Castles

Chapter 17

I didn't know what to expect when I opened the door to Sheppard, especially since it wasn't my idea to invite him to my apartment.

But I welcomed him in any way. "Hey."

"Hey." He said back. He handed over a bottle of liquor.

I looked it over. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

He shook his head, and grinned at me. "No. I made it." He spun the bottle around in my hand to show the label. I admired the video game controller. "We branded our own vodka for the game lounge. And that's the first bottle."

I smiled, looking up at him. "This is the first bottle?" It was sweet of him to bring me something he was so proud of.

I took it over to the kitchen counter and set it down. Now I was trying to decide how to tell him I really didn't want him over.

Max was on my bed sleeping the rest of his hangover off and there was no better time than now.

"Max wasn't telling you the truth," I started. I went to the fridge. "Did you want something to drink?"

Sheppard shook his head more interested in what I had to say next than any drink I was offering.

"Max is an idiot. I wasn't waiting," I told him.

"Waiting for what?"

"You." I took out an old pitcher of Kool-Aid and put it in the sink to wash later. "Honestly, I was going to see how long it took for you to call me."

Sheppard followed me to my living room. "No. I get it. And what little I know about you I figured your brother was full of shit. But I came anyways."

I looked at him. "So you knew my brother was lying, but you took the chance anyway?"

He nodded. "That's what I'm saying."

I'd had a few boyfriends. Nobody ever took much of a chance on me. They chanced venturing over for sex in the middle of night. Or showing up for the holiday in case sex was the gift. That was about how much substance they had.

"Is that so hard to believe?" He asked.

"Yes. It is." I admitted.

"Why?" He sat down on the arm of my chair. "Why can't you believe I would want to know you better?"

I looked down at my hands. "Because you're... you."

He laughed. "And you're you."

I looked up at him, he was dead serious. "Let's go to lunch. Anywhere you want."

"I'd much rather prefer you take me someplace you like," I said. I didn't like the pressure of picking. I was easily pleased. He might not have been.

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Fine. We will play it your way for now." He pushed off the chair standing up. "By the way you look nice."

My cheeks warmed. "Thank you."

***

Riding in Sheppard's car this time was nicer. There was no puking, or obnoxious brother in the back seat. It smelled like cologne and not alcohol and puke. And I wasn't fearful that all of my secrets would spill.

"I didn't think you would like Nirvana," I told him.

"What did you think I would like?"

I bit my lip thinking about it. "Classic rock maybe."

"Technically Bush is old nowadays." He joked. "What about you, what do you like?"

"Pretty much everything." The louder and more meaningful the better was the way I saw it. "If I can dance, cry or scream to it I'll listen to it."