My heart stills in my chest. Goosebumps lift in a wave over my arms and neck.
Calder drops his head, then turns to his car. “Goodnight, Alecia.”
I watch him go, my feet planted in the asphalt. For the first time in my life, I’m stunned speechless.
When he’s halfway to his car, I finally convince my body to move. I turn and walk to my car in a daze. I’m so worried I’m going to forget this moment that I want to drive to a tattoo shop and get those two words permanently inscribed on my body.
And why are we walking away from each other right now? Why didn’t I grab him and kiss the hell out of his face? Missed opportunity and then some.
I throw my bag in the back seat of my car, then spin when I hear footsteps. I barely have time to process that it’s Calder before he’s pressing me up against the car, his body flush against mine, his hand tugging on my ponytail to tip my head back.
“If it’s okay, I changed my mind.”
seventeen
I nod.
Calder’s lips crash over mine, and I steal his breath. My hands sneak up the back of his shirt, drawing him closer. The metal of the car is cool against my back, his palm warm where it anchors me. His mouth moves like he already knows what I’ll taste like. Like this isn’t moving forward, but catching up.
I’m dizzy and delirious, wondering how I can pull his tall frame through the door of my car and stretch out with him in the back seat. I want him everywhere. His hands, his weight.
And then Calder pulls back. I press forward, trying to keep him there, and he grins. He presses his hands on my shoulders until I’m steady, then tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
He clears his throat and runs his thumb over his lower lip. “Goodnight.”
“Mmhmm.” It’s all I can manage. Again with the missed opportunities.
Calder
No rabbit fever?
Alecia
Free and clear. My soap method worked
Good morning
Good morning. Did I tell you how you show up in my phone?
I don’t think I want to know
Frederick Calder the Third
So much better than I was thinking
Are you a “third?”
Sadly not even a second
It makes sense when you think about it
Let us all hope that the genetic mental slide culminating in this naming disaster ends with me
I grin into the rim of my mug and send him a photo of the window light slanting across my desk, the way it turns my stack of paper swatches into something jewel-like. It’s random and pointless, but it’s pretty and I think he might like it.
I’m at my desk early for once, hair in a low ponytail since I didn’t have time to wash it after all the shenanigans last night, a soft sweater over a pair of loose jeans. I work my way through my inbox, but it’s slow going since I keep getting distracted.
Calder
