guess ," I lament. Damn. She’s too quick for me. My stomach’s all knotted up with rejection that somehow wasn’t really rejection.
"So, what do you have?" she pushes .
"Do you like The Hunger Games? I have the second one, but haven’t watched it yet."
"Oh! Yes. Love!" she says excitedly. I need to figure out how to keep her in this mood. I like happy, lighthearted Pepper.
"Let's go then." I'm excited but still walking on eggshells. I need to weasel my way in deeper with her. I want to. Shit. I want to . When did that happen? I haven’t thought about Clara for almost the entire day. My lips pull up into a smile as we head out.
Chapter 9
I’m Not Smitten
The twenty-minute drive to my house was silent. I was on edge the entire time. Pepper seemed perfectly comfortable in silence, though. She didn’t fidget or wiggle or sigh or anything. She just took in the scenery that flashed past the window and smiled. I wanted to ask her why she was smiling but I was terrified that I’d say something wrong and she’d tell me to can the entire evening and take her home.
She finally spoke when I pulled into the driveway , gushing about how lovely the house was and how on Earth does a man pick something like this out. I laughed loudly. If she only knew. I explained that I had picked the house out almost six years ago. I’d moved out when Clara and Dom started dating but when she moved in with him I’d moved back into the house. It seemed silly to sell it if one of us still wanted to live in it.
“So you kept it for Allie?” she says wistfully .
“Well no, I mean yes, Allie’s grown up here but I love the house too ,” I state. The tension between us is confusing. She keeps her distance from me but just barely, like she’s daring me to try and make a move. To touch her. Honestly, I just want to feel her. I want to twine her fingers through mine. I want to feel her torso pressed into mine. What would her slender arms feel like snaked around me? Does she nuzzle into the neck or arm area? What does she look like when she sleeps? All these questions buzz around in my head as we stand in the kitchen chatting about a house. A stupid house.
“But it didn't make you sad to live here, with all the memories?” she asks seriously , watching me.
“For a little while, it sucked. I was pretty messed up over the entire situation, but Allie and I made the house ours. We redecorated, moved bedrooms, the whole nine ,” I explain. She watches me carefully when I speak. It’s nerve-racking sometimes. I want to know what she’s thinking or if she’s silently judging me.
“Is that the back patio?” she asks , looking behind me to the French doors.
“Yup.”
“May I?” she asks, gesturing to go check it out.
“By all means. I’m just going to grab a new ice pack.” I watch as she moves around me and pushes through the doors. The evening light creates a glow around her body that makes her look angelic. I think I could get used to her being around. I throw my used ice pack into the freezer and pull out a new one. I wrap a dish towel around it before heading outside to check on Pepper .
As I shut the door behind me the distinct smell of pot attacks my nostrils. Pepper sits on one of the lawn chairs smoking a joint. She blows out a large , white cloud of smoke and hands it towards me as she watches the billowing white cloud.
“Want some?” she offers , looking up at me.
“No ,” I answer more harshly than I meant.
“Ok ay then.” She shrugs and takes another hit. Pot. Goddamned pot. I’m not against it. I don’t really care if people are into that, but honestly I don’t want the person I’m involved with to be a pothead.
“So is this a special occasion?” I ask as I sit in the chair next to her.
“Huh?” Pepper responds .
“The joint.” I nod towards it .
“Oh, this?” she asks , looking at it. “No. I like to unwind sometimes. I get so anxious and tense. It helps.” She smiles. Right.
"So, what do you have?" she pushes .
"Do you like The Hunger Games? I have the second one, but haven’t watched it yet."
"Oh! Yes. Love!" she says excitedly. I need to figure out how to keep her in this mood. I like happy, lighthearted Pepper.
"Let's go then." I'm excited but still walking on eggshells. I need to weasel my way in deeper with her. I want to. Shit. I want to . When did that happen? I haven’t thought about Clara for almost the entire day. My lips pull up into a smile as we head out.
Chapter 9
I’m Not Smitten
The twenty-minute drive to my house was silent. I was on edge the entire time. Pepper seemed perfectly comfortable in silence, though. She didn’t fidget or wiggle or sigh or anything. She just took in the scenery that flashed past the window and smiled. I wanted to ask her why she was smiling but I was terrified that I’d say something wrong and she’d tell me to can the entire evening and take her home.
She finally spoke when I pulled into the driveway , gushing about how lovely the house was and how on Earth does a man pick something like this out. I laughed loudly. If she only knew. I explained that I had picked the house out almost six years ago. I’d moved out when Clara and Dom started dating but when she moved in with him I’d moved back into the house. It seemed silly to sell it if one of us still wanted to live in it.
“So you kept it for Allie?” she says wistfully .
“Well no, I mean yes, Allie’s grown up here but I love the house too ,” I state. The tension between us is confusing. She keeps her distance from me but just barely, like she’s daring me to try and make a move. To touch her. Honestly, I just want to feel her. I want to twine her fingers through mine. I want to feel her torso pressed into mine. What would her slender arms feel like snaked around me? Does she nuzzle into the neck or arm area? What does she look like when she sleeps? All these questions buzz around in my head as we stand in the kitchen chatting about a house. A stupid house.
“But it didn't make you sad to live here, with all the memories?” she asks seriously , watching me.
“For a little while, it sucked. I was pretty messed up over the entire situation, but Allie and I made the house ours. We redecorated, moved bedrooms, the whole nine ,” I explain. She watches me carefully when I speak. It’s nerve-racking sometimes. I want to know what she’s thinking or if she’s silently judging me.
“Is that the back patio?” she asks , looking behind me to the French doors.
“Yup.”
“May I?” she asks, gesturing to go check it out.
“By all means. I’m just going to grab a new ice pack.” I watch as she moves around me and pushes through the doors. The evening light creates a glow around her body that makes her look angelic. I think I could get used to her being around. I throw my used ice pack into the freezer and pull out a new one. I wrap a dish towel around it before heading outside to check on Pepper .
As I shut the door behind me the distinct smell of pot attacks my nostrils. Pepper sits on one of the lawn chairs smoking a joint. She blows out a large , white cloud of smoke and hands it towards me as she watches the billowing white cloud.
“Want some?” she offers , looking up at me.
“No ,” I answer more harshly than I meant.
“Ok ay then.” She shrugs and takes another hit. Pot. Goddamned pot. I’m not against it. I don’t really care if people are into that, but honestly I don’t want the person I’m involved with to be a pothead.
“So is this a special occasion?” I ask as I sit in the chair next to her.
“Huh?” Pepper responds .
“The joint.” I nod towards it .
“Oh, this?” she asks , looking at it. “No. I like to unwind sometimes. I get so anxious and tense. It helps.” She smiles. Right.
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