Page 37 of Barefoot Dreams
“Y-you heard about that?”
I nod, humming.
“I wouldn’t say we are dating, but we’ve been on a few dates.” Julie tucks a wayward strand of her copper hair behind her ear.
I take a deep breath, stalling for a second to push away the rage because it doesn’t matter. It’s my crap to deal with, not hers. It’s not her fault I came home after nearly two decades and decided I no longer wanted to be eggs.
Fucking Jacob and his ham bullshit.
“Is he good to you?” I ask the only thing that matters.
“Yeah, yeah he is.” I nod again.
“Good. So why a coffee shop?” I desperately need to change the subject. “I always assumed you’d be into something like fashion or sewing. I remember seeing you sketching something on that pad of yours.”
Julie stares at me—unblinking—like she can’t believe I’d remember something like that.
In truth, I wasn’t aware I remembered it all but as soon as I saw her a week ago, it’s as if every tiny detail I tried so hard to push out of my mind came rushing back in. As if it was simply kept in a hidden compartment inside my brain for safekeeping instead of vacating the premises and now set free to torment me once more.
“Um, I loved sewing, but it wasn’t my greatest passion in life, and I absolutely refuse to ever do something that doesn’t bring a smile to my face, fill me with inexplicable joy and make me jump out of bed every morning. It’s never mattered how much I make or how hard I have to work to do the job.”
Julie is speaking toward the ocean, but my eyes are locked on this perfect little fairy. How can so much wisdom and beauty bepacked into one tiny person? And why was I so stupid to run away from her…to waste my chance?
She must sense my staring, because she turns her head slightly and when our gazes meet…a small shudder runs over her body, and something tells me it’s not from the cold weather because the same one just wrecked through my own.
We are locked in loud silence until Julie clears her throat. “Life is not about the easy choices—it’s about the right one. The ones that call out to your soul and make it sing. My love for gardening slowly grew into more. I started researching unique plants and their health benefits, and yeah. You should do what feels right to you, Griff.”
What feels right…
She feels right She has always felt right.
I’ve been running away from myself, from who I was, what I enjoyed and loved. I’ve been searching and searching aimlessly for years, pretending I didn’t already have all the answers. Trying to forget that she was the only one who ever felt right. Not normal…never normal, but right.
What a fucked-up road I’ve traveled to end up right back here.
The realization is like a bolt of lightning to my heart, clearing the fog I’ve surrounded myself in.
“Griff? Are you okay?” Julie’s green eyes pinch with concern, and a second later I register her small, dainty hand on my arm and I’m no longer thinking clearly. I feel her warmth as it skates over me, over every dead part, and I need more.
I knew exactly what I was doing by coming back here. I needed my fix. I needed her.
My gaze collides with hers for a brief, charged second before falling onto her plush, strawberry lips. Her hand is still on mine, unmoving as if she’s just as frozen as I am.
Ham or eggs?
I don’t even register my own answer when I feel my body leaning in, seeking more of her warmth, seeking home and my lips press against hers.
Just a barest of touches that feels so electrifying, I shudder, but it’s Julie’s surprised gasp, her shocked breath leaving her lips and scattering over mine that jars me back into reality.
Fuck. What am I doing?
I pull away so fast, I almost jump, startling her and I feel like a total, complete asshole when Julie blinks wildly, her lips parted in confusion.
What just came over me? She probably thinks I’m an idiot—or worse!
“Sorry! I’m so sorry, Birdy. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” I scramble for some flimsy excuse because saying I just had an emotional revelation of my lifetime would probably go just as well as this stupid kiss did.
“It’s the lavender,” Julie offers, and I huff out a laugh, grateful.
