What if she finds out I thought she was a potential stalker? Except, I’m more the stalker at this point. I’ve invited myself to her house every night this week. And I kissed her first.
I really like kissing her. I like everything about her.
What if she finds out I thought her mom was overbearing?
Okay, I still think that. But she’s also a really nice lady who is good at yard work and loves her daughter. I’m a judgmental idiot.
I’m the luckiest man alive. I can’t wait to see her again.
What if she changed her mind? What if she hates me?
I got out of bed and showered, knowing at some point, regardless of whether I happened to be in the panic or excitement camp, I’d be going over there. My dental office paperwork was still sitting on the coffee table in her living room.
There was a text message from Melissa when I grabbed my phone off the bed after my shower.
Melissa: Good morning. Or are you back to being afraid of me?
I grinned. This girl knew me way too well. And ironically, just her asking calmed a lot of my fears.
Connor: When can I see you?
Melissa: Give me thirty minutes to not look like a swamp thing.
She could never look like swamp anything, although I had a feeling she put a lot of work into taming those curls every morning. It was almost enough inducement to go over early and find out if I was right. But as a non-stalker, I’d respect her wishes.
Connor: See you in thirty.
I dropped my phone, dressed, brushed my teeth twice, tamed my own hair which had some serious bedhead, and gulped down a small bowl of cereal and milk while my legs fidgeted. Then I brushed my teeth again. Yeah, you could say I was looking forward to seeing her again.
Rob had already left for a yoga retreat in Sedona, so I didn’t worry about him catching on to my whereabouts. He was so used to me being gone all the time he hadn’t questioned all the nights I’d disappeared this week over to Melissa’s place.
I turned on the sprinklers on my way over, adjusting their location so we wouldn’t get any boggy spots. It all looked like organized mud right now, but in a few weeks, we’d have a real yard. I could even wave to the neighbors without guilt.
Melissa opened her door and sidled up next to me on the porch, letting our arms brush. My temperature spiked in response, enough to make me want to douse myself with the sprinkler. When she took my hand and led me inside her place, I thought I might spontaneously combust.
She was in a pair of cut-off jean shorts and an old Brad Paisley concert T-shirt. Before I could grab her up and let her know exactly how long thirty minutes felt like, Buster and Sarge charged between us, eager for a group hug.
I bent down and petted their heads. “Hey, guys. Way to play chaperone this morning. Where were you two last night?”
“Regretting it already?” Melissa asked, crossing her arms as she looked at me.
“Not a bit.” I held her gaze.Not. One. Bit.
“But…” She added.
I sighed. Melissa had this way of digging the truth out of me, even when I couldn’t see it for myself. “But we’re neighbors. And your granny thinks I’m the crud you scrape off the bottom of your shoe.” Her granny also thought Melissa was engaged to her grandson. So did Natalya. Who else was under that impression?
Yeah, I had worries. But Melissa already thought I was a Debby Downer and a Nervous Nellie. I didn’t want to escalate that to a Debbie-Relationship-Destroyer and a Never-Come-Over-Again-Nellie by bringing up too much too soon.
Melissa sank into the couch, and I followed, claiming the spot next to her and lacing my fingers with hers. Best feeling ever. Somewhere, an angel got its wings. I was sure of it. Despite all the reasons to not do this, being with Melissa just felt right.
“I’m ready to talk about Damien.”
“Your fiancé?”
“My ex-fiance. Yeah.”
“You sure?” I squeezed her hand and she squeezed back.
