Her words repeat in my mind, an endless loop sparking my heart. To others, maybe even to her, the talk of the weather could mean nothing. But to me, to me, it was everything.
She stopped her run for me. Forme.She never stops her runs. I would know. I go on every single one with her.
It only slightly upset me that she went without me. And in the dark without my protection. It wasn’t smart of her, even if it was just a neighborhood run. But I’m more frustrated with myself for not waking up to the notification of her front door opening.
But she smiled at me. A blinding, beautiful smile. When she waved, my heart hammered. I thought I might be hallucinating. Then when she spoke to me, talking about the weather, my mouth became dry. I couldn’t respond to her.
I quickly compose myself, so maybe she didn’t sense my hesitation. She didn’t realize I was experiencing heart palpitations with her attention. That I had trouble breathing because of her nearness.
We were so close, I could make out each strand of hair in her bangs. So many that it’d take days to count them all. But that wouldn’t deter me. I’d count them every day if I could.
I make my way to my office to do just that. Or as well as I can from the distance of my security cameras.
I catch her as she’s leaving and pull up her tracking app to follow her to the store. Using the phone I have that mirrorshers, I watch as she checks items off her grocery list. It seems she’ll be baking soon.
I’ve always wondered what her baked goods taste like. She shares them with the Colemans, which fills me with envy. Just once, I’d kill for her to bake me something. Anything. One bite, and I’d soar.
Shaking thoughts of cakes and cookies from my mind, I focus on my screens not displaying her. On the work I need to get done. Or at least try to.
…
The way the sweat beaded on her forehead catching my eye shows me how hard of a run she had. Even glistening in perspiration, she looked irresistible.
Her eyes sparkled in a way that comes from endorphins and hard work. How I wish I could’ve joined her. Sidled up next to her. Maybe even held her hand.
“Uncle Bash, why do you look like that?” Sofia demands from across the table.
I blink back into the present, taking in my surroundings. The cod on my plate has probably gone cold, abandoned to my thoughts.
“Sebastian, is something on your mind?” It’s my mom, this time, breaking through my haze. Shaking my head, I force all thoughts of Lizzy to the back of my mind.
“Sorry. I had an early morning. I’m just tired.” I conjure up a convincing smile, trying to ease her worry, but Mom continues scrutinizing me. The table descends into silence, a rarity in this family. I hate the attention on me.
“But you didn’t eat…” Mom starts, only for Dad to step in.
“Leave the poor boy alone. I’m sure he has a lot on his mind.” Dad raises his hands. “How are my little ones?”
I throw him a grateful smile when the triplets start discussing school. As the first grandchildren of the family,they’ve captured all our hearts. Even stone-cold Dom listens with a grin as they regale their most recent recess experience.
“Well, then Brian said that he wouldn’t play hopscotch,” Sofia recounts.
“No, that was Louis. He said he didn’t like it. Brian said he didn’t like you,” Lucia corrects her sister.
“Brian wasn’t very nice.” Isabel worries her lip. “Boys aren’t very nice.”
“They’re nice when you push them to the ground.” Sofia raises her arm, flexing her nonexistent bicep. Dom laughs, reaches over, and squeezes it, feigning being impressed.
Roman glares at our oldest brother. “Don’t encourage her. We got sent to the principal’s office. I had to leave… erm…workearly to meet with her. She’s on her last warning.”
“If a boy is being mean to her, then she shouldn’t be penalized for standing up for herself,” Dom counters.
“Not all boys are mean,” Lucia chimes in. “Liam isvery nice.”
Collectively, all the men in the family zone in at the tone she uses. The very flirtatious tone she uses.
“Lucia, who is Liam?” her father’s voice probably sounds mildly curious to his young daughter, but I see the way his fists clench.
“Liam wants to be my boyfriend,” Lucia explains.
