Compromise

You Again

    I hurry home, realizing it's 7:15 and Sawyer will be at my apartment in less than an hour. I live in a homey 1 bedroom apartment adjacent to the vast, crashing ocean, which happens to be the only similarity between my hometown and Los Angeles. When I arrive home, I struggle with my two full bags of groceries. One bag stumbles out of the open car door and the other flails in my hands. Typical. My neighbors lights slowly begin to dim, still allowing some light to escape through his window. I can barely see him as he lifts his shirt from off his shoulders, revealing his tan skin. I watch as the steaming water from his shower trickles down his soft abs. I believe his name is Ryder? Reggie maybe? Not sure. All I know is I'm glad I moved into this apartment complex, and that I'll be sure to get a curtain for the window in my bathroom.
    After wrestling with my groceries, I finally manage to unlock my door and bring them inside. I toss the bags on the counter and run into my bedroom. My alarm clock says it's 7:30. Great. 30 minutes to shower and second guess my outfits? Gotta hurry.
    I quickly undress and hop in the shower, which only reminds me of what's going on parallel to me in my neighbors shower. No time. I dry off and let my hair soak in the towel while skimming through my closet, weighing out all my options for tonight's dinner.
    I still have yet to go shopping, and I packed kind of lightly. Australia's fashion sense isn't very much like LA's, especially the small town that I'm from. Good thing I packed two cute cocktail dresses, knowing I'd be exploring the city, and the men it has to offer. One of the two is a tight, soft blue dress that opens with strings in the back. The other is black and gives way to my curves and boobs. Sawyer isn't one to lust over anyone, so I go for the hot blue dress.
    I let my hair out of the towel and throw on the dress over a laced thong. I begin to blow dry my hair then remember that Sawyer will hopefully want to come to my place after dinner! I scramble around my apartment cleaning up stray underwear, water bottles, anything I can find really. I know he doesn't care, but I want the mood to be right for when we get back and I don't want him to see me as the total mess that I am.
    I check my phone, 7:45, he's almost here. For some reason, I get butterflies. Am I...nervous? While I wait, I whip out the grocery list from just an hour ago, and gaze over the strange man, Drew's, phone number. I consider entering it on my phone, when I hear a knock on the door that startles me. I run over, realizing I forgot to put on shoes! I put the list away and yell, "One moment!" to Sawyer. I scavenge my closet for the most expensive looking pair of shoes, after all it is a classy restaurant. I throw them on then walk confidently towards the door and open it with a smile.
"Hey you!" I say to Sawyer, who is holding a dozen peonies with a mature smirk across his face. He wears a handsome suit of navy blue and a white collared shirt below it. I can't wait to rip that suit off of him tonight. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
"You got me flowers? Wow, they're gorgeous." My face is beaming as he reaches out and hands them to me. "One moment." I say. I run and set up a vase and some water, dipping the peonies in. "I'm glad you didn't get me roses, I'm allergic." I laugh.
    He smiles, "I remember you telling me, that's really odd," he laughs, "Besides, I like the peonies better, beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman. You look stunning in that dress." He looks me in the eye and smiles.
    I return to the door and kiss him on the cheek and gaze into his green eyes with my hand intertwined with his curly brown hair. In that moment I sense a longing in the both of us, but I resist. He takes my hand and we head to the truck.
"I absolutely love your car. A Bronco?" I ask.
"You have good taste." He smiles. "This is my old mans truck from the 70s, I pretty much begged him to hand it down to me."
"That's sweet. Where are your parents now?"
"Dad got sick a few years back, we spent every last dime trying to save him."
"That's horrible." I frown.
"Sometimes money just isn't enough." Sawyer says sorely, "but it happens, stuff happens, people get old, people die. What are you gonna do about it?"
"Exactly. We should take advantage of our youth. It certainly doesn't last forever." We smile at each other, realizing we must cherish our time.
"This thing has a radio right?" I ask.
"Oh yeah, she's not that old." He laughs.
It's hard to see in the dark, so I trace my hand along the dashboard in search of a tuner. I click what I believe to be the on switch. At that, the middle of the song Porcelain by Red Hot Chili Peppers begins to serenade us.
