“Oh.” I cracked open the door, and he shimmied inside, brightening the gray room and black shelves with his polka-dot shirt and presence.
“Sure is cozy in here,” he said.
I nodded, shutting the door so we had a bit more privacy.
“What’s up?” he asked, bracing his feet on either side of me and propping his back against the wall.
“Nothing.” Nothing worth repeating. I looked down and scuffed my Converse on the tile.
He tilted my cap the tiniest bit up. “Then, why are you hiding?”
“I don’t know,” I huffed. “It’s weird, you’re talking about me, but not talking about me. And now Ash is judging me.”
“Ash judges everybody.” He rolled his eyes and thudded the back of his head on the wall.
“Doesn’t it bother you?”
He laughed incredulously. “She said worse about Janice for almost a year. Hell, you met my ex twice before you decided she wasn’t good enough for me.”
“She wasn’t,” I snapped.
He strained his lips in a knowing, closed-lipped smile. “You and Ash’d make a great pot and kettle set, as the saying goes.”
What the hell did that mean? My heart hammered against my sternum. “Are you saying we were rude about Janice, or that she’s right about me?”
“I’m saying I’ve learned to let things like that roll off my back. I used to ask her advice about women, and about Janice, so she’s used to giving her input.” He nudged my foot. “It doesn’t change how I feel about anybody.”
Right. He still loved Janice, in his own way. At least enough to invite her to Thanksgiving. But he’d also invited me.
I sighed and tugged my cap. “I know I’m not the most demonstrable with my feelings–”
“Really?” He sniggered.
“What?” I frowned.
“You backhand helicopters, hide among the shelving, and only smile with teeth when you genuinely like something. You’re notthathard to read.”
I wasn’t? My lips parted, the air tingling with static from stale, recycled heat and his proximity.
Those cute fucking dimples could tear down anyone’s defenses.
“What am I thinking now, then?” I asked.
Chips of gold lit his soft, roaming gaze. “Come closer.”
Whether that’s what I was thinking, or that was his request so he could read me, it felt right. Magnetic.
I sidled up to him and burned under his gaze. His lip ticked up, setting my heart aglow. How much of me could he see? Was I bright? Funny? Sweet?
Or maybe that was only how I saw him, and he'd caught a glimpse of my feelings lingering in his reflection. I rubbed my thighs together. He’d bared my soul and enjoyed it. Maybe I could show him more. Or discover more of him.
I gripped the scruff of his collar, closed my eyes, and kissed him.
Sparks set off under my skin. It was soft, tentative, and trembling, at least on my end.
I had to show him I cared. That I could be loving. That I’d try, at least.
He slid his hand under my jacket, brushing the singed fleece to rest in the small of my back.
