Later, when I saw the photo—Miss Annabelle, serene and peaceful—it felt like more than a picture. It was Lexie’s gift; she saw beauty most people miss entirely.
She’s still cautious, but with me, she’s growing more open. Every day, she trusts a little more. However, that damn boundary line is still a wall between us, and the more time we spend together, the blurrier that line gets for me.
I knew I’d fall for her. I just hadn’t expected it to feel quite so intense or happen quite so soon.
Tonight, I have another ‘non-date’ planned. Lexie’s term, not mine, and I hate it. But it’s time with her, so I deal. We’re coming up on three weeks, the halfway point in her stay. Dice thinks my pursuit is like trying to catch stardust in a bottle. He doesn’t understand how deep our connection goes or that it’s already too late for me to stop.
When the day is over, and I’ve locked up the café for the evening, it’s dark and quiet. The stillness heightens the hum ofexcitement as I prepare for her arrival. She’s meeting me here. I flip off the lights, save for the ones in the bakery case, and head to the backroom to grab the safety gear for our outing. I pull on my parka and beanie, returning to the front.
My breath catches in my throat. There she is, peering through the glass, her figure silhouetted by the glow of the streetlights. I open the door, and the crisp night air bites at my skin. Lexie is huddled in her down coat, with a camera around her neck and hands tucked in her pockets. She smiles at me from beneath her fur-trimmed hood, warming me like sunshine. I lock up, and we head out.
Walking toward the lake, I decide to go for it; the worst she can say is no. “Sophia’s birthday is on Sunday. We’re having dinner at Val and Eva’s. Why don’t you come? You can meet Dice.”
“I couldn’t possibly impose.”
“You wouldn’t be. Sophia suggested it.”
“That’s kind of her, but why?”
“Well, for starters, she likes you. But you got extra points for talking some sense into me about her advertising dreams.”
“I didn’t do much,” Lexie says. “You deserve full credit.”
“Trust me, I’ve been pretty intense. But that aside, I really want you to come. It’s a casual thing, and you’ll be welcomed with open arms.”
“Only if you’re sure.”
“I am. One thousand percent,” I say.
“In that case, yes. Thank you.”
She said yes! But I keep my cool. “I’ll send you the details,” I say, holding her elbow and leading us down the snowy bank beneath the dock where I store my rowboat. When we reach it, she visibly recoils.
“There’s no way I’m getting into that.”
“It’s perfectly safe.”
Her hand slips into her pocket, as I’ve seen several times before. This time, I ask, “What’s in your pocket?’
“Oh.” She blinks as if I’d caught her by surprise.
“Didn’t mean to pry or make you uncomfortable.”
“It’s okay. I don’t always realize I’m doing it.” She withdraws an egg-shaped silicone ball and squeezes it in her fist. “It soothes or calms me at certain times—” she pauses, her eyes on me—“like when I’m nervous. And sometimes, it’s just a habit.”
“Can I try it?”
That seems to surprise her, but she hands the ball to me. It’s squishy, and the texture reminds me of the Playdough Sophia used to like as a kid. I squeeze it several times, understanding why she finds it calming. “I never thought of using a stress ball. I crack my knuckles when I’m nervous, usually before a performance.”
“Really?” she says, taking back the ball and stuffing it in her pocket. “You don’t strike me as the nervous type.”
“I think everyone gets nervous about something, and we find whatever helps us cope.”
Lexie stares at me, shaking her head slightly. “You have a way of making people feel better. It’s what I first noticed about you.”
“It wasn’t my irresistible charm?”
“That goes without saying.”
