I can't afford to form relationships because those relationships only create problems.
People want to know more, dig even deeper, and when they find out that I'm running from a nightmare, a man with soulless eyes that probably doesn't really exist, well, that's when they'll leave anyway.
Paranoid freaks who live in fear, who have no idea how to be a friend to anyone other than their dog don't attract the right kind of people. And if by some miracle I did? Well, then they'd just become someone who'd try to convince me to stay, tell me that I was safe and nothing would happen to me. They'd spin lies, lies they didn't even know they were telling while they wrapped me in a false sense of comfort that let me drop my guard.
And when that happens, that's whenhecomes.
"Alaska was awesome," I say after a beat. "Beautiful. So beautiful, but frigid."
"How long were you there?"
"About a month."
"Why'd you leave?"
I shrug and finish peeling the label off my bottle. "It was just time. I never stay in one place much longer than that."
Posey nods as she finishes her beer. "Can I ask why?"
Another shrug.
It would totally kill the vibe to say something along the lines of,I'm totally insane so I keep running from a man in my nightmares that terrifies me. I don't know what he looks like or who he is, I just know that he has no soul and has me killed over and over in various ways and locations —just before my birthday too, apparently—when I dream of him.
Yeah, that is such a downer.
"Well..." she says with a smile that does not match my inner turmoil. "Maybe Ashland will be different."
Travis, the bartender I'll apparently be working with, sets down another beer in front of me with a wink and I can feel those hives again.
"How old are you, Gypsy?"
I slowly peel my eyeballs off of Travis's nice backside and turn. "I'll be twenty-seven next month."
Posey nods. "I had a feeling it was something like that. If I went by your looks though, I wouldn't have been sure you were even legally able to work here."
"I get that a lot. I'd imagine people would take me for a twelve-year-old boy if I chopped my hair off and quit wearing my jewelry."
"Shut up!" Posey laughs. "You are unmistakably feminine with that tight little body and those gorgeous features." Then she nods toward the other end of the bar. "Travis obviously appreciates your appearance."
He's staring, but that means nothing.
People stare at me all the time and not for the same reason Posey thinks.
But then Travis winks again and lifts his brows with a nod.
Oh boy.
"He's what, twenty-one or twenty-two? It's practically ingrained in boys that age to flirt at anything with a vagina." I slap my hands over my mouth but Posey just laughs loud and hard.
"Oh, I think we are going to get along just fine." She snorts. "And he's twenty-three, but you might want to steer clear of Travis anyway. Nice guy, but he's been banging Joyce and possibly Brie for a while now, and unless you're into a one night stand, he's really not the guy to go after."
Try no night stand.
Part of my lifestyle, the nomadic hermit who has no kind of attachment, means I've also never had a boyfriend or a one night stand.
Yep.
Twenty-seven-year old virgin.
