Page 30 of Between Brothers

Chapter 11

Blue

I sat near Hayley and watched her. She was sitting on a metal stool, staring down at her large worktable covered in white butcher paper, a pencil in her hand and a worn down gum eraser, yardstick, and ruler nearby. She was staring at the blank paper as if waiting for it to speak to her.

She hadn’t even noticed me yet, she was so inside her own head, and I simply sat a ways away, watching, waiting, wanting to see what she did and how she worked. It was the week before Thanksgiving and our third date, and we’d agreed on a quiet evening in her studio. She wanted to work on a project for a local bookstore.

I’d arrived and found the lights on in the converted garage. I’d knocked but no answer. I’d seen her through one of the many panes of the window set in the door, and had tried the handle and found it unlocked. So, I’d quietly let myself in and had taken the empty stool she had set out.

She was lovely, dressed comfortably in black yoga pants and thick white athletic socks. A gray college sweatshirt with the neck artfully cut away hanging from one shoulder, the racerback of her sports bra peeking at the back. Her hair she’d clipped up, but stray tendrils escaped, framing her face, tickling the side of her neck which was long and graceful, begging for my lips to trace the sensitive places and make her shiver.

We’d been growing closer, more intimate, but we hadn’t gone much past kissing and heavy petting. I’d just barely managed to keep my hands out of her panties and off her breasts, but the struggle was real. I wanted her. I wanted her badly.

Cell had been growing irritable with the lack of progress and was losing interest in the chase, but for once I couldn’t care. This was at Hayley’s pace and I, for one, was enjoying the slow burn.

She took a deep long breath, let it out, and dropped her pencil, pressing her hands to her face and her fingertips into her eyes, rubbing them. I got up and the stool I was sitting on creaked. She jumped and let out a little scream, nearly falling off of her own seat.

“How long have you been there?” she cried and I smiled and went to her, folding her into my arms. I kissed the top of her head and massaged the back of her neck. She looked up at me, her wide brown eyes just slaying me.

“Long enough… what’s wrong?”

“Just frustrated, I guess.”

“Yeah? With what?”

She looked off to the side, and for the very first time ever, she lied to me and it was adorable.

“I just can’t think of something to do for this window. I just don’t know what to draw. Not that I’m very good at the whole drawing part anyways.”

I smiled, knowing full well that wasn’t it, that something else, something far more important was bothering her, but like with everything else my Hayley required patience.

“Sounds to me like you could use something to eat. Let me take you out for a quick bite and we can brainstorm.”

“Really?” she asked, swallowing hard.

“Really. It’s too cold out there for you for the bike, can we take your cage?”

She visibly relaxed a little more and said, “Yeah, absolutely.”

“Okay, find some shoes and a coat and let me take you out.”

“Sounds good.”

She went up to her loft and came back down in some sturdy running shoes. I got up and went over to her as she lifted a knitted scarf off of the coat tree. I plucked down a down jacket and held it out for her to shrug into, which she did, and handed her down her purse. She plucked her keys off the hook and smiled at me and it held an edge of tiredness.

I took them from her and asked, “Mind if I drive?”

“Not at all.”

It felt good. It felt normal, like we were a couple, and I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t fully indulging in the sensation.

I placed my hand lightly on her lower back and led her outside, turning only to lock up her space, the one I was honored she let me into. She hadn’t brought Cell back here yet, and that wasn’t lost on me.

I held the passenger door to her cage open for her and closed it for her. Doing everything a gentleman was supposed to do, not because I was a gentleman, that was laughable, but because she deserved it. She deserved to be treated well, because everything about her behavior screamed long and loud that she really hadn’t been up until now.

“Is diner food okay as long as it’s not your diner?” I asked.

“Sounds great,” she said. “I could really use a good milkshake.”

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