“Monday,” he approves with a nod.
Holding the bag of empanadas, I unlock my car and tug at the handle. It takes me a couple of tries before it opens, and I grimace. He’sfrowning disapprovingly when I embarrassedly glimpse at him. “You need a better car.”
“It’s a great car,” I counter as I sit down.
“It isn’t. It’s an antique that belongs in a museum.”
“Let’s call it a collectible, then.”
I shut the door before he can answer and offer him a smile and a wave. He shakes his head, looking up to the sky, and I start the engine. We exchange one last wave before I’m on my way.
In the rearview mirror, I see that he stays right there, standing with his hands in his pockets the whole time, waiting for me to disappear at the end of the street. The entire drive home, I can barely shake my incredulous grin.
The day began with gloomy thoughts of leaving this city and starting another job so I’d never see Lex again. And now… Now I can’t wait for Monday, so I can see his stupidly gorgeous face and exchange stolen glances with him.
The whiplash is enough to make my head spin, but the underlying reminder of all that pain keeps me grounded. Yes, I hope we can make something work, but I can’t let that desire take over everything else. We had our issues then, and new ones have arisen with the mess of our breakup.
I won’t be as quick to give him my entire person this time. Or at least, I’ll try not to. But Lex has always been my kryptonite, so only time will tell.
There’s only so much a girl can take before she gives in and begs for some toe-curling, knee-shaking, and sheet-grippingslex.
Chapter 08
We’re texting again, and every time my phone dings with a notification, my heart flutters.
It was awkward and clumsy at first, which makes sense. It’ll take a while to return to normal. The first few texts felt forced, but we didn’t give up. Then, she watchedBack to the Futurewith her roommate, so she asked if I’ve ever seen it. Because I have, the conversation flowed from there.
The topic drifted from the movie to time travel, loopholes, and theories. We talked about the various schools of thought regarding temporal paradoxes, disrupting the timeline, changing the past, thus altering the future, and preventing the need to travel in the first place. The conversation was nerdy and enthralling, especially with a mind like hers. We were still talking about it by the time I went to bed.
On Sunday, she asked what other classics of cinema I’ve seen, so I did my best to give her an exhaustive list. She expected some of them but was surprised by others. Maybe I’m not such a lost cause after all, she said.
And now, it’s Monday, and I’ll see her again. For the first time sincethatday, I don’t enter the building with dread balling in my gut. I’m full of excitement instead of regret and self-loathing. On my way to my office, I decide to head to the breakroom. I’ll pour myself a steaming cup of black coffee, then step into the Troll’s Lair for a glimpse at her—a pick-me-up far more effective than caffeine.
It turns out I won’t need to because when I enter the breakroom, I’m greeted by a familiar silhouette and a head full of brown curls. I have to contain my excitement as I approach, eyes locked on her while she pours boiling water into her ugly dolphin mug.
“Good morning,” I greet once I’m beside her.
She freezes with the kettle midair, and she doesn’t turn to gaze up at me, but the corner of her lips lifts.
“Good morning,” she returns.
“How was your weekend?” Small talk isn’t my thing, but this isn’t small talk, is it? Never with her.
“It was … eventful.”
“Really?”
“Mhm. I met my ex’s sister.”
“You did?”
“Yes. Then I had lunch with my ex.”
“That does sound eventful.”
“It really was,” she retorts, picking up her mug and sending me a playful side look. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must get to my desk before my boss thinks I’m slacking off.”
I’m confident that, had someone been in here with us, they would have realized something’s going on between us. The way my eyes linger on her as she walks away would have betrayed us. How could I not stare when she’s wearing those skin-tight jeans?
