to offer him … at least that he wants.