Wasted Words by Staci Hart

“Yeah. I guess you are. But did you ever think to give it up and leave people to their own devices?”

I shrugged, feeling a little foolish, a little meddlesome. The truth was that it kept me busy and fulfilled enough that I didn’t often consider the fact that I was alone. But rather than admit all that, I said, “It makes me feel good to bring other people to happiness. I find it satisfying.”

He looked at me with deep brown eyes, eyes that believed me and accepted me, even when I was presumptuous and proud. Eyes I could fall into, if I looked long enough.

“I guess I can’t argue with that,” he said.

“Good.” I smiled like it was all okay, like he didn’t affect me the way he did. “I hate arguing.”

“Liar.”

“Fair enough. But I hate arguing with you.”

“Liar.”

I laughed and punched him in the arm. He pretended it hurt, bless him, rubbing the spot my tiny hand smacked into his bicep. And then I settled into the couch next to Tyler, through the afternoon and into the evening, trying not to think about his date later or what it would mean. Trying to remind myself that he didn’t belong on my shelf. He belonged on the shelf with the Adrienne Christies of the world.

Night had fallen, and the game we were watching had all but ended when he finally hauled himself off the couch.

He yawned and stretched, arching his back a little. “Guess I should go get dressed. I’m picking Adrienne up in a half hour.”

“Ugh,” I groaned as I picked up the remnants of our afternoon munchies and beer. “It’s not fair. A girl can’t get ready in any less than an hour. That’s a plan and simple fact.”

“Not true. I’ve seen you get ready in ten minutes.”

I rolled my eyes. “I mean real girls.”

He didn’t respond, and when I looked up, he had a look on his face that I couldn’t place.

“What?” I asked.

He shook his head, breaking eye contact as he walked over to help me clean up. “You’re as real a girl as I’ve ever seen, Cam.” He reached for some beer bottles. “Here, let me help you with that,” he said before I could respond.

I waved him off, trying to will my heart to slow down. “I’ve got this. Go get ready for your hot date, mister.”

He scooped up beer bottles. “Too late. Already going.”

I chuckled and followed him into the kitchen, tossing beer bottles in the recycling before setting my armful of snacks down on the counter. Tyler turned on the water and picked up a sponge.

“Get out of here, Tyler. Go on!” I karate kicked him in the butt, and the bridge of my foot spanned one of his rock-hard ass cheeks.

He laughed and put up his hands. “Fine, fine. I don’t want you breaking any appendages trying to hurt me.”

“Ha, ha, tough guy.” I turned and made my way back into the living room as he headed toward his room.

By the time I’d cleared everything and had all but the fundido to deal with, he walked out of his room looking simply beautiful. His tailored shirt was light gray, sleeves cuffed just above his elbows, top button undone. Black pants and belt with a slate gray buckle that you couldn’t help but look at, even if it wasn’t anything special, just a small flash of metal around the line of his waist. He wore deep gray suede oxfords, and as they tread through the apartment and to the bathroom, I found myself frozen in place, watching him inspect his reflection through the frame of the bathroom door.

Something changed, shifted in that moment, and I realized I’d just covered up the fact that I cared about him in ways I wasn’t prepared to deal with. Maybe I’d been hiding the fact that I wanted him more deeply than the simple rules of attraction, knowing he could never really be mine.

Maybe I’d been wrong about everything.

He turned and caught me looking, smiling brightly as he made his way over to me, and I snapped back into action, grabbing the skillet and keeping my eyes on the remnants of the dip inside to avoid meeting his eyes.

“Don’t get into any trouble, you hear?” I said to my hands as I rounded up the dip with a spoon. “If Jack has to fly back to bail you out of jail, he’s not gonna be happy.”

He laughed as he scooped up his keys. “You wouldn’t bail me out?”

“Psh. I don’t have that kind of cash, Knight. Tell Adrienne I said hi.”

“All right, I will.”

I looked up, my hands stilling. “And Tyler?”

He was turned toward the door, his face angled back to look at me, eyes expectant.

“Have fun.” I smiled, lips closed, swallowing hard as I fought the feeling that I was sending him on a death march.

He smiled back, a crooked smile full of mirth. “Thanks, Cam.”

And with that, he was gone.

I looked into the cheese as if the configuration of sausage and tomatoes would tell my fortune like a soothsayer’s tea leaves. But I found no answers. So I sank into a chair at the table and ate it all out of spite.

Tyler

I left the apartment feeling like she’d had more to say — the sensation was so strong that I fought the urge to turn around and go back to talk to her. But Cam was Cam, and I was me. And she’d made it all too clear that the two of us were separate, even referring to me as her brother.

I shuddered at the thought. I had enough sisters to know for a fact that how I felt about Cam wasn’t even in the same universe.

On the walk to Adrienne’s apartment, I considered the last few days.

Last night I’d almost kissed Cam. I don’t know what had come over me. Maybe it was just being a little drunk, like I only needed a tiny break in my inhibitions to make a move. But she’d backed away. Laughed. Rejected me in the way only she could, in a way that didn’t hurt so much as it stung. All I could do about it was to pretend like it hadn’t happened, though I wished I had the courage to find that part of myself that wasn’t afraid and let it loose.