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“Hi,” she says back. Her smile is barely there, but all her emotions are in her eyes. She seems to be feeling a lot like I’m feeling: happy, a little cautious, and maybe a lot in awe of the events at the bonfire.
I didn’t sleep much last night, wanting to relive the kiss and solve all our problems. I want to figure out a way we can be together, in the same town, and both still have everything else that we need. By the morning, when I forced myself out of bed, I knew I still didn’t have any answers. I just didn’t seem to care because I wanted to see her--bad.
Now, Sophie’s working at a small table near the door, and I can’t keep my eyes off her. I can’t sit still, either, so I’m pacing around the room, trying to sort out in my mind some work issues.
She’s filling out an online book expense form for the accounting department.
“Hey, so Soph?” I finally ask.
“Mmm hmm?” She answers, her eyes trained on her screen.
“Did I tell you what Sebastian said?” I’m looking out the window at the lake, still pacing.
One beat of silence, and then she says no.
“I told him you needed an office,” I say. “And since he’s so stingy with the square footage, he suggested I carve out some space in here for you.”
I feel her glance over at me before turning back to the list she’s making, but she doesn’t say anything, so I reroute my pacing to face her.
She’s wearing jeans with holes slashed through the thighs and knees, and an oversized t-shirt that says, “I have no shelf control.” It has a graphic of a messy, overstuffed bookshelf. I don’t know where she got it, but it’s perfect for her. Her hair is braided to one side. I want to kiss her again.
Sophie levels her head at me, her gaze steely. “Sounds good.” So much passes between us in a second—hope with an underside of caution. At least I hope I’m reading her correctly. I know that’s how I’m feeling.
I nod. “Good. Consider this your office, as well.” I spread my arms wide. “What’s mine is yours.”
The corners of her lips creep up in the smallest of smiles and then she turns back to her work.
I sit down at my desk, pick up my phone, and text Britta, Sebastian’s personal assistant:Operation: Sophie’s Desk is a GO.Except I can’t stay seated anymore because I’m excited all over again. I get up to wander around my office some more.
In less than thirty minutes, we have delivery people from all over the county and even Denver bringing items in. Britta, who is sort of a bossy grandmother type, comes by to grin at me before I covertly shoo her away. She rolls her eyes, much like she did this morning when I was explaining my plan in an animated way. Once the delivery people get going, I manage to stay seated at my desk for a whole ten minutes.
At first, Sophie barely pays them any attention. But pretty soon, it’s hard not to. Especially when the technicians from an interior design firm in Denver come in and literally start applying temporary wallpaper above where she’s sitting.
She pushes her chair out and walks over to me. My body is buzzing with an acute awareness of her every move. I try to play it cool, pretending I’m too wrapped up in my work to know she’s standing by my desk.
She puts her hand on her waist and tilts her head, sticking out her bottom lip subtly. “So…what’s this?”
I fight the urge to gush,I can’t live without you Sophie and I need to show you that, so I’m shamelessly buying your affections and showering you with a cool workspace.
“I wanted to create a little area here for you. Give you your own space,” I say instead.
Her eyes are big as she points. “A French-style blonde carved desk with a wash of white paint?” She sits and spins around. “The fanciest desk chair I’ve ever seen that happens to be—” she bounces twice on the seat. “—uncommonly comfortable. And now a—” She tilts her head to the side to look more closely at the wall covering I’d chosen. “Bright blue wallpaper with birds on it?”
“Remember your French obsession?” I chuckle as I think of the summer between our junior and senior years after she’d had two semesters of French. She kept spouting off random words in the best accent she could manage and started collecting anything that reminded her of a place she didn’t think she’d ever visit. She still hasn’t.
“Thankfully I never went so far as to wear a beret.” She shudders and then smiles. “Beret wearers, man. Gotta love ‘em.”
“Exactly. When I saw these pieces, they reminded me of that. The wallpaper company said this would look nice with the desk.”
“It looks spectacular.” Her gaze takes everything in before returning to mine, her surprised expression melting into something softer. “Thank you.” She moves closer to me.
“I wanted to make it special for you.” My nerves shuttle up through my stomach and into my chest. I’m putting myself out there, and it’s equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.
She reaches in to give me a swift kiss. Someone from the office supply store in Granger comes to set up one of those little gold organizers filled with pens, pencils, and paper clips. “I’m glad I get to hang out with you.” She touches my shoulder and I meld into her touch.
Almost before I can see the openness in her gaze, she clears her throat and turns to grab her laptop. “Okay, here’s about thirty titles I’ve chosen so far.” She sets the computer on my desk and leans in, her perfume filling my head.
I look at the screen but, embarrassingly, I’m unable to pay attention for too long without filling my head with everything Sophie. I’m irritated that the wallpaperers are still here. I should ask them to step outside so we can have a moment to ourselves.
