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“Yes. Older sister named Beth. She’s an elementary art teacher and married with two girls. You?”
“I have an older brother named Adam. He’s single, in the Navy, and deployed overseas.”
“Your parents are really into those double-A names, aren’t they?” I said as she groaned and shook her head, making her red locks swish back and forth.
“Right? It’s awful. I feel like a walking sitcom. Hi, we’re Arthur, Amber, Adam, and Addison Allison. Ugh. Tell me something boring about you.”
“What? Something boring?”
Her question threw me for a loop as I rubbed my jaw, cursing that I hadn’t bothered to shave. The last thing I needed was my father making an offhand comment about my appearance. He already emailed an invitation for the local Toastmasters chapter to brush up on my public speaking, which he had the nerve to say was subpar.
“Let’s see. My left foot is half a size bigger than my right foot. I make my own mayonnaise because I’m kind of obsessed with this olive oil from Greece, and I use it on everything. Oh, and I’m prone to insect bites.” Maybe those were more random than boring, but perhaps she’d share at least that many about herself. “Five-minute warning,” I said, stopping at a red light and tapping my hands on the steering wheel. “You’re up, Pop Rock.”
“Okay. Boring things about me.” She let go of my hand and tapped her finger on her chin. “I have these ridges on my thumb and pointer finger from when I slammed my fingers in a car door when I was a kid. They make me super self-conscious, so I’ll always have on nail polish. I despise my freckles. I think they make me look like I’m twelve. Surprises drive me bonkers. I’m that person who will open and re-wrap Christmas presents and demand to know plans beforehand. And I prefer to drink water at room temperature instead of cold.”
We turned into the neighborhood, and she let out a low whistle. For once, I rolled my eyes, knowing what she must think seeing the outlandish size of the houses. It wasn’t a bad place to grow up, but my childhood was more tutors and French lessons and less skinned knees and riding bikes.
“Can I ask you one more question before we start the evening from hell?” I bit the side of my cheek as I pulled up to the wrought-iron gate, preparing to punch in the code.
“Sure, but don’t set us up for failure. We’ll make it through tonight just fine.”
“If you say so,” I said as the gate opened. I wound around the driveway, going slow enough to watch her reaction. She kept her features schooled, but one slender leg tapped offbeat to the music on the floorboard, showing me she was more nervous than she let on.
“Have you always wanted to be in real estate?” I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel, matching her foot as the tires crunched on the driveway. I pulled the car around the fountain and put it in park. Turning to face her, she furrowed her brows, showing one defined wrinkle in the center of her forehead, like she spent too much time deep in her head.
“I guess I assumed there weren’t other options. After school, I remember coming to the office and helping my mom file or my dad copy. As I got older, I took on more, and when it came time to go to college, I never thought about doing anything else.” She shrugged and stuck her thumbnail in her mouth before jerking it out and threading her hands together in her lap.
“If you had to do it all over again, would you?” I asked, focusing on the fountain. I remembered watching the water spout from the mermaid’s mouth from my bedroom window growing up, thinking how special we were because we had that stupid fucking thing taking up space in the front yard. Now it was an eyesore. Something no one else in the neighborhood had. Something that screamed pretentious snob.
“I don’t know, Simon. At some point, I got jaded and unconsciously stopped trying. Maybe I was rebelling against my parents, or maybe I didn’t see it. Either way, I need to prove to them I’m not a fuckup, and that means doing all the shit I should have been doing all along. That’s kind of a non-answer, isn’t it?”
She leaned forward and peered at the house through the car window, straightening her back like it was time to put her game face on. I schooled my features, doing the same before I opened the door and walked around to collect her. The weight of her hand in mine centered me, as did her smile despite the tension hanging over us.
“You’re anything but a fuckup, Addison,” I said, turning and running my fingers down the side of her face. She put her hand over mine and smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Thank you. You’re a great guy and will make someone really happy one day.”
I want to make you happy, Addison.
What?
The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I stopped at the last second, choking on air and gasping for breath. Her hand tightened on my face as my eyes watered, and I struggled to catch my breath. She patted my back like a toddler choking on a grape, and I stepped away, shaking my head to get her to stop.
“Are you okay? What happened?” she asked, reaching forward again to rub my back. Her touch was intimate, personal, and I selfishly thought of excuses so she wouldn’t stop. I grimaced as I sucked in air, my pulse pounding in my ears and my heart thudding.
Breathe damnit. Get yourself together.
“Sorry,” I grunted, focusing on the sound of the fountain and the surrounding roses. An ornate bench sat beside the fountain, carved with flowers to match the bushes. I wanted to sit down and pull her into my lap, burying my face into her neck until my lungs were filled with her sweet smell. “Don’t know what happened, honey. Come on, let’s go.”
“Wait a second, Simon. Look at me.”
She turned so we faced each other and placed her palms on my cheeks, keeping my head in place, as if I’d look anywhere else. My hands went to her waist, and she took one off to put it on the center of her chest before resting it on my cheek.
“Breathe with me, baby. Just look at me and breathe.”
She drew in a deep breath and I focused on her heart beating against my hand and her chest expanding, matching the movement. Exhaling, our breaths mingled, peppermint met candy, and the panic that tightened around my chest loosened. Again and again we breathed, intimately connected and sharing this moment of vulnerability—this moment of connection.
I loosened my grip so my hand rested against her palm, and closed my eyes.
