I?d gone into the inn on a whim. I?d heard it was always interesting, and noisy, and I felt I needed the distraction. Nothing like trying to put your life together in a new town to bring out the stress.
It was a nearly solid wall of people that night, all talking, arguing, drinking. I made my way to the bar, looking for a free spot, which looked like it was going to be hard to come by. Surprisingly, though, it didn?t take too long, and it wasn?t more than a few moments that I found my distraction, Or, rather, it found me. Though I suppose I should say ?he?.
Eddie Slate, tall, fantastically built, Samoan and excruciatingly handsome. The sort of physically perfect man that you dream up at night and then are embarrassed about it later. Because they couldn?t possibly exist.
He?d surprised me when he said, ?Aloha?, because with all those people in the bar, I was surprised he?d even noticed me. Then again, not that many Hawaiians walking around. I?d smiled, I admit it, and returned the greeting.
One of the things that stood out the most was that his arm was covered, like mine, in the bold, twisting lines that I was well familiar with. Some of the designs mirrored mine, but his carried more? darkness, for lack of a better word. Others probably wouldn?t have noticed it, but it caught my attention. It wasn?t a bad thing, it just told me he?d been through a lot, encountered trials. In particular I?d noticed the markings symbolizing future were long, unfinished. It made me wonder.
He?d asked me about surfing when he learned it was something I enjoyed. He had me smiling, when he wondered why on earth I?d do it. His concern? Sharks. I?d assured him that if you hit them in the nose they?d leave you alone, but I don?t think he was convinced. I thought it was cute. Strange to say of a man his size, but that?s the word that came to mind. Or ?endearing?, maybe. Evidently my response was amusing, because he?d smiled. And the only thing I could think was, ?damn?. I?d thought he was attractive before, but that smile put it way over the edge, into unfair advantage territory.
I?m not sure how long the conversation went on, but about halfway through it, I became vaguely aware that he kept giving glances toward the other side of the room. I didn?t know him, so I didn?t give it much of my attention. When he?d ended up giving a full look in that direction, and a nod, I?d turned to look as well.
The recipient was a young woman, blonde, very pretty, and looking less than pleased, though she seemed to be trying to look nonchalant. I guess because I noticed that it meant she wasn?t doing the most bang-up job.
?Is that a friend of yours?? I?d asked. If I was keeping him from something I could afford to give him an out.
?I was helping her out with a few things,? was his reply, carefully vague, pleasantly neutral.
?Oh.? It wasn?t my place to inquire further. The ?just a friend? spiel was totally played out, but if that?s the explanation he had, no judgment.
?Do you want to get out of here?? he asked, surprising me quite a bit.
I finished my beer before replying, with the only response I could think of, which was ?yes?. Then, for some reason, I don?t know why, I held my hand out to him. I don?t know what possessed me- the second I did it I regretted it. Especially when he just looked at it. But then he took it, and I followed him from the building. It was dark, chilly and the rain was a miserable drizzle. But, somehow, I didn't mind. It might have had something to do with that large hand engulfing mine. Then again, maybe I just like the rain.
It was a nearly solid wall of people that night, all talking, arguing, drinking. I made my way to the bar, looking for a free spot, which looked like it was going to be hard to come by. Surprisingly, though, it didn?t take too long, and it wasn?t more than a few moments that I found my distraction, Or, rather, it found me. Though I suppose I should say ?he?.
Eddie Slate, tall, fantastically built, Samoan and excruciatingly handsome. The sort of physically perfect man that you dream up at night and then are embarrassed about it later. Because they couldn?t possibly exist.
He?d surprised me when he said, ?Aloha?, because with all those people in the bar, I was surprised he?d even noticed me. Then again, not that many Hawaiians walking around. I?d smiled, I admit it, and returned the greeting.
One of the things that stood out the most was that his arm was covered, like mine, in the bold, twisting lines that I was well familiar with. Some of the designs mirrored mine, but his carried more? darkness, for lack of a better word. Others probably wouldn?t have noticed it, but it caught my attention. It wasn?t a bad thing, it just told me he?d been through a lot, encountered trials. In particular I?d noticed the markings symbolizing future were long, unfinished. It made me wonder.
He?d asked me about surfing when he learned it was something I enjoyed. He had me smiling, when he wondered why on earth I?d do it. His concern? Sharks. I?d assured him that if you hit them in the nose they?d leave you alone, but I don?t think he was convinced. I thought it was cute. Strange to say of a man his size, but that?s the word that came to mind. Or ?endearing?, maybe. Evidently my response was amusing, because he?d smiled. And the only thing I could think was, ?damn?. I?d thought he was attractive before, but that smile put it way over the edge, into unfair advantage territory.
I?m not sure how long the conversation went on, but about halfway through it, I became vaguely aware that he kept giving glances toward the other side of the room. I didn?t know him, so I didn?t give it much of my attention. When he?d ended up giving a full look in that direction, and a nod, I?d turned to look as well.
The recipient was a young woman, blonde, very pretty, and looking less than pleased, though she seemed to be trying to look nonchalant. I guess because I noticed that it meant she wasn?t doing the most bang-up job.
?Is that a friend of yours?? I?d asked. If I was keeping him from something I could afford to give him an out.
?I was helping her out with a few things,? was his reply, carefully vague, pleasantly neutral.
?Oh.? It wasn?t my place to inquire further. The ?just a friend? spiel was totally played out, but if that?s the explanation he had, no judgment.
?Do you want to get out of here?? he asked, surprising me quite a bit.
I finished my beer before replying, with the only response I could think of, which was ?yes?. Then, for some reason, I don?t know why, I held my hand out to him. I don?t know what possessed me- the second I did it I regretted it. Especially when he just looked at it. But then he took it, and I followed him from the building. It was dark, chilly and the rain was a miserable drizzle. But, somehow, I didn't mind. It might have had something to do with that large hand engulfing mine. Then again, maybe I just like the rain.