Page 27 of The Things That Hold Us

“So, what are you getting into today?” she asks as she sits across from me.

“Well, I have to go to the shop for a little while today. I have someone bringing me quilts? I honestly don't know. After that, I don't think anything. Cassie won’t let me come over because she doesn’t want me to see the decorations yet, so I guess I’ll just come home, maybe we can watch a movie or something?”

She nods, “That sounds like fun. I still have to go birthday shopping, so I’ll do that today while you work, then meet you here.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

We finish breakfast, then I go and get ready for work. I toss on a flowy dress, and the cardigan my mom made me, then grab a claw clip and put my hair half up. It's nice out today, and I feel like looking nice for a change.

I tell my mom bye, and that I’ll see her later, then I start my walk.

I stop in and grab my morning coffee, like usual, and as I’m heading out the door, I smack into a hard wall.

Only this time, I know it's not a wall.

“Logan.” I say, looking up smiling, trying to hide my embarrassment. That's twice now. Two times I’ve run into him. “I’m sorry. I didn't see you.”

“That seems to be a habit of yours.” he says, and the only way I can tell he’s teasing is because the right side of his mouth twitches up.

“You didn't spill your coffee, did you?” he asks, assessing me. I watch as his eyes linger over my dress, taking in how I look today. I’m not sure what it is, but the way his gaze lingers makes my skin hot; in a good way, I think.

“No, no I didn't spill.” I answer him, clearing my throat.

His eyes dart up to mine, and I swear I see his cheeks flush pink.

“You.. You look amazing today, Charlie.” he tells me, and his cheeks darken more.

“Oh.” I smooth out my dress, and look down at myself like I forgot what I was wearing. “Thank you. I just tossed it on this morning.”

He makes a deep humming sound in the back of his throat, and I'm not entirely sure what it means.

“Well, I should get going. I have to open my store.”

“Oh, right.” he says, holding the door open for me to pass through.

Once we’re outside, he says, “Care if I walk with you? I’m meeting someone in that direction, and I think it would be weird if I just walked behind you.” he laughs, and I find myself laughing with him.

“Of course you can.” I say.

We walk a couple minutes, and I can feel the tension pulling between us. I know he wants to ask about me not replying to his text, and I know I should say something. But what do I even say?

A minute later, I look over at him.

God he's huge. And not like big bellied or overly muscular.. Just..big. His arms are huge, his chest and shoulders are broad, and he’s so tall.

Taking a breath, I finally say, “I’m sorry.”

He turns and looks at me, his eyebrows pinching in that way that they do a lot when I speak.

“For not replying to your text.” I clarify.

He mouths the word ‘Oh’, and nods his head, but doesnt say anything, letting me finish.

“I planned on it. But to be completely honest, I’m not good at that.”

“At texting?” he asks, with a teasing tone to his voice.

“At conversation.” I roll my eyes at him. “If you haven't noticed, I’m not very good when it comes to socializing.Especiallytexting. But I did plan on replying, then I let it go too long and thought it would be weird.”

---