What I really wanted to do was swan-dive into a big soft bed and sleep for about a week. Too bad that wasn't an option.
Opposite me, Joe sat forward in his seat, arms braced on the table. I'd returned to my usual attire, skinny jeans and boots (there were only two pairs of socks and about a hundred Band-Aids covering my poor blistered feet) and a black bulky, comfy sweater. No makeup or hairstyling, that's for sure. If the man was surprised by the lack of last night's glamour, it didn't show.
With all the body-shaping underwear, lip gloss, heels, and tiny dress, you could almost say I'd been fibbing about who I was. His lie, however, left my Spanx and push-up bra way behind.
We both stayed silent, watching each other warily.
A cute, perky waitress appeared, smile stretched wide at the sight of Joe. A curious gaze looked me over, then dismissed me. I swear, it took the woman no more than a nanosecond to decide I wasn't any competition for my disheveled, hirsute, tattooed companion. Little did she know I'd always thought Jean Grey in X-Men got it right, Cyclops was a way better bet than Wolverine. All of that testosterone and bad attitude mixed with a scruffy face and general give no shits about his appearance was not so wonderful. In all honesty, I'd take cool, calm, and well kept over anger management and body hair issues any day of the week. Joe was all hers. She turned slightly and hitched her hip, subtly blocking me out of the conversation.
Oh yeah, I'd be leaving her a real big tip. Something along the lines of "fuck off."
"Hey," purred the waitress. "Good to see you, Joe."
"Hi, Jess."
"The usual?"
Joe turned to me, apparently unaware he was being oh so obviously hit on. Interesting, his eyes were hazel in the sun, chocolate brown flecked with amber. Last night they'd seemed dark and furtive, brimming over with secrets and lies, but this morning, he was just a guy. Funnily enough, one I thought I'd known, though it turned out I hadn't had a clue. Or maybe it was the other way around. I thought I hadn't known much about him, but actually in a strange sort of way I did--which only complicated things further.
"They do great coffee and fresh juices here," he said. "Excellent pancakes. Sound good?"
"Sure."
Again, a small, safe smile, then he ordered for both of us. I did my best to tune out Joe and the waitress. Proving she had all the moves, however, cute, perky waitress then placed a hand on the table and leaned forward, giving the man a clear view down her shirt. All right, so I might have had a bit of breast envy on account of my minimal mammaries. And yeah, care of recent events and my head cold, my mood registered right around crap level. But if she was the universe's way of messing with me, in an effort to pass along the message that Joe was in fact attractive, well ... duh. I already knew that. Beards and bulk were on many a woman's wish list. They just hadn't been on mine. Could be I'd watched Keanu Reeves in The Matrix one too many times. That slick dark hair and cool outfits. Rawr.
"Are you sure I can't get you anything else, Joe?" she asked, sucking on the end of her pen in a manner that would have made a porn star feel mildly uncomfortable.
"No, I think we're good." Joe looked my way. "Alex?"
"All good over here."
"Thanks, Jess."
"Tell Eric I said hi," said the waitress.
Joe gave her a friendly smile. "Will do."
With a wiggle of the fingers, cute waitress sashayed her tiny little butt back off inside. Yes, fine. I'm a little sensitive about the size of my ass too. In all honestly, my issues are many.
"Friendly girl," I muttered, hunkering down in my black wool coat.
Joe said nothing.
"Hypothetical question," I said, my chin inching up a bit. "A waiter hits on the woman you're with, what do you do?"
He blinked. "There a reason for this question?"
"Just curious." I shook my head. "Never mind."
It's not like it mattered, because after this unfortunate breakfast we'd probably never cross paths again. So the waitress had rubbed me the wrong way. Such was life. Let it go. Move forward. Blah blah blah.
He cleared his throat. "If a waiter hits on the girl I'm with, I do nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Not unless it's upsetting her."
Hmm. "Why only then?"
"If it's not upsetting her, then the problem's mine." He settled back in his chair, stretching out his long legs and crossing them at the ankle. "Make a big deal out of it and I look like a jealous douchebag who doesn't trust his woman to ignore that sort of shit."
