Page 5 of Rejected Nanny Mate
I started looking forward to my shifts not because I enjoyed the job, but because it was another opportunity to see Joe. If that had been it, then it'd be easy to say that I'd just had a stupid crush, but Joe kept pushing things farther and farther. It had started with him showing up more often, and then he had asked if he could take me out after a particularly difficult shift. I'd turned him down, feeling awkward and self-conscious, and that was the start of a trend.
He would ask, and I would turn him down, but every time, it seemed like he was just a little bit more charming.
“Why not?” He would tease, smiling down at me. “You know I won't bite.”
“Not yet,” I'd joke, blushing, and his smile would widen. Something about Joe had made me feel impossibly brave, and flirting with him wasn't nearly as intimidating as I had expected it to be.
I wasn't exactly an outcast, but I'd always been awkward and socially inept. I preferred to stay home rather than go on pack runs and hunts, and that, coupled with my anxiety, had made it so I was left behind by my peers and pretty much forgotten amongst the pack. People would be surprised to see me at the coffee shop, and it was clear they had forgotten I existed. It was fine...except, not really. Part of me wanted to be left alone, but the other part was still sad that no one had made an effort to include me in less intense activities that I might have actually enjoyed.
But I understood. I'd had my first anxiety attack during a pack hunt, when the energy and violence had just been too much, and ever since then, my pack mates avoided me like the plague. No one wanted weird, introverted Gwen ruining the mood.
No one in my pack, at least. Joe Longwood was a different story.
When it became clear that I wasn't going to give in to his normal flirtations, Joe changed. He didn't pursue me like someone he wanted to conquer, but instead, he became my friend. Joe would be there to walk me home after my shift, or he would bring me lunch when I complained about how sick I was of the cafe's food. He listened to my interests, asked questionsabout my degree, and what my eventual dream job might be. We talked about music, books, and movies, and the longer I let myself talk with him, the more I wanted to let him into my world.
Then, finally, the day came.
He walked me home, like usual, but he didn't leave. Instead, we lingered on the steps outside the door, and he brushed a stray hair off my cheek.
“I'm warning you right now, Gwen. I'm going to kiss you.”
“Yes,” the answer slipped out before I had time to think, and the next thing I knew, his lips were against mine. It wasn't a hard, demanding kiss or anything that screamed sex. Instead, it was a soft, slow brush of his lips against mine. The barest hint of pressure, and his hands gently cupping my face, his fingertips stroking the soft skin under my ear.
And then he pulled away.
I was dizzy, and I couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Joe was staring down at me, watching, and he was smiling.
“What...” I licked my lips. “What was that?”
“A kiss,” his voice was husky, low. “Gwen, can I come inside?”
The thought was intoxicating, and I wanted the answer to be yes so badly, but I needed time to think. My chest felt tight, my thoughts racing as fast as my heart. “Not...not this time. Later. Maybe.”
Joe laughed. “You're so cute.”
I wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not, but I didn't argue. He was the only person in the world who made me feelthat way, and I liked the butterflies and the heat that bloomed low in my belly whenever he looked at me.
Joe left that night after giving me another, quicker peck on the lips that had me wanting more despite myself. That night, I tossed and turned, my body hot but my heart feeling like it was going to beat out of my chest. I'd never been in a real relationship before, my only other interactions with guys having happened during my short stint in college, but Joe made me feel things I'd never imagined feeling before.
That night, I convinced myself that I was in love with him. When he came into the coffee shop the next day, right on time, I clocked out on a break and dragged him behind the shop to tell him exactly how I felt before I lost my nerve.
“Joe, I want you to know—”
“You should come over tonight.”
His words made me stumble, and a nervous, fluttery giggle fell from my lips. “I, um. Well, yeah. Sure. Actually, that's what I wanted to talk about. So, you know, you don't need to invite me. Because I already feel the same way, and—”
“Gwen,” Joe stepped closer, and a blush crawled up my neck and cheeks. He was so close. I could feel the heat radiating off of him. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Why wouldn't I be?”
“Because,” he said, “You're rambling. What is it?'
“I love you,” I told him simply, buzzing with adrenaline. I wasn't surprised at the shock that had rolled across his face, but what did surprise me was the way he stepped back from me immediately.
“Whoa, hold up,” he put his hands up as though trying to push the words away. “Where did that come from? That's not funny, Gwen.”
“What?” I was shocked. “It's not a joke. Why would it be a joke?”
