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Sixty-One
Magnolia
Julian was a bit funny that I didn’t wake him when I came up.
I suspect he knew the reason had to with BJ and not the reason I gave him (“You looked so sweet sleeping there.”)
He didn’t say much about it, he just gave me a look I didn’t completely understand and kissed me and then jumped into the shower with me — making up for lost time last night, I suppose.
It was hard to do that with BJ in the house.
I feel like we’re too connected, like he can hear my thoughts. He’d know what I was doing, feel it in the air, see it on me after.
And I have fun with Julian, and he’s very good at what he does — but kissing BJ on his cheek last night was my favourite thing that’s happened since BJ gave me my necklace back.
Julian went out for a bit after we were done. He said he had some work he had to do. I don’t know what that means, but it did blow my afternoon wide open.
The house is quiet.
Christian and Daisy are off being the cutest couple in the world, Henry’s on the lake with Taura and (weirdly) separately, Jonah’s on the lake with Bianca.
I don’t know where BJ is. Around, I hope.
We’ve always had a knack for stealing moments away with one another.
I wander downstairs and check the living room. Nothing.
Then the dining room. Nothing.
I peer out to the pool. Nowhere.
Probably he’s with Jordan, but I poke my head around a few corners just for good measure. And then in the corner of the house, in one of the more secluded living rooms, I find him — watching National Geographic.
I stand in the doorway and just gaze at him for a second.
Bare-chested and only wearing the harmony print knitted track pants by The Elder Statesman and the Dip Yosemite socks that match adorably well. One arm stretched up behind his head. On his iPhone, biting down on his lip. My whole stomach flip-flops just watching him. I love watching him. It’s my favourite pastime. I used to lose hours just following him around from room to room at the weekends. How he’d butter his toast, how he’d drink from the carton, how he’d bite an apple, how he’d hug his mum. The way he’d hold his phone, the way he’d spin the remote on his index finger. The way he’d open a door. I loved the way he’d sit, the way he’d lean, where his hands would fall—and that was just the mundane things. Never you mind what it was like to watch him swim at school or play rugby. Him on a skateboard, him climbing things he shouldn’t, him driving a car—
He glances over and sees me, the corner of his mouth lifting into a little smile.
“Hey.” His eyes fall down me.
I’m not in much. Brushed leopard jacquard-knit turtleneck sweater from Dolce & Gabbana and the Cashmere In Love ribbed Mimie shorts.
“Hi.” I stay by the door.
He pats down once on the couch next to him and I walk over.
“What are you doing?” I ask as I sit.
He nods his chin at the TV before peeking out the corner of his eye. “Where’s Jules?”
“Working.” I shrug.
He frowns. “On holidays?”
I shrug again. “Where’s Jordan?”
He pauses the TV. “Shopping.”
