Page 3 of Beards and Babies
So I took off for the sea and never looked back. If I couldn’t have her, I certainly couldn’t sit by and watch some other lucky bastard win her affections.
Then I successfully built a wall around my heart no woman has ever stood a chance against. Not that there’s a lot of women in the middle of the ocean where I spend sixty percent of the year, but I’ve had little interest in anything other then a night of fun. That’s been my way since high school when my girlfriend told me she only dated me because I was on the football team. That felt gross, so I just stuck to dating. Taking girls to the movies and mastering my make-out skills. That’s as far as I’ve ever taken it, yet everyone says otherwise. The problem with nasty rumors is, sometimes, people you care about believe them. Milo did.
I guess, it’s not all bad. Robin’s here now, and we can finally talk. I’m confident I can talk her into being friends, so I quickly get dressed and head back out of my room to find her.
Hopefully, she won’t ask me why I was going to sleep in her room. I can’t exactly tell her it’s because it’s the only room in this house I can sleep in, that being surrounded by her things eases the pain that still haunts me whenever my mind settles.
When I’m out on a ship, it’s easy to fill sleepless nights with work, but here, it’s impossible. At least, it was until one night I was so fucking reckless I tried all the beds in the house. I tried real damn hard to avoid hers; I swear I did. I knew I was playing with fire to let myself indulge when it couldn’t lead to anything but more longing, but I’ll be damned if I don’t have the best night’s sleep whenever I stay in her bed.
Making my way to family room, I see her sitting in the kitchen, going through the takeout menus.
“Hey. You hungry?” she asks.
“Starving, but I grabbed groceries. Let me cook.”
“You cook? Like food?” she jokes.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m pretty good at it, too.” I throw out a playful wink, hoping to keep it light. “How do you feel about seafood pasta? Or I could do a white pizza.”
“Wow, I’m impressed, and either sounds great. Thanks.”
Robin proceeds to help me bring out the ingredients and even throws on a pot of water to boil.
“Okay, I think that’s about all the help I can be.”
I laugh. “So when you teased me about knowing how to cook, you, yourself, don’t cook?”
“Basically,” she replies with an easy smile.
“Okay, I see how it is. Still a brat,” I tease, but she scoffs.
“I am not a brat. I can order takeout like no other.”
Without permission my body leans too close to her, and without thought, I tickle her sides.
“I call brat.”
She reels back laughing hard, all while slapping me. I instantly stop and hold my poor battered arms.
“Is that all you got? Feels like a mild wind. It’s mildly windy in here.”
“Oh, very funny. I see you’ve grown up very little in the last… How long has it been now?”
My jaw locks as her sweet floral scent fills my nose. I shouldn’t be this close.
We’re just talking.
“Fifteen years. I think you and I both know that.”
Her cheeks redden, and she steps around me. “Oh yeah, how could I forget the most embarrassing night of my life?”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were going to come over or I would have…” I stop dead in my tracks as I realize I’m being too honest. Her eyes pin me in place, and I really want to ignore the hope on her face.
“You would have what?” she asks cautiously.
“I don’t know.”
Her shy smile continues to creep up, so I keep it light.