16. Terrified – Tess
Am I fooling myself? Am I so attracted to this man that I’m putting blinders on to the truth of what a reality would look like with him? It’s entirely possible, and lines up with my way of doing things. I like to think I’m a realist when it comes to my personal life, but I’m a dreamer, seeing things that I want to see. Believing things I have zero business believing.
I’ve been burned before by my own nature that way, and I can see that clearly happening here, but for some reason my instinct is kicking in. My heart is overruling my mind, blinding me to all the red flags, and I don’t know exactly what to do with that. I should probably run away as fast as my feet can take me like he said, but there’s something about Brad that won’t let me do that.
I just hope that something doesn’t come back to haunt me later down the road.
“So, date number one…Eventful,” he chuckles, interlacing his fingers with mine. I love how our hands fit together so naturally.
“Definitely memorable,” I say, smiling down at our hands.
“I guess that’s not so bad, then, huh?”
“Not bad at all.”
“Does that mean there will be a date number two?” he asks, and I love the hopefulness in his voice. Something about his tone melts away all the hesitation I’ve been experiencing the last few minutes. It makes me want to see where this goes even more.
“That would be nice.”
“Nice?” he frowns. “We can do better than nice…can’t we?”
My laughter echoes in the large practice space. “Great. That would be great. Fantastic, even. How’s that?”
“Now we’re talking.” He leans over and kisses me gently. Just a brush of his lips whispering across mine. A chill skitters along my skin that is so delicious, I get goosebumps. “Let’s shoot for the stars.”
On the drive home, I find myself questioning everything. Brad. Gina. Myself. My entire life. Don’t I know better than to think this will work out? Am I really thinking, ‘What red flags?’ It’s as if I put rose-colored glasses on so I can’t see them waving around because they’re blending into the background. I’m overlooking them. On purpose.
Why do I do this to myself? What is so attractive about a man with a history like Brad’s? Nothing. At least, of course, it’s not his history that’s attractive. It’s him. Current him. I see how caring he is for Charlie. He’s so good at making conversation and makes me laugh when I don’t necessarily want to. And the way he looks at me sometimes, it’s as if he sees right through to my soul. But is it just the idea of him that I like?
The potential?
I’ve been there, done that, when it comes to falling for someone’s potential, only to have my heart stomped on when they don’t live up to it. That’s my own fault, though. The lost potential not meeting my invented expectations is never a fair fight. When I give that kind of responsibility for my emotions to someone else it never works. But isn’t that part of a relationship too? You want to be with someone who makes you happy. Someone who you trust with your heart.
Can I trust Brad with mine?
I knew when I first met him that he was going to be trouble, and I was right. But is he the trouble? Or am I? Maybe I’m the problem. I’m overthinking this, like I do with everything.
A long sigh escapes me as I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. Tonight was just a small hiccup. It obviously wasn’t planned that his ex-girlfriend would show up to spoil our date. But what Brad said about not knowing if it could happen again makes me worry. Sure, he’s not his past, but it’s something I’m going to have to fight with. Deal with. It’s as if there are two of him: who he used to be, and who he is now. I’m not sure if I’m ready to deal with that, or if we can reconcile the two.
What’s the old saying? Two is company. Three is a crowd.
When I get home, I run a hot bath, light some candles, and put on one of my old vinyl records. Comfort music. I need to clear my head, and this is one of my old standby ways to do it. Letting the heat relax my muscles, and the music relax my mind, all thoughts of Brad Chambers fade away for a minute.
But only for a minute because my phone dings with a text notification. I slowly open my eyes, instantly knowing who it’s from, and my heart speeds up again. I can’t help the butterflies battering around in my chest at the thought of him.
brAD: Sorry again about tonight. I really did have a great time before…everything. But I am looking forward to date 2.
I hesitate before replying, searching my heart for what I really want to do now. My mind pictures the absolute sincerity in his eyes when he said he would die trying to convince me he’s no longer a playboy. I believed him. My battered and tarnished heart believed him.
Am I really doing this?
I guess I am.
ME: I had a great time too. Date 2 can only be better, right?
brAD: I like the way you think. Actually, I like everything about you.
Well, damn. I’m not sure how to respond to that, but he continues before I can.
brAD: Sorry. Sorry. Too much too soon. Jesus, I’m such a fuck up.
ME: LOL. No worries. I like you too.
There’s a long pause before either of us texts again, and now I’m afraid I went too far.
brAD: Cool. See you tomorrow. Sweet dreams.
ME: Nite.
A warmth rushes through me, and it’s not from the bath water. It’s from Brad. Picturing him sitting at home, worried about my reaction to how our date ended does something to me. It endears me to him even further. Knowing that you’re on someone’s mind, even for just a moment, is a comfort. A safety. A small reassurance that your emotions are valid. You are valid.
For once in what feels like a very long time, I feel special.
Yup, I am totally doing this.