He crouches down in front of me and says, "I know what you're doing, and you can stop. None of them meant what you mean to me. I never had or wanted a relationship with them."
"Then why?"
Holding my hands, he admits, "Because for most of my life I've been lost. I dealt with a lot of shit growing up, and I used women as a way to escape. But when I met you...you're just different. I wanted to know you, really know you. You're nothing like those women. Nothing. I've never looked at them or wanted them the way I do you."
"I don't know what I'm doing," I shamefully confess.
"I don't either."
"I mean...I haven't..."
"Been with anyone?"
When I cover my face with my hands, he grips me behind my waist and brings me down to the floor with him, sitting sideways between his legs. Holding me, knowing I must be embarrassed, he says, "Talk to me."
"Only once, but he was really drunk and it...well, it was pretty much over before it begun."
"Sounds like an ass**le."
"He was, but it kept my parents off my back. They really liked him and his family, so we would go out every now and then, but that was about it. So, I can't help but sometimes wonder what you're doing with me." Crap! Did I really just admit that?
"Look at me," he says, and when I do, he continues, "I don't give a shit how inexperienced you are. In fact, I prefer that because the thought of another guy touching you pisses me off. That guy was a dick for treating you like you were disposable. But don't devalue yourself because of that. I won't rush you into anything. You know that right?"
When I nod my head, he says, "You're what I want. No one else, okay?"
"I just get scared, and I feel like you might start thinking you're wasting your time with me. I know you'd prefer that I stay every night here with you, but that's what scares me. I just need to move slow with this."
"You're not a waste of my time. You're worth every second."
Sighing with a mild feeling of relief, I smile as he leans down and gives me a slow, soft kiss.
When I let a giggle slip out, he breaks our kiss and asks, "What?"
"Can we get off your bathroom floor now?"
Laughing, he stands up and holds out his hand to help me up.
"Let's get out of here," he says.
"Where are we going?"
"Let's go hang out at Zoca's and get some coffee."
"Perfect."
Regardless of the rain, we decide to sit outside, drink our coffee, and listen to an insanely grungy street performer. Standing in the rain, he strums the somber chords of 'Something in the Way' by Nirvana as he sings the doleful lyrics. Listening to this stranger sing one of my favorite songs, I get lost for a moment at the familiar words.
"You know this song?" Ryan asks, and I pull myself out of my daze.
I turn to look at him, and respond, "It's one of my favorites."
"I used to listen to this a lot when I was younger."
"Hmm..."
"What?" he asks.
"I did too." When the corner of Ryan's mouth turns up in a small half smile, I say, "Go give him some money."
Snickering, he says, "What? Why?"
"Because I want him to keep playing, and he deserves to be paid." I say as I smile back at him.
He shakes his head at me in amusement when he walks over to the desolate man and drops a few bucks in his open guitar case. When he returns and sits down, he gives me a smirk. "Happy?"
Lifting my mug to my mouth, I murmur, "Mmm hmm," as I take a sip of my coffee.
"I've been wondering about something."
"What's that?" I ask.
"I need to know that you're okay with money. Since your parents aren't helping you out and you just work part-time at a coffee shop, I've been worried."
"Don't be. I'm fine. When I turned twenty-one, I gained access to my trust fund, and my parents resigned as trustees."
"I didn't want to overstep, but I needed to know you're okay."
"I am."
"Ryan, man! Where've you been?" a guy yells as he's crossing the street toward us.
Ryan stands up and walks toward him, clasping their hands together before leaning in for a quick hug as they slap each other on the back. "I've been busy keeping the bar going."
"Shit, man, last I heard that place was raking in the money."
"Something like that."
The guy looks down at me and back to Ryan. "Sorry, I'll let you get back to your friend."
"No worries. This is Candace."
He reaches out his hand, and I stand up and shake it, when he says, "I'm Gavin."
"Hey."
"Sit down and grab a drink, man," Ryan says, and Gavin pulls up a chair to our table. Ryan turns to me and says, "Gavin and I've been friends since I moved here for college."
"Oh, yeah?" I say.
"Yeah, this guy left my ass behind when he decided to buy that f**kin' bar."
"So what do you do then?"
"I work in promotions and marketing at Sub Pop Records."
"Really? That sounds like a lot of fun. Working with anyone good?" I ask.
"Ever heard of Washed Out?"
"Yeah, I have their album actually."