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Authors: Alice Bright
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on? What if he has a horrible secret. A wife? Another life? Another girlfriend?
"We need to talk," I start, but immediately cringe. We need to talk? Who starts a conversation that way? Unless you're breaking up, that's the worst thing you can say to someone. Even then, it's still the worst thing you can say.
Sean knows because he winces at the words.
"Do we?"
"Yeah, but I mean, nothing bad..." I search for the right words. I have to find them. I practiced asking him all last night. I even stood in front of the mirror, making sure I didn't sound like a total loser. Apparently, my tactic didn't work because now I'm here like a total dork, freaking out in front of someone who has shown me nothing but love and tenderness.
"You want to know where I was yesterday."
"Yes..." I'm shocked. He read my mind. Of course he did. He's Sean Moormead. He's Mr. Perfect. He's Mr. Fuck-Me-Everywhere-and-Anywhere. He knows exactly what I need in bed, exactly what I need at work, and exactly what I need in a boyfriend. Why wouldn't he know what I wanted to ask?
"I don't want to pressure you," I say, "but honestly, it kind of freaked me out. I thought we were moving forward together. I thought we were pursuing something special. Then you didn't text me back, didn't come to work, and I just thought...I thought something was wrong. Especially, you know, after the whole not sleeping in the same bed thing..."
And now I sound like a whiny high school student whose boyfriend doesn't want to go to prom.
Perfect.
"Violet," he begins, and I know that whatever he's going to say is bad. "We'll talk. We will. I promise, but we can't do it here. There are some things you need to know about me, some things about my past. I'm ready to share with you, but it's heavy, and it's not something I'm at all comfortable talking about at work. Hell, I'm not even sure I'm comfortable talking about it at all."
I rub my hand up and down his shoulder. I know he's hesitant still. We're still so new that we're both being careful. Neither one of us wants to fuck this up. Not just yet. Not before we really get started.
"Okay," I tell him. "I appreciate that you're willing to open up to me. You have no idea what it means to me." And I mean it. Despite my freaking out and panicking over everything he does, he's somehow managed to make everything okay with just a few simple words.
He nods slowly, painfully. He needs to be alone, so I get up.
"Why don't we do dinner?" I ask. "I'm actually looking at a house at 6:15, but I could come by after, or we could meet somewhere."
"A house?" He raises an eyebrow.
"I'm taking your advice. I'm moving to Pinebluff as soon as possible." I discussed it with Amy and she was thrilled at the idea of me moving out. Even Colby seemed pleased.
I turn and walk out of Sean's office without another word, but not before I see the little smile playing on his lips.
He's glad I'm moving.
And my heart soars.
20.
It's a funny thing, falling in love.
You can feel like you're doing everything right.
You can feel like you're getting everything under control.
You can feel like you're floating and falling at the same time.
You can explode.
You can melt.
You can die.
You can feel everything and nothing all at the same time, but it's never quite what you expected.
Love is always a surprise.
When I finally get to Sean's house, it's after 8. I waltz up to the front door, still on a high from seeing the house I'll soon be renting. It's seriously perfect. I put down a deposit on the spot and can move in next week. I'll only be five minutes away from his house, five minutes away from work, five minutes away from getting the love and kisses I want whenever I want them.
That is, if I survive what Sean wants to tell me tonight.
He opens the door as soon as I ring the bell and lets me inside. He doesn't kiss me. He just steps aside so I can come in. There's a glass of whiskey in his hand. His eyes are dark. Has he been crying? No. I don't think
"We need to talk," I start, but immediately cringe. We need to talk? Who starts a conversation that way? Unless you're breaking up, that's the worst thing you can say to someone. Even then, it's still the worst thing you can say.
Sean knows because he winces at the words.
"Do we?"
"Yeah, but I mean, nothing bad..." I search for the right words. I have to find them. I practiced asking him all last night. I even stood in front of the mirror, making sure I didn't sound like a total loser. Apparently, my tactic didn't work because now I'm here like a total dork, freaking out in front of someone who has shown me nothing but love and tenderness.
"You want to know where I was yesterday."
"Yes..." I'm shocked. He read my mind. Of course he did. He's Sean Moormead. He's Mr. Perfect. He's Mr. Fuck-Me-Everywhere-and-Anywhere. He knows exactly what I need in bed, exactly what I need at work, and exactly what I need in a boyfriend. Why wouldn't he know what I wanted to ask?
"I don't want to pressure you," I say, "but honestly, it kind of freaked me out. I thought we were moving forward together. I thought we were pursuing something special. Then you didn't text me back, didn't come to work, and I just thought...I thought something was wrong. Especially, you know, after the whole not sleeping in the same bed thing..."
And now I sound like a whiny high school student whose boyfriend doesn't want to go to prom.
Perfect.
"Violet," he begins, and I know that whatever he's going to say is bad. "We'll talk. We will. I promise, but we can't do it here. There are some things you need to know about me, some things about my past. I'm ready to share with you, but it's heavy, and it's not something I'm at all comfortable talking about at work. Hell, I'm not even sure I'm comfortable talking about it at all."
I rub my hand up and down his shoulder. I know he's hesitant still. We're still so new that we're both being careful. Neither one of us wants to fuck this up. Not just yet. Not before we really get started.
"Okay," I tell him. "I appreciate that you're willing to open up to me. You have no idea what it means to me." And I mean it. Despite my freaking out and panicking over everything he does, he's somehow managed to make everything okay with just a few simple words.
He nods slowly, painfully. He needs to be alone, so I get up.
"Why don't we do dinner?" I ask. "I'm actually looking at a house at 6:15, but I could come by after, or we could meet somewhere."
"A house?" He raises an eyebrow.
"I'm taking your advice. I'm moving to Pinebluff as soon as possible." I discussed it with Amy and she was thrilled at the idea of me moving out. Even Colby seemed pleased.
I turn and walk out of Sean's office without another word, but not before I see the little smile playing on his lips.
He's glad I'm moving.
And my heart soars.
20.
It's a funny thing, falling in love.
You can feel like you're doing everything right.
You can feel like you're getting everything under control.
You can feel like you're floating and falling at the same time.
You can explode.
You can melt.
You can die.
You can feel everything and nothing all at the same time, but it's never quite what you expected.
Love is always a surprise.
When I finally get to Sean's house, it's after 8. I waltz up to the front door, still on a high from seeing the house I'll soon be renting. It's seriously perfect. I put down a deposit on the spot and can move in next week. I'll only be five minutes away from his house, five minutes away from work, five minutes away from getting the love and kisses I want whenever I want them.
That is, if I survive what Sean wants to tell me tonight.
He opens the door as soon as I ring the bell and lets me inside. He doesn't kiss me. He just steps aside so I can come in. There's a glass of whiskey in his hand. His eyes are dark. Has he been crying? No. I don't think
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