Manticore. It's seriously hardcore yet so unbelievably beautiful. I lean up on my elbow over him, suddenly very excited as a thought forms in my mind. “You know one of Silver's best friends owns an art gallery, right?”
“He does?”
“Yeah, Nathan. I think you met him once when he came up to the city. It was the night you told that guy I was flirting with that I was actually a guy in drag and you kept pointing at my crotch and telling him to look for a bump.”
He chuckles fondly at the memory. “Ah, good times.”
I pointedly ignore that. “So Nathan. You gonna give him a call?”
“And say what? Hey, guy I've only ever met once before. We don't know each other but do you want to show my art in your gallery? ”
I shrug, because it's not like I know how the process goes or anything. Jeez Louise. “Nathan's pretty cool. I just think it wouldn't hurt to give him a call, is all. I can get his number from Silver for you. If you don't do it, I will.”
He smiles sweetly over at me, a strange look on his face.
“What?” I want to know.
“Just. . .” He shakes his head. “. . .you hate me, yet you still get excited over the idea of me following my dreams. I just think you're incredible, that's all.”
Despite the cold night, my cheeks warm considerably at the compliment. Nice Walt is harder to handle than asshole Walt on so many levels. “I don't hate you.”
“You don't?” He raises a disbelieving eyebrow.
“Fine,” I admit. “The other Walt – the one who calls me mean names and steals my underwear – maybe a little. But the Walt who's sweet to me and takes me to dinner at his grandparents' house and punches a guy in my honor – that Walt I definitely do not hate.”
His eyes light up like I've just made all his dreams come true. I don't know how to handle an expression like that. “Well that's. . .good to know.”
“I like this side of you,” I tell him softly. “It's new. I feel like most people don't get to see it often, which is just a damned fine shame.”
He glances down at my lips, and for a moment I think he's going to kiss me again. And in that moment I realize I'd probably let him. But instead he quickly sits up and slides off the car. He bows dramatically in front of me and holds out a hand for me to take. “Milady.”
Pursing my lips in amusement, I take his outstretched hand and let him help me off the hood. Without a word, he reaches into the car to steal my iPod from my purse, and a second later What's Up by 4 Non Blondes comes on over the speakers. I grin, because this is my favorite song and I had no idea he even knew that.
“What are you doing?” I demand, laughing.
“Asking you to dance.” He holds out his hand to me again.
Unable to hold in my smile, I take it, and Walt pulls me out into the overgrown grass. The long blades are damp and they brush against my legs, soaking my cold feet and calves, but in this moment there's no place else in the whole world I'd rather be.
We sway to the music, grinning uncontrollably at each other. Walt spins me around and out, then pulls me back to his chest as he laughs. The tall grass doesn't exactly make an ideal dance floor so mostly we just sway, but I like the way he holds me close against his hard body.
This is. . .perfect. Too perfect.
Suddenly I can take it no longer. I drop his hands like they're on fire and step back, ignoring the hurt on his face.
“Ibbie, what-”
“Shut your face hole for a minute. Just. . .what the eff, man?” I demand. “What was that kiss about?” Waving my arms around me at the field and the car and the music, I add, “What is this about?”
“I. . .” His mouth opens and closes as he fights internally for what he wants to say. He runs a hand through his neatly combed hair, spiking it up again. That little bit of familiarity is oddly reassuring. “Can we sit again?”
I nod and follow him back onto the hood. We sit at the edge this time, our legs dangling over. Walt is so close
“He does?”
“Yeah, Nathan. I think you met him once when he came up to the city. It was the night you told that guy I was flirting with that I was actually a guy in drag and you kept pointing at my crotch and telling him to look for a bump.”
He chuckles fondly at the memory. “Ah, good times.”
I pointedly ignore that. “So Nathan. You gonna give him a call?”
“And say what? Hey, guy I've only ever met once before. We don't know each other but do you want to show my art in your gallery? ”
I shrug, because it's not like I know how the process goes or anything. Jeez Louise. “Nathan's pretty cool. I just think it wouldn't hurt to give him a call, is all. I can get his number from Silver for you. If you don't do it, I will.”
He smiles sweetly over at me, a strange look on his face.
“What?” I want to know.
“Just. . .” He shakes his head. “. . .you hate me, yet you still get excited over the idea of me following my dreams. I just think you're incredible, that's all.”
Despite the cold night, my cheeks warm considerably at the compliment. Nice Walt is harder to handle than asshole Walt on so many levels. “I don't hate you.”
“You don't?” He raises a disbelieving eyebrow.
“Fine,” I admit. “The other Walt – the one who calls me mean names and steals my underwear – maybe a little. But the Walt who's sweet to me and takes me to dinner at his grandparents' house and punches a guy in my honor – that Walt I definitely do not hate.”
His eyes light up like I've just made all his dreams come true. I don't know how to handle an expression like that. “Well that's. . .good to know.”
“I like this side of you,” I tell him softly. “It's new. I feel like most people don't get to see it often, which is just a damned fine shame.”
He glances down at my lips, and for a moment I think he's going to kiss me again. And in that moment I realize I'd probably let him. But instead he quickly sits up and slides off the car. He bows dramatically in front of me and holds out a hand for me to take. “Milady.”
Pursing my lips in amusement, I take his outstretched hand and let him help me off the hood. Without a word, he reaches into the car to steal my iPod from my purse, and a second later What's Up by 4 Non Blondes comes on over the speakers. I grin, because this is my favorite song and I had no idea he even knew that.
“What are you doing?” I demand, laughing.
“Asking you to dance.” He holds out his hand to me again.
Unable to hold in my smile, I take it, and Walt pulls me out into the overgrown grass. The long blades are damp and they brush against my legs, soaking my cold feet and calves, but in this moment there's no place else in the whole world I'd rather be.
We sway to the music, grinning uncontrollably at each other. Walt spins me around and out, then pulls me back to his chest as he laughs. The tall grass doesn't exactly make an ideal dance floor so mostly we just sway, but I like the way he holds me close against his hard body.
This is. . .perfect. Too perfect.
Suddenly I can take it no longer. I drop his hands like they're on fire and step back, ignoring the hurt on his face.
“Ibbie, what-”
“Shut your face hole for a minute. Just. . .what the eff, man?” I demand. “What was that kiss about?” Waving my arms around me at the field and the car and the music, I add, “What is this about?”
“I. . .” His mouth opens and closes as he fights internally for what he wants to say. He runs a hand through his neatly combed hair, spiking it up again. That little bit of familiarity is oddly reassuring. “Can we sit again?”
I nod and follow him back onto the hood. We sit at the edge this time, our legs dangling over. Walt is so close
Similar Books
