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“It’s okay.” I shrug. “I don’t really mind.”
“Are you going to see him again? This guy?”
My face lights up. “Yup. Today.”
“Go girl!” Lisa is smiling. “Don’t give him a hard time.” At my confused frown, she sighs. “You know…the whole…I don’t let anybody close thing.”
My first instinct is denial. “What do you mean? I let people close.”
“No, you don’t! It took months of living in the same apartment before you relaxed enough to be friends with me.”
I want to argue, but she’s right. After losing my dad, and then my mom, I’ve had a hard time getting close to people, especially when I know they’ll soon be out of my life.
And yet, I want to dive into this thing with Tristan. Which makes no sense. He’s one person I know for sure will be gone in a few days at the most.
Puzzling over my dilemma, I head across the room to my tiny closet and pick out a short denim skirt with a frayed hem and a white peasant top, then change and study my reflection in my full-length mirror.
“You look good,” Lisa says helpfully, as I slip my feet into flat sandals. “Innocent sexiness with a hint of countryside rustic.”
In another life, maybe she’d be styling photoshoots for magazines. I’m about to say that when my phone beeps. It’s a message from Tristan.
On my way.
My stomach flutters.
Relax, Cora. He’s just a guy.
One you really,reallywant.
Lisa is studying me. “So, this is a date-date?”
Is it? Truth is, I don’t even know what Tristan wants. I know I’m attracted to him. I know wild horses can’t stop me from going out with him today. I know I’m totally open to the possibility of being with him intimately.
But time doesn’t support the idea of making this any more special than it really is.
No matter how much I want to keep seeing him beyond this week.
You only spent a day with this guy, Cora, and you’re already planning a long-distance relationship with him.
“What’s a date-date?” I ask Lisa with faux confusion.
She starts to reply, but my phone beeps again. It’s another message from Tristan.
“He’s here.” I breathe.
“Ah.” Lisa leaps up from the bed and heads to the open French doors to peer out into the street. “If he’s the guy with the convertible, then wow, Cora.”
I walk past Lisa to the curved iron railings on the balcony. Down in the street below us, Tristan steps out of the driver’s seat of a gleaming silver convertible with the top down.
And he looks…
Wow!
He’s wearing jeans and a white t-shirt, same as yesterday, but with a short-sleeved blue shirt hanging open over the t-shirt. He’s also wearing dark shades, but as he looks up at me, he takes them off and flashes a grin at me, and I almost fall over.
“Damn!” I mutter under my breath.
“Hot damn,” Lisa agrees behind me.
