20. Cannon
It had been three days since we’d gotten back from Lake Tahoe, and Demi and I were still not back to normal.
I sat on the far end of the bar, watching Demi work as she smiled at customers and made drinks like a pro.
Yep, I was still coming to The Bridger during her shifts, like a total sucker. She’d barely looked at me tonight, same as during her last shift on Monday night. I hated it. Although I only had myself to blame. I’d been giving her mixed signals since the day she’d moved in.
I’d flirted with her, found excuses to touch her, told her I had feelings for her and then kissed her. All signs I was interested in being more than friends. And then I’d gone and told her I couldn’t be with her, that I wanted to remain just friends. I understood why she was confused and probably hurt. Needing some space and time made complete sense.
I hated that I was the reason the brightness that usually accompanied her, the spark in her eyes, had dimmed. I had to admit that I was confused too, but seeing her like this seemed to prove to me even more that all I was capable of in the end was hurting her. She needed a guy who knew how to be what she needed, who knew how to accentuate her brightness, not take away from it.
I looked down into my drink, wishing the melting ice cubes that remained had some great advice written on them about how I could be that guy for her. The only thing my brain could latch onto was to keep her at a friendly distance, to keep us both safe.
The strong scent of a woman’s perfume hit my nose before the woman even slid onto the stool next to me.
Meeting women at the bar used to be an effective distraction for me, a way to keep any unwanted thoughts at bay. But now? Just the smell of the perfume made me sick.
“Hi, there,” the woman said, in what I assumed she thought—and probably most men would agree—was a sultry voice. Her dark hair was down, and she wore a skin-tight pink dress, showing way too much of her skin.
I wasn’t in the mood to be cordial, and I’d learned from experience that being nice didn’t get me the results I wanted, which right now was this woman leaving me alone.
“Hey, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not interested.”
She smiled coyly, my words not seeming to bother her. “But you haven’t even heard what I have to offer yet.” She slowly slid her hand up my arm.
I shook her hand off. “I don’t need to. Whatever it is, the answer is no.”
I glanced over to where Demi was making a drink, wondering if she’d noticed a woman had joined me. Would she care? I assumed it would bother her, at least a little. Or maybe I hoped it would. Not because I wanted to make her jealous, but because I hoped she still cared about me enough to get a little jealous when I was with another woman. I definitely hated seeing her with any other guy.
The woman followed my gaze. “Ah, I see now. You have a thing for the pretty blonde bartender.”
I returned my attention back to my drink, draining the last of it.
“Oh,” the woman said, a little surprised. “Not a thing. You’re in love with her.”
I choked on the carbonated liquid going down my throat, almost spitting it out across the bar.
A throaty laugh escaped the woman as she patted me on the back. “Sorry I figured that out before you did.”
My throat stung, and my eyes watered. “I…I’m not in love with her,” I sputtered.
How in the heck could this woman who had only been sitting here for less than thirty seconds claim I was in love with Demi?
“Sure you’re not,” she said, like she was trying to hold back a laugh.
“You don’t even know me,” I scoffed. “How could you possibly know I’m in love with her? For all you know, she’s my sister.” I tried not to cringe at the use of that last word.
She let out a loud laugh, catching Demi’s attention, and I hoped she didn’t think I was flirting with this woman.
“For starters, because when you said the word sister, it was like ash on your tongue. And then, most obviously,” she punctuated the word, drawing my eyes from Demi to look at her instead, “the way you look at her.”
My jaw clenched in annoyance. I should have just gotten up and walked away, but I stayed seated, wanting to prove her wrong for some reason. “I won’t say I don’t care about her, but love? That is an emotion I am not capable of feeling.”
Her long pink nails tapped against the bar as she watched Demi. “She’s beautiful. I’ll give you that. She has a sweet aura about her.” There wasn’t a hint of jealousy in her tone.
“She’s an incredible woman,” I told her as we both continued to watch Demi work.
She looked back at me. “And how does she feel about you?”
I cleared my throat and fidgeted on my seat. “She, uh, she likes me too.”
She rolled her eyes, giving me an exasperated look. “Why can men be so daft sometimes?” It was more of a rhetorical question, so I didn’t answer. Especially since I had a feeling that if I told her why Demi and I weren’t together, she’d think it was dumb. As an outsider, it probably seemed like the easiest decision ever. We liked each other, we got along well, she made me feel things I’d never felt before. It sounded like a no-brainer, but no one understood where I was coming from. They couldn’t because they’d never stepped foot in my shoes.
“Some unwanted advice,” she said, already halfway off the stool. “If a woman like that is going to give you a chance, you take it.”
She sauntered off, and I turned back to look at Demi. Again. She was laughing at something Robby had said, and I realized it had been way too long since I’d heard her laugh.
I was man enough to admit that the woman in the pink dress had a good point. I should have been jumping for joy that a woman like Demi was interested in me. But every time I even tried to entertain the idea of us being together, my fear of hurting her sliced through me.
Demi began making her way down to me, and I didn’t even try to hide that I had been staring at her. Add that to the many mixed signals I was giving her.
“Hey, do you want another drink?” she asked.
I looked down at my drink, remembering that I’d finished it. So that’s why she was coming down here. To do her job.
I rubbed my forehead, working to hide my disappointment. “Uh, yeah. That would be great. Thank you.”
She took my glass and filled it. “Are you okay?”
