It's obvious he's had a lot of time to think deeply about this type of thing. Ten years to be precise. I mean, who says things like 'filling tiny spaces in people's lives'?
“What's the point if that's all you are to them then? A space filler.”
“Well, because they're filling in yourempty spaces as well.”
I continue to hold his gaze, refusing to look away, all the while daring him to refute what I just said. The air around us starts to feel heavy, and I'm not sure if it's the words we've said floating between us or just his presence.
He finally severs our stare, looking back at the fire.
“You haven't been in town very long, so let me tell you how things are done around here.” His voice comes out with a little less force than before. “I mind my own business and do my own shit. And everyone else does theirs and leaves me alone.”
“Except they don't leave you alone, do they?”
He knows precisely what I'm talking about. His mouth snaps shut, the muscle in his jaw twitches, and his eyes shift to the side. He doesn't like how they treat him. He tries to act like he doesn't care about any of it, but it affects him more than he lets on.
But those little actions that he does, and the looks in his eyes, speak louder than any words he says. And they're always telling me a different story than his mouth.
My first thought is to say that he can't exactly expect anything different after what he did, but that's not why I'm here. I didn't come here to constantly point out or punish his mistakes. No matter how big they are. I came here to offer friendship.
Plus, I don't really agree with what the people in town have been doing.
And although I didn't do the things they did, I still went on his boat. I went through his personal property, and I also flipped him off in the cameras when he did nothing to me.
I feel bad about that.
We fall into silence again, each of us watching the fire blazing in front of us.
Occasionally, I steal glances of him, trailing my eyes over his features. If it weren't for the unfortunate circumstances, he'd have women falling all over themselves just to talk to him. I imagine they'd want to trail their fingers along his jaw and run their hands through his hair, all while staring into those beautiful ocean-colored eyes of his. When he catches me looking at him, he immediately looks away again.
“You can have that wine back, by the way. It tasted like shit.”
I can't help it, I laugh. Why that's funny, I'm not entirely sure, but it is.
“What about the bread and the cheese?” I ask while trying to hide my smile.
He rubs at the back of his neck like I've seen him do before. “I ate it.”
The fact that he looks simultaneously pleased with the food I brought for him, and pissed off that he enjoyed it; brings me another wave of happiness and satisfaction. He's trying so hard to be an asshole right now, but I just find it amusing.
As much as he's tried to make this whole evening an unenjoyable experience for me, I've actually liked being here by the fire with him, and I have a feeling that after the first few minutes, he's actually enjoyed it, as well.
Not once have I felt threatened by him, which further confirms the thought that he's a changed man and deserves someone to be nice to him.
I also appreciate the fact that he doesn't act all nice and polite just for the sake of it. After all the fake pretenses I've dealt with throughout my life, it's a welcome change.
I don't stay too much longer because I have work in the morning. But I also have a feeling that smaller doses work better for him when it comes to people.
Standing up, I dust the sand off my pants and give him one final look.
“Thanks for the company. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Jacob.”
He glances up from the fire and grunts. I'll take it. It's an improvement from completely ignoring me.
CHAPTER 9
Jacob
As I store away the fifth and last catch of the day, I'm feeling pretty pleased about how successful the day of fishing turned out to be. One of those fish will be my dinner for tonight. My mouth waters at the thought of cooking it over the fire like I've done a few times in the past.