Page 62 of Holding You
Today was a busy one keeping the kids entertained, and even though there were moments I could check my emails and make quick replies, I still have a lot of work to do tonight.
With Max finally settled in with a movie, I grab my laptop and sit on the couch with the mouse resting on the sofa arm. It’s the best makeshift mouse pad a girl could ask for. I open my email first and check a few things to make sure I’m on schedule. Then I open my Notes app to see what’s next for the day.
As soon as I double-click on the file for the graphics I need to work on, my entire computer screen goes black.
No. No, no, no.
This can’t be happening. I just got a new computer last year. I should still have a few more years before it does this to me.
I groan and press a couple of keys, hoping that it’s going to wake up my computer, bringing it back to life.
I tap the enter key again and again, then harder.Please just blink.Anything. A cursor or a note to tell me that I need to fix this. I’ll take anything at this point.
Ten return taps later and still nothing is happening.
This is just my luck. First, my entire life is thrown off its routine, but the one thing I do have control over is work and my computer crashes. Life couldn’t get any worse.
I let out the loudest groan of all time.
“Everything all right?”
Declan is at the top of the stairs. White shirt, backward black hat, and a pair of gray sweatpants.
My eyes drift down to see if the rumors are true about what they say. Yep, right there in front of me is an outline of the very thing I should not be thinking about.
I take a deep breath.
I stand corrected. Things can get worse.
“Everything is fine, thank you very much.”
“Really? Because the noise that came out of you just gave me the complete opposite vibe.”
“I didn’t make any kind of noise, and noises don’t give vibes.”
Even with my back to him, I sense him walking toward me. On the one hand, he’s the perfect person to have near when something like this happens, but on the other hand, that means accepting his help would result in us being up here together. Alone.
Not a good plan for me.
“It would help if you turned your computer on.”
“Ever the smart one, aren’t you?”
Yes, be snappy. Make him mad. Then maybe you won’t be so attracted to him.
Because the couch that I’m sitting on is facing the living room front window, I can see his reflection. He leans forward, resting both hands on the back of the couch, one on either side of my shoulders, and then he slowly leans forward. “Looks to me like someone’s having computer trouble.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“It sort of looks like you do.”
“Just because it looks like I need it doesn’t mean I want it.”
For heaven’s sake. Listen to me arguing just to argue so that we aren’t the only two in a room. I clearly need his help.
“Is there a reason you came upstairs?”
Whatever he came up here for, I need him to just move along and grab it and return to the basement so that I can be depressed and sex-deprived in private. Then I can make a plan to fix my computer.
