Page 45 of Sparks Fly

“I pay attention,” I said with a small shrug, sitting down on the couch beside her.

We sat there for a moment, our legs brushing beneath the blanket, “You want to watch another episode of Buffy?” I asked.

Sawyer smiled easily. “Obviously.”

* * *

The morning moved slowly after that, warm and relaxed. We traded quiet jokes and lazy commentary while the show played. By the end of the second episode her stomach growled loudly enough to make both of us freeze.

“I should probably feed you,” I said with a smile.

“I don’t brunch,” Sawyer muttered, “Just so you know.”

“You do with me,” I laughed.

She nudged my knee with hers. “Fine. For you I will.”

I kissed her cheek and stood. “Good answer.”

We got ready and headed out. We chose a cozy café a few blocks from my place with exposed brick walls, tall windows, and hanging plants that softened the space. We slid into a booth by the window while a tattooed server gave us a knowing smile that I didn’t bother pretending not to notice.

“Why does everything here come with microgreens?” Sawyer asked while studying the menu.

“Gentrification,” I added as I scanned the menu.

“Okay, but what even is shakshuka?” she laughed.

“Fancy eggs in a spicy tomato sauce,” I told her.

“You sure?”

“Are you doubting my food knowledge? I’m hurt.” I teased.

“What do you get? Wait, let me guess. You’re a brioche French toast girl. With berries. And bacon just to keep things chaotic.”

“Turkey bacon,” I corrected. “But you’re terrifyingly accurate.”

She just smiled and shrugged one shoulder. That damn smirk was so cute it was stupid.

When the food arrived, we fell into another comfortable silence that never felt awkward.

“I don’t know what this is,” I said quietly as I met her eyes. “But I really like it.”

“Yeah,” Sawyer smiled back at me. “Me too.”

I exhaled slowly, “I want to keep doing this, but I’m—” How the fuck did I tell her how complicated I was. “—complicated…”

She listened carefully.

“I’ve never been in a relationship with a woman before,” I admitted. “This is new, and it’s a little scary, and I might be bad at it sometimes… but I like you. And I want to do this.”

Her expression softened. “I can do complicated,” Sawyer said. “I like it.”

Relief spread through me. “Yeah?” I teased.

“Yeah,” she replied. “One brunch at a time, okay?”

After brunch Sawyer took me home, my arms wrapped around her waist on the back of the bike, while the city blurred around us. When we pulled up outside my condo, neither of us seemed in much of a hurry to say goodbye. I took off my helmet and handed it back to her, she put it in the side bag.