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I didn’t realize how close he would be. I can smell his shower gel—deep forest scents coat the air between us. He’s cedar and orchid and a little musk.
He steps closer and stares into my eyes.
I’m starting to get that old feeling. My heart ticks a little faster.
His eyes start to widen. He lowers his head toward me and then detours to my ear. His breath is hot against my ear as he whispers, “I can hear it! It’s like a crackling.”
I turn my head and our faces are the width of a piece of paper apart.
“Wow…” he says and I’m not sure he’s talking about the plants or that we’re basically sharing air.
“Delia, I’m going to head out,” our delivery driver calls out from the back room and Joel slides back at the intrusion.
“I…I probably should get going.”
“Yeah, Grammy’s not getting any younger.”
He laughs. “You’re the same Delia that I remember. Snarky and quick wit.”
“Well, I’m not all the same.”
He pauses. “Of course not, you’re better. Beautiful.”
I swear time stops. “What?”
“Would you like to go to dinner with me tomorrow night?”
I swear my brain skips like a record on a turntable.
“Delia?”
“Um…I’m sorry, what?”
“Would you,” he pauses, “Like to go to,” he pauses again like he’s letting my brain catch up, “dinner with me?”
“Why me?”
He chuckles. “Why not?”
He’s right. Why do I assume that someone like him wouldn’t be interested in me? He’s not another species. He’s not a cactus and I’m not a rose…we’re humans.
“Okay,” I say, but it comes out all muffled.
“You’ll pray?” he asks.
“No…okay.” I break a small smile.
“Ahhh…see how easy it is to be wrong?” he winks.
Oh God, definitely panty dropping…
And I’m afraid that I might already be dropping my painfully earned defenses.
Joel
Grammy’s partywas a huge success. I thought about inviting Delia, but I figured she needed to work as the business hours weren’t finished and the party was in ten minutes. Kinda my M.O. If I’m not late, then I’m not on time.
I wrote down my number on the receipt, and asked Delia to text me hers.
