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“Brielle and I have other plans,” Sylar announces, causing me to sit up straighter in surprise.
We do?
“I’ll meet you back at yours then?” Christina asks me, waiting for me to give her my eyes. When I do, she searches them, as if making sure I’m all right.
“Yeah, sounds good.”
“Call me if you need anything,” she says, “anything” implying anything from a condom to a shovel.
“Noted.”
The two of them leave, chatting like they’ve known each other for years, and I wonder how come it’s so easy for some people. It’s never that easy for me. Snoop jumps out of my arms and goes over to Sylar, who picks him up and gives him a pat.
“Weird looking dog,” he says, but his eyes are gentle.
“Hey,” I say playfully. “Watch what you say about my dog.”
He grins, and an almost boyish look appears on his face. “I always wanted a German Shepherd.”
“Why didn’t you get one?” I ask.
His expression suddenly shutters. “I wasn’t allowed any pets as a kid, and afterwards… I travelled a lot. It wouldn’t be fair on the dog.”
“What about right now then?” I ask him, tilting my head and studying him. “You are planning on staying here for a while, aren’t you?”
He nods slowly, which gives me the impression he isn’t really sure. Maybe he doesn’t want to get close to anyone because he doesn’t know if he’s staying, or maybe he just doesn’t want to get close to me.
Maybe I’m not even his type.
That’s quite a sobering thought. If anything, we could be friends. I think I’d like that, to have him in my life in some way, any way I can take him. I can’t explain it, but I just get the feeling that we’re meant to know each other. And in a way that most people don’t. I’m not a spiritual person, so this isn’t something I’ve ever experienced before. I don’t believe in fate. I believe that you make your own way, and it’s your decisions that decide where and how you end up; however, something in me is telling me I need to be near him.
I’m not going to question it.
“Are you close with your brother?” I find myself asking, absorbing any information about him I can get.
“Spencer, yes,” he says, putting Snoop down. “I have another brother, too. I’m not so close with him.”
“Why?” I ask, wondering if he will answer. When he doesn’t, I ask a question of my own. “What’s his name?”
“Sebastian. He’s a doctor,” he says, no emotion in his tone. “Now, what did you say you wanted me to do? Right, ask you out. So, Brielle, would you like to go on a date with me? Maybe we could go to the beach or something. I don’t know. What do you usually do on dates?”
I squirm a little as he watches me with those intense pale blues. “I don’t know, maybe grab a drink or something, I guess. I haven’t been on a date in a pretty long time.”
I notice that he changed the subject away from his brother, and I let him. If he doesn’t want to talk about something, he doesn’t have to. It’s curious that you can be so close to one sibling and not to another. And a doctor? That’s quite impressive.
“Why?” he asks, looking genuinely confused. “Do the men here have bad taste?”
“Something like that,” I say, smiling warmly at him for the compliment. “A walk on the beach sounds perfect, Sylar. Can we stop at my house and drop Snoop off? I think he’s had enough exercise for one day.”
“I think he needs more,” Sylar says, smirking, but then adds, “Yes, of course we can do that.”
I all but bullied him into spending time with me, and I just hope it’s what he wants, and that he isn’t doing it just because he’s a nice guy, even though he keeps telling me he isn’t. When I think back to the first few times I saw him in the café, I guess I wouldn’t have thought of him as a nice guy either. He was quiet, and not very polite, but he was never rude. He just kept to himself, which isn’t a crime. Some people like to be invisible. What I want to know is why Sylar likes it.
“He’s meant to be a little chubby,” I huff, picking him up and following Sylar to the front yard, where his black truck is. He opens the door for me, which I find charming, then waits for me and Snoop to climb in before shutting it. Sad, but I can’t remember the last time a man did that for me. “Alarm” by Anne-Marie plays on the radio as I tell him which house is mine. I love this song. He stops and waits while I drop Snoop off inside, then return to his truck.
“You have a nice house,” he tells me as he gets back onto the road. “You said you were renovating it?”
“Yes.” I nod. “I like that you remember that.”
