Page 29 of Without You

“Figured that was kind of obvious.”

“Figured it would have been obvious that if I was seeing someone I would have told you rather than gotten together for coffee again,” she counters.

I wince. “Yeah.”

“Yeah? Brody!”

Chuckling, I do my best to smooth it over. “I’m sorry, okay!”

The face she pulls looks like she tasted something funny. Which, she probably did seeing as how I just said something that definitely left a bad taste in her mouth. Then she proves my theory when she asks, “Why would you suddenly ask that?”

Here’s where I get to decide whether to be truthful or not but given the fact that I actually like her, and not just because she’s pretty — gorgeous, even, I go with telling her how I feel and why I asked her if she was seeing someone. Leaning forward so my arms are resting on the tabletop, I lower my voice and say, “I was thinking about you and all the things I want to do with you and, quite frankly, to you, and then it hit me that I had never asked if you were free to do things like meet me for coffee... and all the other things that quite honestly make me feel like a bit of a perv for thinking about right now sitting here in this coffee shop. Though, to be fair, I’ve been thinking of you since I saw you at Hannah’s wedding, haven’t been able to keep you out of my mind, so it’s not as if you walking in here today suddenly flipped a switch in me. You may not want to hear this but, and I might be making it awkward between us now, but thought I’d lay it all out there so you know what I’m feeling.” As I was delivering that little bit — or a lot — of information, things grew… and not just for me. Katie’s eyes grew big, her cheeks grew rosy, and her breathing grew faster.

“All the things?” she asks quietly.

I nod once. “All of them.”

“Are there… a lot?”

“Oh, yeah. There are.”

“Care to share with the class?”

I shake my head. “Not here.”

“Oh.”

With a wink, I say even lower, my voice coming out deep and husky, “Yeah. Oh.”

Oh my, I see her lips say but the words don’t come out.

I grin, loving the fact that I’m maybe getting to her, too — even if only a little. Now she’s staring at my mouth and I can’t help but feel a little bit of pride. She can stare at me all she wants, for however long as she wants, as long as her eyes keep telling me that she’s into me like I’m into her. Like maybe everything I said to her just moments ago is what she’s feeling, too.

She shifts in her seat slightly but her eyes stare unseeingly. Whatever she’s thinking, I want in on it. “Katie.”

“Yeah?” she asks, breathless.

“We’re in the coffee shop. Maybe we should talk about this somewhere else?”

“Yeah.” This yeah is just as breathless as the first and it makes me grin.

I want to reach across the table and grab her hand in mine but I resist the urge. “Are you listening to me or just staring at me?”

“Staring.” She’s not lying. She’s still staring at my lips, and the fact that she just admitted to that is a clear indication that she’s not really listening to a thing I’m saying.

“I’m wearing women’s underwear,” I say, testing it out, curious if she is paying any attention to what I’m saying.

“Yeah.”

I sit back in my seat and it breaks her stare on my mouth. “Katie?”

“What?”

“Are you even listening to what I’m saying?”

“No, sorry,” she eventually admits.

“See I have the same effect on you as you do on me.”

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