"No way. Is this the station you listen to?" I ask excitedly. "This is one of my favorite songs."
"Me too!" He replies, "It's so soft and sweet-"
"Yet so numbing and pure!" I chime in.
"Yes!", Sawyer agrees, "it sucks no one ever listens to the PM radio in these towns anymore. So much for discovering new, or old, music."
"Right? Now they're all missing out on the Peppers." I laugh. The sound and vibration of the guitar flows through the car into our minds and bodies. The navigation system interrupts the song to say, "you've arrived at your destination."
"That was quick." I say. Before I can exit the truck, Sawyer opens my door and takes my hand, leading me out. He's such a gentlemen, I bet the man from the store was quite the gentlemen as well. I didn't realize it, but what I have with Sawyer could be nice. So why does this stranger keep reoccurring in my mind? There was just something about his demeanor, it was so seductive and he seemed so...so sure of himself.
    The impact of my heels onto the ground allows my thoughts to refocus on the present moment. I look up to a gorgeous patio welcoming Sawyer and I.
"This place is amazing. Maybe we'll see some movie stars." I joke.
"Honestly, the way it looks, that could be possible." He says nervously but with a smile. He directs his gaze below him, towards me as we step into the large restaurant, and secures his arm around my upper back. He's pretty tall, it's cute. You couldn't miss him in a crowd.
"You know I'm paying for half of the dinner, right?" I say looking up at him.
"Yeah...sure." He give a half-toothed smile. He's not going to let me pay.
I look around and see countless beautiful glittering faces, sipping on expensive champagne. We're way out of our leagues here.
The waiter welcomes us at the door as Sawyer informs her, "We have a reservation for 2 under Quinn."
"Of course!" She beams, "right this way Mr. and Mrs. Quinn." I look over to Sawyer, confused.
He smiles down at me and mouths the words, "just wait". I smile at him, as it to say, "What are you up to this time?".
She places us in a fancy and well-cushioned booth in somewhat secluded corner of the restaurant.
"Geez this booth almost feels like a luxurious couch!" I joke to the waitress.
"Oh my gosh I know right! Sometimes when I finish my night shift I'll just cozy up there for a bit. Weird I know." She says, probably regretting saying it. After all, she works at a high end restaurant and probably encounters numerous assholes along the way.
"Not at all! I would do the same." I smile. She appreciates my response and looks over to Sawyer.
"I'm Ruth, I'll be helping you guys today. What can I get for you two newlyweds!!!" I give Sawyer a puzzled look. "We have a whole menu of our champagne offerings. " she continues, "Would you guys like one?"
I'm barely twenty-one, and so is Sawyer. I enrolled as a sophomore, and am old for my grade. We both talked about our drink preferences at the bar on our "first date". Most men don't really listen to things like that, but he remembered my allergy to roses.
"Do you guys have cocktails?" He asks the waitress. He remembers my drink.
"Oh yes," Ruth replies, "a whole array of em." I smile excitedly.
"Uh oh." Sawyer smiles.
"I'll have a Blue Hawaii cocktail please?" I ask, hoping they'll have it.
"Um, awesome choice." She smiles to me. "And for you?" She asks, looking over to Sawyer. As he reviews the champagne menu in search of his drink I look around us, observing the other customers. There's a couple just one table down to our left that are both in their...I'd say forties. They haven't really said a word since they've gotten here. Sad. The man keeps answering calls on his phone and the woman just appears uninterested. I then look to my right, and see him. Drew, again.
Two tables down, sitting with some older lady, who's in her late thirties to say the least. She's very beautiful despite her age and is dressed very well. She almost looks famous, it's odd. But Drew, wow. He's a sight for sore eyes in a place like this, I can tell he's out a place, but is hiding it so well. He probably just cracked a joke, because the woman and waiter uncontrollably begin to laugh. He must sense my eyes on him, because as they laugh, his head turns, confused, and faces me. It's almost as if in slow motion. He is surprised at first, then rests his deep brown eyes and perfectly white teeth into a familiar smile. He's enchanting.