You're My Kind Of Wrong

Chapter Four

Elizabeth

I enter the classroom looking for Axton. The organization today was done in pairs and I suspect this is how it will be until the end of the semester. Minutes later, I am sitting by my partner's side already tapering parts of our presentation.

"Hey, what are you doing tonight?" Axton whispers in my ear; his raspy voice coated with interest.

"Um, nothing." I should be working tonight at the radio, but I changed my shift with a co-worker as there was a change in programming.

"Great. Well, as much as I appreciated the cafe we went to last time, I was thinking we could go somewhere quieter, more intimate tonight." I stop taking notes and look up at him; he is staring at me expectantly. "Look, I can cook for us or order some food if that's what you prefer. We could discuss the project and maybe relax for a bit."

"I don't know Axton. I mean, we barely know each other." I really can't concentrate on those eyes fixed on me.

He grins. "That is the idea. Getting to know each other better," he explains with a crooked smile.

"Is this a date? Are you trying to get me into bed, Axton?" I ask half-jokingly.

It might be the lights, but I could swear I see him flush. "It is whatever you want it to be."

When I don't answer, he blurts out raising his hands to convey his innocence "Liz, I don't have many friends here yet, and I really enjoy talking to you, so I thought dinner would be nice. We can be friends," he says the last sentence like a question. Also, he sounds really sincere, so I agree with the whole thing.

He takes my phone from my hands and saves his number on it, then calls his so he has mine as well. "I'll text you my address. Is seven ok?" I nod.

When he leaves the room, he leaves triumphant.

"What happened to him?" I turn and see Poppy.

"We are having dinner tonight," I confess and she raises one eyebrow at me waiting for the rest of the story, but before I get the chance to speak, her eyes wander to something behind me.

"Oh, don't look now but someone's staring at you, Liz." I look around expecting to see Axton when I see Olly. Oh, I had almost forgotten he's back.

"Who is staring at you?" I look to the left to see Axton with his arms crossed leaning against a threshold. I thought he had left, guess not.

"No one." I say at the same time Poppy says "Oliver". Shit.

"And who the fuck is Oliver?" he demands.

I don't dare to answer but Poppy leaps in. "He is Liz's last affair. Everything was going great between the two of them, and then his father got transferred to Spain or something."

I roll my eyes. "Portugal, Poppy."

Axton shoots an almost angry look at Olly and then looks back at me. "Are we still on for tonight?"

I don't understand his question. "Yes, of course." Why wouldn't we be?

He seems to be letting go of a breath he was holding for too long. "Do you need a ride to my place? Do you have a car?"

I shake my head. "No, it's fine. Really. There are town cars and taxis in case my driver is not available, or I don't feel like driving. Thanks, I will see you at seven." I reassure him.

"See you at seven." He turns around and walks away but not before winking at me. His gaze is so warm I almost melt.

Poppy rests a hand on my shoulder. "Damn girl, he is intense," she states, causing me to laugh.

"I think he got a bit jealous there," she says. I wave one hand in dismissal. She is definitely reading too much into this.

__________

Back home, Popps and I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling. She's been my best girl ever since high school when we started dating jock best friends at a boarding school upstate. We became best friends instantly as well, it just came naturally to us.

Lately, my poor friend has been extra miserable about the whole Josh ordeal. I still remember the day she called me crying her eyes out because the asshole got into Med school and suddenly decided he was too good for her.

"You know, Josh is going to be there at Daddy's party tomorrow," she says while dangling both feet off the bed.

"He wouldn't dare," I say incredulously.

"Oh, he would. He sent me a text yesterday saying that his parents and mine are great friends and therefore, he would like to come; then, asked if I was ok with that. I said that I am very much ok with that."

"You what?" I grab a pillow and throw it in her direction.

"Lil, I am still very much in love with him. I didn't get any type of closure. I need to see him once more to know. To know whether it is better like this, or if we can go back to what we were." Her voice is wobbly.

Looking at her tear-stained face softens me. I always thought that Poppy and Josh were endgame. For a very long time, they were my reference when it came to healthy relationships. Not anymore. I weep internally for my friend and the relationship I had put so much faith in.

"It is alright P., you do what you have to do and I'll be there to catch you if you fall." When. She just smiles full of gratitude burying her head in the pillows, and I let her sleep.

_________

At seven sharp, I press the doorbell to apartment 312. His building, a very expensive looking one in Upper East Side Manhattan, was hard to miss with its eggshell color, green roof and golden accents all throughout the facade. When he opens the door, I gasp. He looks splendid straight out of the shower, wearing a white long-sleeved tee, black belt, black jeans, and sneakers. He opens the way inviting me in, and for a moment I am completely frozen.

"Welcome Elizabeth. Right on time. Did you find it easily enough?" is his greeting that comes with a naughty smirk.

"Erm... hi. Yes, yes, your building is"--I play with a lock of hair--"quite distinguishable."

"Good. Come in." I do as instructed.

As soon as I enter, I see. The apartment is flawless. The dark cement walls are colored with all sorts of paintings, while the furniture dates from different times and eras. The tapestry looks like it came from Morocco and there is an immense bookshelf filled with books of all kinds. This is not what I had expected at all of a bachelor-student pad. Clearly, I never seem to know what to expect from Axton. I look down and immediately regret my sartorial choices.

When getting ready, I was afraid of overdressing so I opted for what I thought to be the safest choice: dark skinny jeans, an oversized T-shirt, ballet shoes and many accessories. Since the weather has been chilly for the last past few days, I finished the look with a long red coat. It is not that I am underdressed, but things hardly seem fair when everything he puts on makes him look like a model straight out of a damn GQ magazine.

"Is there something you want to say?" He observes me.

Oh yes, but so many I can't or shouldn't. "Your apartment is incredible."

"And not what you expected." He finishes for me.

"Well, let's say that it is not what I usually see from men our age."

"I'll take that as a compliment. Especially coming from you." He shakes his head, sending a stray lock of hair backwards and then it stubbornly falls again on his face. This man is gorgeous.

"I am not sure I follow." I blink.

"Oh, I see you walking around well-dressed with your designer bags and shoes. You are always impeccable," he says with a straight face.

Is he joking? "I don't know what to say. Are you complimenting me or my taste?" I test him.

"Come, let me show you around," he says extending a hand. I take the offer and a jolt of electricity sweeps me off my feet.