Forget to Remember - 6. Chapter 6

While at first surprised with how smoothly Owen and I were getting on, shockingly well for a blind date anyway, the first flush of desire started to fizzle out somewhere between the appetizer and the entree. I kept getting flashes of excitement, sure. Admittedly, I had flashes of fear too, because we would hit these awkward spots at dinner where silence would come in. It wasn't the pleasant companionable silence that Maris and I had, it was more the gut clenching what do I say now type of quiet. However, even given the occasional lapse in conversation, dinner was far more relaxed and pleasant than I'd feared. And it was a blind date after all, isn't awkwardness part of that by definition? We had split the bill, which I made unnecessarily awkward, but still I had to give the dinner a solid seven out of ten.

Now we're strolling towards the town square, because there were signs promoting live music. Trying to,hold onto a good attitude, I feel my anxiety creep up again. Owen is nice, smart, hella cute and what the hell did he want to go out with me for? I'm so gauche and miserable. Caught up in spiral of self doubt I'm unable to calm myself the way I've been practicing. Instead I feel my stomach clenching with dread. All of the things I've heard and thought about myself in the past whirl around my head as I walk. Suddenly the idea of being sent out on blind dates by my best friend’s man seems like pity. Oh man, this is totally a pity date isn't it? Maybe I should plead an early morning, call it a night. Maybe I -

“You're being so quiet.”

I smile and laugh under my breath. Caught. I guess my anxiety was spilling out in a rather unmissable.l fashion.

“I'm usually pretty quiet Owen. But yeah. Sorry. It's not, well. It's not that I'm not enjoying being with you. I'm just, heh. I'm kind of a wallflower type,” I stammer through my apology. It's not that I don't like him, that I haven't had a decent time. It just feels off.

“No, no apology needed. I'm just wondering if this is typical of you. Or if maybe I was a bore, or you're not feeling a connection.”

Owen flicked his eyes nervously over to me as we walk side by side towards the lively sounding crowd. It doesn't take a genius to pick up on the hopeful note at the end of his sentence.

I stop walking, and put a hand on Owen's arm. Maybe I should just face this head on. Perhaps this really is a pity date. Owen halts beside me and we lock eyes briefly before both of us look away. He has a regretful look on his face, and I brace for impact.

“Josh. You're really sweet.”

And here it comes, the BUT I thought.

“But I just don't think we have a good connection.”

Ah, ten points for Gryffindor. The sweet but no sentence. I should have placed a bet on myself. I moved my face into a reasonable facsimile of a smile and sighed.

“Sure. I get it Owen. I'm sorry. It’s me I know. I'm sure. Let's just say, well. I've been through some rough events the last few months. And hey, I thought I was ready to get back out there. But I guess it's pretty clear I'm not.”

I try to keep my tone even and not sound like I'm unhinged. It's taking everything in me to try and keep using all the tips to keep steady Naomi has spent weeks teaching me as I wait for him to respond.

Standing on the crowded but achingly lonely sidewalk, Owen nods, avoiding my eyes. We are both know I'm trying to save face. Then, as I look at his cute face and the way his lips twist with the rejection he's trying to gently offer, I feel bold. This is ridiculous. It's ridiculous to dance around things. I am behaving like a teenager with no social skills. Naomi said I needed to make my voice heard. Well here goes nothing.

“To be honest Owen, I'm not sure why you would have been interested in me, though I'm flattered. I think it's likely you're just a nice guy my friend recruited. But it's fine. I'm trying to build myself up, and my therapist suggested I take chances and do things I wouldn't. So, yeah. I agreed to be set up on this date. I'm glad I did. I need to get out, to try things. I'm so scared usually to be around new people. And since I'm on a roll of saying shit that is deeply personal, I'm not sure I would have wanted this to be a good date. You're nice but. Honestly, I well—”

I take in a deep breath. My heart is beating so fast and I'm shocked at the river of words pouring from my mouth. I can't seem to stop talking, which is thrilling and terrifying. I keep going.

“I'm half in love with a guy named Kells, but it's super complicated and he's a cop and probably has some superhero complex about me and my issues even though he was sorta totally stalking me what with sending flowers and texting Maris and such and I was avoiding his advances even though I liked him. I still like him, I shouldn't probably, and now I'm sad because it's been a couple weeks and I haven't heard from him—”

Owen cuts me off mid ramble. His eyebrows have raised ever higher through my loquacious episode, and now his eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Kells. A cop. You mean Kevin Kells? Tall, blonde, hung like a damn horse? That Kells?”

A wealth of emotions and reactions barrel into me. How does Owen know him? Well, since he appears more familiar with Kell’s dick than I am, I could guess how he knew him.

“Yes,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “You know him then?”

I feel the blush hitting my cheeks, and ducking my head I begin preparing for the worst. This so-called date has entered absolute worst-case scenario levels. I hear a sardonic chuckle. Raising my eyes, I see Owen's lips purse as he is nodding.

