At least it would’ve been if my pillow didn’t still smell like pine trees and if I could get the image of him lying next to me out of my head.
Somehow, I did get my half of the work done, and by the time Friday night rolled around, I was sweating and shaky. I found myself fluffing my couch pillows while I waited for him to arrive.
Fluffing pillows.
Who the hell cared about a pillow’s fluff factor?
Finally—mercifully—there was a knock at the door, and I scuttled over to answer it.
He could’ve at least had the courtesy not to look hot. But no. He had that hardworking, jeans-fit-just-right, wide-and-capable thing going on just standing outside my front door.
I was in trouble.
“Uh, hey. Come on in,” I said. “This could take a while. Might as well get started.”
He nodded, and stepped through the door with a bag of stuff in one hand.
“How’s your back?”
“Your heating pad did the trick, and I’ve been trying to take it easy. It’s okay today. I went out to that cut block, and got some pictures.”
“Great,” I said, but the fact he went without me hit me hard. I shifted my weight, feeling awkward in my own space. We had a lot to do, and this was literally what I did for a living.
His presence altered everything.
I shook myself out of my stupor, reminding myself of the task at hand and how things had ended after we’d woken up next to each other earlier this week. “Alright, let’s get to work then.”
We spread out the information and pictures we had on my coffee table and started organizing them, before falling into the task easily enough, deciding what to display and where. We would have to put all the information up on the board tomorrow morning before the event started, but that would be easy if we planned well enough.
Time passed in relative silence, just the rustle of paper and a few short conversations. Even so, I was hyperaware of him. He took up more space in the room than just physical.
I could just keep my mouth shut. I could print information and organize, and forget that the little time I’d had with Brody had felt like we clicked in a way I’d never clicked with anyone else before.
Not love at first sight. But something, or the promise of something. Unless I was the only one feeling it.
I cleared my throat. “What did you get up to after you dropped me off at the library?”
He looked up from where he was folding pamphlets and shrugged. “Nothing really.”
I absorbed this. “So why didn’t you stay then? When I asked you to, I mean.”
He set the papers aside. “I wanted to, I just thought why you asked, and why I wanted to stay may have been two different things.”
I cocked my head. “What do you mean?”
He smoothed his hair back. Like always, it was pulled back in a tight braid.
“You probably invited me thinking you were being polite, and I had some less than polite ideas of what we’d do if I stayed.”
Chapter Seven
Brody
Iwatched as Rachel absorbed my words. My very clunky admission that I wanted her.
How could she think I didn’t?
She was on the other side of the coffee table from me in her living room. The light was low. The room smelled homey, like vanilla and homemade bread. She was seated cross-legged on the floor in comfortable-looking leggings and a t-shirt. I was on the couch thanks to my stupid back.
