12. Milan Rivers #2
He mumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like, yes the fuck you do, making me roll my eyes as I walked inside.
Dinner turned out to be a lot easier than our first lunch.
Maybe it was because we’d already gotten past the awkward stage of trying to figure each other out. Or maybe it was because, for once, neither of us talked about Sam, the shooting, or the people who’d been watching me.
For almost an hour, we were just… normal.
Vice told me about one of his restaurants nearly shutting down during its first year after trusting the wrong manager to run it. In return, I told him about my first week as a nurse and the elderly patient who cussed me out for nearly twenty minutes because I wouldn’t let her leave after surgery.
Instead of taking my side, Vice claimed the woman probably just wanted to go home and hinted that maybe I’d gotten on her nerves. I called him ridiculous and told him that was probably why people didn’t like him.
According to Vice…
People loved him.
The confidence in that man needed to be studied.
By the time our food was gone, we’d bounced from one random topic to another without either of us forcing the conversation. I found out he hated mayonnaise with an unnecessary amount of passion, which I told him was childish. Then, somehow, he found out I couldn’t swim.
The look he gave me made it seem like I’d confessed to robbing a bank.
“You serious?”
“I’ve made it twenty-eight years just fine.”
“So far.”
I pointed my fork at him.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Put that ‘so far’ mess on me.”
He leaned back in his chair, completely ignoring my warning.
“I’m teaching you.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “No, you’re not.”
“You scared of the water?”
“No…”
“You can’t swim.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m scared.”
He nodded once like I’d just proved his point.
“A’ight. I’m teaching you.”
The certainty in his voice made it sound less like a suggestion and more like he’d already made up his mind.
Strangely, I didn’t mind the idea nearly as much as I should’ve. That thought alone was enough to make me steer the conversation somewhere else.
By the time we finished eating, I realized I wasn’t ready for the night to end, and that bothered me.
Vice walked me back to his truck, opening the passenger door and making sure I was in before closing it. The ride back to my apartment was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable or anything like that.
A few minutes later, he pulled into the parking garage and parked beside my SUV.
“I can make it from here.”
“I know.”
I climbed out anyway, waiting to see if he’d actually stay behind. Instead, he shut his door and started walking toward me.
I just shook my head.
The elevator ride was quiet. I could feel the exhaustion from my shift finally catching up with me, and by the time we reached my floor, I was ready to climb straight into bed.
I unlocked my door and stepped inside, with Vice following behind me.
A few boxes still sat near the living room wall, and a lamp I hadn’t figured out where to put rested on the floor beside the couch. The place wasn’t completely finished, but it was mine.
Vice looked around.
“Well? Does it meet your expectation?”
“Still thinking…”
I laughed as I dropped my purse onto the kitchen counter. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You got cameras in here like we talked about?”
“Yup, in my bedroom and right there.” I pointed on the TV stand where I had a camera sitting.
“Okay, that’s what’s up.”
“And believe it or not, I’m actually not mad about putting them up in here. I would’ve never thought I’d need them in my house.”
“Shit, even if that would’ve never happened to you, you still should have them in here. You’ll be amazed of all the sneaky shit mothafuckas be on. Mothafuckas that you never expect. Fuck around and security or maintenance be in yo’ shit and you not even know.”
“Oh lord… that would be crazy.” I paused before asking, “So, you have cameras installed in your house?”
“In every room but the bathroom.” I pressed my lips together and lost the battle of rolling my eyes. “Even though nobody ever come visit me. Mothafuckas don’t even know where I live. Nobody but Mace and my aunt… and of course Sam did.”
There was a moment of silence as our mind drifted to Sam, but I didn’t want them to stay there. So, I cleared my throat and asked, “You want something to drink?”
“Nah. I’m about to go.”
“Oh….” The disappointment slipped out before I could stop it. Vice looked at me like he caught it and I immediately turned toward the kitchen. “I mean, okay.”
“You want me to stay?”
“No…” he raised a brow. “I mean…” I closed my eyes for a second. “Not like that. I was just asking if you wanted something to drink.”
“I know what you asked… and I’m asking you… you want me to stay?”
I looked up at him, and he was looking down at me with an intense stare.
The room suddenly felt quieter than it had a few seconds ago. Vice stood several feet away, but the space between us felt smaller.
“I had a good time, Vice…” I whispered.
“So did I…”
Vice took a few steps toward me and for some reason, my breathing thickened as my pulse started racing. I felt like I was suffocating right now.
“I shouldn’t say this.” He paused, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “But, you know I didn’t like those flowers, right?”
I stared up at him, surprised by how easily he admitted that. Trying hard not to blush, I asked, “Why?”
“You know why…” Maybe I did, but I wanted to hear him say it. The problem was, I wasn’t sure what I planned to do if he did. Instead of answering me, he asked a question of his own. “You want him back?”
“Hell no.”
“You sure?”
“Very.”
“Then I don’t like him sending you shit like he still got a place in your life.”
My heart started beating a little faster, and I hated how aware I suddenly became of everything. How close he was standing. The way his voice had lowered. The fact that neither one of us was smiling anymore.
“That’s not really your decision,” I said, but there wasn’t any anger behind it.
Vice lifted one hand and brushed his fingers lightly against the side of my face. The touch was so unexpected that I froze.
He gave me enough time to move, but I didn’t, even though I knew I should have. His eyes dropped to my mouth before returning to mine, and I knew exactly what was about to happen.
The crazy part was, I wanted it.
I wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss him. I wanted to stop thinking about whether I should and just let it happen.
Then Evan flashed through my mind.
Ten years. Ten years of believing I knew the man beside me. Ten years of trusting somebody who had been building another life behind my back.
Vice wasn’t Evan, though, and I knew that. Still, the fear came before I could stop it. I took a small step back, shaking my head.
Vice’s hand dropped immediately.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be.”
“I just…” I looked away, frustrated because I didn’t even know how to explain what was happening in my own head. “I’m not ready.”
Vice simply nodded and stepped back, giving me the space I’d asked for without making me feel guilty about it. “It’s cool… You don’t have to explain. Shit, I don’t know what I was thinking, anyway.”
Neither of us said anything and while he was still able to stare me down, I was unable to look at him.
“I should go,” he finally said.
I just nodded, agreeing with him. I walked him to the door, and for a second, neither one of us moved.
“Thank you for dinner.”
“Anytime.”
“And for throwing away my flowers, I guess.”
I laughed, as so did he.
“You’re welcome…”
I softly laughed Again. “Goodnight, Vice…”
“Goodnight, Milan…”
I closed the door behind him and leaned against it, listening until his footsteps disappeared down the hallway. For the first time all night, I was completely alone. I should’ve felt relieved, but instead, I stood there thinking about the way Vice had looked at me right before I stepped away.
The problem wasn’t that I didn’t want him to kiss me.
The problem was how bad I did…