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“I booked the entire bar for this evening.” He pulls out a seat for me and I sit, too surprised to even ask questions or protest.
As he orders for us, I sit back and watch him. I can't help but wonder why he brought me here. It's overwhelming.
“Do you want anything else?” He asks.
I'm once again struck with the realization that I have no idea what exactly Chris wants. “Why are you doing this?”
He swallows, fingertips drumming against the tabletop. “To spend time with you.”
My heart does a backflip in my chest. Once again, I'm going to get ahead of myself and read too much into things. I'm going to hurt myself, and I’ll be the only one to blame.
His one-sentence replies only confuse the hell out of me.
His eyes search my face as if trying to find something. “Gianna…”
Our order arrives, and he keeps quiet. Two huge cups filled with kiwi, strawberries, and mango with ice cubes swimming on the top. The liquid inside a colorful rainbow of blue, green and red.
There are some blueberry bars and Italian sandwiches on two different plates. They are my go-to beach snack, but I'm not even moved to eat them.
He places one blueberry crumb bar on my plate with a smile that makes my heart sing. “Please eat so you will have strength for later.”
I cut into the bar and managed to eat a few bites before I gave up. “You are acting like we are okay. Like nothing happened,” I finally say.
He stops eating and wipes his mouth with the napkin. He looks so nervous. “We were just starting to be friends when everything happened. I'm trying to go back to that. I want us to try and…keep going from here, maybe more than before. Only if you want that?” His eyes are filled with hope.
It’s like an electric shock goes through me.
He wants more. My ear must be doing some tricks on me.
“Shit,” he cusses and recklessly drops the napkin on the table. “I suck at this. I really suck at this.”
He's looking anywhere but at me now. It feels like an eternity before he finally speaks.
“When I saw you for the first time in front of my house, I was strangely happy. I didn't know why. After all, we never had a friendship. I guess it felt good having someone I know in the neighborhood.”
He turns to look at me as if making sure I'm listening. “Then I saw you at the bar, and it's like the scales in my eyes fell because you are too beautiful to be true. I was attracted to you more than any other woman. I still am.”
A ripple of electricity shoots through my belly. I gulp at the gravity of his words.
“At first I thought I was drawn to you because I felt guilty about how I treated you in the past, but no. I wanted you. Only you. I thought having you for one night would be enough, but I was wrong.”
He takes a sip of his drink, and I notice that the tips of his ears were tinged red.
“Then one night turns into more, and it doesn't feel like sex anymore. It began to feel more like we were making love.”
I want to touch him, reach out and grab him, and shout at him that I felt the same. But I restrain myself.
“No one makes me feel like I do when I’m with you.” He places his hand on mine and smiles in relief when I let him.
“Then you ended it and it felt like you trampled my heart,” he continues as he squeezes his fingers over mine. “I couldn't stop thinking about you. I missed you so much.”
Our eyes meet, and I feel like I can’t breathe. I can’t look away even if it feels like too much.
“I’m sorry if it took me so long to realize that I'm in love with you,” he confesses.
It feels like my heart no longer remembers how to work, and my lungs cannot take in oxygen. My eyes widen, and my lips part. I snatch my hand from his, after feeling it burn under his touch.
There’s no way. No way.
