My mom gave me a smile that I suspected wouldn’t reach her eyes if I could see through her shades. But I’d pretend it did.
After downing my glass of lemonade and listening to a quick rundown of small-town gossip, I told my mom I had to get back to work. It was a partial lie. Technically, I’d taken the entire day off because of the appointment this morning, but I had a few projects I wanted to tinker with this afternoon.
When I left the Patio, I had a text from Sully waiting for me.
SAWYER: How was the appointment?
It went well. Do you want to call me after work so I can tell you about it?
SAWYER: What if I brought you dinner and we talked?
I blew a slow breath out between my lips.
When I’d decided to move close to Sully so he could be involved, I hadn’t realized justhowinvolved he’d end up wanting to be. I didn’t expect him to insist on fixing the furnace or watering the flowers or bringing me dinner. And this was only the beginning, too.
Was this just his initial response, an overreaction of sorts? Or was it going to be nine months of me trying not to get caught up in the possibility of Sully and me being…more again.
SAWYER: It’s not a date, Eleanor.
Yeah, I was aware of that. And it was sort of, kind of, the problem.
Dinner with Sully that wasn’t a date.
I wasn’t sure if I’d done that, ever.
SAWYER: It’s just food.
SAWYER: I want to make sure you are eating.
Excuse me, I am a responsible adult who is capable of feeding herself.
SAWYER: Yeah, so what have you eaten today?
Fuck him.
Fine, you can bring me dinner, but I get to pick what it is, and I pick tacos.
There was a place around the corner from Sully’s old apartment that had the best street tacos a girl could ever ask for. Historically, they were the only thing that would make me feel better after hangovers and nights spent puking in college. I wasn’t totally sure if Sully still lived in that area, but it was worth a shot.
SAWYER: Not surprised. Don’t worry, I know your order.
SAWYER: Are you nauseous?
SAWYER: I will pick up some other things that might help, too.
Shit.
Trying to keep things from the one person in the world who knew me better than anyone was going to be pretty challenging, huh?
You don’t need to pick up anything. I’m just leaving the Patio and have to stop by the pharmacy anyway to get medication that the doctor prescribed.
SAWYER: OR how about we go to the pharmacy together, and you can tell me more about how you’re feeling?
SAWYER: After you eat tacos. At least three of them.
Sawyer.
SAWYER: Eleanor.