“Honey I'm sorry you're stuck on his ass. Yeah, I know Kells. Half the gay men in this county and the next one know him too. He's a master of the booty call. You're a sweetie Josh, don't waste yourself waiting on him. I mean hell, his dick is good but not wait around forever good.” Owen's face is disdainful as he confides all of this. He rolls his eyes and continues,

“And you would wait, he isn't the relationship type. Though I hear he's slowed down and hasn't been out in a while. But even so, he called me a few weeks ago to renew our friendship shall we say.”

Owen's face looks frustrated and sad, and just a tiny bit proud when he finishes his speech with such a gem. My heart lurches around my chest like a drunken frat boy at a kegger. The whole time Kells was pursuing me he was hooking up with Owen? And who knows who else. Holy Fuck. How dumb am I? If this wasn't proof that it wasn't a relationship he wanted, that I was just a sad piece of trash he wanted to fuck with and be the good guy savior for then I didn't know what would be.

I take deep breaths, trying hard not lose my composure and squall like an infant right here on the street. I wince with the stabbing pain but scoff inwardly. Is this really anything I didn't expect deep down inside? My hands clenching, I fight the old feelings of self-disgust and anxiety rising up. I need to get home, this night is surpassing worst case scenario and is flying up into epic failure.

“Well. Shit.”

It's really all my mouth is capable of producing right now. Owen begrudgingly meets my eyes, scrunches his face in apology and starts giving my shoulder a pet, like half of an aborted bro hug.

“Sorry” we both say at the same time.

Owen stands there, shifting his weight before continuing.

“Hey Josh. I'm really sorry. Don't worry dude. You're a cutie. And, some guys really like the settled down quiet types.”

Just not you, or Kells, or anyone I've met yet, I think to myself.

“Look. I'm going to go. It's been fun. Yeah.” And with that bald lie, Owen turns and walks quickly away, a smart move considering I have not been successful after all at keeping my eyes dry.

At least I have something new to talk about to Naomi on Monday. Sigh.

*************

The lights on the dancefloor flash and pulse, turning the dancers’ faces into almost obscenely grotesque masks as they writhe together to the beat. I could feel my irritation growing as I keep a steady eye on the crowd, almost hoping someone acted up so I can vent some of the aggression pent up inside. My lip curls in anticipation as I watch one overly groomed Adonis get handsy with one of the regulars, but just when I shift my weight to step forward, I see the boyfriend and his crew return from the bar. The thwarted Adonis looks frustrated and after glancing at his watch heads for the door. Good. We didn't need his kind in here anyway. I will my hands to unclench and take a deep breath, hoping to relax.

“You're going to give yourself a heart attack dick-breath,” comes from just behind me. I turn to find my good friend and part time boss Chris smirking at me.

“Fuck off bozo. Keep up the abuse and you won't have your cheap ass bouncer out here working for pennies and promises,” the grin on my face belies the word choice I make.

Chris smiles at me and punches my shoulder with affection. Best friends for years, I know I'll always help him out with his business, even if only to keep me out of the house brooding over mistakes I've made. I've picked up more work here at Chris's place over the last few months, whenever I have an off day pretty much. I had tried to go on as I always had, but one terrible hookup with a guy that had always been a sure thing for me did nothing but show me that empty sex was not going to be enough. As hot as Owen was, I had found myself working hard to even keep my erection at first. I hadn't called him again, or anyone else I usually had on tap. For the first time since I was a teenager, getting laid wasn't a priority. I needed more. I was constantly feeling unbalanced and on edge. My grin for Chris falters as I turn my eyes again to the crowd. I know who I'm looking for, and I know he is never going to appear.

“Hey Kells, I know you're struggling man. Why don't you just go see him? You know where he lives.” Chris suggests gazing at me with exasperated eyes.

“Well, lots of reasons. The first being I'm not a stalker and like my real job too much to lose it.”

It's not the first time I've replied with this statement and honestly, I love being a cop. I'm not going to jeopardize my career by hanging around the house of someone who rejected me.

Chris shakes his head and rolls his eyes, “Then get your shit together please. You're depressing to be around.”

“Fuck you. I'll be fine,” I mutter. And I will, eventually.

***********

“Ok so, what if we set you up with someone a bit more your speed?”

I roll my eyes at Maris and continue flipping pancakes.

“No.”

“Josh listen, Owen is old news. So, my cousin Gina has this neighbor guy —”

“No Maris,” I interrupt, focused on crafting the perfect wheaten circle of golden deliciousness.

Maris obstinately continues extolling the virtues of her next unwitting victim of Operation: Get Pitiful Josh a Date.

“—I think his name is Adam, or Aaron maybe? Well, anyway, Gina says he is a librarian and that sounds like you right? So, I can give her your number to give to what's his face—”

“Maris, NO!”

I turn and glare at her. I'm suddenly angry. I know she means well but I don't want any more interfering or setups. We stare each other down across my bright sunshine filled kitchen. I sigh and smile tiredly at her.

“I appreciate you always wanting better for me, but please Maris. Stop. I'm not ready. I need to work on myself more. Did you forget that I cried in the street in front of one of his tricks for crap’s sake? Because I haven't. I need to get myself on a different level before I can think of dating.”

