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20
Lucas was well into his workout when he heard a knock on the door of his garage-turned-gym.
He figured it was Mia, as it was close to the agreed upon drop-off time.
He opened the side door into the garage and was shocked to see Birdie standing alone with her hands in the back pockets of her cutoff jean shorts and wearing a thin black T-shirt.
With her hair down and around her shoulders, she looked just like she did when she was younger, before she began to chop her hair off and color it every shade of the rainbow.
Her bottle-green eyes were glued to his torso, which he realized was bare as he had removed his shirt prior to working out on the punching bag and then hitting the mat for push-ups.
He looked for his T-shirt to throw on, despite lifting it from the back of an old office chair, something made him think otherwise. Something dark and oddly satisfying considering where her eyes were focused.
“Dropping Mia off?” he asked, using the shirt solely to wipe the sweat off his chest.
She finally looked up, appearing distracted.
“Yeah, um, yes. She’s inside.” She pursed her lips, then her tongue peeked out to wet them, biting her bottom lip as an encore.
“Did you want something, Bird?” His tone a lower octave than usual. So much for spending a week avoiding her, only to find themselves alone and looking at one another like a late-night snack.
“I… we…” she stammered, and he liked that he could knock her off balance. Payback for years of suffering stone-grade hard-ons while trying to manage a raging teenage libido.
His mind raced over the torturous memories.
Red juicy lips from sucking on cherry-flavored popsicles. Never a problem until reaching a certain age, making their afternoon treats pure torture for him. Then there was the bikini she kept in her backpack for when they explored the dunes after school, with the fucking little strings on the sides that berated him. Scoffed at him with the little fucking beads on the tips.
He balled the shirt in frustration and ran it over his chest to soak up the sweat and to further discombobulate the one woman he could never hold on to.
“I’m sorry,” she said with a chuckle, fanning herself. “It’s really hot in here.”
“I prefer to work out when it’s hot.”
Raising her eyes to the ceiling, she continued, “Okay, that’s fine. I mean, it’s good that you maintain an exercise routine to stay fit… and healthy.” She searched the room, her eyes ultimately making their way back to his chest. “So, I wanted to ask you, the reason I’m here… by any chance do you know Frank and Sarah-Lynn Sanderson’s son?”
That was a surprise.
“I do. Oliver’s a good kid. Gets good grades. Has decent manners. Kind of a loner.”
“Today at the diner, Angus said he ‘made eyes’ at Mia.”
What the fuck did that mean?
“What do you mean ‘made eyes’?”
“You know, made… flirty eyes,” she said, batting her eyelashes theatrically. “And supposedly, Mia liked it.”
Lucas worked through that for a minute, pinching his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger and then setting both hands on his hips in contemplation. With a lift of his chin, he said, “That little punk. I’ll kill him.”
She smiled. “I don’t think that will be necessary. Besides, it was you who said that a felony might not be a good look so close to re-election.”
Ignoring her, he belted out, “Why in the hell is Oliver Sanderson making fucking flirty eyes at Mia? He’s way too old for her.”
Her eyes grew concerned as Lucas tried to remember what grade the little punk was in.
“How old is he?” she asked.
“Fifteen or sixteen. No, wait, he drives so he has to be sixteen. Too old to be looking at Mia, that’s for damned sure.”
