Page 8 of 518 Hope Ave
"Oh, that's me," I say, shoving my book in my bag and rising to my feet. Ezra and I have spent the last hour companionably reading and chatting about this and that, and I’m kind of sad that my clothes are ready to take out.
“Are you here this time every Sunday?” Ezra asks as I gather my clothes in my basket then move to the folding bench.
“I sure am. So until you get a new washer, you’ll have company.” I grin at him, making neat piles of clothes and hoping he’s not noticing how boring and basic my underwear is.Note to self, buy something lacey to wash next week…
“That’s good to know. I like talking to you, Quinn.”
A massive grin takes over my face as I place my folded clothes back into the basket. “I like talking to you too, Ezra. And don’t forget about book club. I think you might really like it if you give it a chance.” He nods once, and I hook the basket under my arm. "OK. I'm heading off. I guess I'll see you around?"
He nods with a small smile, and I walk out of the laundromat, trying to do some sort of a sexy sway with my hips as I do. I’m sure it fails, so I drop the act and roll my eyes at myself before I head toward my car.Who am I kidding here?
My stomach grumbles as I set the basket on the backseat, so I figure it’s time to get these curves some food. My eyes hover over the neon lights of Cherry Pie Pizza, and my legs take me directly there. The door to the pizza shop clings as I enter, and I leave with a large buffalo chicken pizza.
Walking back to my car, I feel a tingle at the bottom of my neck, and see Ezra making his way to his car across the way, his finished laundry in hand. Our eyes meet, and I wave at him. He waves back with a smile and butterflies explode in my chest. The flutters in my chest have been going into overdrive over the last couple of months, and I just can't deny it anymore. Ezra ishot, and my bits melt every time this guy looks at me.
Why does he do this to me?
Mentally shaking my thoughts away, I unlock my car and place the pizza inside, inhaling the deliciousness and promising my stomach it’ll be eating well real soon.
POP, ACK, Ssssssss…
Suddenly, a combination of loud noises emanates from the direction of Ezra and his car. I turn around and find him flustered and rightly so. His car makes another bunch of unnatural sounds before smoke starts to billow out.
"Fuck'ssake!" Ezra's voice booms. He gets out of his car, kicks his tire, and pops the hood. More smoke. More cussing.
"Ezra," I holler. Ezra looks up from under the hood, his eyes wide and lost as they meet mine. My heart threatens to crack into pieces. He looks so defeated, and his eyes glisten with utter frustration underneath the streetlamps. "Need a ride?"
I can see the rejection in his face before he voices it. "N-no. Thanks, though. I'll be OK. I’ll…” He tries to touch something on the engine but flinches back, his thumb going straight to his mouth.
Pressing my lips together, I tap the roof of my car. "Come on, Ez. We'll call a truck when you're home, and they'll sort it out in the morning." I smile. "I promise I won't bite. In fact, to sweeten the deal, I’ll even share my pizza with you."
I’m standing here smiling like an idiot, my confidence lowering with every ticking second. Then just as I’m about to call it quits and leave him to his troubles, he finally nods. "What kind of pizza?"
I can’t help but laugh. “You’re choosy now, are you?”
“Just as long as it isn’t vegetarian.” He takes the laundry back out of his car, then makes his way over to me.
"Do I look like the kind of girl who’d order a vegetarian pizza, Ezra?" I ask with a broad smile as he gets to my car. "It’s buffalo chicken."
Being a small town, I already know he lives in Hope Avenue, so I start up the car and point us that way, making chitchat about what’s ahead in the week for school and work while we drive.
“I have to say, it’s nice being the passenger for a change,” he says as we drive. “I can’t hold a conversation when I’m focusing on the road.”
“Oh, I can talk through anything,” I say, laughing a little as I remember my grandmother commenting that I could talk a gate off its hinges. To me, words have always come easy.
“You can talk to me anytime, Quinn,” he says, smiling as he leans against the door and rakes a hand through his dark hair. “Just hearing your voice makes the world a little sunnier.”
My heart swells in my chest as my mouth curves so high I almost squint my eyes closed. “That’s probably the nicest compliment I’ve ever received,” I say, trying to contain my happy gasp.
“Really?” Ezra glances my way, his brows high on his forehead. “Geez, Quinn. I don’t think you’re hanging around the right people.”
Turning into Hope Ave, he points to his house, and I park the car by the side of the road out front. A quick glance over it shows that it's well maintained with a few rough patches. "Well, here we are," I say, unsure as to whether I should follow him in or just give him the pizza and be on my way.
"Thanks for the ride, Quinn. You seem to be rescuing me a bit these days.”
“I don’t mind. It’s nice being needed really.” I flash him a smile as our eyes lock and hold, a moment passing between us that makes me wonder if maybe Ezra could ever see me the way I see him…
Aherrrrgaaaahhh.
