Lyra Kennedy joins the cast of Dating Democracy, a reality show where she's paired with the handsome Andrew - but she has eyes for bad boy Patrick.
*****
Lyra Kennedy lost her job...
I could see that I was getting through to him on some level, that I was making sense, despite neither of us wanting me to. He sighed deeply.
"I know," he said. "Shit, I know. But, God..." he trailed off and looked down at the floor in defeat. "I really wanted to. I thought..."
I smiled sadly and nodded. "I know. Me too."
My words dropped into the silence that was now quickly forming and echoed with a sort of finality. He leaned down to pick up his discarded shirt, and I turned toward the window on the other side of the room so that I wouldn't have to watch him go. I was a little afraid that if I did, I would just call him back and we'd start all over again. I heard his soft footsteps pad across the room, away from me.
"Lyra," he called, faintly. I turned, crossing my arms, and looked over at him in the doorway.
"Patrick."
His eyes were brighter, clearer, and for a second, I thought he was going to say something that would change my life forever. But the moment passed, as quietly as it had come, and left nothing but the crickets chirping contentedly outside. I blinked at him, and he scratched the back of his neck and shook his head.
"Nevermind."
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"Sorry, what?"
"I asked if you wanted cream and sugar?"
"Oh. No, sorry, black is fine, thanks," I replied. The barista handed me my steaming cup of coffee over the counter, and I took it gratefully and turned back towards where Andrew was waiting for me by the door.
He smiled down at me.
"Ready to go?"
I smiled back and nodded. He held open the door for me and we headed out into the already-scalding heat of the California morning. It was autumn, now, and though the trees were turning their usual beautiful array of colors, I found myself aching for the cool, brisk weather that I was accustomed to calling 'fall.' Instead, all I got here was 80 degrees instead of 100.
We soon fell into a companionable silence as we walked down the street side-by-side. I was trying as hard as I could to think about anything but what I had done last week, about Patrick's hands on my body, about how close we had come to...
"You alright, Lily?" Andrew's teasing voice brought me out of my daydreams.
"Huh?"
He gestured to the cup in my hand, which I brought up to eye level. I looked at the name written in Sharpie on it. Typical. They ever managed to get it right.
"Ugh," I said. "They literally never get it right. I don't understand what's so hard. I even spelled it out for them this time!"
He laughed and shook his head down at me. "I guess that comes with the whole unique name business."
