AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But I like her rambling. I like everything about Shelly. Even how different she is near me than she was when I saw her with friends not long ago. I like her shy side, but hope I get to know her outgoing side as well.
“Tea it is.” I tip up one corner of my mouth, lightly tap the table between us, and take a step back. “I will see you ladies on Thursday.”
Elizabeth gives an enthusiastic goodbye. But it is the quiet farewell from Shelly I hear the loudest.
I have zero intention of involving myself in any type of romantic relationship. With Shelly or anyone else. But non-romantic relationships aren’t off the table. And I would very much like some type of relationship with Shelly. The fair-haired beauty with stars in her eyes.
FIVE
SHELLY
Lavender London Fog.That is the name of the tea Devlyn brought me today. The last four days at the shop, he has brought me something different. Hot teas. Cold teas. Tea lattes. Some florally, others earthy.
And I love each one of them.
Elizabeth smiles like a schoolgirl when Devlyn hands over her coffee and deposits a brown bag with fresh baked goods each morning. The bakery items are unique and different each day. Today, he brought two lemon-frosted lavender scones with a side of honey butter. Yesterday, it was brown butter pear galettes.
With his arrival each morning, my cheeks sting and neck heats. No doubt he sees the flustery embarrassment on my skin. But he doesn’t say a word. Just smiles and says good morning.
I have never been so enamored with someone. Enough to blush like an adolescent.
And it is so freaking odd.
Shy is not my typical style. Sure, I quiet down on the first two or three dates with a guy, but I am notquiet. Not like this. Not as if I fear fumbling over my words or saying the wrong thing.
And let’s get one thing straight, I am most definitely not dating Devlyn. Not that I wouldn’t want to.
Devlyn is attractive with his sun-streaked, floppy brown hair, sharp, square jawline, and reserved nature that has me wanting to know more. To ask countless frivolous and meaningful questions. Without effort, Devlyn easily garners my attention. Lures me in. Holds me captive with unrestrained interest.
If Devlyn asked me out, my brain would conjure a hundred ways to word vomit yes in a heartbeat.
Someone stop my internal rambling. Jesus.
Devlyn is a nice guy. Quiet in ways different from my sudden shyness. His muted words and subtle smiles seem more his true nature. His way of processing the world around him without breaking it apart with meaningless words. In less than a week, I feel a sense of comfort from his taciturn nature. Like a warm hug you never want to end. This bewilders me in inexplicable ways. Drives my curiosity further. Makes me want to share more hushed moments in his presence.
When Devlyn exists in the same space as me, I see and think and process the world differently. Give myself a moment toreallytake in my surroundings. The bow of flower petals. The jagged edges of leaves. The soft brush of dried bunny tails. The potent scent of clove and cinnamon for the upcoming holidays. Each strikes me with new perspective. They aren’t just plants in a shop to sell, but also a part of something more. Something bigger.
I sip the tea and sigh. “This is wonderful. Thank you.”
Devlyn gives me his boyish smile, one that makes me, without hesitation, smile in return.
“My pleasure. Glad you’re enjoying it.”
Then he walks through the front room and out the door.
My brow furrows as confusion runs rampant. Not from what he said, but how I feel. The way I miss his presence the second he disappears. Such an off sensation. Is it weird that I enjoy the jittery calm only he delivers? Probably.
I sigh and sip my tea.
The touch-ups Devlyn has done to the outside mural have been minimal thus far. During my occasional work near the window, I have seen him add touches of fresh paint where the colors have dulled the past year. Blues and reds, but nothing extensive.
For the last four days, I fabricated reasons to be near the windows. Like I am right now. Stealing every opportunity to sneak a glance at the wall he paints. To daydream as I watch his arms flex and his head tilt as he works the brush over the concrete.
Watching Devlyn work is art in and of itself. The way his hair flops over his temple with each tilt of his head. The way he studies the wall with the end of a paintbrush pressed to his chin. How he zones out and becomes one with the art. How he only adds paint where he deems necessary.
Devlyn fascinates me in ways I never thought possible. Not solely how he views art, but also his physical presence.
I gawk at him way longer than appropriate. But no one stops me because no one is around to witness my lewd behavior. Hell, Elizabeth would probably encourage me. Tell me to spark a conversation with him. Push me to do more than spy on him through the window.