"What if she enjoys that sort of shit?"
"Then I'm with the wrong woman."
"Huh."
"What about you? What if a man you were on a date with started flirting with the waitress?"
"Then I'm out of there." I sighed and stared off down the street. Downtown Coeur d'Alene was a pretty place. And a somewhat strange one. "That is a very colorful moose."
Joe turned in his chair, peering through the window at the brilliantly painted statue on the corner. "Yeah. They do different art installations every summer then sell them off as a fund-raiser at the end of the season to pay the artists."
"Wow."
"Moose were the theme one year. Another time we had fountains on every corner. It was a little crazy," he said.
"Cool."
He tipped his chin, studying me.
I took the opportunity to sniffle. So feminine.
"I wanted to talk to you a bit more about what happened between us online," he said, his mouth a serious straight line. "How I came to use my brother's profile."
Ugh. "I'm pretty sure I found out everything I needed to know last night."
"I didn't mean to lie to you, Alex."
"Once is a mistake." I crossed my legs, kicking my black leather bootie back and forth. So I was a little aggravated. Sue me. "Months' worth of emails is not. You could have introduced yourself to me, Joe, told me who you really were. You chose not to. Christ, no wonder you kept putting off meeting. I should have known something was wrong."
"You're right. I shouldn't try to sell you excuses." A big sigh from my "friend." "Truth is, I'm not used to being the bad guy. Usually I'm the one cleaning up my brother's messes."
"Lucky me." Right behind my eyes, what had been a mild ache became a dull pounding. I pushed my sunglasses further back on my head, rubbing at my temples.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, it's just this stupid head cold. Please, continue. You're not used to being the bad guy, huh?"
His frown deepened. "I know it must feel like you don't know me, but you do. It was just a couple of details. But the person talking to you, that was me."
I shook my head. "I don't care. Look, you're forgiven. Okay? If that's what you need, you got it. All good. It's in the past."
"Thing is, Alex, I don't think I really ever saw us meeting. I don't know." He scratched his head. "It was always going to be a clusterfuck that wound up with you hating me. And I liked you too much to want to 'fess up to that."
"As a friend," I inserted. "I know."
"Yeah. But it's done. You're here now. Seems stupid if we don't take this chance to try and get to know each other face-to-face," he said. "Guess what I'm asking is if you'll stay a few days. Let me make this up to you."
"God, are you serious? No. Absolutely not," I said, resolute. "I've had liars in my life before, Joe. No. I can't. I'm going home."
He visibly sagged.
"Sucks that you're having issues being the jerk in this situation. But that's not my problem."
No response.
"Excuse me. I need to go to the bathroom." Time to go splash some water on my face. Pull myself together. Only when I pushed back in my seat and stood, the whole world whited out, spinning in dizzy circles. My muscles weakened and suddenly gravity was not my friend.
"Shit. Alex."
A strong hand gripped my arm, keeping me from keeling over. Already up and out of his chair, Joe guided me back down into my seat. Maybe going nowhe
re was best. Yeah, I'd just hang. No doubt this would all pass in a minute.
"You're gray," said Joe, kneeling at my feet.
"Actually, I don't feel particularly great." In fact, if there'd been anything in my stomach, I'd have probably thrown up all over him. Ha. What a statement that would have made. Only then, I'd feel bad because he was being so sweet and all.
Coffee cups clattered on the table.
"Is she okay?" the waitress asked Joe.
"You mind grabbing her some water, Jess?"
"Sure."
I heard swift footsteps. The growl of a motorcycle passing by outside.
"Maybe I caught some bug on the plane yesterday," I said, pondering my shit condition. The only swooning women I knew came out of Georgette Heyer novels. I wasn't the fainting type. "This seems a bit worse than a stuffy nose."
"You nearly passed out just now. You can't fly in this condition."
"Shit." I groaned on the inside. "I guess not. Perhaps I'll see if I can extend my stay at the hotel."
"And who's going to look after you?" he asked.
"I don't need someone looking after me."
"Hey," he said, forehead furrowed all stern-like. "You could have fallen and seriously hurt yourself just now. Hit your head or something."