He laughs and heaven and earth move.
“Come on, you must be hot after all that driving.”
“I got lost.”
“It’s easy to do. Next time, just call me, okay?”
“Oh, okay. I just didn’t know if you’d…you know. Tell me not to come.”
I can feel his body stiffen, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to agree. Waiting for him to tell me he’s going to grab me a bottle of water and send me on my way before I ruin his entire life.
“These days, all I think about is having you here.”
My brain repeats the words three times silently to itself before finally accepting them. I can’t even begin to form a response, so I just lean heavily into his side as we make our way up the few steps to his front porch.
He lets me go to open the door, and I turn in a full circle on the deck, really seeing my surroundings for the firsttime.
We’re in an oval shaped clearing in the jungle, large enough that I can only just see the far end from here. There are three small buildings in a little gathering, all painted ocean blue. I stand on the threshold of the largest one. I can see two smaller structures off toward the far end of the property, maybe sheds.
The three larger buildings have sandy trails connecting them, neatly lined with large, smooth rocks and covered with tin roofs. As I glance around, I see fruit trees, heavy with ripening fruit that I don’t recognize from here. There’s a grid of raised beds filled with squash vines and tomatoes in green wire cages.
This is incredible.
And not in the Instagram “take a picture and post it” kind of way, but in the “I want to stay here and live quietly for the rest of my life” kind of way.
“I thought your place was…” I break off, putting my foot directly into my mouth as I try to find a way to soften the harsh way I’ve heard people describe his house. “A work in progress?”
Sam steps over to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with me with his arms crossed and cocks his head, following my gaze out into the yard. “It’s definitely a work in progress.”
“Yeah, but…” How to put into words what I’m seeing right now? What I’m feeling? “It’s amazing.”
Sam slides his arm around my shoulders and pulls me in tight to his side. I melt.
“I’m glad you like it. Come see inside.”
The tour starts in the main house as he calls it, which is the largest of the three small buildings and is essentially the living room. My eyes fall on the sofa, and I flush a bit imagining him there, watching the video I sent. Or was he in his bed?
I need to see his bed right away.
He follows me up the wooden ladder to a sleeping loft that he explains is his temporary bedroom until he gets the otherbuilding finished. It’s simple, in a bachelor pad kind of way, with forest green sheets and a small yellow lamp painted with faded flowers that looks like it could have come with the house.
It’s clean, though, and that’s what matters. I can almost smell the warm breeze that dried his sheets on the line outside.
I crawl up until I’ve got my head on one of the pillows, kicking my sandals off before curling up and closing my eyes. When I open them and glance back to find Sam, he’s still on the ladder, watching me.
“No afternoon nap?” I ask, trying to bring lightness to the moment that’s starting to feel heavy.
I meet his eyes and the heaviness grows. There’s something there. Something about the way he’s watching me, arms folded at the top of the ladder, chin resting on his forearms. Like I’m a mirage he’s waiting to watch disappear.
“It’s hard to breathe when you look at me like that,” I manage finally, not lifting my head from his pillow. It smells like him, and I want to take it home with me.
“Like what?” Sam asks, chin still resting on his arms, eyes pinning me to the spot.
“Like…” I know what I want to say, but I also know I have to soften the blow. No point in ruining all the fun we’ve been having with a wet blanket of sad feelings. “Like you’re glad I’m here.”
“Is that so hard to believe?” He sees right through my statement and into the darkness of my heart.
I close my eyes again for a moment before answering. “It’s just not a look I’m used to getting, I guess.”