Page 57 of The Bright Side of Brooding
“Thank you.” He took my face in his hands and leaned down to place a soft, quick kiss on my lips. When he pulled back, he looked happy.
For no good reason at all, tears welled in my eyes. I shut them and raised onto my toes, pressing another kiss to his firm, beautiful lips. Without moving far, I said, “Guess we better go.”
He released me, sliding his hands from my face, down my neck, and to my shoulders, where he squeezed, then backed away. “Let me grab my bag. I’ll meet you up front.”
* * *
By the time I dragged myself into my house, it was after three—two hours later than I’d planned on getting home, but such is life with delayed flights. At least it finally took off, and at least I got to ride home with Nick.
After I refused his offer to carry my small bag inside, the invitation to join me for dinner tonight had been on the tip of my tongue. Before I got it out, he asked me to come to dinner at his place tomorrow. I readily agreed and asked if I could bring anything. He said he’d like to cook for me, unless I would be happier doing the cooking.
That had shut me right up. I kissed his cheek and practically ran inside, something about his caveat about cooking for me stirring all manner of emotion in my chest. First, I very rarely got invited to other people’s houses anymore. If I did, I always offered to bring something, and they always accepted. In this community, more than any other I’d lived in, I’d created a bit of a name for myself as a capable cook and hostess. I liked that, but it made his invitation to his home, and forhimto feedme,all the more impactful.
Then he went and topped it off with the insight intome. We’d been friendly for weeks now and had been interacting for a few months by this point, but he knew me. At least, in this respect, far better than almost any of my exes had, for sure. And in some cases, better than my close friends.
As I tossed clothes into the washer, I mulled over the man. I liked him. I’d learned more about him this weekend, and each piece I found, I nestled into the puzzle of him in my mind. Those thoughts led to the inevitable physical response—butterflies and stomach flips and dippy little audible sighs I was glad only escaped when I found myself alone.
The problem with that was simple. I shouldn’t feel so much for a man I’d just met and had only barely started dating. But already, I recognized that my physical response wasn’t based on his physical appearance. I mean, I liked that—oh, yes, yes, and yes again, I did. But I liked all of him… even the introverted, spare-worded, quiet version. In fact, it wasn’t aversion, not like other people were. It might be that Nick proved to be one of the most genuine people I’d ever met. What you saw in any given circumstance was what you got.
Could the same be said of me?
I sighed long and loud and dramatically and punched the button to start the wash. Honestly? No. I had my customer-service-nurse face, and my hosting-feast-night face, and my smaller-group-of-friends face, and then there was me. The one underneath it all. It wasn’t that I wanted to deceive people but that fitting into a given place required flexibility, and I had that skill. I’d learned it as a kid when it became clear I couldn’t rely on my family for what I needed, and I’d mastered it as I entered active-duty service in the Army and began my nursing career.
What I didn’t know was how Nick would feel about me as he witnessed those changes. Would he notice? Would he care?
I brushed away those questions and moved to the kitchen. I’d whip up something with whatever I had in the fridge, and tomorrow after work, I’d hit the commissary. Not ideal, but I didn’t have the gumption to face going out again.
And if the prospect of being at his house, seeing inside his space, kept me completely distracted the rest of the day? Well, who could blame me?