I watch as she obviously bites her tongue. Finally, she nods and giving me a hug says, “When you're ready, you know I will forever be your wingwoman. I love you.”

“Yeah yeah. Eat your pancakes bitch before we make this mushier than it needs to be,” I playfully gripe.

Eating pancakes together in the stilted quiet I think a lot. I can move forward, I know I can. I will do it on my terms though. Something I've learned these past few months is that the world keeps going even when I make poor choices.

You might think that is a defeated way of looking at the world. I see it as liberating. I was always so scared to do the wrong thing that I often didn't do anything. Making headway against the crippling shyness I've had for years is hard, but not impossible. And every time I stand up for my wants or make a choice that disappoints someone else even when it was clearly the better choice for me, I feel more powerful. I feel stronger, more whole. I doubt I will suddenly turn into a party animal whose life revolves around making social contacts and being the top dog at work or play, but I do feel more comfortable with people. Even new people, which my boss had noticed at the last all department meeting.

I keep these thoughts in my head even after Maris takes her leave and I start my normal Saturday routine. Well, I would start it except I need more coffee. Maris being herself had enthusiastically washed up after we ate and cracked the carafe to my coffee machine. I'd have to go and get coffee first. And hell with it. I was going back to The Buzz. I love that place and I could handle it. It's not like Kells would magically appear there.

*********

Finally a Saturday off. I should be using it in productive ways, especially given how much I'd been working lately, both the force and the bar. My house is a mess and I have more than a few errands to catch up on. Instead I'm lounging in a coffee shop, enduring the clingy barista's attempt to flirt while I half heartedly read social media posts and sip on a cinnamon latte. The bell over the entrance jangles again, it's been fairly busy in here today. I look up idly to peruse the arrival and lose my ability to breathe. Its him. He's here. I've waited months for this and finally, he's here. As fast as multiple plans rush through my mind I shut them down. I'm torn between going over to say hello and waiting for him to notice me. My thighs tense as I vacillate between sitting patiently and rushing to his side. I honestly don't know which is going to help me more. Shit. Damn. I chuckle darkly because if I had been kicking around any thought I was over Josh, seeing his face ran it into the ground. It grabs me by roots, I'm not over him, and I don't want to be. I hold my breath as I will him to look my way and simultaneously praying he doesn't see me.

His hair is longer, it makes him look even softer. And yet he has a new aura about him. I can't quite say how, he just looks different in some indefinable way. My eyes track his every move as he orders and reaches back into his pants pocket for his wallet. Frantic patting and a deep sigh have me on my feet before I can stop to think. He is just about to step away when I reach the counter.

“Here, let me get that. I've left my wallet behind on occasion myself.”

I watch his back stiffen before his head swings to me with agonizing slowness. I hand over my card and meet his eyes. I force the words out past the tightening of my throat.

“Hey Joshy. I've missed you”

**********

I'm sitting in the parking lot. In three seconds I'll go in. Yes. Three. Two. One. Ok, well maybe I will give myself a few minutes.

I try to pep talk myself. He isn't there. You can get coffee Josh. You can do this. Don't be a child. Kells is not there, that would be too cliche. Even if he were there, he isn't going to talk to you. You're the only one with weird hangups you loser. Hmm. Pep talk me is pretty shitty at pep talks.

Staring at my hands squeezing the life from the steering wheel I start deep breathing. I can relax. I will be ok. I am in control.

I feel my body releasing tension. I need coffee now more than ever. I have to go in. Nodding decisively, I clamber out of my little car. I'm ready.

I find the crowd inside is a lot to handle, so instead of glancing around I focus on the order board. Maybe I should branch out, hmm what's a MorningBlast? Nah, nothing is wrong with a cinnamon latte. It's what I get. I like it. Kells likes it too. The thought catches me sideways and I force my mind to move away. I study the informational plaques about the coffee bean and history of its cultivation like I'll be quizzed on them later. Finally it's my turn.

“CanIhelpyah?” is drawled at me. And while I have missed The Buzz, I have not missed Jonathan. He throws a vicious smirk at me when he recognizes me.

“Oh it's you. Other cinnamon latte. Well, well, that'll be four-fifty,” he smugly stated while his eyes gleam with wicked amusement.

I ignore him as I reach for my wallet. Which is not in my back pocket. Shit! I check all my pockets to be sure but I sigh as I remember quite clearly it's on the kitchen counter next to my grocery list. Just before I turn back to the door, I hear him.

“Here. Let me get that. I've left my wallet behind on occasion myself.”

Oh. No.

No. It can't be. With speed a sloth would find slow, I turn my head towards him. I meet the shining blue eyes of the man I've been hating and missing and feeling extremely conflicted about. Oh yes. It’s Kevin Kells. And this is probably the worst day of my life.

“Hey Joshy. I've missed you.”

Dammit. My heart clenches like a bully's fist. Everything I've rehearsed in my head, the imaginary conversations I've made up, the hundreds of lines I've practiced abandon me. I can only think of one thing I want to say.

“Kells. Have you then? And, oh, Owen says hello.”