Love Has a Color

Make-out Take-out

Lying on my little hotel mattress, I reach down and rub my aching feet. Just a little reminder of the horrible dinner I fled about a half hour ago. I had to walk around for what felt like days, in high freaking heels looking like an idiot. Finally, some fancy looking lady offered to pay for my taxi because "girls gotta stick together in this part of town." I didn't care why she did it or what she said, I was just grateful to get off my feet and get into a car with someone who knew where they were going.

All in all, I'm glad I said what I did. I'm afraid Asher won't feel the same. I've been waiting impatiently for him to show up, every little sound I hear outside the door making me jolt upwards in anticipation for his arrival. What am I going to say to him though? I probably just ruined everything. Who in their right mind would want to date the girl who embarrassed and back-sassed their father in the middle of a crowded restaurant?  I sure wouldn't. Actually, that's a lie. I would date the hell out of a girl who had the guts to stand up for my brother like that, regardless of the outcome. I can't speak for Asher, though. Look at me, speaking as if I had a chance with him in the first place.

I don't know, maybe at one point I did. I mean, come on, you can't deny that the man is giving me mixed signals. I may be hopelessly hung up on someone who has never clearly expressed feelings for me, but I'm not crazy. One day we wake up half naked in bed together, the next he's ignoring me, then he's asking me to lunch, then he acts like we're old friends and tells me all about his weekend or what he likes for breakfast. Hot, cold, luke-warm, up, down, left, right, good God pick something, dude! Obviously I'm over here fawning over you, so please, tell me if you do, don't, will, or ever have had romantic feelings for me.

I eventually decide that making myself crazy over all of this is useless, and end up ignoring that intelligent conclusion just to end up back at the beginning. I feel awful about what happened at dinner, and I feel awful about running out. I also feel exceptionally awful about Asher not running out after me. But, I'm also glad he didn't. I wouldn't have known what to say to him, and I like to postpone things I'm dreading as long as humanly possible. It may be a bad trait, but I'm definitely a reactive and not proactive person.

My jumble of thoughts ends up making me think about my father again. Then, I start wondering what he would have thought about Ashton. Or, in this case, Sawyer. I find myself on the phone dialing a number, taking a minute to fully soak in the fact that the voice I'd just subconsciously called is speaking already.

"Hello?" A gruff voice questions.

"Hey, Sawyer."

"Is everything okay, Scar?"

"Yeah, everything's good. I was just thinking about you, and wanted to talk." Okay, that's only partially a lie.

"I get the feeling that's not totally true," he accuses.

Damn. "Okay, it's sort of true. I was thinking about you, and I do want to talk. But, I wouldn't exactly say everything's okay."

"What's up? Lay it on me!"

I take a deep breath, and launch into the story. "So, basically I've been sitting alone in the hotel now just replaying every insult in my mind."

"He really had to bring dad into it? I mean, yeah I know we didn't always get along. I didn't exactly make things easy on him. But, he didn't care. He just took all my shit and stuck right by my side, even if I was a total asshole and tried to push him away. I think it really shows what kind of person you are, sticking up for Asher's brother like that, and I am so proud to call you my sister. And, if I know anything, it's that dad would be anything but disappointed in you right now. He loved you so much, Scarlett."