Page 77 of Things I Read About
I want to touch it, touch him. I finally look into his eyes, and his brows are raised.
He’s panting, waiting. “Sally?”
In this moment, I miss who we were so badly. Who I was, what he thought, how he looked at me. So I say something I know will get a rise out of him. It has to. “Yes, sir.”
It doesn’t. Instead he turns and walks away, no reaction at all, and calls over his shoulder, “Your boyfriend is here.”
“He is?”
Nate answers before disappearing into the house. “Yeah, pulling up to the front now.”
I stand and wrap a towel around me.
What is Joe doing here? And why didn’t I tell Nate he’s not my boyfriend. Not that he would care. It’s clear that Nate has no lingering interest me. Not even this bright pink bikini caught his eye.
The other night in the kitchen, I thought I felt something with him, from him, but it wasn’t sexual. Just protective. Which is his job.
Still, I do want Nate to know that Joe isn’t my boyfriend.Wait, is Joe my boyfriend?
“Hey babe.” Joe comes out in a shirt, swim trunks, and flip flops, his ballcap on backwards. He has both hands filled with to-go bags, and he is smiling from ear to ear. “Great minds,” he says, gesturing with one of his full hands to his swim trunks. He bites his lip as he clearly checks out my cleavage peeking out of the towel.
He is undeniably cute. So much so that I can’t help but smile back at him.
I just don’t feel that magnetic pull. My body doesn’t sense his like a phantom limb.
“I brought lunch,” he says before leaning down and planting a quick kiss on my lips. “Best barbecue you’ve ever had in your life.”
“Oh, um, what a sweet surprise. Thank you.”
He chuckles. “I called and texted. Figured I’d just risk it.”
“I’m sorry, I must have left my phone inside.”
“Spacey Sal,” Joe chuckles as he kisses me on the head. “Let’s eat inside, it’s hot as balls out here.”
I follow him in, and he spreads the barbecue out on the table. I’ve never been a fan of barbecue, which is highly unfortunate for someone who is from Oklahoma and living in Texas. There’s fried okra, at least. Oh, and fries. And giant chocolate chip cookies. So, not a total loss. The smell isn’t great though.
I try not to grimace since it’s such a kind gesture.
I ask about Joe’s practice the day before and that’s all it takes to get him going. And going. And going. I don’t talk at all through lunch, just listen, and nod, and laugh.
He puts his hand on my back, and then on my thigh, but pulls away apologetically both times. Because I’ve told him I don’t like public displays of affection. I feel badly about it now. He tries so hard to hold back when it’s clear he’s a touch-feely person. During our first date he was touching me constantly. It just felt…sticky.
After consuming an unbelievable amount of meat, he stands. “Ready to swim?”
I snicker. “We just ate.”
“I wasn’t planning on hard laps, babe,” he says, his voice lowering. It makes my stomach flip, but not in the way he probably intended. He offers his hand, and his eyes are so earnest, so sweet, I can’t not take it. He links our fingers and leads me out to the pool.
I screech as he yanks off my towel and then scoops me up into his arms. I freeze, because it’s all wrong. I know what itshouldfeel like to be cradled this way. I know what I want it to feel like. And it’s not this.
I don’t have time to react, though, because in the next instant he’s in the pool with me and we’re both relieved to escape the heat. The pool is cooled, so the water feels amazing, but Joe doesn’t let go of me.
Instead, he sits down a step and pulls me closer into him. He starts kissing me, for real, with his tongue. He’s good at it, and I used to like it, back before…
Before Nate came back.
Nate who is watching us right now.
