Chapter 5: Word Vomit, Anyone?

Chloe

I can tell he's waiting for my response. Which any other time would make me want to mess with him a little bit. But right now, the thought of even pretending to still like this guy turns my stomach. So, I don't let Rex wait for my response longer than the few seconds it takes me to gag and burst out laughing. "Want him? Screw that! No. Noooo. No." I shudder in disgust. "Blech. I was the one who broke up with him and we weren't that serious to begin with. It was a Tinder swipe that never should have happened and we were only together for a little over a month."

"Good. He doesn't sound worth it."

"He wasn't. I think the only I absolutely shouldn't have slept with him, either. Nasty fucker." Rex chuckles at my grumbling and I point at him. "What is it with guys? Why? WHY? WHY? WHY are you this way?"

He raises his hands in the air and scowls. "Hey now, don't lump me in with men like that."

I narrow my eyes on him but don't respond. He could be married with 2.5 kids at home and a dog named Squirt. I walk over and look out the office window. I've been to The Flying Goat a few times before and once when they had a party on the back patio, which is what I'm currently looking at. I'm surprised I've never seen him before.

A flash of lighting lights up the sky and I watch as rain pelts the glass. I didn't even realize it was raining. It actually brightens up this day for me, though. I love a good thunderstorm.

"Chloe," Rex says quietly. I don't turn around or acknowledge him but he won't stand for that. "Chloe," he repeats and this time I do turn around. Slowly, resting my butt on the window sill.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry you had a supremely shitty day."

"I've had worse." I shrug as if it's not a big deal, but the truth is, I have had much worse days. And I know that today was just one of those everything is going to hit you at once days and tomorrow will be better.

"I'm sorry for that, too."

I shrug again because what else is there to do? I can't turn back time and stop my mother from getting cancer. I can't take away the day she told me I have a brother or the way I spoke to his father when I told him I didn't want to have anything to do with either of them. I had no reason for it, but grief had warped my mind and all rational behavior had left the building. I chewed Paul out for daring to come see my mother, even though I was the one who called him and asked him to come. Then I told him that under no circumstance would I ever have anything to do with his son.

Regret for my behavior and words I said didn't hit me until after I buried my mother. I placed a single red rose on her grave, standing alone. When I turned around, prepared to leave, I saw Paul standing off to the side. Offering his support to me. And once again, I brushed him off as if he didn't matter, walking past him without uttering a single word of thanks or even a simple hello. Later that night, I laid in bed feeling lonelier than I'd ever felt before, and cried for two days straight. For the loss of my mother, but also for isolating myself from the only family I had left.

"Why am I here?" I ask for the third time.

He rests against the back of the chair, legs spread wide. He's the picture of relaxation while I'm strung tight. "I wish I could give you a better reason than I did before but really, it's because I didn't have a choice. Something about you pulled me in."

"That's a charming line that I'm sure works on all the ladies," I sass.

"Normally I don't have to use lines," he tells me unapologetically. "That might sound like a dick thing to say, but it's the truth and I figured you could use a little honesty."

"So, what? They just come to you?"

"Yeah, basically."

"Not surprising," I mumble.

He stands from his seat and I watch as his legs eat up the distance between us. His brown boots thud against the tile floor.

Rex stands about a foot from me, crossing his strong arms over his broad chest. "It wasn't a line or me trying to charm you or feed you bullshit, Chloe. If there's anything that I can guarantee you I'm not, it's a liar. I grew up in a family who centered their lives around one lie after another and I refuse to be that."

"Okay?" I realize that most of my comments come out as a question but I'm still confused. He said something about me pulled me to him. What does that even mean? Plus, he's talking like we're on date and he's promising me the way he'll be, or not be, in a relationship. "Well, this has all been fun, rehashing my train wreck of a life with a complete stranger, but I'm sure my friends are curious about why I haven't returned."

"Okay," he says, sounding disappointed and I can't help but feel the same that he didn't seem to put up a fight for me saying I'm leaving. Strange.

"Well, thanks, for letting me cry on your shoulder."

"Technically, you never cried on my shoulder and only let out a few tears."

"Hmm. True. So basically you just kidnapped me and made me spill my guts all because you, how did you put it? Felt pulled to me?"

"That's the gist of it."

"Hmm," I hum again. I'm not uncomfortable but I definitely am out of my element. "Okay well, nice meeting you," I say, turning to go out the door and back to my friends.

"Yeah," he grumbles.

I'm just about to walk through the door when I hear him say "Fuck it" and then louder, "Wait."

I spin around and see him pinching the bridge of his nose, glasses pushed up a bit.

"What?"

"Did you drive here?"

"Huh?"

"Did you drive here?" he repeats.

I turn my head to the side. "No, I took a horse and buggy."

"Good method of transportation these days."

"Yes, I agree. The horse's name is Frank, by the way."

He nods as if talking about taking a horse and buggy to a bar is perfectly normal. "Perfect name for a horse."

"I think so."

"How much have you had to drink?"

"Wow. I was just being sarcastic. Didn't think you'd mistake me for being drunk. I was only able to get in a couple sips before some whacko stole me away from my friends and hauled me into a strange room."

"I wasn't thinking you were drunk. I'm not a moron. I understand smart ass when I hear it. I was just asking because I wasn't sure if you had a way out of here or if you rode with your friends."

"I drove alone."

"I have the perfect cure for a shitty day."

I cock an eyebrow. "I thought you said you wouldn't give me a line."

"Ha! No. Not that. Something almost as good, though."

"I'm not sure," I hesitate.

"Your friends are welcome to join us. Or you can tell them where we're heading if that would make you more comfortable."

I look out the door and back to him. "Where is it?"

"Balance. Have you heard of it?"

"The restaurant? Yes."

He sticks his hands in his pockets and looks adorable. Shy, almost. "Been there for dessert?"

"I've never been there, ever."

"Then it's time to change that. Meet me there? Either just you or your group of friends."

If I invite them, they'll interrogate him. If I tell them I'm leaving, they'll know something's up.

"You know what?" he suddenly says, taking a few steps back from me.

"What?"

"Don't worry about it. It was stupid of me to ask. We don't know each other and I can tell I'm making you uncomfortable. That wasn't my intention. To come off so strong, I mean. I don't even know why I asked," he mutters, looking uncomfortable himself.

"No," I rush to correct him. "You. You didn't make me uncomfortable. Just shocked me, I guess. I wasn't expecting any of this."

He smirks a cute little half smile. "Well, considering that your day has been full of surprises."

"So true."

Maybe this is a sign of some sort. After such a crappy day, I need to be willing to open up my mind and do something out of the ordinary for me. What's the harm in going to have dessert with an extremely handsome man, anyway?

"I'll let you get back to your friends," he says, looking away.