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“I didn’t want to bother you.”
He raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t believe me but doesn’t comment on it.
“What tea are you drinking?” he asks.
I want to back up and ask him if he was flirting with me, but I’m too embarrassed to bring it up. I’m not used to male attention, so I don’t know how to handle it whenever I think too much about it. And I tend to overthink …a lot. So, I’m going to treat this interaction as friendly, or else I might hide under my blankets again.
“What if I’m drinking coffee?”
He gives me a flat look and I smile at him, laughing a little. I think I see a ghost of a smile come across his lips, but I can’t be sure.
“English breakfast tea sweetened with coconut sugar and a splash of cream.” I pause, then decide to take his question as an opening for a conversation. “What tea are you going to have this morning?”
“I was thinking of making a London fog, but now you have me reconsidering.”
“Do you have a favorite English breakfast tea?”
He tilts his head to the side like he’s thinking about it and then shrugs. “I can’t say that I do.”
I push myself up out of my blanket nest. My sweater falls off my shoulder and I push it back up, blushing at the thought of Adrian seeing the strap of my bralette.
“I’m about to introduce you to your favorite,” I say with a smile. “I’ll be right back!”
Warm air hits me as I walk inside, ensuring that after this conversation I’m going to curl up on my couch with Murphy and work from there the rest of the day. It’s too cozy not to. It'll be the perfect atmosphere to design a custom invitation for a bride getting married this fall.
I grab the tin of English breakfast tea still out on my countertop and pull out two tea bags. I slide them into a Ziploc and head back outside where Adrian waits on his deck. Dew soaks through my socks as I pad down the stairs and across the short walk to him.
“Here, you should try this one, it’s from one of my favorite shops.” I lift the bag up to him and he reaches over the railing to take it from me. His fingertips brush mine, warm tingles cascading down my arm at the tiny touch.
“Thank you.”
The look in his eyes is unreadable, and I’m worried maybe he doesn’t want the tea. Maybe he wasn’t flirting–or teasing as a friend–earlier. He might still be trying to keep his distance from me and now I look ridiculous for taking small talk as a cue for more.
“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want it,” I say, hoping my voice sounds sincere enough to cover up any hurt feelings I’d have if he gave it back. Which I wouldn’t, of course, because it’s just a small rejection from my hot neighbor. That’s all.
“No, it’s not—I don’t want to take and not give you something in return.” He disappears into his cottage, and I wish I could see inside, but I can’t from where I’m standing.
He comes back out with a bag of his own, handing it to me.
“It’s a lavender Earl Grey,” he says and I nod, staring at it in my hands.
The verylastthing I should do is turn this into something it’s not. I should take it for what it is, a kind neighborly gesture, and move on. But when I meet Adrian’s blue eyes again my heart skips and my intentions are lost in the whirlpool of his irises.
“Thank you,” I whisper and he dips his chin. “I hope you have a nice day at work.” My words seem pointless, but when the corner of his mouth hitches up in a small grin I feel like maybe my social skills aren’t totally lacking.
“You too.” He pauses. “You should probably get inside before you freeze.”
“Right.” I take a step back. “I’ll go then.” Amusement flickers across his expression and I quickly turn around then book it back to my deck before I can say or do anything else I’ll regret.
I glance over at his house once more when I slide open my door–only to find him still leaning on his railing, watching me. My hand lifts in an awkward little wave before I practically dive into my cottage.
“I have no business being around people,” I tell Murphy and collapse onto my couch. Murphy harrumphs in what I assume is agreement and lays his head on my feet.
My phone vibrates in my pocket so I pull it out to see who could be messaging me at such an awful hour of the morning.
And there, blinking on my screen, is a reminder of the other awful decision my past self made last night. The little heart logo makes my stomach twist, as do the words beside it.
You’ve got a match! Start a conversation with Kyle.
