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Am I actually relieved?
“Ugh.” I throw the phone on the couch and plop down in the opposite seat. My body slides down the fabric with my limbs outstretched like one of those sticky wall-climber toys.
Why am I overthinking this entire thing?
Silly question.
I know why.
Chuck.
Fucking Chuck.
He crawls his way into my brain like a festering disease, growing mold around the rotten memories of our past. I’ve worked so hard to heal from him, and the moment I feel a sliver of attachment to someone, here he is. Alive and well in my head.
It’s as if no level of assurance will ever feel real or be enough.
“This is ridiculous.” I groan.
“What’s ridiculous?” Nico says as the front door clicks shut.
“Nothing.” My limbs gather themselves from their splatter on the couch, folding up like a sheet of origami.
Peeks of pink and red kiss the tanned skin of his shoulders. Guess the unnecessarily erotic sunscreen application earlier on the beach did little to keep his skin from burning.
Also, what the hell was up with those romance book questions? I’m going to need to be more careful about everything.
“On my way back to the hotel, I was thinking that I’d like to do something special.”
My ears perk up. “What did you have in mind?”
“I want to take you to a nice dinner tomorrow.”
Bronzed, shaggy curls hang across his face, stretched from spending the day in the water. An errant strand pokes at his right eye. I want to brush it out of his face, take the rest of his tousled hair, and tug it hard until he sucks air through his teeth.
My pulse speeds like the eccentric crank on a steam train.
“Is there an occasion?” I desperately try to remain in the conversation, but I’ve lost my marbles entirely.
Nico connects his hip with the kitchen island, stretching out his abs, and my stomach somersaults. “Does there have to be?”
“I suppose not.”
A step of evolution must have skipped me. Because every time I see the deep V of his abs, my brain reverts to cavewoman status.
Happy trail. Yeah. Follow the trail. Mhmm. Happy woman.Happy trail.
It’s what Dorothy did, right? And she still managed to make it home in one piece.
Guilt sits in my stomach after the hours of snooping I’ve conducted.I have to confess.
“I was wondering…”
“What’s up?” He gestures for me to go on.
“Why haven’t you responded to any of your DMs?”
“My what?”
