Page 34 of Until Next Time
“I said noon, right?” Dawsen asks, scratching the back of his neck, and I don’t miss the way he’s looking at me, like he’s not happy I’m early, brows furrowed and those eyes piercing.
“Uhh, yeah. I was just out running an errand and I finished early, so I thought I’d come in and chill out until you’re ready to hit the road.” Silence.
“…is that…okay?” I add, with a twinge of irritation in my tone, wondering what’s with the stick up his ass.
“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll just wrap up what I was doing and we can go.” He says, as he sticks his hands in his pockets and turns on his heel and beelines it towards the hallway that I know leads to his office.
That was weird.
I do my best to not let Dawsen’s bad vibes rub off on me and continue to bury myself in my sketchbook. I’ve been trying to hone in on my skill of drawing realistic looking hands. Which is not going well. They all look like wrinkled sausage fingers. You’d think drawing a hand would be fairly straight forward, but I assure you, they are not.
I realize I haven’t sent Casey an update on the Max situation, so I pull my phone out of my purse and open up a new chat.
Me:Max tried to kiss me.
No time passes before I see the dots bouncing on the screen.
Casey:TRIED?!?! Did he trip and fall on his face before he reached your mouth?
Me:Ugh, That would be a better story than the one I’ve got. Let’s just say, I don’t have the ick, but I’ve gotsomething that feels like the ick, without the icky. Does that make sense at all?
Casey:*eye roll emoji* yeah, you do have the ICK, and your ick is that you’re a 16 year old love sick teenager stuck in a grown woman’s body.
Me:Shit. You’re right. How do I set her free????
Casey:You’re a caged Bird. Maybe Max’s lips are the key?
Casey: Or maybe the real key is in Max’s pants ;)
Me: OMG. You’re BAD! I don’t know if he even wants to see me again. I haven’t heard from him since last night.
Casey:Keep me posted. About to get a horse nice and pregnant.
Me:Ew. Could have done without that image… Thanks.
Casey:HA! Welcome. Love you, bye.
If Casey wasn’t cool enough already, she had to go off and be one of the most esteemed horse veterinarians in the state. She’s ambitious, beautiful and intimidating as hell. I’m lucky to have her as my best friend, but I could have done without the key visuals.
24
Dawsen
Dammit.
It’s like I don’t know how to toe the line of being a decent guy and just being a straight and total asshole. Where’s the in between? Because I surely can’t seem to find it. I barely slept last night and I almost called Birdie this morning and told her that it’d probably be best if I made the trip alone, but I’m a glutton for punishment and the idea of spending the day with her is just the type of torture I’m a total sucker for.
I’ve been in my office trying to review and place this inventory order for The Merc, and I’ve been slightly distracted, so it’s taken me all morning—the same order I place every week that usually only takes me an hour—tops.
I finish up reviewing the last item on the order and hit submit. I lean back in my chair and drag my palms down my face and let out a deep exhale.
It’s go time.
I make my way out of my office, locking up behind me. I already put the bag of snacks in my truck earlier, so now I just need to run up to my apartment and change my clothes. I know Birdie thinks I look good in Navy, so I change into a simple navy blue graphic tee. I only know this because I overheard her tell Casey one time, “Dawsen looks good in Navy… I didn’t think anybody looked good in navy.” Which made me laugh at the time because I thought it was the most random observation and thought to have. But I liked that she thought it.
I grab my phone out of my pocket and open up my messages with Birdie.
Me:Meet me at my truck. I’ll be down in a sec.