That was a loaded question. The simple answer was yes. The complicated answer was no. There wasn’t anything seriously wrong. My only problem was that I didn’t know how to be with the woman I wanted to be with. I didn’t know how to tell West and Victor that my flirty playboy days were over and that now I was thinking about taking a risk with Demi and that there was an extremely high chance I’d hurt her. I could hardly think about Victor’s face filling with dread and the talking-to he would give me about how I wasn’t even close to being good enough for his daughter.
But despite all that I said, “Yeah, I’m good.” I forced a smile, but I could see on her face that she wasn’t buying it.
“Well, you know where to find me if you need anything,” she said with a soft smile and then went to help another customer.
Her shift was almost done, and then we could head home. Not that we’d hang out. We hadn’t done that since we’d gotten back from Lake Tahoe. But at least it was better than sitting here watching and wishing I could be a different guy, the kind who could be with her and not completely mess things up.
I’d been right. Once we were home, she showered and got ready for bed, and I didn’t see her for the rest of the night. I only played Call of Duty for thirty minutes before deciding to go to bed myself.
Now I laid in bed, finding sleep out of reach. My mind kept going back to the beautiful blonde in the next room.
She found it hard to talk to me after our kiss, but maybe…she would find it easier to text me.
Yeah, yeah, I was a desperate man, but I missed her.
I picked up my phone from the nightstand and sent her a text, not sure if she’d still be awake.
Me: Hey.
Yeah, so it wasn’t my finest line, but I hadn’t thought past just texting her.
A few seconds later, the ellipses bubble appeared, excitement rushing through me that she was awake and texting me back.
Demi: Hi.
Okay, so we weren’t off to a strong start, but it was a start, nonetheless.
Me: How were classes today?
I didn’t really know what to text her about, I just knew I wanted to text her. But before Lake Tahoe and the kiss, she would come home and tell me about what she’d learned in school that day. I missed the normalcy of it, talking about mundane things that happened in our day-to-day lives. I’d quickly gotten used to it. Now that it was gone, I realized how much I missed it.
Demi: They were great. It’s so much more interesting than my classes were at Stanford. I get excited to go to school every morning, even on the days when I’ve had to stay up late because of work.
Demi: Or because I stayed up late playing video games with a certain guy. ;)
I smiled, her words giving me a little hope that maybe we’d get back to that sooner rather than later. She was teasing me, and that was a good sign.
Me: That’s weird. There’s a girl who keeps me up late playing video games too.
Demi: SHE keeps you awake?
I smile, able to picture the exact look she would be giving me right now if we were talking face to face. Her brows would be lifted in a pointed stare, her arms crossed against her chest.
Me: Yeah, she keeps me awake most nights.
Me: Like tonight.
It wasn’t smart to send those texts, but I couldn’t help it. The barrier of texting always made me say more than I normally would.
Demi: But you didn’t even play video games with her.
Me: I know.
Demi: Is she why you’re not sleeping now?
Me: Yes. She’s all I can think about.
Me: I know I have no right to tell you that, but I didn’t want you to think you are the only one having a hard time reconciling your feelings with why I think it’s best for us to stay friends.
Demi: It would be a heck of a lot easier if I did think of you as just a friend.
I shouldn’t have smiled at the text, but I did. It was wrong of me to be so happy that she was still struggling to put me back in the friend zone. I recognized that it made no sense that I was demanding only friendship from her, but I didn’t want her to think of me like that at all.
Me: It would be a heck of a lot easier if I thought of you as just a friend too.
Me: And if I stopped thinking about our moment on the dock.
I squeezed my eyes shut and smacked myself in the forehead. I really shouldn’t have texted that. I blamed it on how late it was and the boldness I only had when texting in the dark.
Demi: I knew you’d be a good kisser, but I had no idea it was going to be that amazing.
Demi: So really, it’s your fault that it’s so hard to go back to being just friends.
I chuckled, glad we could still tease during such a serious conversation.
Me: My fault? No way. You were too tempting.
Me: I’d be able to go to sleep tonight if I didn’t remember how good it felt to have you in my arms, to know how amazing your lips felt on mine.
There was a pause in our texting, and I worried I had said too much. But then her response came through.
Demi: You said you didn’t regret kissing me, and I want you to know that if friendship is all we ever have, I don’t regret it either. I don’t think I could ever regret anything with you.
An emotion I couldn’t put my finger on washed over me, a warm tingling feeling. The pinprick sensation in my eyes had me blinking fast to compose myself. I read her words over and over.
She couldn’t really mean that. Could she?
My mind wanted to immediately go to how I’d somehow fooled her into thinking I was a better man than I was, but Demi knew me. She knew me in some ways more than West.
Another text came through while I was stuck on her previous one.
Demi: With that being said, I want you to know I respect your boundaries and will not do anything to cross the line between friends and something more.
I was both grateful and disappointed with her text. Gosh, I really was messed up. How was I supposed to respond to that?
When I thought back on our time together over the last three and half weeks, I realized she’d never once done anything to push us to be more. It wasn’t until I had kissed her that she had wondered why I wasn’t willing to try to take the next step with her. And she had every right to ask me that after I had kissed her.
See? This was why staying friends was the only option. We weren’t even in a relationship, and I was already screwing up.
Me: I don’t want to lose you, Demi.
Demi: You won’t.
Demi: Good night, Cannon.
Reading her words gave me a sense of peace I hadn’t realized I’d needed since we’d gotten back from Lake Tahoe. I’d become so good at keeping people out that I worried I didn’t know how to let people in. But despite my hang-ups and my fears, Demi had made her way into my life, and I couldn’t risk giving that up. Not when she’d become one of the very few people I cared about. She meant too much to me.
I just had to hope that someday the feelings I had for her would subside.
Me: Good night.