“I know I’mfine,” I say, smirking at him. Screw this flustered crap. I got this. I can handle shit. Maybe I can’t swim, but everything else, I canmanage.
Without bothering to turn around and see if I got an ounce of a reaction out of him, I keep my focus on the sandwich I’m still working on, but I hear the chair Liam’s sitting on scratch against the title floors as his shadow covers the counter in front of me. I shouldn’t be afraid to turn around, but I am. I feel his close proximity, and there is no reason for it. None. Unless maybe he’s going to stab me with a butter knife. The thought of that is more likely than any other reason he would have to be standing soclosely.
“Fine?” he whispers in my ear. As unexpected as his voice is, being so close to me, his words make my heart pound in a way it hasn’t beat in a very long time, possibly ever. “I could think of a few different words to describe you, but ‘fine’ would be at the bottom ofthatlist.
I swallow hard before conjuring an appropriate response. “Is that an insult or acompliment?”
The mere fact that I was able to say what I did without losing my breath is impressive, and I kind of want to pat myself ontheback.
“An insult or a compliment ... that’s for you to figure out,” Liam says, squeezing my shoulder firmly before leaving thekitchen.
Okay, what the hell justhappened?
My mind is lost in a freezing haze as I watch Liam walk through the living room and head up the stairwell. I know he made some snappy comment about my Fifty Shades of Grey song choice yesterday, but I thought it was all part of his asshat game. Men don’t really act like this when they like a woman, not grown men. That’s ridiculous. This is ridiculous.It doesn’t matter. He’s gorgeous, which means he’s ano, but he’s more than anobecause I already know he’s an asshole, just like all good-looking men I’ve encountered. Since I already know what he’s like and what I could potentially get involved with, there’s no way I’d even step one footcloser.
Okay, I may be getting a bit ahead of myself here. My thoughts are obviously jumbled, and he’s just screwing with my head. I bet that’s what this is. He wants me to think he finds me attractive just so he can shoot me down and make me feel like an über loser. No way. He can try his hand at me all he wants because I’m stronger than he could ever know ... I hope. No, I am. I’m not letting him get in my pants—my head, I mean. Oh, my God. Wow.Okay, breathe. Finish the sandwich. Do your job. Serve lunch, and then move on to the next activity, which would be... I need that goddamn binder because I’m not asking Liam any morequestions.
I’ll shadow him, but I will not stare at his ugly perfect ass, and we’ll get through the next few days as such. Then I’ll be in the clear. It’s not like I have to work with him every day for the ...Entire. Freaking.Summer.
I’m just going to cry a little while no one is watching. Then I’ll be just fine . . .yes. . .fine.
As if Dylannever left his spot from where he started the day, he’s on the couch with his iPod. I desperately tried to switch it out for a book, but I didn’t want to pick that battle so soon after his tolerance for me suddenly grew. Instead, I’ve been sitting beside him like a prison guard for the last hour, staring at the wall, afraid to rock the boat by saying anything else to him, while avoiding the thoughts threatening to enter the weak parts of my brain. I’m not sure how much longer I can stand playing the reruns of certain moments from the day, but I can’t help reliving them over and over again. Thankfully, Samantha walks through the front door during the tenth time I heard Liam’s voice tickle the inside of my ear with the very last thing he said to me while I was making Dylan’ssandwich.
Since that moment, Liam has made himself scarce. He’s been moving from room to room, cleaning every nook and cranny like he owns this job he’s claimed. I have to admit, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man clean so well, and if I wanted to continue lying to myself, I’d say it isn’t a complete and utter turn on to watch a man dust so diligently—especially when reaching for a ceiling fan, while offering a certain passerby a quick peek at the tan lines where his pants slip a little too low and his shirt rises a little too high. I’m not thinking about it, though, because the thought is inappropriate, and we worktogether.
“How was your first day?” Samantha asks while closing the front door. She looks far more exhausted than she did this morning, or even last night for that matter. She falls against the back side of the door and releases a loud exhale while pulling her running shoes off. “Three hot yoga classes, three Slow Flow, and two private lessons ... I’m about ready to drop,” she says,breathlessly.
“I’ve never tried yoga before, but that sounds like a very tiring day,” I offer. I’ve watched people practice yoga at the gym I used to go to, but I don’t think my body would ever move like that. I’d be the one lying on my back for the entireclass.
“You haven’t tried yoga?” She soundsappalled.
“Never. The sight of it scares meabit.”
“Well, I’ll have to show you it’s not so bad.” She waves the air as if it’s nothing, but I don’t think she quite understands my lack of coordination or the fact that I can’t even walk down a set of stairs without twisting my ankle ... or float in five feet ofwater.
“Sure,” I say, trying to sound upbeataboutit.
“Where’s Liam?”Samanthaasks.
I shrug, truly not knowing. “I’m not sure. He’s been upstairs for a bit.” I haven’t seen him since I walked by Dylan’s room and saw him dusting the ceiling fan. I bet that ceiling fan is super clean,though.
Samantha points at Dylan and mouths the words, “Oh my God,” to me, as if she were shocked to see him content. I get a thumbs-up from her, and I feel sort of proud for a moment. One moment is all I get,though.
“I got bit by a crab today, and Julia almost drowned trying to help me,” Dylan outs me, all without taking his eyes off hisdevice.
Samantha’s big hazel eyes bug out of her face as she takes a couple of steps closer. “Oh my gosh, whathappened?”
“She can’t swim, Mom,” Dylan says, with more than just a hint ofsarcasm.
She places her hands on the side of her face, and they slowly slide down the back of her neck. “You must think I am the worst person in the world,” Samantha says, and I’m completely taken aback by her statement. I was expecting her to think that thought about me, not herself. If Liam weren’t there, I’m sure Sterling would have helped Dylan, but I don’t think he could just leave his class in the water either. Whatever the case, I needed just as much babysitting as Dylan did today. It’s humiliating, to say theleast.
“I would never think that. I feel like a failure after today,” I tell her. I’m being honest. I don’t want to be fired but, geez, I’ve seriouslyscrewedup.
“I should have asked you if you swam, and I know I didn’t warn you about—” She looks over at Dylan and nods her head toward him. With a deep inhale, Samantha walks over to me and takes my arm, pulling me into the kitchen where she pulls a seat out from the table for me. We both sit down, and her head falls to the side. “Dylan has had a rough few years. His dad—my ex-husband—took off three years ago and hasn’t returned since. To make matters worse, it was right after Dylan’s Asperger’s diagnosis, and unfortunately, Dylan was old enough to correlate the two events inhislife.
“I was hoping he’d get over it like children often easily do, but having Asperger’s made it more difficult for Dylan to deal with his dad’s abandonment. The thing is, in most ways, Dylan is a normal kid. He just has some special challenges. He struggles with social skills, he requires structure in his routine, and he gets very upset when things change. It makes him feel out of control. He’s sensitive. It’s who he is and has always been, but right now, he’s angry, and it’s understandable. I purposely didn’t tell you about him because I have lost more applicants than I can count. Nannies experienced in working with kids like Dylan are difficult to find, and they usually have a waiting list for their services. People without experience in disabilities don’t want to take a chance on Dylan, Iguess.”
I listen and watch as Samantha pours her heart out. Learning about Dylan’s dad from Liam today made the confession a little less shocking, but the look on Samantha’s face is crushing. What do you say to someone who’s gone through this? I place my hand on hers. “Samantha, I don’t know what to say, but Dylan is so lucky to have you asamom.”
