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Now that I think about it, she’s been preoccupied for the past couple of days. I’m not sure what it means.
Maybe nothing.
Maybe something.
It’s themaybe somethingthat concerns me.
Even though alt rock plays in the background, her silence feels deafening. I’ve tried several times to start up a conversation.
Each one has stalled.
Normally, the girl is a veritable chatterbox. Talking about her day before asking how mine went. It might not be something I have a lot of experience with, but I like it.
Unwilling to let this stillness linger, I set the wrench down on the engine and swing around to face her. It’s almost a surprise to find that she’s not paying attention to me.
That’s a first.
Her brow is furrowed as her gaze stays locked on her sandals.
“Poppy?”
Her head jerks up at the sound of my voice. “Yeah?”
It only takes five strides to swallow up the distance between us. The closer I get, the further she has to tip her head in order to hold my searching gaze.
My hands settle on her cheeks, the thumbs gently stroking over her lush lower lip. “You’ve been awfully quiet this afternoon. What’s going on?”
If I’d thought I was jumping the gun or my assessment of the situation was off, the guilt that flickers across her face tells me that’s not the case. When she breaks eye contact, my fingers tighten around her chin, redirecting her gaze back to me.
I want to know what’s eating her up inside.
More like I need to know.
“Talk to me, baby. I have no idea what’s going on inside your head.”
The reluctance in her blue depths is what scares me most. Poppy might not realize it, but her face is so expressive, and she wears her emotions for all to see. It’s one of the things I like about her. From our first run-in, I knew what she was thinking. The desire was evident in her expression.
I always want her looking at me that way.
With longing and lust.
And someday…love.
“I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” she whispers, shattering the thoughts inside my head and scattering them to the wind.
I blink as the air evaporates from my lungs until it feels like I can’t breathe.
“Oh.”
That’s all I’ve got.
My brain spins on an endless loop as I stand rooted in place and stare in shock, hoping that somehow, I’ve misunderstood the words that just tumbled from her lips.
“I’m sorry.”
Sorry.
Sorry for crashing into your life and making you feel things you never expected or wanted to feel in the first place.
