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“Well, fine, I’m a creep. But only for you,” he says as he begins to yawn.
He’s got an early day tomorrow and honestly, so do I. But while he peacefully drifts off to sleep, I still can’t stop my mind from racing. There’s a busy week ahead, there’s a constant fear of him finding out my history, and there’s a different constant fear that this whole thing is fleeting. That whatever has suddenly come over Derek will dissipate just as fast. I can’t say for certain why I feel like this. The age oldtoo good to be truenotion is all that comes to mind.
This week, I’m planning Derek’s birthday party at the shop. Hawk and I already sneakily sent out all the invites and told everyone to keep their mouths shut. Luckily his birthday falls on a Friday, so the plan is to casually have him come pick me up from work for a birthday dinner—and surprise him with a party.
But that also means most of my workplace priorities have shifted from managing the shop to becoming an event planner. Drew will be holding down the fort while I focus on catering, bar service, a DJ, balloons, streamers, setup, and so on. We’ll have the shop closed on Friday so there’s time to prepare the space. Oh, and of course, I have to shop for a gift for him.
I probably have just as much nervous energy overthatin comparison to the rest of my whirling thoughts. I’ve known him for so long, I know everything he likes. But we’re just starting the romantic aspect, so I don’t know how romantic or emotional to make the gift. I don’t want to go too far. But I also don’t want to get him something too generic. I need a gift that says, “Hey, I like you but I don’t love you but I’ve known you a long time and I put thought into this and I hope you like it.” See my dilemma?
It’s possible I’m putting too much thought into everything. I have a tendency to spiral pretty fast.Yay for Generalized Anxiety Disorder.
I look up at Derek’s partially obstructed face. His gentle breathing is so soothing. My final thoughts before finally drifting off to sleep are a mixture of elation and fear. What a pair they make.
* * *
The next morning after,dare I say vigorous, rushed, before-work sex, I’m off to work, as is Derek. The extracurricular activities this morning left me little time for making sure my outfit matched, thoroughly brushing my hair, or even donning my signature crimson lipstick.
So, needless to say, when I walk into the shop, I’m really not surprised when Drew is staring at me like I’ve grown a third tit.
I rush to the office before anyone else can see, and she’s not far behind. I don’t blame her for her curiosity. I’d have done the same, honestly.
“What on earth?” she asks, as she looks me up and down.
“I was running late,” I offer.
Drew crosses her arms over her chest, clearly not buying into the simple explanation. “I’ve known you to be late before, but never without your lips done. And you’re wearing two different shoes,” she says.
I look down, mortified to see one white Converse sneaker and one pale blue.Cracker Jacks.“It was dark,” I try. “They’re close enough.”
“Okay, I’ll just say it then,” she starts. “Your hair looks like you just got fucked against a wall.”
“It was not a wall. It was the cabinet door.” I laugh, despite myself.
“Oh my god, you little slut,” she teases.
“There’s nothing wrong with a little morning workout,” I say.
“So things are going well, I see.” She says this as more of a statement than a question.
“So far,” I say. “Of course, a lot could still go wrong.”
“Like?” she asks.
“Like he finds out I’ve been harboring a nearly all-consuming love for him for like twenty years,” I point out.
“And that would be bad?” she asks.
“Of course it would,” I say. “You don’t know Derek like I do. Something like that would scare the bejeezus out of him.”
“Right, okay, I hear you but…wouldn’t it be better if he heard it from you rather than someone else?” she asks.
“I’ve considered that, but honestly, only like, two people know. You and his mom, and both of you have sworn secrecy,” I say, shrugging.
“Um, no sweetie. We aren’t the only ones who know,” she counters.
“What?” I can feel all the color draining from my face.
“The guys know,” she says. “I don’t think you realized how obvious it was.”
